“What do you mean?”
“Do you have a record or anything else someone else could hold over your head if you didn’t do as you were told?” Brett asked.
“No. No, no, no! What I did was stupid and I shouldn’t have done it, but I did it on my own,” Myles said, looking as if he was about to cry.
“And no one—no one—suggested in even that vaguest way that you should have done it?” Brett pushed.
Myles shook his head. “Do I need a lawyer?”
“You’re not under arrest.”
“But you just said—”
“We’re just talking here, Myles. And I’m really hoping that you really will talk to me.”
Myles seemed to sink into himself even more. “You must know everything there is to know about me. Big Brother is watching and all that. I don’t have a record. I admit I don’t always recycle, but that’s it. I just...I just got so jealous that I wanted Lara to go away! Can’t you understand that?”
“Do you know of anyone else who dislikes her?” Brett asked.
“There must be other people who resent her, but I have no idea who they are. Rick, Grady, Dr. Amory and everyone else seem to think she’s more of a natural with the dolphins than they are. Maybe Adrianna! I mean, she’s never said anything to me, but she must get sick of hearing Rick praise Lara all the time.”
There was a rap on the door. Frowning, Brett got to his feet and went to answer. Matt was standing there with a sheaf of papers in his hand.
“I think I’m just getting somewhere,” Brett said. “Any chance this can wait?”
“Not a chance in hell. I just got the hospital’s list of every visitor who was there on the day of Randy Nicholson’s death. Trust me, you’re going to want to see it.”
*
As Meg kept running toward the spot where Adrianna had tumbled into the water, Lara, with her heart in her throat, bent down and saw that the body she’d stumbled over was Dr. Amory’s. He was crumpled on the ground, half-covered by one of the sea grape trees. There was a bloody gash on his head.
“Dr. Amory?” she said, testing for his pulse. He looked as if he had taken the curve too quickly and tripped, hitting his head on a tree root.
She was relieved to find he had a pulse. She started to rise to cry for help, but then she heard the blast of gunfire.
She ducked, shocked by how loud it had been. They must have heard it even back by the gift shop. At least that meant help would come quickly.
Was Adrianna still in the water, or had Meg gotten to her before the shot?
A voice came from somewhere past the sea grape trees. “Your friend is shooting at me, Lara. Make her stop. If you do, I’ll let you go down for Adrianna. She has about another minute and half, I imagine, before it’s lights out forever. My dart only gave her a little prick, but it’s enough to keep her from doing a thing to help herself. There’s a wonderful study on puffer fish poison. Seems way back when Cook was exploring, he and his men all grew sick after a meal in the South Pacific. Pigs on board, fed the remnants of the meal, all died. Turns out they’d been eating puffer fish. Scientists ran some weight calculations and determined that the dosage the men received was sufficient to harm but not to kill them, but it was more than enough to kill their pigs.”
“A hundred soldiers heard that shot and will be out here in about two minutes,” Lara said.
Ignoring her, he said, “And then there’s Meg. She can’t see me, but I bet she can hear me.” He raised his voice. “You can hear me, can’t you, Meg? I can pop a dart into you any time I want, and it won’t be a small dose.”
“Lara, don’t!” Meg warned. “Don’t do anything he wants—he’ll just kill us both anyway.”
Lara stood, her legs shaky, her hands trembling. She knew that these people had no problem killing, but she needed to help Adrianna.
She walked around the bend in the trail to the platform. She couldn’t see the man who’d been talking to her, and she didn’t have time to waste looking. She dived into the water, found Adrianna’s body and she dragged her back to the platform.
“Now, Meg,” the man said, “I have you in my sights. Help Lara get Adrianna out of the water. Oh, throw down that gun first.”
“Like hell I wi—” Meg began.
Something whistled through the trees.
Meg ducked, and the dart went past her and dropped into the water.
“Toss the gun!” he said.
“Do it, Meg,” Lara pleaded.
Meg, stony faced, looked at her. And dropped her Glock by her feet.
“Oh, no. That’s not good enough. Kick the gun away from you.”
Lara met Meg’s eyes and could tell she didn’t want to do it. But whoever was watching them was calling the shots.
She thought that she could hear Meg’s voice in her mind.
We’ve gotten out of messes like this before. We’ll get out again.
“Do it, Meg,” Lara pleaded. “Kick it away.”