Page 98 of Sting
Morrow said, “Still at large.”
“And the feds think his sister can lead them to him?” He made a scoffing sound. “Wish them luck.”
Morrow came back to the bed. “Why do you say that?”
Shaw gauged the deputy’s apparent interest, then said to the nurse, “Beat it.”
Her sizable chest swelled with indignation. “I beg your pardon?”
Shaw fixed his coldest, most intimidating stare on her. She gathered her dignity and marched out. He returned his attention to Morrow. “Jordie Bennett doesn’t know anything. Not about her brother. Not about Panella.”
“That’s what she told you.”
“I was trying to squeeze more money out of the deal. I grilled her under pain of death. I put her through hell. Didn’t she tell Wiley all this?”
“She alluded to your death threats and persistence. But there were gaps in her story that Wiley wants filled.”
“What kind of gaps?”
The nurse reappeared, bringing with her a staff supervisor and the deputy guarding his room. The guard said, “Sorry, Sergeant Morrow. They’re kicking you out.”
Morrow said to Shaw, “I’ll be back later.”
“Wait a goddamn minute! These gaps in Jordie’s statement. Are they regarding her brother? Panella? What?”
“Probably all of the above. You included.”
“If she’d known anything about Panella or her brother, she would’ve told me.”
“Or stabbed you.” Morrow held Shaw’s gaze for several seconds, then the corner of his mouth hiked up in a quasismile. “Kinda makes you wonder who rooked who, doesn’t it?”
He turned to go. The people grouped in the open doorway parted for him. In a voice too low to hear, he said something to the deputy, then walked away. The others dispersed. The nurse Shaw had insulted shot him a spiteful look and pulled the door partially shut.
As he resettled on the hard pillow, his thoughts swirled around Jordie, star of his drug-inspired, X-rated dreams, sister of a criminal, object of Billy Panella’s affection.
Although she’d denied that, it was logical to assume. Panella had the hots for her, she’d spurned him, and he—
Or had she spurned him?
Morrow hinted that Shaw had been a chump to trust her. Obviously the FBI doubted her trustworthiness. She’d left gaps in the account she’d given Joe Wiley, and it was bedeviling Shaw to wonder what they were.
Hearing murmured voices just outside his room, he raised his head as the door was eased open. When he saw who his new visitor was, he swore under his breath.
“Not a very nice greeting.” Xavier Dupaw, assistant district attorney of Orleans Parish, came to the side of his bed and took him in from head to toe, tsking. “My, my. Look at you.”
The prosecutor tried and failed to contain a smirk. “You are in deep, deep doo-doo this time, Mr. Kinnard. Up to your ungroomed eyebrows in Panella’s doo-doo.” More tsking. “Of course, a day and a half spent alone with Jordie Bennett was a fringe benefit.” He winked.
Shaw wanted to tear out the guy’s jugular with his teeth.
“No wiggle room for you this time, my friend.” Dupaw leaned down and whispered with devilish glee, “Let’s get this party started!”
Chapter 25
Jordie kept the television in her bedroom tuned to the network morning shows, anticipating the local stations’ break-ins. Because of their brevity, her rescue was only touched upon, and there was no mention of Shaw’s condition. She paced until Gwen knocked on her door and told her that their Continental breakfast had arrived.
While sipping a cup of strong coffee, it occurred to Jordie how ill-advised it would be to meet with Agents Wiley and Hickam without having legal representation there. She didn’t want to appear guilty of any wrongdoing. But she wasn’t naïve, either.
She borrowed Gwen’s phone to call the lawyer who’d been at her side when she was questioned six months earlier and therefore was familiar with the case.
