'Are you going to let Nick go?'
'Yes, eventually.' He turned on the coffeemaker. 'After you shower and have coffee and pull yourself together, we'll discuss it.'
His tone was flat and his face without expression. He wasn't going to be moved. 'Ten minutes.' She whirled and turned toward the bedroom. 'And then I'm holding you to your word.'
He smiled faintly. 'And yet you believe I've lied to you and will probably continue to do so.'
She stared back at him in frustration. It was true, how could she believe him? Yet she had to have some explanation, something to hold on to even if she questioned it. 'I'm not a fool. I hope I'll be able to tell if you're giving me a bunch of bull.'
He nodded soberly. 'I hope so, too, Devon.'
DEVON CLOSED THE BATHROOM DOOR and leaned against it.
She was shaking. Lord, she hoped Marrok hadn't noticed. She didn't want to show him the weakness she was feeling. All the time he'd been talking to her, she'd been aware of the quiet strength that surrounded his every word, every action. Yet beneath that quietness she'd caught glimpses of recklessness and a hint of darkness. It was a strange combination and much more intimidating than swaggering or bombastic speeches. She had to be just as strong. She had never felt that urgency before, never doubted her ability to meet anyone toe to toe. Why should he be different?
Crazy. Everything connected to Marrok was crazy and horrible and with no basis in reality. But she had to make it real. Cut through the bewilderment and be coolly logical.
Kidnapping was not logical. Men killing two innocent people wasn't logical. A lovable dog like Ned being shot wasn't logical.
But if Marrok wasn't a complete psychopath, then there was logic in all those events. She just had to find it.
So stop shaking. Go take that shower, and try to go over every bit of information you've managed to gather since Marrok brought Ned into the first-aid tent.
She stripped off her clothes and reached out her hand to turn on the hot water.
Hugh. Terry.
Tears were suddenly pouring down her cheeks. She sat down on the edge of the tub and rocked back and forth in an agony of despair. The shock had ebbed and left her emotions as naked as her body. She couldn't be logical now. Not until she was able to push this sorrow and regret into the background. She had to grieve for her two friends who had died this day.
IT WAS OVER AN HOUR LATER when Devon came out of the bathroom into the adjoining bedroom.
She stopped abruptly as she saw the brown-haired woman sitting in the easy chair across the room.
'Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I'm Bridget Reardon. I have to talk to you.' She looked at the towel draped around Devon. 'Go on and get dressed. I can wait.'
'I can't.' She tightened the towel over her breasts. 'You were with Nick. Is he here?'
She nodded. 'We just got in. He's getting something to eat down in the bunkhouse. We only grabbed sandwiches on the road. Marrok had us rushing to get here. He knew you'd be worried until you saw him.'
Relief surged through her. 'He was right. And I still haven't seen Nick. I'd rather talk to him than you.'
She smiled faintly. 'Marrok said you were suspicious as hell.'
'Why shouldn't I be?'
'No reason,' she said bluntly. 'You'd be stupid not to question everything we say or do. I'm just telling you that, believe it or not, I'm not lying. I don't want to be here talking to you, but it's Marrok's orders. He thought you'd take it better from me.' She shrugged. 'I don't know why. I'm great with animals, but I'm not real good with people.'
She stiffened. 'Take what better?'
'Danner burned your place to the ground.'
Her eyes widened in shock. 'What?'
'See, I told you I wasn't good at this.'
'You're right,' she said numbly. 'You're lousy.'
'I'd want to know everything up front. I thought you would too.'
'I do.' Her knees felt weak, and she sank down on the bed. 'You're not-It's the truth?'
'I told you that I wouldn't lie. I was still in the woods and watched the house catch fire. The barn was already burning.'
'Janet. Oh, God, my housekeeper, Janet McDonald.'
'We got her away a little while before they came. The animals too.'
'Gracie?'
'All of them. We took the donkey and the cats the night before. They're all being well taken care of by our people.'
Devon was half-relieved, half-bewildered. 'You took Casper the night before. You were planning this?'
'Marrok was doing the planning. I just follow orders. He said that when Danner found you, there'd be no holds barred, and he wanted to protect those you cared about.'
'No holds barred.' Two good people had died, and the place she called home had been destroyed. 'I'd say that's an apt description.'
'It's knocked you for a loop.' Bridget's gaze was on her face. 'I know that most people consider the destruction of a home as traumatic, but we did manage to get everyone out. That should mean something.'
'Of course it does.' She dazedly shook her head. 'Why would they do it?'
'Cover forensic evidence, set an example, punish you for helping Marrok. Take your pick,' Bridget said. 'If Danner captured you, he'd want you softened up, tortured. He probably thinks you know something.'
A surge of anger tore through Devon. 'Then he'd think wrong. I don't know anything except I'm being moved around like a chessman and you people are making me a damn victim.' Her eyes suddenly filled with tears, but she would not cry. 'I won't let you do that. There have already been too many victims to whatever game Marrok is playing.' She suddenly went on the attack. 'And you're just as bad if you meekly do what he tells you.'
'Meekly?' She was suddenly smiling. 'No, Marrok wouldn't ever ask me to be meek. He knows me too well.'
'But you obey orders.'
'Yes, we all obey his orders. He keeps us safe.' She paused. 'And we keep him safe. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement.'
'From this Danner?'
'Yes, but if it weren't Danner, it would be someone else. Marrok's life is walking tightropes. He does it well.'
'I don't care about Marrok and his tightrope.'
'I know you don't. I wouldn't either. I'd feel raw and angry and violated.' She rose to her feet. 'I'm sorry your two friends were killed.' Her lips tightened. 'But you're not alone. We lost a man at your farm. A good man. He was reconnoitering the woods on your property trying to spot any of Danner's slimeballs. He was shot five times in the back.'
'Marrok's tightrope evidently extends to the people who work for him. Maybe you should get the hell away from him.'
Bridget shook her head. 'We can't do that.'
'Why not?'
'Because working for Marrok is worth any risk.'
'Money?'
'No.' She lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. 'I suppose it's because he makes us feel like knights from Camelot, the chosen to protect the castle.'
She frowned. 'I don't know what the hell you're talking about.'
'I'm just trying to tell you that, whatever you may think, Marrok is worth it.' Bridget nodded. 'And I've probably said too much. I have a habit of doing that. I just don't want you to feel alone. Marrok won't give an inch when it comes to anything connected with Ned, and he can be damned enigmatic.' She headed for the door. 'Come down to
