Sting

With only a few miles remaining until they reached Bayou Gauche, Shaw, Wiley, and Jordie discussed terms.

The two men agreed to hold off notifying the law enforcement teams already conducting a search for Josh for the reason specified—that Jordie held more sway over her brother than anyone.

“The less pressure he feels, the better our chances that he’ll see reason and surrender,” she told them.

Addressing Wiley, Shaw backed her. “Besides, if we get a bunch of eager beaver lawmen hopped up before we even know that there is a house and that Josh is there, then my cover’s blown for no good reason, and you look like an idiot for believing in a tale about twinkling lights spun by the fugitive’s sister.”

“I’ll go along,” Wiley said, speaking over his shoulder to Jordie. “And you’ll get your chance to talk sense to him. But if he doesn’t surrender within a few minutes, or does something the least bit nutso, I’m calling for backup. And I mean it. And I don’t care if you do shoot me. Got that?”

“Goes double for me,” Shaw said.

“Give me five minutes with him.”

“Three,” Shaw said.

She could tell by his stubborn tone that he wasn’t giving on that.

“All right, three. And promise me that Josh won’t be harmed.”

“Can’t promise that, Jordie,” Shaw said with all sincerity, “because we can’t predict what he will do.”

He was right, of course. She wished for a peaceful, casualty-free outcome, but neither Shaw, nor anyone, could guarantee it. The denouement depended largely upon her brother’s emotional stability, and that wasn’t a reassuring prospect.

“Something else to consider,” Wiley said. “We might run into Panella.”

“Nothing to consider,” Shaw said. “We run into Panella, he gets no more time to surrender than instantly before I blow him to kingdom come.”

After that, the three of them lapsed into a somber silence like soldiers mentally gearing up for a dangerous mission.

Another grim possibility had occurred to Jordie: Before they reached Josh, he might be located by another law officer. If he tried to get away, he could be wounded or killed in the attempt. She felt that time was running out for her brother and willed Shaw to drive as fast as he could.

But as they entered the town of Bayou Gauche, she was seized by dread and uncertainty as to how the day would play out.

“Okay, which way?” Shaw asked from the driver’s seat.

“If I’m remembering correctly, the house was on this side of town and off in that direction.” She pointed. “Take a left at the first stoplight.”

Just as they made the turn, Wiley’s cell phone beeped. He checked the readout. “Hickam’s mom.”

“Take it.” Shaw pulled into a filling station parking lot. “I have some rules of engagement to talk over with Jordie.”

Wiley got out and answered his phone as he stepped away from the car.

Jordie, unhappy over the delay, said, “Rules of engagement?”

“Nonnegotiable rules. First.” Shaw extended his hand through the space between the front seats.

She hesitated, then laid the pistol in his open palm. “It was a rash move, I’ll admit. But would you have brought me along otherwise?”

“No way in hell. Would you have shot me?”

“I seriously considered it when you called last night only a time-out.”

“I said that to test you, see what you’d do.”

“I realize that now.”

They shared a meaningful look, then he gave his head a small shake as though to pull him back into the here and now. “The threat of being shot didn’t convert me to your way of thinking. You made sense. If we find Josh, you could be a valuable asset.”