Sting Page 92

“The guy didn’t turn around, but he waved his hand in acknowledgment. The shopkeeper was shown a picture of Josh taken off the security camera in the convenience store. He said he couldn’t be certain, but it looked like the same guy.”

“What time did he knock off?”

“Three thirty. Fifteen minutes before the last pickup.”

“And three and a half hours after Josh learned about Jordie’s kidnapping on the noon news,” Shaw said. Musing out loud, he added, “But he sent the package to Extravaganza anyway.”

“In desperation, I guess,” Wiley said. “He was hedging his bet that you’d already iced her. Like he did when he called me later that night and bargained with me for her safe return.”

“I guess.” The explanation didn’t quite gel, but Shaw said, “At least this gives us a place to start searching for his haven.”

“Haven?” Jordie asked.

“He’s bound to have one,” Wiley said and explained to her why he, Hickam, and Shaw thought so. “A place stockpiled with necessities where he could stay indefinitely. Someplace close to you.” Noticing Shaw’s frown, he said, “What? You disagree now?”

“No, Jordie’s definitely his security blanket. But maybe we’re being shortsighted. Maybe he didn’t come back to this area only because it represents home. Maybe he has unfinished business in the neighborhood.”

“The money?” Wiley ventured.

“That’s my theory,” Shaw said. “Because if Panella had it—”

“—he’d be lighting cigars with hundred-dollar bills,” Jordie said quietly.

“Right.” Shaw looked across at Wiley. “She’s quoting me.”

“Ah. Well, we won’t know who has what until we find either him or Panella.”

“Any leads on him?” Shaw said.

“NOPD is still convinced Hickam was shot by a gangbanger. They’re only halfheartedly circulating the BOLO for Panella.”

“Even after what Linda Meeker said about the weird voice?”

“They said that Linda Meeker was a hysterical preacher’s kid caught doing a naughty, so anything she said is unreliable, and, anyway, those devices are easily obtainable off the Internet.

“Said a guy like Royce Sherman would have made scores of enemies among his white trash acquaintances, which is no doubt true. Bottom line, they think Royce Sherman and Hick are unrelated cases and remain skeptical that Panella is within ten thousand miles of the Pelican State.”

“Skeptical my ass,” Shaw scoffed. “Probably some were on Panella’s payroll. Still are.”

“Come now,” Wiley said. “Are you suggesting there’s corruption in the NOPD?”

Shaw gave him a wry smile. “You’ve got locals searching in and around Bayou Gauche for Josh?”

“Plus a squad of U.S. marshals and state troopers. Wish we had Morrow, but it’s not his parish. Anyway, I told them to leave no stone unturned.”

Shaw pulled in as close as he could get to the main entrance of the FBI building. “Keep the motor running,” he said to Wiley. “I’ll walk Jordie in.”

“I’m not going in.”

Shaw and Wiley turned in unison toward the backseat. Jordie’s expression was as resolute as her tone. Further evidence that she meant business was the pistol she was holding on them.

Chapter 37

 

Shaw lifted his gaze from the palm pistol to Jordie’s face. “That looks like my Bobcat.”

“I was afraid you’d miss it inside your boot when you put them on.”

“I was in a hurry.”

“I took it to protect myself in case it wasn’t you who came back from the gate.”

“Smart move. But why are you pointing it at Wiley and me?”

“Keep your hands where I can see them, please.”

Shaw complied, actually raising his hands in surrender, which was vaguely mocking.

“I was about to give you the pistol back,” she said, “but then Agent Wiley said I was being dropped off with Gwen while the two of you hunt down my brother. I decided to keep the pistol and use it to persuade you that I should go along.”

Wiley looked over at Shaw. “This is what comes from sleeping with a suspect.”

“She’s not going to shoot me.”

“She stabbed you.”

“But she didn’t know then that I’m a federal agent. She knows better than to shoot a federal agent, or even to brandish a weapon at one, especially when she’s within full view of the fucking FBI building.” As he reached the end of all that, he was shouting.

“Please stop referring to me in the third person.”

“You’re holding two federal officers at gunpoint, and that’s what you’re worried about? Third person?”

“I’m worried about the well-being of my brother.”

He looked over at Wiley and said as an aside, “Lifetime pattern.”

“Enough, Shaw! Put the car in gear and drive.”

“I can’t do that and keep my hands where you can see them.”

“Stop being cute. I’m serious.”

“You’re really going to do this? Face criminal charges?”

“If I have to.”

“The chances of succeeding here are nil, Jordie. Wiley and I are both armed. Raised hands or not, between the two of us we can—”

“You’re not going to hurt me.”

“Right, I’m not. Because you’re going to come to your senses and give me the pistol. Now.” He pushed his right hand between the front seats.

She yanked the small handgun out of his reach.

“Give me the friggin’ pistol.”

“Or what?”

“I’ll take it from you if I have to,” he warned softly. “I don’t want to hurt you, but if it comes to that, I will.”

“No you won’t.”

“What makes you think so? You and me last night? That was a time-out. We’re back to business now.”

That smarted, but she stayed focused. “You won’t do anything—”

“Don’t count on that.”

“—because I know where Josh is.”

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