Page 121 of Sting
On the television, a news reporter was trying to get a sound bite from Deputy Morrow, whom she recognized from her rescue the day before. He was pushing his way through a throng, saying nothing except, “No comment at this time.”
The undaunted reporter turned to the camera and said, “Although authorities are reluctant to disclose details of the homicide, unnamed sources have told our newsroom that Royce Sherman was killed execution style with a single gunshot.”
Beginning to worm through Jordie was a suspicion that Josh’s ranting wasn’t so farfetched after all. What he was saying came uncomfortably close to Shaw’s warning. You can’t protect your brother from Panella.
Nevertheless, she hastily dismissed the possibility that Panella was nearby and doing his own killing rather than hiring professionals. That was too frightening a thought to entertain.
Besides, whenever her brother was having a meltdown of this caliber, one of them had to remain calm and rational. She said, “For the sake of argument, let’s say that Panella never left the United States. Why would he care about a smart-aleck bragging about his encounter with me? He would have much more important things to worry about.”
“That’s right. He does. Me! He’s got me to worry about. That’s what I’m trying to tell you! He’s going to kill me.”
“If you’re that afraid of him, Josh, turn yourself in.”
“They’ll put me in prison and throw away the key.”
“Well, which are you more afraid of?” she asked angrily. “Prison or Billy Panella?” She could just see him worrying the corner of his lip between his teeth. At least he was no longer screeching. She reigned in her own temper and switched to a cajoling tone.
“You’ve placed yourself in a no-win situation, Josh. You played both ends against the middle and lost, leaving you only two choices. Turn yourself in, or continue living in fear of Panella until either he or a hired assassin ferrets you out. Clearly, your best option is to surrender yourself to the authorities.”
“And be punished for things that aren’t my fault.”
“They are your fault.”
“You want me dead, don’t you? You hope I die. You want me out of your life forever. You always have.”
She bowed her head and rubbed her hairline where a headache was coming on. “Don’t say things like that. You know they’re not true.”
“When Panella gets to me, when they find me with a bullet in my head, you’ll have finally gotten what you want, which is rid of me!”
With that, the phone went dead.
After Shaw dropped his bombshell in Morrow’s office, things happened quickly.
Morrow turned over the questioning of Linda Meeker to the two detectives who’d been interviewing her before. Her father’s bellowing could be heard throughout the building, publicly denouncing her for a long list of sins that would land her in Hell.
If Shaw had had the strength to lay into the judgmental son of a bitch, he would have. But he barely had the stamina to walk to the car with Wiley and Hickam. He stripped off the hot-as-Hades hoodie and the sunglasses and practically fell into the backseat.
He got out of sight just in time. Before they were even clear of the parking lot, two news vans in an obvious race pulled up in front of the sheriff’s office.
“Crap,” Hickam said.
“It was only a matter of time,” Wiley said. “Two murders originating in one backwoods bar within a few days? Had to make news even if it’s dismissed as a bizarre coincidence.”
“Morrow said he would personally flay and filet anyone who leaked the girl’s name to the media,” Shaw said. “But it’ll get out.”
“Morrow’s gonna have people guarding her house,” Wiley said.
Shaw was only marginally reassured. He trusted Morrow, but he thought about the sloppy surveillance that had been done on Jordie.
Hickam said, “It’ll really turn into a circus if Panella’s name gets attached to the crime.”
“Morrow’s going to keep that speculation out of the media,” Wiley said.
“Except it’s not speculation.”
Wiley conceded Shaw’s point. “It’s scary to think he’s in the area. But I’d be lying if I pretended I’m not a little glad. I’d love to nail the bastard once and for all without having to go to the edge of nowhere in order to find him.” He looked at Hickam. “You notify the marshal’s service?”
“Gave the guy a hard-on.”
