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Whenever something unexpected happened, he’d seen Panella’s legendary temper erupt. But he’d also watched him quickly regain a cool head and deal with the problem. Never had panic or fear sidetracked him from achieving his objective.

Josh resolved not to be overtaken by them, either.

With hands now steady, he removed the battery from the phone and replaced both in the backpack. He wouldn’t call Jordie. Even if by some miracle he was able to talk to her, what could he say?

Panella had threatened to go after her first if Josh ever betrayed him. Hadn’t Josh dutifully passed along that warning to her?

Yes. Innumerable times.

She should have listened and been more careful. Whatever her fate, she had no one to blame but herself.

He must think only of what was best for him.

Chapter 11

 

Jordie angled away from Shaw, but there was no escaping his mesmerizing stare.

When she realized she was breathing through her mouth, she pressed her lips closed, but her respiration remained unsteady as she processed this distressing turn of events.

What could Josh be thinking?

He had cut a great deal, far better than she’d dared hope he would get. He’d driven a hard bargain, and the U.S. prosecutor had ultimately granted him full immunity in exchange for testifying against Billy Panella. Yet unbelievably her brother had squandered—

It was unbelievable, wasn’t it?

Her gaze narrowed on her abductor, who was still leaning over her, applying pressure without even touching her. “You’re a murdering, lying bastard. Why should I take your word for anything?”

“This isn’t a lie.”

“No? Tell me something that’ll convince me it’s the truth.”

“Your heart is still beating.”

He stated it without pause or contemplation. A simple fact. If Josh weren’t a factor, she would be dead. This man would have killed her long before now.

He said, “The instant you’re dead, your value tanks. Alive, you’re a bargaining chip.”

“With Panella.”

“And your brother.”

She scoffed at that. “Get over the notion that Josh has the money. Or even that he knows where it is. If he did, he would have surrendered it when he—”

“—bartered his soul by turning snitch?”

“Saved his soul by doing the right thing.”

“Saved his soul, my ass. Everything Saint Josh has done has been self-serving. But now he’s in a real pickle. He’s reneged on his deal with the feds. And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, he’s made laughingstocks of them for being taken in.

“If they catch him, they’ll throw the book at him. He’ll spend the rest of his life in federal prison. But he had better hope they catch him before Panella does. Because he’ll tear out your brother’s forked tongue, rip open his belly, throw him into the Gulf, and ring the dinner bell. Either way, Josh is sunk. Unless I get to him first.”

She feared his predictions about her brother’s future weren’t far off the mark. “If you reach him first, what then?”

“I convince him it’s in his best interest to give me a share of all that filthy lucre. He does that, we all go home happy. Well, not home. But you get the gist of it.”

“That’s your idea?”

“Damn good one, you ask me.”

She pressed her fingers to her forehead and rubbed the space between her eyebrows. “It’s a lousy idea, Mr. Kinnard. Based entirely on erroneous speculation. Josh doesn’t have the money, any money. And, say he did, say his pockets are stuffed with it, he could be anywhere in the country. How do you intend to track him down?”

“I won’t have to. He’ll come to me. Because I have you.” He shot her a crocodile’s grin. “Sooner or later he’ll hear about your abduction.”

“He’ll assume I’m dead.”

“Probably. Until you let him know otherwise.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“The same way you’ve been communicating with him all along.”

She actually laughed. “I haven’t had contact with my brother since he was taken into custody. Zero,” she said, forming an O with her fingers. “That was one of the conditions of the pact he made with the government.”

He just stared at her, unblinking, unmoving.

“All right, believe what you want,” she said. “The fact doesn’t change. I don’t know where Josh has been sequestered for the past six months, and I don’t know how to reach him. Period. End of discussion.”

“Like hell it is. We’re discussing the little brother who you protected from slippery stairs and rusty nails. You’re telling me that he hasn’t come crying to you since Tuesday when he ran afoul of big bad Uncle Sam?”

“It’s the truth.”

“You didn’t know he’d escaped?”

“No! Not until you told me.”

He bent down closer. “Even if I believed that he hasn’t contacted you in the past four days, which I don’t, the FBI would have jumped on you like a duck on a June bug. Like Billy Panella did. Want Josh Bennett and can’t find him? Easy. Stay on his sister, his next of kin, the first and only person he would scurry to when in trouble.”

“The FBI didn’t notify me of his escape.”

He stared her down as though trying to intimidate the truth out of her, which made her nervous, because she wasn’t an adept liar. Not that she was lying, exactly.

True, no government agency had officially informed her of Josh’s disappearance. But the authorities might very well have been keeping an eye on her to see if he would show up on her doorstep.

Last night, as she left her house for the bar, she’d noticed headlights in her rearview mirror. They had remained the same distance from her as she drove through town. It might have been perfectly harmless. But she’d been just paranoid enough to deliberately outdistance the other car when she reached the back roads.

She wasn’t about to share that with Shaw Kinnard, however.

Instead, she kept her expression as impassive as she could, and he finally relented, straightening up, giving her space. She came to a full sitting position and for the first time in minutes, was able take a deep, even breath.

“You’re wrong about Josh and the stolen money,” she said. “Billy Panella absconded with it. Everybody knows that. He moved it somewhere out of the country.”

“Then flew off to enjoy a happy rendezvous with his millions?”

“Doesn’t that seem logical?”

“Perfectly. So answer me this,” he said. “If Panella is jacking off onto piles of money, why’s he so upset over Josh’s vanishing act?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he…he…” She came up empty.

“Hmm? What was that?” He gave her another moment to contribute something, and when she didn’t, he said, “Mickey told me Panella wanted to kill you in order to send Josh a message. He hasn’t forgiven or forgotten that your brother turned on him. I’m talking mafia-fashion revenge, Jordie. Panella’s mind-set is ‘Rat me out, I slaughter your family, preferably while you watch.’”

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