Fast and Loose

by Fern Michaels

  If this were the girls’ mission, what would they be doing right now? How would they handle Kelly and Kitty Passion? He needed to think and think fast. What was it that was bothering him? What? The girls always had it going on, and they didn’t make mistakes, and on the rare occasion when something did go awry, they somehow turned that something to their advantage. Maybe because they were so tuned in to one another, so united. That was the word he wanted, united. We’re scattered. You can’t run any kind of operation if your people are scattered. Even a dumb-ass fool would know that.

  The phone already in hand, Jack pressed the number three on his speed dial. Charles picked up on the first chirp.

  “Just listen, Charles. Call everything off. Have everyone return to the hotel. That includes Ted and Espinosa. Now. Do it now!”

  Jack jammed the phone into his pocket, turned around, and sprinted off, going down side streets and alleys to avoid the crowds. Thirty minutes later he was in front of Babylon, winded and breathless. Still breathing hard, he entered the massive building and headed straight for the casino floor. The sound level was deafening. He hated the intense looks he saw on the gamblers’ faces. Didn’t they know the house always won? Obviously, they didn’t care, or else they had money they didn’t care about. He shook his head to clear his thoughts as he made his way to the elevator.

  Charles’s suite was crowded, almost to the point of overflowing, when the door opened, courtesy of Maggie. Cyrus yipped his pleasure at seeing his master.

  “Harry and Dennis are ten minutes out. Five now,” Maggie said. “What’s going on, Jack?” she hissed. “You have everyone in a tizzy here, and I do mean a tizzy.”

  “Yeah, I know. That’s why we’re all here. We’re going to correct the situation right now, just as soon as Harry and Dennis get here. What time is it?”

  “Almost eleven. Is the time important?” Espinosa asked.

  “Maybe yes and maybe no.”

  Someone knocked sharply on the door. Maggie and Cyrus both ran to it, with Cyrus winning easily. He barked happily as he greeted Harry and Dennis.

  “What the hell is going on, Jack? We were that close to snatching Kitty Passion when Charles called. I almost didn’t answer. We had her in our sights,” Harry said. “We saw her go into a condo complex and enter one on the first floor. We were about to do a snatch and grab when Charles’s phone call came.”

  “Yeah, what’s going on?” Dennis asked. “We had it all lined up. It was perfect. I doubt we’ll ever get a better shot at her. And the best part was there was no one around.”

  “Look, everyone calm down and take a seat,” Jack said. “I had a good shot at Kelly myself when it hit me. We’ve gone about this all wrong. Well, not really wrong. When it blew up with Abner, and we need to take responsibility for that, we lost our way. When we get back to D.C., we’ll make it right with Abner.

  “I realized when I started to tail Kelly that it wasn’t feeling right, so I stopped and asked myself what the girls would do. For starters, the thing with Abner never would have happened if they were in charge. That’s when we got scattered. Scattered! We did not pull together. We did not unite. Each of us had our own idea, and in the back of all our minds was Abner. Are you all following me here?”

  Heads bobbed up and down.

  Jack went on. “We didn’t let Charles form a plan for us. We were listening to Bert instead of Charles, and I want to be the first to apologize for that. We should have done more due diligence. As an example, we didn’t know Kelly had a sister, even if she’s only a half sister. We didn’t know whether she had a place to stay in town. We didn’t know she didn’t own the chicken ranch. We should have had all that information at our fingertips. Even with PIP and Abner doing the scut work, we fell short.

  “I don’t think it’s too late to fix this. But from here on in, we do not take our orders from Bert. From this point on, no one leaves this room until we have a concrete plan of action, and I don’t care how long it takes. Now, let’s run all this up the flagpole and see what we come up with.”

  * * *

  Abner Tookus flipped down the visor and pressed the remote that would allow him to enter the parking area that came with his converted loft. He was home. Home sweet home, though without Isabelle. Still, he was home. Even he had to admit he had made good time, having taken full advantage of his radar detector. For the most part, he had relied on his GPS and the detector and had driven eighty miles an hour. It was still a mystery to him how he hadn’t been pulled over for speeding. The thing was, he never drove over the speed limit, just the way he never smoked. And yet he’d done both. He shook his head at his disbelief before he gathered up all his trash—the cigarettes, the coffee, and some soda cups, along with snack bags of cookies and chips. He dumped it all in a trash can next to the elevator, even the radar detector. His speeding and smoking days were officially over.

  On the elevator ride up to the loft, Abner realized that he should have picked up his mail. Not that he ever got much, but he didn’t like it to accumulate. He conducted all his business these days electronically. Oh, well. Tomorrow was another day.

  Abner stood statue still when he stepped into the foyer of the loft. He closed his eyes as he sniffed. He could smell Isabelle’s perfume and the lavender scent she sprayed the loft with. He looked at the coatrack and saw her yellow slicker with the matching hat. She always said she felt like a duck when she wore it. He smiled, but it was a less than valiant effort. He dropped his backpack and kicked off his Nikes. Then he headed for the kitchen to pop a bottle of root beer before he settled down in his favorite chair, which was right next to Isabelle’s chair. He felt more lonely than he’d ever felt in his life. His eyes started to burn. He didn’t even have a phone to call anyone. Then again, whom would he call? No one, that was who, so why was he even thinking about making phone calls? He wished he hadn’t thrown out the cigarettes. He could use one right now.

  The phone Phil had given him buzzed. He could feel the vibration against his leg. He pulled it out and grinned when he said, “Don’t tell me you miss me already?”

  “Nah. I just called to welcome you home. Mary Alice and I were talking, and we both decided you are probably feeling kind of lonely right now, so we called to cheer you up. You okay, pal?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay. A little tired. I’m not even going to ask how you know I’m home. Where are you guys?”

  “We’re wherever you want us to be—thirty thousand feet in the air, the middle of the ocean, down under, in the desert. It doesn’t matter, because we’re talking. Did you take care of business?”

  “I did, and then I left. I was just sitting here wondering what I’m going to do with myself now that I’m more or less a free agent. Guess I’ll look for a job one of these days.”

  “Sooner or later, something will fall into your lap, probably sooner than you think. For now, just kick back and sleep around the clock. Your body needs it. Spray some lavender on your pillow. It helps.”

  Abner laughed, his first genuine laugh in days, because Isabelle was so into lavender, it was comical. She was forever spraying everything with the scent, because she said it was comforting and calming. “Is there anything you don’t know, Phil?”

  The big man laughed, a great booming sound. “Well, my friend, we’re going to hang up now so you can get some rest. We’ll be in touch. And, Abner, I’m glad you made it home safe and sound. Good thing I called ahead to all those trooper stations to alert them you were headed their way.”

  “And all it cost him was a couple hundred thousand dollars for the troopers’ widows and orphans fund.” Mary Alice giggled.

  “You didn’t . . .”

  “See ya, Abner.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned!” Abner slugged back the rest of the root beer and headed for the bedroom. He hit the shower, lathered up in lavender suds, washed his hair with lavender shampoo, then dried off with a lavender-scented towel before he hit the bed, which smelled like Isabelle and lavender.

&n
bsp; Abner could have sworn that he heard someone whisper, “Sweet dreams,” before he fell into a deep, restful sleep that lasted fourteen hours.

  Chapter 21

  The guys went at it tooth and nail, with everyone having a different opinion as to how to handle the situation, which had gotten so off the rails. Even Cyrus couldn’t seem to make up his mind whose ideas he should endorse with his one-vote bark.

  Jack took the floor and held up both hands for attention. “Hear me out here, please. This is how I think we have to look at things right now, at this moment in time. I have lost track of the texts and calls I’ve placed to Dixson Kelly. He has not responded to any of them. Nor has he responded to Bert. I think that pretty much tells us he has no intention of cooperating and that he knows what is going on.

  “Right now we do not know where he is for certain, although we think he’s at his own condo. While we think he went to his condo in town, and the sister we didn’t know he had went to the condo Maggie discovered she had in town, neither of those suppositions is carved in stone. It is at least possible that when Maggie did not show up for dessert, they decided to leave and are at some airport right now. Ten minutes ago, I sent off a text to Pete Justice, who, if he is telling the truth, has not heard from Kelly, either. He asked me what was going on. I told him I would get back to him. Bert told him via a text that he was the man in charge for now, and he was relieving Kelly of all his duties. That’s what we know for certain. We have to decide what to do and do it quickly.” Jack directed his attention to Maggie and asked her what she had.

  Maggie looked around at the gang, each one of whom looked like he was about to hang on every word that came out of her mouth. “Not much, but something. Clare Andreas, aka Kitty Passion, shares the condo she has in town with an airline stewardess named Sabrina Abernathy. The only name on the deed and the mortgage is Abernathy’s, not Passion or Andreas. The condo is for sale at a greatly reduced price . . . for a quick sale. I checked Abernathy’s Facebook page, and there was a lot of stuff on it, girl stuff, but at her age, which, if she is telling the truth, is thirty-five, you’d think she’d be a little more circumspect.

  “First of all, she is a Brit. Divides her time between here and London. Said she broke up with her gal pal a while back and put her home up for sale to get out from under. The Facebook post does not name Kitty/Clare. I am assuming Kitty/Clare is the gal pal. Said she served an eviction notice on Kitty/Clare. Her last posting was yesterday, about eighteen hours ago, when she announced she would be flying the London to Hong Kong route from now on. The last thing she said on her post was she was sorry she had blinders on and she was so very sad that people—I guess she meant Kitty/ Clare—were so ruthless. That’s it.”

  “So are we saying Kitty is staying in the condo illegally?” Fergus asked. “After she was evicted?”

  “I have no idea. I would guess she has a key. Maybe she returned there tonight to pack up her stuff. Maybe she’s moving in with her brother. I don’t know,” Maggie said.

  “We would have that information if you hadn’t called us back here,” Dennis said. “We should go there now and pick her up. She’s probably in for the night.”

  “Or getting ready to take it on the lam with her brother, if that hasn’t already happened, seeing as how he isn’t here at Babylon, either,” Ted said. “Every minute we sit here sucking our thumbs is a minute they can use to head for the hills. They have to know we know something. Don’t think for one minute one of those showgirls or some of them that weren’t rounded up have not been in touch with someone. You know how women like to stick together. No offense, Maggie. It’s just a pure fact, and us guys have to live with it.”

  Sparrow held his arm up for attention, a fierce look on his face. “Oh, man, you guys are not going to like hearing the text I just got.”

  Cyrus barked to show he was in agreement even before he knew what he was agreeing to.

  “What?” Harry growled. When Harry growled, people invariably paid attention. People even paid attention when Harry whispered.

  “Those women we’re holding—they’re all represented by the same law firm.”

  “Director, you did say, did you not, that you could hold those women for seventy-two hours without benefit of counsel?” Charles said, his voice dangerously cold at what he was hearing.

  “It’s true, but as we said earlier, a few of the women could have evaded our net when we swooped in. Being women, they did what they had to do—call their lawyers. The group’s attorneys—that’s plural—just showed up ten minutes ago at the field office, breathing fire and brimstone. You know what this town is like. These people take care of their own, and let me tell you, those women have the best of the best. By morning, this will be a goddamned circus,” Director Sparrow said.

  “What law firm is it?” Jack asked, virtually certain that he knew the answer even before he asked the question.

  Cyrus yipped to back up his master’s question.

  “Lizzie Fox represents half of them, and Cosmo Cricket, her husband, represents the other half.”

  Cyrus was so devastated at the news, he covered his face with both paws as the others cursed out loud at this revolting turn of events.

  Jack drew a deep breath. When he finally expelled the air, it sounded like a gunshot. He looked at his watch. “I don’t see any solution other than to pick up Kelly and the sister, if they haven’t already left. The question is, where to take them if we’re successful?”

  “How about that room at MGM that the girls comped for me?” Maggie said. “Mr. Snowden gave me both key cards. He said there is a sitting room, kind of like here in this suite, so the room should accommodate all of us. I can leave now and head to MGM to wait for you.”

  “Sparrow and I will take Kelly, assuming he’s at his condo,” Jack said. “Harry, you and Dennis pick up the sister. Snowden, split up your team, with half as backup for me and Sparrow and the other half as backup for Harry and Dennis. Charles, you, Fergus, Ted, and Espinosa be our lookouts at MGM. Hit the casino floor and keep your eyes on the main door. Maggie, of course, will be waiting at the room. Our mass departure from here will not go unnoticed. Everyone clear on their positions?”

  Cyrus reared up and let loose with an unholy bark. He scratched frantically at the carpet, growling deep in his throat.

  “I didn’t forget you, big guy. I know you want to bite someone on the ass, and you will get that opportunity, I promise. You’re going with Charles and the guys.”

  Cyrus ran to the door and waited even before Jack was finished with his monologue.

  The gang left one by one, with Charles and the boys the last to walk through the door. Charles fastened the leash to Cyrus’s collar. “Let’s be clear, Cyrus. You do not bite anyone’s arse until we give the okay. You understand?”

  Cyrus yipped once to show he got it.

  It was almost midnight when the crew took to the street. Inside the casino, where there were no clocks, the gaming was in full swing, with blinding neon lights, along with the shrieking bells and whistles and a few shouts from hysterical winners. For all the gamblers knew, it could be four o’clock in the afternoon, as far as they were concerned. Outside, it was a different matter. The crowds on the streets had thinned considerably, mostly due to the light, chilly, misty spring rain that was falling. People did not want to be wet and cold while sitting on a stool in an air-conditioned casino, even if they were winning.

  The chilly mist didn’t bother Jack or Sparrow as they half jogged and half ran, because both men were extremely physically fit. It took them only twenty minutes to reach Dixson Kelly’s condo. They were barely panting when they stood to the side to stare up at all the lighted windows.

  Jack looked out at the mess of traffic on the street, mostly taxis, clogging the street. “Good thing we decided to hoof it, or we’d still be sitting out there, cursing the driver.”

  “I could never live here,” Sparrow said.

  “Me either. Cyrus wouldn’t like it. He hates
concrete. He likes green grass and trees.”

  “Me too.” Sparrow laughed.

  “Doorman building. How do you want to play this?”

  Sparrow laughed out loud. “This badge gets me in anywhere I want to go. Just follow me.”

  “I’ll need to see your key card, gentlemen, before I can open the door,” the doorman said politely and respectfully when the duo approached him.

  “Will this do, young man?” Sparrow said, whipping out his ID.

  “I believe so, sir. Anything I can do for you? Is there going to be any trouble? This is a family building.”

  “I certainly hope not. Wait, there is one thing you can do. Have a taxi waiting with the motor running. Can you do that?”

  The doorman’s eyes were wide as saucers when he said, “I believe so, sir.”

  “Do not use your cell phone until I tell you to. We clear on that?”

  “I believe so, sir. I mean, yes, sir. You have made yourself crystal clear. I will not use my cell phone.”

  “Good! Good! I’ll be sure to give you a glowing report. Now, please, open the door. By the way, how many of the tenants returned in the past few hours? Any strangers or anyone with the tenants you didn’t recognize?”

  “Not many. No, no strangers. It’s a slow night. The people who live in this building are not gamblers. Well, maybe they are to a certain extent, but what I meant was they come home at night, like other people with regular jobs. Let’s see . . . Who came in? The Ellisons around nine thirty. They were out to dinner. Mrs. Ellison isn’t much of a cook, according to Mr. Ellison. John Stephens came in with his suitcases. He was away on a business trip.

  “Then the two architects came in a little while ago. They were arguing about something that went wrong on a project. Then Mr. Kelly came in all in a lather, huffing and puffing, and didn’t even say good evening. That’s not like him, and he is never here, anyway. Once in a blue moon. Oh, yeah. The Olivers, with their four kids, came in right after Mr. Kelly. One of the kids had a recital, and then they stopped for ice cream. That’s why they were so late coming home. Tenants like to chat. That’s it so far.”