Page 80 of Sting
“But he treated Josh like a doormat and Josh permitted him to. He did what he was told and rarely crossed Panella. I hated that. But their working relationship was between the two of them. I stayed out of it.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“I doubt it. Want to know why? Because Panella seems to resent you almost as much as he despises your brother.” He waited for her to comment and when she didn’t he asked for one.
She said, “There’s no love lost between us.”
“Hmm. Interesting choice of words. I asked Mickey what your relationship was with Panella. He said he didn’t think you had one. That you were just Josh’s next of kin, and, as such, you were a pawn, and that was all there was to it.”
“There you have it.”
“No, I don’t think so. In my experience, if a man wants a woman dead to the tune of two million, his reason usually involves R-rated activities. What I’m thinking—and tell me if I’m getting warm—”
“Just drop it, please?”
“Panella had a lech for you.”
She didn’t say yea or nay.
“You turned him down.”
She didn’t respond.
“Which irked him, and he’s still irked. But he must have gotten some satisfaction from scaring off your boyfriend.”
Her reaction to that was swift and angry. “What do you know about it?”
He gave a meager, nonapologetic shrug. “Mickey liked to gossip, and we had time to kill.”
“While you were tailing me all over Tobias.”
“What happened with the boyfriend? Panella edged in on him?”
“No. There’s never—ever—been anything remotely romantic between Panella and me. From either side.”
“Then why aren’t you and the boyfriend still together?”
“What does it matter?”
“Maybe it doesn’t. But humor me.” He nodded toward the door. “I’m a man on his way to the gallows.”
“In which case one would think you’d rather talk about something else. Your immortal soul, for instance.”
“It’s doomed. No amount of talking will change that. Besides, I want to talk about this.”
“I don’t.”
“What happened with—”
“He got married.”
The waspish answer momentarily silenced them. Then, in a more even tone, she repeated. “He got married. Saint Louis Cathedral. All the trimmings. The union of two families with roots deeply imbedded in New Orleans society.”
Watching her closely, he said, “Bitter pill?”
She gave a rueful smile. “No. I bear Jackson no ill will. He’s a nice man. Too nice to have become involved in a scandal.”
