Bobby sniffed, but didn’t release his death grip on his mother’s jeans.
Jeff returned his attention to the woman. She, too, had large eyes. High cheekbones sculpted her face. For the first time he realized she was beautiful enough to stop a man in his tracks and make him think about the forbidden. Or beautiful enough to tempt a man to try to own her, much as Kray owned objects from all over the world.
“How old are you?” he asked Bobby.
“F-five.”
His gaze narrowed as he studied the woman. That meant she’d married Kray about six years ago. Six years ago, when J.J. had been three and growing faster than he’d believed possible. Six years ago, when Jeff’s marriage with Jeanne was crumbling around them and it didn’t seem to matter how much they’d been in love. Six years ago when his wife had accused him of loving his job more than he’d loved her and he’d known in his heart she was right.
Jeff moved closer. The woman froze in place. Fear flickered across her features, tightening her jaw and making her body tremble. But she didn’t back away. She kept herself between him and the boy.
Her run through the jungle and wrestling with him had loosened her braid. Strands of hair drifted across her shoulders. He reached forward. She flinched. Slowly he grabbed the loose hair and pulled it away from her face. His gaze narrowed as he studied her features. Six years ago she hadn’t been blond. He pictured her eyes green instead of blue, her hair cropped above the ears and bright red. His gaze flickered over her T-shirt and jeans. She hadn’t been as curvy then, or dressed so casually. He searched his memory recalling all the pictures of Kray he’d pored over, memorizing everything he could about the man.
One photograph clicked into place. He stared at the blonde, seeing instead a tall, painfully thin party girl in a designer gown. She’d been clinging to Kray’s arm, gazing up at him adoringly. The powerful telescopic lens had caught her perfect features, her wide eyes and mouth. He remembered everything and knew exactly who she was.
Jeff stepped back from her. “You’re the bimbo model.”
“And you’re some macho jerk who gets a kick out of frightening little boys.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I’d always assumed Kray liked his women submissive and decorative. Guess I was wrong.”
“I was a great disappointment to him.”
He glanced at Bobby. “Obviously not. You’re the wife,” he said, wondering how any woman could become involved with low-life scum like Kray. Was it the money? The power? He shook his head. It didn’t matter. He didn’t have time for this.
“Ex-wife,” she said.
He ignored her, then glanced back the way they’d come and wondered how long it would be before someone noticed the kid was missing. Kidnapping Kray’s only son wasn’t going to make the crime lord happy. The woman was in a lot of trouble. No doubt she already knew that.
Damn. If only she hadn’t picked today to try her heroics. Kray would be dead by now and all their problems would be solved.
“Are you going to turn us over to him?” she asked.
He returned his attention to her. She’d squared her shoulders and folded her arms over her chest. Bobby still stood behind her, watching him warily. The kid had spunk, he thought, then frowned. It wasn’t right. Kray’s child lived and breathed while J.J. was long since dead and buried.
The familiar sense of loss swept over him, making him wonder if he would ever be able to look at a young boy and not think of his son.
“I won’t turn you in,” he said shortly and shifted his backpack. He wasn’t going to turn them in, but if he let her go, and she was captured by Kray’s men, she would tell them about him. Once they knew he was on the island, he would be dead before he got another shot at Kray.
He glanced up at the sun in the clear blue sky, then back at her. “You’ve got the boy. How did you plan to get away?”
She clamped her lips shut.
Great. “Listen, lady, I just saw you kidnap Kray’s son. If I was one of the bad guys, don’t you think I’d turn you in and get some kind of reward for my trouble? Kray would pay big money to get you and the kid back.”
She balled her hands into fists. “He doesn’t want me back. I told you, I’m his ex-wife. It’s been over five years since we—” She shook her head. “Why am I explaining this to you? I don’t even know who or what you are. Look at how you’re dressed. My God, you’re probably some paramilitary psycho who gets his kicks out of torturing innocent women and children.” Her voice trembled on each word, and by the end of her speech he could see she was fighting tears.
“Mommy?” Bobby looked up at her. “Mommy, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She blinked several times, then smiled down at her son. “I’m fine. We’re going to go now.” She took Bobby’s hand and turned away.
“Not so fast,” Jeff said, starting after her. “Not until I know exactly what is going on here.”
She looked at him over her shoulder. “It’s not your business.”
“You made it my business when you crashed my party. I don’t trust you. You’re not going anywhere without me.”
“I don’t need your help.”
Help? If things hadn’t been so twisted, he would have laughed out loud. “Who said anything about help? Lady, I don’t care what happens to you. I just want to stay alive on this stinking island. You’re in my way. I want you out of my way. End of story.”
The woman recoiled visibly. “Don’t hurt my son,” she pleaded. “I don’t matter, but he does. Please, please just get him away from Kray. Bobby’s the innocent one in all of this. Surely you can see that. He didn’t even know who his father was. Kray had never even seen him until three weeks ago. I’m begging you, help him.”
“I won’t hurt the kid,” Jeff said in disgust. She was Kray’s ex-wife. She’d known what the man she’d married was and now she was paying the price. That wasn’t his problem. But he understood about the child being a victim. Like J.J. had been a victim. “I can’t let you tell Kray I’m here.”
She laughed. The sound had a slightly hysterical edge to it. “Mister, if he finds me, he’s not going to bother with questions. Trust me.”
“It’s not that simple.”
They stared at each other. The woman blinked first.
“I guess we have a standoff,” she said. “What happens now?”
“You tell me your plan and then I decide what to do with you.”
She swallowed hard. He could see her weighing her alternatives. Her gaze strayed to the gun at his waist.
“If I wanted you dead, it would have been done by now,” he said.
“Thanks. That makes me feel better.”
He shrugged. “If you don’t want me coming with you, then you’re coming with me. Willing or not.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“That’s smart. But the way I see it, you don’t get a vote. I’m stronger, armed and I know what I’m doing.”
He could see her weighing her alternatives, and knew the moment she’d realized she didn’t have a choice in the matter. She must have figured out that he’d been telling the truth when he’d said if he’d wanted to kill her, she would be dead by now.
She’d been strong so far, but she was beginning to unravel around the edges. She had a lot of nerve to keep talking back to him. He would guess she was so close to the edge she either had to fight back as best she could, or fall off the other side. He gave her about four more hours