Genevieve wished Nick would choke to death on the guavas. He’d already eaten three of the five they’d brought in the suitcase. He reminded her of a hog with his snout in the slop bucket. To think that she’d once thought he was the spitting image of Cary Grant. Right now he looked like Frankenstein.

He didn’t scare her as much as Frankenstein would, though. When he’d first grabbed her, she’d about jumped out of her skin, but she’d found out that a person couldn’t stay scared forever. Sooner or later the feeling wore off, and now she was busy calculating how to get out of this fix.

Cousin Festus down in the Hollow used to like to jump out and grab folks like Nick had, until the day Lyda Mae kicked him in the balls with the heel of her army-issue boots. Genevieve had meant to practice that move herself, but she’d left the Hollow and forgotten all about it. She could have used that move when Nick grabbed her.

Except Cousin Festus never came at anybody with a gun. Maybe kicking Nick in the balls wouldn’t be such a good idea. But she needed to think of something, because once he figured out how to dispose of their bodies, he’d kill both her and Jack. He could feed them to the sharks, but Genevieve had seen Jaws and she knew you couldn’t count on a shark to eat everything. A shark could leave the exact body part with a bullet in it that would incriminate Nick.

No, if Nick was thinking straight, which he might not be, the only way to dispose of two bodies was to tie a rock on them and sink them out in the ocean. That would require a boat, so logically Nick shouldn’t decide to kill them until his pickup men arrived.

Genevieve was worried that Nick might not be logical, though. When she looked into his eyes, which she mostly tried not to do, he reminded her of Uncle Rufus’s old hound dog Sour Mash, who got bit by a rabid skunk.

Anybody using logic wouldn’t drink all the water and eat all the food. All three of them could be stuck here for a while, and although Nick certainly didn’t care if she and Jack died of thirst, he ought to have sense enough to save something for himself. Genevieve thought maybe the strain of being so close to getting all that money and not being able to finish the job might have affected Nick like the skunk bite had affected Sour Mash.

Sure enough, Nick ate the fourth guava, and all that was left was the one that had rolled in front of Jack’s face. Grabbing his gun, Nick stood up, probably to walk around and get it.

A moment later, Jack cursed softly.

“Hey!” Genevieve struggled against the belt holding her wrists. “Whatever you’re doing to Jack, cut it out!”

Nick came back into her line of vision and grinned, revealing the guava seed stuck in his teeth. “You have a thing for Farley, don’t you, Genevieve?”

She started getting scared all over again. Nick had that crazy look in his eyes, and if he thought she cared about Jack, he might start torturing Jack just to pass the time. “No, I don’t. Just like you said, he’s a computer geek. Not my type.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Nick’s gaze swept over the two of them. Then he glanced down. “Well, look at that! If it isn’t a condom!” He stuck the guava in his pocket and scooped the condom from the sand.

“So what?” Genevieve tried to look bored with his discovery. “I always carry one in my suitcase, for emergencies.”

Nick tossed the condom in the air and caught it again. “I don’t believe you for a minute. You brought this in case you needed it on Maui. And with all the rumors about me, I doubt if you only brought one. So I ask myself, what happened to the rest of them?”

“She only brought one,” Jack said. “She knew you were a one-shot-and-it’s-over kind of guy.”

“Fuck you, Farley.” Nick walked back over in front of Jack.

From the sound of it, Genevieve figured he’d kicked sand in Jack’s face. “Jack, shut up.” She nudged him from behind. “I did have more condoms,” she said. “And we used them to…to hold rainwater. Which we already drank.” They could have used them that way, she realized now, but they hadn’t thought of it. The condoms had been too precious to think of using them for anything besides their intended purpose.

“Considering what a geek Farley is, I can picture you doing that. Better to have something to drink than to waste a condom on somebody who can’t get it up unless he’s looking at pictures on a porno site, isn’t that right, Farley?”

“I guess you know all about that,” Jack said. “I’ll bet you get off calling nine-hundred numbers from the office.”

“Jack.” Genevieve clenched her jaw and punched him hard in the back. He was going to get himself shot any second, talking that way.

“You weren’t by chance hacking your way into company records, were you, Farley?”

Jack laughed. “No, just a lucky guess.”

“Yeah, well, I’m beginning to realize that you’re a dangerous guy to have around. With your computer skills, you might be able to figure out how I cooked the books when I made my withdrawals. I’d planned to kill you anyway, but the urge is getting stronger by the minute. Time to say bye-bye, Farley.” Nick crouched down and aimed the gun at Jack’s head.

“No!” Genevieve screamed.

“What’s the matter, Genevieve?” Nick kept his attention on Jack. “Maybe you’re more attached to this nerd than you think. That’s a little joke, there. Attached. Get it?”

“Nick, you don’t want to shoot Jack.” The blood whooshing in her ears was louder than the surf. “You said yourself that you can’t let somebody find either of us with a bullet that could be traced to you. Jack’s feeling a little cranky tied up like this, so that’s why he’s—”

“A little cranky?” Jack said. “Try pissed as hell! You eat our food, you drink all the damned water, and then you throw sand in my face and insult me! I’ve had it with you, Brogan!”

“And I’ve had it with you, asshole!” Nick pressed the barrel of the gun to Jack’s forehead.

“Stop it, both of you!” Genevieve couldn’t believe that Jack was being so stupid. “Nick, you can’t shoot Jack right now, and you know it, so quit acting like you’re going to! And, Jack, shut your trap! We’re in enough trouble already without you making it worse.”

“I’ll shoot Farley if I want to!” Nick said. “No secretary is going to tell me if I can shoot somebody or not. And I really feel like shooting this guy. I’ll worry about what to do with him later.”

“Brilliant,” Jack said. “Act now, think afterward. You’re a regular mental giant, Brogan.”

“Whatever. I have the gun and you don’t. Any last words, boy genius, before I blow a hole in that super-size brain of yours?”

Genevieve’s fingers brushed the inside of Jack’s wrists, where the blood pumped fast. One bullet, and that blood would stop pumping. She didn’t know how to stop Nick, with Jack egging him on, acting more like an idiot than a genius. “Nick, don’t,” she said.

“Give me one good reason.”

“You’re not a murderer yet. If you don’t kill anyone, this could all be cleared up. You could plead temporary insanity. I’m sure Matt—”

Nick’s laughter cut her off. “And give up my millions? Not likely, sweetheart. Nope, you two are in my way. Time to get rid of one of you, at least.” The soft click as Nick pulled the hammer back with his thumb seemed to echo in the lava rocks surrounding the beach.

A large shadow passed over them, and Genevieve looked up quickly, praying it was a plane or a helicopter, although she knew immediately it couldn’t be, because there was no engine noise. In the sliver of time, she recognized the albatross soaring above them and instinctively went for the diversion.

“Omigod!” she yelled. “Look out!”

Nick’s head jerked upward. He leaped to his feet and raised the gun.

Frantically Genevieve tried to squeeze one hand out of the belt loop.

Before Nick could register the fact that what was circling overhead was only a harmless albatross, he had reflexively pulled the trigger.

There was a click, and nothing.

“Son of a bitchin’ gun!”

Genevieve worked harder, like a fox in a steel trap, not caring if she tore the skin from her hand if she could work it free. She and Jack had just gotten lucky. Something seemed to be wrong with Nick’s gun.

Another loud click echoed in the rocks.

“Fucking thing’s loaded, it’s dry, and it won’t fire. Stupid fucking gun.”

Genevieve tore one hand loose, skinning it good in the process. Then the other hand came free. She glanced over in time to see Nick point the gun at the sand, pull the trigger, and then howl in pain. Somehow he had managed to shoot himself in the foot.

“Help—I’m shot!” he yelled hysterically.

“I wish I could help you,” Jack said. “But I’m all tied up at the moment.”

Genevieve murmured to Jack, “I’m free. Here—” She began to work on the knots she’d tied so well earlier, but her fingers were shaking so badly she was having trouble. And the hand she’d forced through the belt loop was bleeding.

She struggled with the knots, but the blood dripping on the curling iron cord made it slippery.

Fortunately Nick was hollering loud enough to drown out the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, plus he was so busy ripping up his shirt to use as a bandage that he didn’t seem to be paying them any mind.

Finally Genevieve loosened the last of the knots and unwound the cord from Jack’s hands and his ankle.

“Oh, thank God.” He started to unbend his leg.

“Don’t. He might figure out you’re loose.”

Jack groaned but stayed where he was. “We need to get him over here so we can tackle him and get that gun away from him,” he whispered.

“Right.” Calling to Nick felt like splashing around in the water to get the attention of a shark, but at least he was a wounded shark. Genevieve got back in position beside Jack, as if she were still tied up. Before speaking, she had to stop to clear her throat. “Nick!” she called.

He was moaning so loudly he didn’t seem to hear her.

She tried again. “Nick!”

“I got a problem over here!” he yelled back. “Oh, Sweet Jesus, it won’t stop bleeding.”

“You need to put more pressure on it, Nick! And make sure it doesn’t get infected. I have some antibiotic ointment in my makeup bag. It’s the little flowered thing with the zipper lying over here about a foot from me.”

“Why would you care what happens to me?”

“Because if that bullet wound gets infected, and you pass out and leave us tied up like this, we could all die.”

Nick was silent for a moment. “So you’re turning into Florence Nightingale because you need me?”

“I reckon that’s true. If you’d untie me, I could help you with that gunshot foot.”

“Nice touch,” Jack murmured.

“Hell, I’m not that stupid! But I’ll use the stuff in your makeup bag. That’s a good idea.”

“He stuck the gun in his waistband,” Jack said, his words covered by Nick’s loud cussing as he limped toward them.

“Damn.” Genevieve had hoped he’d leave the gun behind.

Jack flexed his fingers behind his back. “I’ll get it,” he said softly.

As Nick approached, Genevieve remembered that she had the glasses and Jack didn’t.

In the next second Jack had launched himself at Nick and made a grab for the gun. Being half blind, of course he missed.

Yelling, Nick toppled to one side and got his hand on the gun. As Genevieve lunged forward, Jack finally got hold of the gun barrel, which wouldn’t do him much good if that blessed gun went off.

Genevieve latched on to Nick’s injured foot, but she couldn’t tell if Nick had his finger on the trigger of the gun or not. “Let go of the gun!” she hollered, banging down on his wound with her fist.

Nick’s animal yowl of pain was followed by the click of the gun’s hammer.

Jack rolled to one side. “I’ve got it!” He held the gun aloft and scrambled to his feet.

“I’ll kill you!” Nick screamed, reaching for Genevieve. “I’ll kill you both!”

She jumped out of range and got to her feet. “Kiss my grits, Nick!”

“I’ve got this gun pointed right at your head, sucker,” Jack said. “It didn’t go off last time, which means it might next time.”

“Damn it, my foot hurts! Can’t you do something?” Nick said, appealing to Genevieve.

Genevieve gulped for air. “You got your own self into this fix, Nick. I know you had a rotten childhood and all, but that’s no excuse for trying to kill folks.” She went to stand beside Jack and sight down the gun barrel. Jack’s aim was way off. “Better give me the gun,” she said, “since I have the glasses.”

“No, you give me the glasses.”

“First tell me who pulled the trigger a minute ago.”

“He did.”

“Are you sure? With you being so all-fired smart, you could have figured out it would have been self-defense.”

Jack blew out a breath. “Gen, I promised I wouldn’t kill him, and I don’t break promises.”

“Okay, then.” She took off the glasses and handed them to Jack.

Jack slipped them up over his nose and blinked. “Oh, there you are.” He moved the gun barrel a good three inches to the right. “You looked ugly before, but now that I can see you better, you look downright disgusting.”

“He definitely looks better without the glasses,” Genevieve said.

“Very funny,” Nick said, his shoulders sagging.

“Now, Nick,” Genevieve said, “if you promise not to try anything, I’ll cut some material off your pants and make a pressure bandage for your foot.”

“And if you move a muscle in her direction,” Jack said, “I’ll shoot. I’ll try to hit your arm or something you can live without, but I’ve never shot a gun before so I make no guarantees.”

“I won’t try anything. I promise. I—” And then he passed out.

“Uh-oh.” Genevieve started to rush toward him.

“Wait.” Jack grabbed her arm. “It could be a trick.”

“You’re right.” She approached slowly, Jack right beside her, the gun cocked.

Nick didn’t move, not even when Genevieve kneeled down and started to unwrap the blood-soaked bandage from his foot. “I’ll bet he’s gone into shock,” she said. “That’s dangerous.”

“What can we do about it?”

“I think you’re supposed to wrap the person in blankets.”

“We have the beach towel.”

“That will help, but we might need to do more than that.”

“Like what?”

“Like while I try to stop the bleeding, you can hug him.”