Sting

“Maybe. But Panella must be of the mind that you told them something, even accidentally, that jeopardizes his clean getaway.”

“I didn’t.”

“You make him nervous, Jordie. Why else would he have contracted hit men to have you permanently silenced? Panella had retained Mickey to get rid of pests plenty of times, and for milder offenses than talking to the feds about him.”

“Well, you saw to it that Mickey is no longer a threat to me, didn’t you?”

“Panella’s got others. And he’s not above doing the deed himself. In fact, he’d enjoy it. Eye for an eye?” He chuffed. “Panella’s starter kit.”

Contrary to her own thoughts of moments earlier, she said, “Those are rumors. Exaggerations. Spun by people who w

anted to claim a closer acquaintance with him when he became a celebrated fugitive.”

“Rumors, huh? So what does that make Mickey and me? Figments of the imagination?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I sought Mickey Bolden out because even hit men talk, and the word going ’round our circle was that Panella paid well. If you think his only crime was stealing the life savings of hardworking folk, you’re deluding yourself.”

Josh had made vague allusions to Panella’s “powers of persuasion,” but he’d never given her specifics, and she hadn’t asked for them because she hadn’t wanted her suspicions of Panella’s sinister side confirmed. She didn’t want to acknowledge them now to Shaw Kinnard, who was painting a frightening picture to suit his own purposes.

She said, “All I know about Panella’s business is what everyone does. He stole thirty million dollars and disappeared with it.”

“He hasn’t quite disappeared,” he said. “Mickey was on the phone with him as recently as last night.”

“He could have been talking to him from anywhere in the world. Switzerland. Kathmandu. South America.”

“Could have.” Two vertical furrows appeared between his brows. “But if Panella was in South America with thirty million at his disposal, he would be lounging on a beach, getting blown by dusky girls in thong bikinis, and the furthest thing from his mind would be the sister of his moneyman who turned snitch.

“If Panella had access to the money, he would have severed all ties with the good ol’ U.S. of A. and everybody in it. Instead, the man’s obsessed. He didn’t want you leaving that bar alive, and I predict he’ll go apeshit when I inform that you ain’t dead. Now why would he care so much?

“He’s also paranoid as hell,” he continued. “Mickey said he uses one of those voice synthesizer things to garble his speech. If he was in Switzerland or Kathmandu, why’s he bothering to disguise his voice? See where I’m going with this, Jordie? If he was languishing somewhere, using hundred-dollar bills to light his cigars, he wouldn’t give a flying fuck that Josh had gone aground. Instead, Josh’s flight last Tuesday made him angry and antsy and mean.”

She tried not to reveal how uneasy she became over the thought of Panella being angry, antsy, and mean. It didn’t bode well for her or Josh. “How did he even find out that Josh had escaped? There’s been nothing on the news about it.”

“You can bet the FBI are good and pissed off that their star witness welshed on the deal, but they’re not gonna go on TV and broadcast that they let a bean counter slip through their fingers.”

“Then how did Panella hear about it?”

“I asked Mickey that. He claimed not to know, and maybe he didn’t. I’m guessing that Panella has moles in law enforcement. He had to have had help getting away. Fake IDs. Private aircraft. He could spread around a lot of graft with thirty mil.”

“You said he didn’t have it.”

“Not the jackpot, but he would have kept a million or two handy to cover expenses.”

“Like your retainer.”

“Yeah, like that. Two hundred grand, minimum.” He placed his hands over his knees and bent at the waist to bring them to eye level. “But you don’t have to worry about me icing you if you’ll tell me where your brother is.”

“We’re back to that?”

“Where is he, Jordie?”

“How much clearer can I make it? I. Don’t. Know.”

“Do yourself a favor. Don’t hold out on me.”

“I’m not.”

“Four days and Josh hasn’t made contact with you in some way, shape, or form?”

“No.”