“He thought it was you calling.” Joe told him how the conversation had come about and related it in its entirety. “We had all the geegaws hooked up to the phone. Got nothing. Panella hung up in less than thirty seconds.”
Kinnard absently rubbed the scar on his chin. “His attempt on Jordie’s life was a bust. Josh still knows all his secrets and is inclined to make deals.” Addressing them all, he said, “Our friend Panella can’t be happy with the status quo, especially if he was left holding an empty bag. Do you realize how dangerous that makes him?”
“We do. That’s where we were when you came in,” Joe said. “Hick and I were encouraging Ms. Bennett to share with us any information she has regarding either Panella or her brother’s whereabouts.”
“Morrow told me you were questioning her.” Kinnard looked across at her, but he referred to her in third person. “That’s one reason I left the hospital in such a hurry. For a day and a half, I tried everything I could think of to get information out of her. Some of my tactics were unpleasant, even crude.” He waited a beat, then looked at Joe. “If she knew anything, I believe she would have told me.”
She hadn’t told him about her weekend getaway with Panella. Joe would bet one of the swindler’s millions on that. If Kinnard knew about that, he wouldn’t be letting her off the hook now.
Another one of those awkward silences ensued. Kinnard was staring hard at Jordie as
though compelling her to look at him. She kept her eyes downcast, looking only at her lap.
Eventually Adrian Dover stirred. “That’s it then. Is my client free to leave?”
Joe said, “Ms. Bennett is free to go now, but she remains in our custody. Hick, tell Marshal Saunders she’s ready to return to the hotel.”
Hick stepped out and called down the hallway to the marshal.
Jordie said nothing as she stood up. Evidently she planned to walk out without acknowledging any of them, especially Shaw Kinnard. But when he spoke her name, she hesitated on the threshold before turning around. And if looks could kill.
Kinnard said, “You can’t protect your brother from Panella, Jordie. He’ll send the next Mickey Bolden, then the next, until he gets him. He won’t give up until Josh’s entrails are strung along behind him in the Gulf.”
She held his stare for the length of a slow freight train, then said, “I wish I’d gone for the kill.”
She and the lawyer walked out as Hick came back in, his cell phone to his ear. He mouthed, Morrow.
Joe, who’d stood up as a courtesy to the ladies when they left the room, sat down again and scrutinized Shaw Kinnard. He looked worse off now than he had when he’d made his grand entrance, and he’d looked like hell then. He was pale, the lines in his face more deeply carved, cheeks sunken.
Nevertheless, from deep within their shadowed sockets, his eyes projected a cold glint that signaled danger despite the signs of his physical debilitation. Joe didn’t have that quality. Nobody would ever move out of his way simply because he focused on them.
If Kinnard had been affected by Jordie Bennett’s parting shot, he didn’t show it. To look at him, you’d think the words had bounced right off him like he was wearing armor. Of course, in order to work as deep cover as he did, detachment was essential. Everything was sacrificed to the job, even normal human emotions.
Joe thought about the comforting clutter in the den of his house, the constant commotion his kids created, the particular squeak his and Marsha’s bed made when they moved on it together, and he didn’t envy Shaw Kinnard his gravitas. It came at a price. Too high a one, in Joe’s opinion.
He motioned toward the door through which Jordie Bennett had just passed. “I don’t think she likes you.”
“Nobody does. I’m used to it.”
“She seemed to yesterday, though.”
Kinnard snapped him a look of alerted interest. Maybe his armor wasn’t so impenetrable after all.
But before he could speak, Hick abruptly ended his phone call and said, “We gotta get to Tobias.”
Joe shot to his feet. “Bennett?”
Hick shook his head. “Royce Sherman.”
“Who’s that?” Kinnard asked.
“The guy who accosted Ms. Bennett in the bar.”
Kinnard was so wobbly he had to use the table to stabilize himself as he stood up. “I’d like to talk to that jerk-off myself.”
“Not gonna happen,” Hick said. “He’s in the morgue.”
Chapter 28