Sting Page 75
“Yes, and there was no letup. The more I or anyone did for him, the more he demanded. He didn’t take personal responsibility for anything. No matter what the transgression or failure was, it wasn’t his fault. His life became one huge ‘if only.’ If only he weren’t scarred, he could play sports, make more friends, girls would like him.”
Feeling the weight of that unceasing burden to keep Josh happy and on an even keel, she propped herself on the windowsill. “I started out wanting to protect my little brother from further harm and ridicule. Then, I don’t know, making up for that Christmas morning became a pattern.”
“Until no matter what you do, even to this day, it’s never enough. ”
A reply was unnecessary. Shaw said, “But you’ve enabled him to abuse you like that.”
“I’m well aware.”
“Then why don’t you tell him to fuck off?” Immediately he dismissed his question with a wave of his hand. “Never mind. I understand why you don’t. Not even when he insisted you go away for the weekend with his boss.”
“Back to that,” she sighed.
“Comes around like a bad penny.”
His sharp gaze stripped away her defenses until she actually felt exposed and raw. She covered her face with her hands and drew such deep breaths to bolster herself that Shaw spoke her name with concern. When at last she lowered her hands, she still couldn’t bring herself to look at him directly.
“I lied to Joe Wiley and Agent Hickam. I’ve lied to you,” she said softly. “I went to Costa Rica to help Panella and Josh swindle several hundred thousand dollars. I don’t know the total, but the amount isn’t as significant as the fact that I participated in the…the con, I guess you’d call it.”
Exhaling deeply, he sat forward, planted his elbows on his knees, and pressed his thumbs against his temples.
Quietly, she said, “You were right, you see, to place me under arrest.”
He dropped his hands between his knees and looked over at her. “What’d you do?”
“What I’m good at. I hosted parties. Two dinners, one brunch. Served by white-coated waiters in the private courtyard of the villa I shared with Panella. I ordered the food, liquor, the floral arrangements, boxes of Cuban cigars for the gentlemen guests, Hermès scarves for the ladies.
“During the events themselves, small affairs actually, I played gracious hostess while Panella handed out colorful brochures featuring a place that didn’t exist. At least not where he said it did. He pitched it as a retirement paradise for the well-heeled and discriminating. He encouraged the couples to buy partnerships in it while the getting was good. Of course, as partial owners they’d get first choice of the homesites overlooking either the sugar beach or the Emerald Golf Course.”
“Did you know at the time that it was fictitious? Or were you duped along with the potential investors?”
“That’s hard to say.”
“No it isn’t. Yes. No. Both easy to say.”
“I didn’t ask whether or not it was real because I didn’t want to know. But that makes me no less culpable. I believed it was all a fraud, yet I stood by and watched nice people sign their money over to Panella.”
“How much was your take?”
“Zero. Nothing. I’m not a thief.”
He shook his head in perplexity. “Then what was your inducement?”
“Josh was the first to broach the idea. I was a professional party giver. I knew how to put people at ease, show them a good time, get them to relax. I would give Panella a classy veneer. I’d look good on his arm. Josh actually used those phrases, although I’m sure Panella coached him on what to say. I refused even to hear him out. I told him not only no, but hell no.
“But Josh didn’t let it go. He said that his job, ergo his life, hinged on my doing him this one tiny favor. Was it too much to ask? Could I be so selfish as to refuse? And he used the old standby: Didn’t I owe it to him?”
Shaw expressed his disgust with a terse vulgarity. She gave him a weak smile. “I’m giving you the abridged version. Josh kept after me for months. I continued to refuse. Then one evening as I was leaving Extravaganza, Panella ambushed me. He said it would be much healthier for Josh’s career if I helped with this project.
“I actually laughed and told him that it would suit me fine if he fired Josh, that I’d rather my brother never work another day for him. Then I told him to go to hell, got in my car, drove home.”
She paused and stared blankly for a moment before focusing on Shaw. “That was the night I learned that Panella doesn’t take no for an answer. He texted me in the wee hours. After seeing the text, I texted back agreeing to make the trip and act as his hostess.”
“What’d he say in the text?” Shaw asked darkly.
“Nothing. Not a single word.”
“He must have threatened you with something.”
“A cell phone video. He had rigged this effigy of Josh and dressed it in a pair of pajamas. He doused it with gasoline, held a cigarette lighter to it, it burst into flames.”
Shaw closed his eyes briefly. “Jesus Christ.”
“Josh is terrified of fire, you see. Of being burned. I…well…” She scooped her hair off her nape and rubbed it as she tiredly arched her back to stretch. “Effective inducement, wouldn’t you say?”
“The sadistic son of a bitch.”
“Yes. But it worked. I went to Coast Rica and did my part. On the flight home, Panella reached across the armrest and patted my hand, complimented me on the terrific job I’d done, and said he had some other ideas where I could be useful.
“I thought I was going to suffocate before that flight landed, because I realized that neither Josh nor I would ever be out from under his thumb. Josh was already his puppet, and after seeing that ghastly video, I would always be afraid to call Panella’s bluff. If he could terrify me into giving a few parties, what else would he demand of me?”
“To sleep with him.”
She leaned forward from the waist.
“He did, didn’t he? When you were on that trip?”
“Shaw, I swear to you that’s where I drew the line. I told him that if he touched me, he’d have to kill me. And wouldn’t that be a mess? If I wound up dead in the villa where we’d hosted parties together, he’d be opening himself up to a criminal investigation.”
She gave a small shrug. “I suppose he recognized the logic in that. In any case, he left me alone. It wasn’t about sex, anyway. He’d never exhibited the least bit of interest. It was control he desired, not me. But he never forgot that I said no to him. I believe that’s one reason why he hired Bolden to kill me.”
Shaw sat for so long a time just looking at her, that she feared he still didn’t believe her. Finally he asked, “That was the only time you did anything for him?”
“Yes. Within a month of that trip Joe Wiley approached Josh, and I began my campaign for him to testify against Panella. But if there hadn’t been a legal case in the making, if there had been no Joe Wiley or Agent Hickam, I would have done something to get him out of our lives. I returned from those three days in Costa Rica with the resolve to do that.”