“Jean Paul can’t get away with this. You have to come with me to the police station when we reach North Uist.”
Dan was standing at the wheel, looking out over the helm with his returned cap flipped backward against the wind. His gaze shifted to her for only an instant. “We aren’t going there.”
It wasn’t easy to hear over the loud throttle of the engine, but she knew she’d heard him correctly. “What do you mean we aren’t going there? Is there someplace closer? We have to find someone to explain this to right away. They think we aremurderers! What if Jean Paul gets away?”
“I’m more worried about us getting away. With the storm over, I’m sure they have all the coast guard in the area out looking for us. Unfortunately there is a Maritime Operation Centre in Stornoway. They only have two helicopters on site, but it won’t take long to call in a few more. The one goodthing we have going for us is that not knowing about the leak in the boat, they’ll have assumed that we would be able to travel all night.”
How did he know so much about Scottish Coast Guard operations?
“I don’t want to get away,” Annie said, her voice getting higher as her panic increased. “We didn’t do anything wrong!”
“That’s not how it looks right now, and I don’t have time to sit in jail while they figure it out.”
“That’s crazy. No one is going to put us in jail. As soon as we tell them what happened, they’ll realize Jean Paul is a liar.”
“How will they know that? What proof do you have? It’s his word against ours. And there is no way in hell I can get caught up in a murder investigation.”
“That’s what this is about! Whatever trouble you are in, it can’t be as serious as this. Please,” she begged. “The longer we wait, the worse it will look—and what if they let Jean Paul go?”
His mouth was clenched hard enough for the muscle below his jaw to tic. “That bastard is the least of my worries. You are wrong. It is very serious, and you can’t conceive the type of trouble this could bring. I never should have gotten involved. But I—” He stopped suddenly and stared at her. It was almost as if he blamed her. But then the flash of anger cleared, and he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Annie. But I can’t risk it. As soon as we are somewhere safe, I will do what I can.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Her frustration was getting the better of her. She couldn’t believe he was being so stubborn. Whatever he was involved in must be worse than she realized. First ecoterrorism and murder, and now God knew whatever he was caught up in.
She didn’t want to be involved with any of it. “Fine. You don’t need to come with me. Just drop me off and go wherever it is you are planning.”
He gave her that grim sidelong glance she was getting used to. “I can’t take the chance that someone will see us.”
Seeing his resolve, Annie felt her panic become desperate. “I thought you were joking about Bonnie and Clyde—I don’t want to be on the lam. Running will only make us look guilty.”
“I suspect you already do.”
She had no idea what he was talking about.
“Think about it,” he explained. “This is an experienced, professional terror organization. They usually operate in cells, which makes them even harder to penetrate. My bet is that all three of them were using false identities, and that they covered their trail in the event something went wrong.” He paused long enough to give her a pointed look. “The charter rental was in your name, wasn’t it?”
Annie paled, having just had the same thought. She nodded. “As was the room. Julien always paid cash. I noticed it but didn’t think anything of it.”
She knew a number of students who tried to use mostly cash to keep costs down. It was far easier to charge on a card than hand over big wads of cash. She had actually liked that about him. It made him seem responsible, prudent, and careful.
“Did Julien ever use your computer?”
She shook her head. “No. Not that I can think of.”
“Did he have access to it when you weren’t around?”
She thought a minute. “When I was in the shower or sleeping. A few times I left for class before he did.”
“Did he know your password?”
She bit her lip, embarrassed. “I don’t have a password. It’s my home computer—a desktop. You just have to hit Enter.”
Every word she said made her feel more like an idiot. She could practically hear him thinking “naive.” But it wasn’t as if there were state secrets on her computer. It was mostly just research backed up to a cloud account. She’d never had any...Oh no.
He read her expression. “What?”
“I had to cancel a credit card a few weeks before I left. There were a bunch of random Internet charges on it that I didn’t recognize. I assumed my number had been stolen.”
“Does your computer automatically remember your card number?”
