'Except that Alistair Drummond knew the truth,' Holly said.

Buchanan nodded. 'He'd watched everything on the monitor in his private video-surveillance room. And a tape of a rape-homicide is so much more useful than oral sex, sodomy, and drug use when you want to blackmail a member of the Mexican government. Drummond must have been delighted. I imagine him going to her murderer, revealing what's on the tape, and arranging a coverup in exchange for certain favors. The initial stage wouldn't have been difficult. All Drummond needed to do was order his pilot to fly the yacht's helicopter to the mainland. Then Drummond could have told his guests that Maria Tomez had left the cruise early. They'd have no reason to suspect differently.'

'After that, though,' Holly said.

'Yes, after that,' Buchanan said. 'Drummond must have felt inspired when he thought of Juana. Perhaps Maria Tomez had told him about the clever way she had of avoiding tedious social events by using Juana to double for her. Perhaps Drummond found out another way. For certain, though, he did find out. He needn't have told Juana anything incriminating. All he had to do was explain that Maria Tomez wanted absolute privacy and offer Juana an irresistible amount of money to impersonate Maria Tomez for an extended period of time.'

'So complicated and yet so simple,' Holly said. 'If I weren't so disgusted, I'd call it brilliant.'

'But what does Drummond want from the person he's blackmailing?' Buchanan said. 'Obviously not money. Drummond's so rich it's hard to imagine that money alone would motivate him, especially the comparatively small amount that even a wealthy Mexican politician could give him. You're a reporter. Do you recognize the man on the tape?'

Holly shook her head. 'Mexico isn't my specialty. I wouldn't know one of its politicians from another.'

'But we can find out.' Buchanan stood.

'How?'

'We're going back to Miami.' His voice was like flint against steel. 'Then we're flying to Mexico City.'

14.

'This is Buttercup.' Clutching the phone, speaking urgently, the husky-voiced woman used the code name she'd been assigned.

On the other end of the line, a man's sleep-thickened voice was tinged with annoyance. 'What time is.? Lord, it's almost five in the morning. I got to bed only an hour ago.'

'I'm sorry. This was the first chance I had to call.'

'They've been looking everywhere for you.' The man had said his name was Alan, although he was probably using a pseudonym.

'That's what I was afraid of. Is it safe to talk?'

'This call is being relayed from another phone,' Alan said. 'The two phones are linked by scramblers. Why are you calling me? I told you it had to be an emergency.'

'I'm with Leprechaun.' The woman used the code name they'd agreed upon.

'Yes. I assumed.'

'You have to understand. He's been telling the truth. What he's doing has no involvement with.' She tactfully didn't mention Scotch and Soda.

'I assumed that as well. I believe he genuinely wants out. It's his superiors who need reassurance.'

'But how?'

'It's a little late to ask that,' Alan said. 'You're part of the problem, after all. If you'd stayed away from him.'

'But in Washington, he came to me.'

'Same difference. You're together. Guilt by association. His superiors believe that the two of you reneged on your bargain not to publicize their activities.'

'This has nothing to do with their activities. How do I get that across to.? Should I phone them? Give me a number to call and.'

'No,' Alan said sharply. 'You'll only make things worse. They can instantly trace any call you make. You'd be guiding them to you.'

'Then what do I do?'

'Sever ties with Leprechaun,' Alan said. 'Go to ground. Wait until I tell you it's safe to reappear.'

'But that could take months.'

'True.'

'Damn it, I wish I'd never listened to you. When you approached me, I should have told you I wasn't interested.'

'Ah, but you couldn't,' Alan said. 'The story was too good to ignore.'

'And now it might get me killed.'

'Not if you're careful. Not if you stop making mistakes. There's still a way to salvage things.'

'You son of a bitch,' she said. 'You're still thinking of the story.'

'I'm thinking of approaching another journalist, who might be interested in telling your story. That would draw so much attention to you that they wouldn't dare make a move to have you eliminated. I could bring you in. The two of us could still get what we want.'

'What you want. All I want is a normal life. Whatever that is. Lord, I'm not sure anymore.'

'You should have thought of that before you accepted my information,' Alan said. 'But I repeat, if you're careful, if you do what I tell you, I think I can eventually bring you in safely. For now, go to ground. Assume another identity.'

'And what about Leprechaun?'

Alan didn't answer.

'I asked you, what about Leprechaun?' Holly said.

'Sometimes we can't get everything we want.'

'What are you talking about?'

'I never wanted this to happen. Really. I'd hoped that. He's a soldier. He'd understand more than you. Sometimes there are.'

'What?'

'Casualties.'

As Holly turned from staring at the phone in the booth down the lane from her room in the Key West motel, she saw a man's shadow next to ferns in the pre-dawn gray. In the numerous palm trees, birds began to chirp.

'I can't talk anymore,' Holly said into the phone.