“What is Shaw Kinnard’s condition?” she blurted. “Did he make it through the surgery all right?”

The two men exchanged an uneasy glance.

Jordie’s stomach plummeted. “He died?”

Wiley cleared his throat. “No. He came through the surgery okay and was expected to make a full recovery.”

She tried to keep her relief from being too obvious. But then she caught the tense of the verb. “Was expected?”

No longer the genial family man harassed by a faulty toilet, Wiley now assumed his game face. “About fifteen minutes ago, we got a call from the Houma hospital’s administrator. Preemptive, I think. He’s covering his…behind.”

“For what?”

“Kinnard is en route to a trauma center here in New Orleans. His condition is a lot more serious this time.”

Jordie’s ribs seemed to shrink around her lungs. She couldn’t take in sufficient air. “More serious than what I…what I did to him?”

“The admin guy described him as being critical. Of course, he’s not a doctor.”

She wheezed. “What happened?”

Wiley’s frown deepened. “An assistant DA here in Orleans Parish, name of Xavier Dupaw, failed to indict Kinnard on two murder raps when he had the chance to. He’s been eating crow ever since. He heard about Kinnard’s capture and went to see him in the hospital this morning.

“No one knows exactly what was said between them, and, believe me, Dupaw can be provoking as hell. Whatever he said caused Kinnard to go apeshit, if you’ll pardon the French. He started yanking on his restraints, yelling that he was gonna kill Dupaw if it was the last thing he ever did.

“The admin guy described quite a scene. The upshot of it? Kinnard was too aggressive and hostile to be left down there in Houma. Dupaw insisted that he be moved immediately to a more secure facility, a hospital with bars on the windows, concertina wire around the perimeter, and dozens of guards, not just one deputy outside his door, who Dupaw described as ‘green as they come.’” He paused and looked at her with concern. “You want some water, Ms. Bennett?”

She shook her head.

“You sure?”

“Please go on.”

He hesitated, then resumed. “The hospital staff objected to him being moved, said their patient wasn’t up to it, that he wasn’t out of danger yet. Since Kinnard is technically Morrow’s prisoner, Dupaw enlisted his help.

“After some arm-twisting, Deputy Morrow got the surgeon’s clearance to make the transfer. The admin guy signed off on it. That’s where the ass covering comes in. He doesn’t want to be held responsible for what came later.”

Jordie’s throat was too constricted to ask what had come later.

Wiley took a deep breath. He looked over at Hickam, who gave him a nod of encouragement to continue. “Somehow—we don’t know the details yet, because we’ve been unable to confirm with Morrow. But somehow while in transit, Kinnard got hold of that green deputy’s service revolver. Busted out of the ambulance and took off on foot. Almost made good his escape. Morrow managed to, uh, stop him.”

“Stop him.”

“We were told he ordered Kinnard to halt. He didn’t. Morrow had no choice.”

“He shot him?”

Wiley just looked at her, which was answer enough. “They packed him back into the ambulance and, since they were closer to New Orleans, continued on this way rather than returning to Houma. I think the admin guy in Houma is relieved that it’s out of his hands.”

“Because he doesn’t expect him to survive.”

“He didn’t come out and say it, but that’s what I gathered.” Wiley ran a hand around the back of his neck. “I hate this for Morrow. He told me yesterday morning after Kinnard was apprehended that he was damned glad he hadn’t had to use his weapon. Said he hoped to go his whole career without ever having to hurt anybody. He must’ve jinxed himself.” He paused before adding quietly, “I’m sure we’ll hear from him when…when he has something definite to tell us.”

Jordie lowered her head and stared vacantly at the chipped edge of the particleboard table. Her ears were echoing the doleful beating of her heart.

“Shaw Kinnard was, is, a violent man, Ms. Bennett,” Hickam said. “With heinous crimes to his credit.”

She merely nodded.

Wiley said, “I know you have mixed feelings about this.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Why?”

She raised her head and looked at Wiley, who seemed genuinely puzzled. “He wasn’t violent with me. He frightened me, but didn’t do anything heinous. He was offered a lot of money to kill me.” She raised her shoulders. “He didn’t.”

No one said anything for a stretch of time. Then Wiley said, “That’s not the only development we’ve had this morning. The other relates to your brother.”

She covered her mouth, whimpering, “Oh, God. No. Don’t tell me—”

“He’s alive,” Wiley said quickly. “At least he was a few hours ago.”

When he saw a question forming on her lips, he held up a hand. “I’ll start the official questioning by telling you what we know. Uh, Hick, would you hit the switch on the video, please?” Then to her, he said with apology, “Procedure.”

When the camera was on and recording, he continued. “The canines picked up Josh’s trail in the woods and tracked him to a storage facility that was three miles from there, give or take. The security cameras at the facility caught him before he disabled the system.”

“How did he do that?”

“It was old. Hardwired. We think he simply cut the power source. Management of the place provided us records. Josh rented the space using a fake name and paid for twelve months in advance. His unit was empty save for a motor oil stain in the middle of the floor.”

“He kept a car there?” she asked.

“Looks like.”

“He sold his car before being sent to Tennessee.”

“And the single mother who bought it still has it,” Wiley told her. “Hick checked on that this morning.”

The other agent confirmed that with a nod.

“Your brother has a different set of wheels,” Wiley continued. “We don’t know what kind, because no one spotted him driving away from that storage outfit. But he’s no longer so confident of his escape.” He paused to take a breath. “He called me this morning a little before dawn.”