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.”

“Maybe. But Panella must be of the mind that you told them something, even accidentally, that jeopardizes his clean getaway.”

“I didn’t.”

“You make him nervous, Jordie. Why else would he have contracted hit men to have you permanently silenced? Panella had retained Mickey to get rid of pests plenty of times, and for milder offenses than talking to the feds about him.”

“Well, you saw to it that Mickey is no longer a threat to me, didn’t you?”

“Panella’s got others. And he’s not above doing the deed himself. In fact, he’d enjoy it. Eye for an eye?” He chuffed. “Panella’s starter kit.”

Contrary to her own thoughts of moments earlier, she said, “Those are rumors. Exaggerations. Spun by people who wanted to claim a closer acquaintance with him when he became a celebrated fugitive.”

“Rumors, huh? So what does that make Mickey and me? Figments of the imagination?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I sought Mickey Bolden out because even hit men talk, and the word going ’round our circle was that Panella paid well. If you think his only crime was stealing the life savings of hardworking folk, you’re deluding yourself.”

Josh had made vague allusions to Panella’s “powers of persuasion,” but he’d never given her specifics, and she hadn’t asked for them because she hadn’t wanted her suspicions of Panella’s sinister side confirmed. She didn’t want to acknowledge them now to Shaw Kinnard, who was painting a frightening picture to suit his own purposes.

She said, “All I know about Panella’s business is what everyone does. He stole thirty million dollars and disappeared with it.”

“He hasn’t quite disappeared,” he said. “Mickey was on the phone with him as recently as last night.”

“He could have been talking to him from anywhere in the world. Switzerland. Kathmandu. South America.”

“Could have.” Two vertical furrows appeared between his brows. “But if Panella was in South America with thirty million at his disposal, he would be lounging on a beach, getting blown by dusky girls in thong bikinis, and the furthest thing from his mind would be the sister of his moneyman who turned snitch.

“If Panella had access to the money, he would have severed all ties with the good ol’ U.S. of A. and everybody in it. Instead, the man’s obsessed. He didn’t want you leaving that bar alive, and I predict he’ll go apeshit when I inform that you ain’t dead. Now why would he care so much?

“He’s also paranoid as hell,” he continued. “Mickey said he uses one of those voice synthesizer things to garble his speech. If he was in Switzerland or Kathmandu, why’s he bothering to disguise his voice? See where I’m going with this, Jordie? If he was languishing somewhere, using hundred-dollar bills to light his cigars, he wouldn’t give a flying fuck that Josh had gone aground. Instead, Josh’s flight last Tuesday made him angry and antsy and mean.”

She tried not to reveal how uneasy she became over the thought of Panella being angry, antsy, and mean. It didn’t bode well for her or Josh. “How did he even find out that Josh had escaped? There’s been nothing on the news about it.”

“You can bet the FBI are good and pissed off that their star witness welshed on the deal, but they’re not gonna go on TV and broadcast that they let a bean counter slip through their fingers.”