"I could get used to coming home to this," he said into her neck.

"Never leave me again," she said, and he pulled back.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said. "Well, I was worried. And Nash came by after you left."

His face turned to stone and she said, "No, nothing happened. Hey, you'd have been proud of me." She gestured at the Beretta on the nightstand. "I pulled a gun on him."

He shuddered and then wrapped his arms around her again. "He's not a good person to pull a gun on, Lucy. Don't do it again unless you're going to kill him. If you hesitate, he'll take it away from you. And then…" He held her tighter.

"Well," Lucy said, trying to breathe, "if he'd come any closer I would have killed him."

"Lucy, you didn't even take the safety off. I can see it from here. So could he."

Hell. "I forgot."

"Yeah." He kissed her cheek. "Don't pull a gun on him. On anybody, but especially not him. You only point a gun-"

"If you're going to kill somebody. I know, I know." Now that she was calm, she noticed he was soaking wet. And smelled like swamp. She pulled back. "Where have you been?"

"In the swamp," he said, letting her go. "Finnegan is dead."

Lucy felt sick. "You killed him?"

He looked insulted. "No. Jeez, Lucy."

"Sorry." She sat down on the edge of the bed. I'm sleeping with a man I know could kill people. She should have found that disturbing, not comforting, but there it was.

He kept talking as he unbuttoned his wet shirt. "I thought Nash did it, but if he was here with you…"

"He was here with me part of the time." Lucy crossed her arms. She was going to have to change her shirt, too. It smelled of swamp, thanks to her taste in men.

Well, J.T. was worth a little swamp stink.

"He wouldn't have had time to see you and get to the swamp," J.T. said as he stripped off the body armor. "You okay?"

Am I okay? Lucy considered the situation. "We still shooting tonight?"

"No," he said, and the way he said it made her pay attention.

"What happened?"

"I'm pretty sure Finnegan was tortured."

"Oh, God." Lucy swallowed. "I don't believe Nash would torture. He's crazy but he's not an animal."

"I think it was the ghost."

"Who?"

"The guy who Pepper's been seeing in the swamp. She was right. He's been there all along. He was there that night with Pepper and the gator."

"The ghost." Lucy swallowed.

J.T. pulled off his wet pants and got a fresh shirt out of the case. "But if he's moved up from shooting out helicopter skids and crashing a van to torture and murder, then anything could happen. You're getting out of here."

"Me?" Lucy straightened. "W'hat about you?"

His cell phone rang before he could answer. He clicked it on and said, "Wilder," and then he sat down next to her on the bed, turning the phone so she could hear, too.

"What the fuck is going on?" Crawford's voice crackled.

J.T. looked unimpressed. "Reference?"

"Two bodies in the Savannah Wildlife Refuge and a missing Irishman."

Two bodies and a missing Irishman? Lucy looked at J.T.

"Two bodies?" he said.

"Some fat guy and another guy with tattoos, looks like a weight lifter."

J.T. relaxed a little.

He knows who they are, Lucy thought. Jesus.

J.T. said, "Finnegan is dead, not missing."

"How the hell do you know that?"

"Uh-" J.T. looked at her and Lucy thought, Something else he didn't tell me. "Well, I found part of his shirt. An alligator got the rest of him."

Not Moot, Lucy thought, and felt ill.

"Why the fuck were you out there?" Crawford said.

"Checking on things."

"Did I tell you to check on things?" Crawford didn't wait for an answer. "So much for the bug that was going to lead us to Letsky."

Oh, you're a real humanitarian, Lucy thought, and the look on J.T.'s face said he was thinking the same thing.

J.T. said, "Did you have him killed?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," Crawford snarled. "I killed the one link I had to my priority target. We noticed the bug wasn't moving for a while and went in to check. Found it on his cane. But no Finnegan."

"Why would Letsky take him out?"

"Letsky wouldn't take him out," Crawford said, clearly fed up. "Letsky wants his fucking Viagra art. And Finnegan was going to get it for him."

J.T. straightened. "I thought Finnegan already had the art. He just needed to deliver it."

"I do the thinking here."

"Then think," J.T. snapped, and Lucy thought, That's my boy. "Who do you think took out Finnegan?"

"Nash."

"Nash was here at the hotel when Finnegan was getting chomped up."

"How do you know that? You just told me you were in the swamp."

"Take my word for it," J.T. said. "I've got no reason to protect Nash. So who took out Finnegan if it wasn't Letsky or Nash?"

"Fuck."

The look on J.T.'s face told Lucy that wasn't the answer he wanted. The CIA had no idea who'd murdered Finnegan. We're definitely not filming tonight, Lucy thought.

"Okay." By his tone, Crawford was making a big attempt to regroup. "Here's the new plan. You bug Nash. If he makes the meeting with Letsky, we've got them."

"Does Nash have the art?"

"Uh. No."

"Then why would Nash make the meeting?"

"You just do as ordered. Bug Nash. Let this thing play out. If he gets the art, we'll let him make the meeting."

"Where is the art?"

"Just finish your goddamn movie. Do you understand, Captain?"

"How were the other two killed?"

"One shot each, in the head."

"Close range?"

"No. Looks like seven-point-six-two. Rifle."

J.T. looked at Lucy and smiled what he probably hoped was a reassuring smile. Pathetic, she thought and loved him more for trying.

"Captain Wilder?"

"Yes."

"Bug Nash. Leave him alone. Let him do his thing."

"Nash may be having problems."

Crawford breathed heavily into the phone. "What kind of problems?"

"His pilot canceled the cargo net that was supposed to hold the jade. I think that's what it was supposed to hold."

"So where are they going to put it?"

"In the chopper. Which makes me think there won't be as many people in there as Nash had planned."

"Double cross and Nash figured it out," Crawford said. "Fuck." He was silent for a moment. "They got the coordinates from Finnegan. They cut him out. Nash is delivering the art without him. Bug Nash."

"Crawford-"

"Just do it, damn it."

The phone clicked off.

"Well, I would but you didn't give me a second bug," J.T. said to the dial tone.

"Oh, great," Lucy said. "Who else was killed?"

"Two of the guys who attacked Bryce and me in the bar. They worked for Finnegan, his muscle. The fight wasn't an accident. Finnegan wanted to take me out early in the game."

"There were three guys," Lucy said, her heart pounding. "Do you think the third guy is the killer?"

J.T. shook his head immediately. "No. Thin Man is the one whose knee I took out. I think he probably crawled away to hide until things clear up. Like Judgment Day, maybe."

"Thin Man?" Lucy said. "Thin Man. You named them, too?"

"Got to identify the targets," J.T. said, but Lucy could tell his mind was elsewhere.

"What was the seven-point-sixty-two thing?"

"Seven-point-six-two," he corrected. "Caliber of the bullet."

"Is that important?"

"Everything is important," J.T. said. "Means the ghost probably used a sniper rifle to take the security guys out. Then came in close with a smaller caliber suppressed weapon to finish Finnegan. Which means he wanted something from Finnegan." J.T. shook his head. "This is over. It's too damn dangerous now. These people will do anything."