Undeterred, Morrow began relating facts that Shaw already knew about the fatal shooting of Mickey Bolden. “Do you want to comment on any of that, Mr. Kinnard?”
“Still don’t see a lawyer. But if you stick around long enough, you might get to watch them remove my catheter.”
“When did you become acquainted with Bolden?”
He asked a few dozen questions. Shaw responded with sighs, yawns, and once by asking if Morrow would mind scratching an itch for him. “It’s a lot to ask, I know, but it was washed during my sponge bath.”
“Okay, talk smart,” Morrow said. “Sooner or later you’ll realize that it’s in your best interest to cooperate.”
“No, it’s in your best interest for me to cooperate.” Looking beyond him, Shaw added, “Unless I miss my guess, she’s here to run you out.”
Morrow turned to the nurse who’d entered the room. “I’m sorry, but your ten minutes are up,” she told him. “You can come back this afternoon between one and three.”
Shaw said, “That is if you have absolutely nothing better to do between one and three, because I’m not talking to you without a lawyer present.”
“Actually I do have something better to do. Agent Joe Wiley—you remember him?”
“Prince of a guy.”
“He invited me to sit in when they question Ms. Bennett. You…” He looked pointedly at Shaw’s cuffed hands. “You’ll keep.” He put on his hat and brushed the brim of it with his index finger. “Ma’am,” he said to the nurse and started for the door.
“Wait a minute.” Shaw tried to sit up but was able only to lever himself onto his elbows. “Is Josh Bennett still at large?” Seeing the deputy’s hesitation, Shaw said, “His capture wouldn’t be kept secret. It’ll have been on the news. I can ask her,” he added, indicating the nurse, “or you can just tell me.”
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.