Body of Evidence (Evidence Series) by Rachel Grant

emotional embargo was ended without regret. And now his lofty goals were finally within reach. If— when —Stevens was convicted, Curt was all but assured to be named the next attorney general of the United States.
    But there was something about Mara Garrett that made him want to forgo control, to forget hazard.
    And he couldn’t place her on the next flight off the island and be done with her.
    Stevens’s niece was the last person he could get involved with. He’d be compromising his case, his role as prosecutor, and his career. Plus he’d known from the start there was the possibility she’d asked the North Koreans to make him the envoy. She could be the reason he was stuck on Oahu and would miss the start of the trial.
    And right now, with the hum of desire running through his veins, he couldn’t muster the outrage to give a damn.

C HAPTER T WELVE

    T HE SMALL FISHING boat was moored at the end of the long pier and was a welcome sight to Mara at the end of what was quite literally the longest day of her life. The small vessel rocked as she climbed aboard, the swaying motion nearly knocking her off her tired feet.
    The corners of Curt’s eyes crinkled with warmth as he boarded. “This is perfect, Mara.”
    She quickly opened the padlock securing the cabin hatch. “It’s small,” she warned.
    He followed her inside. The cabin was so tiny she had to climb onto the V-shaped bunk just to make room for him.
    Five feet across at the widest point, the cabin quickly narrowed to the apex of the bow. From bow to hatch it was maybe nine feet—three feet of cramped kitchen on one side of a narrow center aisle, the door to the tiny head on the other. The aisle was a short rectangle of space that ended at the foot of the six-foot-long, V-shaped bed, which filled the bow from starboard to port. She and Curt would have to share the small bed. There was no other option.
    They ate sitting across from each other on the bed. “Ohmygod,” she said through a mouthful of food. “This is the best meal I’ve ever had in my life.”
    “You know, earlier you said the same thing about Spam.”
    She laughed, and her cheeks warmed at the reminder of her behavior.
    He cocked his head to the side. “Did they bring you a last meal in North Korea?”
    “Yes, but for some strange reason, I couldn’t eat it.”
    “I wouldn’t mind strangling the person who decided not to tell you I was en route.”
    “They didn’t tell me anything. Ever.” She’d wondered why, of all the names she’d floated as potential envoys, the dictator had chosen him. “Did the TIME article mention you wanted me to testify in the trial?”
    He nodded. “According to the State Department, the ultimatum included the phrase, ‘He wants her? He can come get her.’” Curt paused. “I spent an hour with Kim. The whole time, he grinned and was jovial and very curious about my job. I’m a government employee, tasked with prosecuting politicians and mobsters. He’s the leader of a dictatorship. There is no one equivalent to me in his world, and he was clearly trying to understand how the US can operate when a man beneath the president has the power to destroy him. In North Korea, the only threat to power is their own military. He asked about the headline on the cover.”
    “What did it say?”
    He grimaced. “‘US Attorney Curt Dominick: Bringing down American Government one Politician at a Time.’”
    She couldn’t help it. She laughed. No wonder Kim had bit. Given what she’d seen of the anti-American sentiment in North Korea, those words probably made Curt a superstar there.
    “We’ll never know his real reason for demanding me, but at the heart of it all, I got the sense his interest was genuine.”
    “What did you think of him?”
    “I was scared shitless I’d say the wrong thing and end up in the cell next to yours.”
    “But the whole world knew you were there; he’d never get away with that.”
    “Mara, it’s North Korea. They can do