Sting

“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.”