Sting

Instead, she kept her expression as impassive as she could, and he finally relented, straightening up, giving her space. She came to a full sitting position and for the first time in minutes, was able take a deep, even breath.

“You’re wrong about Josh and the stolen money,” she said. “Billy Panella absconded with it. Everybody knows that. He moved it somewhere out of the country.”

“Then flew off to enjoy a happy rendezvous with his millions?”

“Doesn’t that seem logical?”

“Perfectly. So answer me this,” he said. “If Panella is jacking off onto piles of money, why’s he so upset over Josh’s vanishing act?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he…he…” She came up empty.

“Hmm? What was that?” He gave her another moment to contribute something, and when she didn’t, he said, “Mickey told me Panella wanted to kill you in order to send Josh a message. He hasn’t forgiven or forgotten that your brother turned on him. I’m talking mafia-fashion revenge, Jordie. Panella’s mind-set is ‘Rat me out, I slaughter your family, preferably while you watch.’”

She didn’t need a lesson on Panella’s methodology. She was well educated on it.

Josh had been working at a small investment firm when Panella sought him out and made him an offer. It was an unlikely pairing: Panella with his tailored suits and the glibness of a snake oil salesman, and her shy, self-conscious, socially awkward brother. But Panella needed Josh’s genius mind, and it hadn’t taken much to woo him with flattery and promises of wealth. However, no sooner had Panella reeled him in than he established what Jordie considered an unhealthy working relationship. It angered and sickened her to see how Panella maintained control of her brother by preying on his weaknesses and insecurities, sometimes in ways that bordered on sadistic.

Also concerning were the rumors of Panella’s involvement in other enterprises in addition to the one he shared with Josh. She had begged Josh to see Billy Panella for what he was. At best, a manipulating bully. At worst, a shifty, possibly criminal, operator who couldn’t be trusted. As he was wont to do, Josh had taken a stubborn stance and turned a deaf ear to her pleas, citing jealousy as her reason for disliking his boss.

It was almost a relief to her when the house of cards that Josh and Panella had built finally collapsed. But it did so on Josh’s head. His participation in their crimes was unquestionable, so when the FBI gave him a chance to turn informant, she had pressured him to take the deal.

Panella had several reasons to resent her, but knowing that Josh wouldn’t have capitulated without her encouragement made her his sworn enemy, and based on the rumors circulating around him, Panella didn’t treat his enemies kindly.

For weeks after Josh was taken away and Panella presumably had left the country, she’d been wary and cautious of her surroundings, afraid that Panella would decide to get vengeance on her and, by extension, on Josh. Josh had even alluded to that possibility when he was trying to worm his way out of striking a deal with the FBI.

“He’ll kill you, too,” he’d wailed. “He’s told me he would.”

But as time passed and nothing happened, she’d relaxed her vigilance. Not until she saw Mickey Bolden and Shaw Kinnard approaching her last night did she realize that Josh hadn’t been merely theatric. His warning had been sincere.

Trying to hide her apprehension from her kidnapper, she said, “Panella has had six months to get revenge. Why now?”

Shaw replied in a quiet voice, “You know why, Jordie. Panella made his move when Josh made his. Maybe he knows your brother better than you do. Maybe he figured all along that Josh was playing the feds. He’s been sitting back waiting, and when Josh did exactly what Panella anticipated, he put into action the plan he’d had all along.”

“To kill me?”

“Figuring that killing you would be the harshest punishment to inflict on Josh for his betrayal. Also, if you’re dead, you can’t tell the feebs everything you know.”

“What I know?” she exclaimed. “I don’t know anything.”

“Panella must think you do.”

“Well, he’s wrong.”

“According to Mickey, after Panella went missing, you were grilled pretty good.”

She nodded, remembering those arduous sessions. “The FBI questioned me extensively over the course of several weeks. I couldn’t tell them anything, because I didn’t know anything.”

“Did they believe you?”

“Of course.”

He made a skeptical sound. “Why ‘of course’? Was it your honest face? Or did you bedazzle them by pulling a Sharon Stone in the interrogation room?”

Outraged, she surged to her feet.

“Sit down.” He placed his hand in the center of her chest and pushed her back onto the hood.

She encircled his wrist and pried his hand off her. “I told the FBI the truth and they believed me.”