“He came to count on you to fight his battles.”
“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 th
at 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.