Realizing that he was babbling, he stopped, huffed several breaths to stave off hyperventilation, and tried to stop the pending onslaught of crippling anxiety. But he looked into Panella’s face, and the panic attack roared toward him like an unstoppable freight train.

He had to produce that password.

Chapter 38

With only a few miles remaining until they reached Bayou Gauche, Shaw, Wiley, and Jordie discussed terms.

The two men agreed to hold off notifying the law enforcement teams already conducting a search for Josh for the reason specified—that Jordie held more sway over her brother than anyone.

“The less pressure he feels, the better our chances that he’ll see reason and surrender,” she told them.

Addressing Wiley, Shaw backed her. “Besides, if we get a bunch of eager beaver lawmen hopped up before we even know that there is a house and that Josh is there, then my cover’s blown for no good reason, and you look like an idiot for believing in a tale about twinkling lights spun by the fugitive’s sister.”

“I’ll go along,” Wiley said, speaking over his shoulder to Jordie. “And you’ll get your chance to talk sense to him. But if he doesn’t surrender within a few minutes, or does something the least bit nutso, I’m calling for backup. And I mean it. And I don’t care if you do shoot me. Got that?”

“Goes double for me,” Shaw said.

“Give me five minutes with him.”

“Three,” Shaw said.

She could tell by his stubborn tone that he wasn’t giving on that.

“All right, three. And promise me that Josh won’t be harmed.”

“Can’t promise that, Jordie,” Shaw said with all sincerity, “because we can’t predict what he will do.”

He was right, of course. She wished for a peaceful, casualty-free outcome, but neither Shaw, nor anyone, could guarantee it. The denouement depended largely upon her brother’s emotional stability, and that wasn’t a reassuring prospect.

“Something else to consider,” Wiley said. “We might run into Panella.”

“Nothing to consider,” Shaw said. “We run into Panella, he gets no more time to surrender than instantly before I blow him to kingdom come.”

After that, the three of them lapsed into a somber silence like soldiers mentally gearing up for a dangerous mission.

Another grim possibility had occurred to Jordie: Before they reached Josh, he might be located by another law officer. If he tried to get away, he could be wounded or killed in the attempt. She felt that time was running out for her brother and willed Shaw to drive as fast as he could.

But as they entered the town of Bayou Gauche, she was seized by dread and uncertainty as to how the day would play out.

“Okay, which way?” Shaw asked from the driver’s seat.

“If I’m remembering correctly, the house was on this side of town and off in that direction.” She pointed. “Take a left at the first stoplight.”

Just as they made the turn, Wiley’s cell phone beeped. He checked the readout. “Hickam’s mom.”

“Take it.” Shaw pulled into a filling station parking lot. “I have some rules of engagement to talk over with Jordie.”

Wiley got out and answered his phone as he stepped away from the car.

Jordie, unhappy over the delay, said, “Rules of engagement?”

“Nonnegotiable rules. First.” Shaw extended his hand through the space between the front seats.

She hesitated, then laid the pistol in his open palm. “It was a rash move, I’ll admit. But would you have brought me along otherwise?”

“No way in hell. Would you have shot me?”

“I seriously considered it when you called last night only a time-out.”

“I said that to test you, see what you’d do.”

“I realize that now.”

They shared a meaningful look, then he gave his head a small shake as though to pull him back into the here and now. “The threat of being shot didn’t convert me to your way of thinking. You made sense. If we find Josh, you could be a valuable asset.”

“Thank you.”

“Hold off on that thanks, because there’s something else.” His serious tone arrested her attention. “I told Wiley about Costa Rica.”

She had expected him to, of course, but the implications were daunting. “Does he see me as an accomplice?”

“He’s thinking it over. Reason I’m telling you now is in case you’re planning to bamboozle us, help Josh get away, something like that. It would make you look really bad in the eyes of the law.”

“I won’t.”

“Okay.”

“I swear to you.”

“Okay.” He held her gaze for several seconds, then said, “Now…the other rules.”

A few minutes later, Wiley opened the passenger door and got in. “Sorry that took a while longer than it should have. The lady is so relieved she couldn’t stop talking. Hick’s regained consciousness. He’s alert. Responds correctly to the questions put to him.”

Jordie exclaimed her relief.

“That’s good news,” Shaw said.

“Not for you,” Wiley said. “He woke up mad as hell. Remembered the hoodie, thought it was you who’d shot him.”

“I hope somebody told him different.”

“He still doesn’t like you. But nobody does, right?”

Shaw looked in the rearview mirror and shot Jordie a look. She smiled back, but then her features returned to being taut with anxiety.

Following the directions she gave him, Shaw angled off the main road onto one whose bends were dictated by the winding bayou which it ran alongside. The swampy landscape on either side was a panoply of sameness, one perspective exactly like every other. With no signposts, either natural or man-made, one could get easily lost. He began to doubt Jordie’s recollection.

But then she said, “There. On the right.”

The turnoff was marked only by a rusty and dented metal mailbox. It sat atop a steeply leaning wooden post that seemed to be relying on the surrounding weeds to keep it from toppling. A quarter of a mile farther along the narrow gravel road, a house came into view.

“That it?” Shaw asked.

“Yes. I’m positive.”

It didn’t look at all hospitable or even habitable. There wasn’t a sign of life about the place, not a blade of living grass or green shrubbery. Even the surrounding trees had been suffocated by the Spanish moss that hung from their bare branches.

“Looks like a haunted house,” Wiley said.

“That would appeal to Josh,” she said. “He likes video games with supernatural and horror themes.”

Shaw stopped the car about fifty yards away from the house, but he kept the engine running as they assessed it. It was built in a typical Acadian style, supported on stout cypress beams, with a deep porch on three sides, shaded by the overhang. The exterior might once have been white, but the elements had stripped so much of the paint that the structure had been left a mournful gray that matched the monochromatic setting. Rust had taken over most of the tin roof. Snaggletoothed hurricane shutters hung crookedly from the windows.