She backed onto it, but looked ready to spring off it at any second, and he noticed the furtive glances she kept casting toward the back of the building.

He touched his throbbing cheekbone with the heel of his hand. The skin hadn’t split, but it was swelling. “That hurt like bloody hell.”

“Don’t expect an apology.”

He removed the battery from Mickey’s phone, but as he slid the two components into one pocket, he withdrew another phone from his other pocket. Recognizing the Extravaganza logo on the case, she sat up at attention.

“That’s mine.”

“That’s right.”

“You told me you’d hidden it.”

“I retrieved it this afternoon while you were asleep.”

He opened the back of her phone and inserted the battery. “By powering it up, I’m taking a chance that the signal will be triangulated and bring the law right to us. But I want you to see something. Your fate really is up to you.” He clicked the phone on. When he got to her call log, he turned the screen toward her.

“Last night, nine twenty-three, incoming call. No ID, no number. But you called it back three minutes later, and again at nine forty-seven. I’m guessing that call was made while you were driving, because your house is several miles from that bar out in the boonies. At roughly ten o’clock you walked in and took a bar stool, looking as out of place as a frosted cupcake atop a pile of cowshit.

“Only one person would get you to a honky tonk like that in record time. Now…” He bent over her, bringing his nose to within inches of hers. “Where is brother Josh?”

She wilted. “That’s my saving grace?”

“That’s it.”

“Then I’m dead.”

“That’s entirely up to you. You die or you live. I either take Panella’s measly two million, or you direct me to Josh and his thirty.”

“I can’t! I’ve told you a hundred times that I don’t know where he is!”

“You also told me that nobody called you to that bar,” he shouted, shaking the cell phone near her face. “You lied about that, you’re lying now.”

She sat back and folded her arms across her chest. He noticed the red marks and bruises on her wrists left by the cuffs, and that gave him a pang of regret, but he didn’t let it stop him.

“Josh put in a distress call, didn’t he, Jordie? An SOS. He asked you to come pick him up at that out-of-the-way bar.”

“No.”

“And drive him to a hiding place?”

“No.”

“Or maybe he didn’t have a hiding place yet and needed your trusted input. Were you going to have a brother-sister confab and discuss options?”

“No.”

“Was he going to leave a message for you at the bar, let you know where he was headed?”

When she didn’t reply to that, he tilted his head. “Was that it?”

“No.”

“Where was he going?”

“I don’t know! Stop with the questions. You’re only wasting your breath. I haven’t talked to Josh. He didn’t call me last night.”

“You’re lying.”

She gave her head a firm shake.

“Then if it wasn’t Josh, who did you talk to on the phone?”

“Nobody,” she said, but the turbulence in her eyes evidenced how fast the wheels of her mind were spinning.

He pressed, but asked softly, “Who did you talk to?”

“Why should I tell you anything?”

“Because you know what will happen if you don’t.”

“I know what will happen if I do!”

“We’ll go to Josh—”

“You’ll kill both of us.”

“And pass on the thirty million? I don’t think so.”

“Josh hasn’t got the—”

“Who called you?”

“—money.”

“Who did you talk to?”

“No one!”

“Tell me now, or by God, I’m taking Panella’s deal.”

She sucked in a breath, wet her lips, and said huskily, “I didn’t talk to anybody.”

“Jesus, Jordie, don’t—”

“But I—”

“—be stupid.”

“But I did get a call.”

Chapter 17

A rumble of thunder interrupted the sudden and taut silence between them. Shaw didn’t seem to notice. Her admission had cemented his attention on her.

She asked, “May I have some water, please?”

He straightened up and walked over to the car. Leaning into the driver’s seat, he reached beneath the dashboard for the trunk release. The lid popped open, the light inside came on, and Jordie was grateful for it and the dome light. With only the slate-gray remnants of daylight eking through the cracks in the walls, it had grown almost completely dark inside the building.

The back half of it was especially dark.

He returned to her with a bottle of water. She thanked him and drank deeply. When she’d had all she wanted, he took the bottle from her. “We’re running low.” He drank the rest, threw the empty bottle into the trunk, then came back to her.

“Male or female?”

“What?”

“The person who called you.”

“Male.”

“But it wasn’t Josh?”

“I don’t think so. It might have been, but I don’t think so. His voice was muffled.”

“Panella and his silly machine?”

“No. Nothing like that. Just—”

“—muffled.”

“Yes.”

“What did this muffled voice that might or might not have been Josh say?”

She ignored his patent skepticism. “He said, ‘If you want information about your brother, come now.’ He emphasized the now and told me where the bar was located. He didn’t give me a chance to ask or say anything before disconnecting.”

He thought all that over. “What did he say when you called back?”

“I did so directly because I needed better directions on where to find the bar. His had been rushed and imprecise. But when I called, he didn’t answer.”

“Although he’d just called you?”