Jingle of Coins

by C. D. Ledbetter

  So that was why he told her she was being watched when he dropped his keys. He must have been planning on turning her over to the cops himself, presumably for some kind of reward. “What…what do you want? I wasn’t cheating, you know,” she said, raising her chin defiantly.

  He patted her arm. “I know. I’ve watched the tapes.”

  She twisted to face him. “What tapes?”

  “The casino in El Cajon made tapes of you playing the machines.” Two couples strolled past them, and Glen put his index finger to his lips. “Shhhhh…Let’s finish our conversation in the car, shall we?” He motioned to a group of people headed their way. “It’s getting a little too crowded out here.”

  Emily nodded, glad for the brief respite. As they walked to the car, she tried to gather her wooly thoughts. Okay, so he knew about her talent. That might not be an insurmountable problem, depending on what he planned to do with the information. She waited until they were on the freeway before plying him with questions. “I probably ought to tell you that it doesn’t always work.”

  “Yeah, right. You better let me finish before you dig yourself a hole so deep you can’t get out.”

  “Fine. Go ahead.”

  “Look, Emily, don’t get huffy with me. I’m one of the few people who’s been in this business long enough to help you figure out how not to get caught. Right now, whether you believe it or not, your actions practically scream out ‘Look at me—I’m cheating at the slots.’ You’re lucky nobody’s picked you up yet. Believe me, Nevada casinos take cheating very seriously. If they even think you’re cheating, your image goes into the security database, which means that you’ll be spotted by a facial recognition system every time you set foot inside any casino. Once they match up your facial characteristics using a multi-point measuring system, you’ll be asked to leave. I know because that’s what I do for a living—pick out folks who ‘just don’t look right,’ and run the images through the system. The first time you get picked up, you’ve had it. You were just about to get caught last night when I walked up. Look, I’m not greedy. All you have to do in return for my help is to split what you win. We’ll practice on the little jackpots. Then, when you’re ready, we’ll go after the really big money—the one that will make us millionaires. Then we go our separate ways. No more, no less.” He waited for her to respond but she remained silent, hands clasped in her lap. “Well, what do you think?”

  “I don’t know. Let me think about it for a little while.”

  “Take all the time you like, as long as you give me an answer tomorrow night.”

  She turned to stare at him. “No pressure, right? What happens if I say no?”

  “Then unfortunately I’ll have to tell the gaming commission about your ‘talent,’” he said in a voice as cool as a slab of ice. “You won’t like what they’ll do to you, Emily. It’s not pretty. You’d be much better off taking my offer. And a lot richer.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  At precisely two minutes before nine, Kate shook her arm loose from the handsome oil company president who’d appointed himself her companion, and stepped into the women’s lounge. She moved into the end stall, then rotated the winding stem on her watch one full turn. Remembering Agent Dozer’s instructions, she paused, wondering if the electronic gadget embedded behind the watch face would perform as expected. Several tense seconds passed while she waited for the flash indicating that the recorder had started. Nothing happened, so she thumped the watch with her index finger, hoping to jump-start the electronics. A few moments later the crystal glowed a sickly green, then cleared. Well, at least something had happened. So far, so good. Now all she had to do was remember to turn the silly thing off.

  The clatter of heels on ceramic tile alerted her that she had company, so she flushed the toilet and walked over to the basin. Silent laughter racked her body as she realized that the first thing Dozer recorded would be the commode flushing. Served him right for eavesdropping on the conversation of others, even if it was for a good cause. Her grin deepened as she wondered if he’d suffered a panic attack when she’d washed her hands. Would he be worried that she’d short-circuit his precious little gadget? He hadn’t mentioned anything, but she’d kept the watch dry, just in case. She briefly wondered why she got so much enjoyment out of tormenting the poor man, then banished the thought. Dozer wasn’t worth thinking about. Tonight she had other avenues to pursue, namely the rich, handsome oilman waiting by the bar. Good old Henry would make a welcome addition to her client list. He might be a captain of industry by day, but tonight he was her slave and a willing one at that. Men were so easy. All she had to do was dangle the right bait and they were hers. She hadn’t met one yet who was immune to her charms. It was almost too simple. By fawning all over her, Henry had already become another notch in her belt, which was fast running out of leather.

  An opportunity to return to the ladies’ room presented itself at nine thirty when a guest accidentally spilled his plate of hors d'oeuvres on her dress. Kate listened to Henry berate the man for being clumsy, then left under the pretext of repairing the damage. This time she twisted the grooved knob in the opposite direction. After the watch face glowed a second time, she rejoined the circulating throng to say her goodbyes.

  Henry caught up with her on the way out and insisted on escorting her to the limo. She ignored his protests about leaving early and slipped a business card into his hand. “Call me next week,” she whispered softly as she slid into the limo and signaled for Dozer to close the door.

  The tinted panel separating the driver and passenger compartments slid open as the limo eased onto the freeway. “Took you long enough,” Dozer complained.

  “Be thankful I’m going home rather than conducting a little business with Henry,” Kate retorted in clipped tones. “You could’ve been driving this limo through town while I entertained him and earned several thousand dollars doing things your mother wouldn’t approve of.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “See that you do.” She leaned her head against the seat for a few moments, then sat upright and poured a glass of champagne. “Well…did the recorder work?”

  “Yeah, thanks,” Dozer replied. “Did I mention that water will short-circuit the electronics?”

  “Really? No, you didn’t, but since I’m such a clever girl, I figured that one out for myself.”

  “You’re an intelligent woman, Ms. Avrill. That’s why I asked you to work with us.”

  She tipped her glass toward him. “Flattery from a government agent? My, my, Agent Dozer, you’re full of surprises tonight.”

  “Yes, well I try, Ms. Avrill. I try.” He flung his right hand over the seat. “Give me the watch. The technical guys will have to do some fine-tuning before we use it again.”

  She undid the clasp and dangled the watch a few inches above Dozer’s outstretched hand, twisting the band so that it spun from side to side. “I thought you said it worked?”

  “It did. It just needs a couple of minor adjustments, that’s all.”

  “I’m surprised nobody at the reception commented on it. It’s certainly different enough from what I usually wear.” Shifting her gaze to the rear view mirror, she continued. “Still, I must admit I was secretly amused at the idea of recording everyone’s conversation. Do you think I could get a copy? It’d be interesting to hear what people were discussing as I walked by.”

  Dozer clamped his fingers around the watch and tucked it into his pocket. “Sorry, Ms. Avrill, but it’s government property. I’m afraid I can’t give you a copy.”

  “Humph. I figured as much. What about the bug I’m going to use at Mike’s? Does it work the same way?”

  He paused briefly as another car swerved in front of them. “Not exactly. My guys are working on it now. It’ll probably end up being a little bigger than the one you used tonight. Probably about the size of an ink pen cap. Unfortunately, since it won’t fit into a watch casing, you’ll have to conceal it somewhere. I take it you wouldn
’t like another piece of jewelry?”

  “Definitely not. One tacky piece was enough. Why can’t I just carry the microphone in my purse?” He didn’t respond, and she remained silent, sipping her champagne and staring out the window. When the glass was empty, she placed it upside down on a wooden rack and then leaned forward. “Your people do know that Mike has his guys check every single thing that comes into the estate, right? He’s paranoid about people spying on him. His guys even use hand held scanners. Nobody goes unchecked, not even the bodyguards. If this new bug is going to be bigger than the one I tested tonight, they’ll probably find it.”

  “Don’t worry,” Dozer replied. “We’ve got it covered. This new unit works on a frequency nothing else can reach. It’s top secret. The only way Mike’s men can detect it is if they tune their scanners to the exact frequency, which is highly unlikely. We’ve tested this new microphone on the most sophisticated equipment on the market, and nothing picked it up.”

  “Gee, that makes me feel a whole lot better.”

  “There’s no need for sarcasm, Ms. Avrill. You’ll be perfectly safe. The other bug is ten times better than the one you used tonight.”

  “You’d better be right, Agent Dozer. I’m risking my life to help you. Do you know what Mike will do to me if he even thinks I’m working with the Feds?”

  Dozer lifted his gaze to the rear view mirror. “I know, Ms. Avrill. That’s why I’m doing everything I can to keep you safe. We appreciate the risk you’re taking, and won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “Yeah, right. Seems like I’ve heard that one before. I didn’t believe it then, and I don’t believe it now. I trust you, Agent Dozer, but only up to a point. You better make damn sure nobody finds that thing while I’m carrying it.”

  “Have you given any thought to where you’ll hide it?”

  She settled back into her seat. “Yes. There’s only one place—in the flowers Mike keeps on the conference table in his office. Which means that your guys are going to have to come up with a really good disguise. My neighbor just got hired as a floral designer for the Emerald Lagoon’s flower shop. If she’s any good, I’ll get her to design a flower arrangement made up of irises and make sure he sees it. Did you know that he has a purple iris arrangement brought into his office twice a week?”

  “No.”

  “Very few people do. It’s the only thing about him that’s routine. I only know because I was there when the housekeeper threw out a gorgeous display. I asked her about it, and she told me that they change the arrangements twice a week, no matter what. Every floral delivery is scanned before it goes inside. My plan is to put the bug in the arrangement after it’s in his office. I’m going to stick it under the moss they use to hide the green foam at the bottom of the arrangement.”

  Kate paused for a moment to light a cigarette, then continued, “Mike’s supposed to come by my business office in two days to pick up an antique cigarette case I procured for him through Christie’s in New York. I’ll simply make sure he sees the arrangement, and when he asks, tell him where I got it. He’s bound to place an order. Then, all I have to do is pump Emily to find out when the flowers are going to be delivered. Once I know that, I’ll figure out a way to get invited to the villa to plant the microphone. You should be able to get about four or five days worth of tapes before they bring in a new arrangement. Then, once the maid tosses our arrangement out, your men can retrieve the bug.”

  “A crime boss that likes flowers? I find that a little far-fetched, Ms. Avrill. And so is your plan. It’s too…” He paused, as if searching for the right word. “…amateurish. What happens if he doesn’t order flowers from your friend? What are we supposed to do then?”

  She sighed heavily. “It doesn’t really matter if he orders flowers from Emily or not. If I find him a new florist, that makes me look good. Which makes it easier to get invited. Trust me. Mike always orders irises. I’ve told you before; he’s weird. As far as the flowers go, about two years ago some idiot he brought over from England told him that at one point, only European royal families were allowed arrangements made from purple irises, and Mike believed him. He actually believed that load of crap! Anyway, ever since then, he’s been a fanatic about them. Thinks they give him class.” She snickered derisively. “Once a low life, always a low life. Just to show you how crass he is, I happen to know that, unlike other syndicate businessmen, he even does his own dirty work. Says it makes him feel like a real man. Yeah, right. I’ve seen him beat men and women to a pulp for simply looking at him the wrong way. That’s why nobody has anything to do with him, not even the other bad guys. He’s too violent.”

  “Which makes him all the more dangerous,” Dozer interrupted. “You’re going to have to be careful, Ms. Avrill. Once you’re inside the villa, I can’t protect you.”

  An pregnant silence settled between them as Dozer considered his options. There weren’t any. Kate held all the cards, and they both knew it. Finally, he spoke, his voice a resigned whisper. “Your plan just might work. I’ll make sure my guys reshape the microphone into something that’ll blend in with a floral arrangement. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Let me make things nice and plain, Agent Dozer. If I don’t like the way your new bug looks, the deal’s off. So you better make damn sure your guys can figure out a good disguise or you’re out of luck.”

  “Don’t worry; it’ll be fine. They’ll probably make it look like a piece of stem.”

  “They better. You either use the arrangement to hide your listening device or forget about my help. There’s no other way you can smuggle anything into that house without getting caught. Believe me, I’ve thought about it long and hard.”

  “I’ll give my guys a heads up tonight. How long will it take you to place an order for the flowers?”

  “I’ll stop by Emily’s shop in the morning.”

  “Good. How are you going to get invited to Mike’s?”

  Kate jiggled her foot and watched a stiletto heel fall to the floorboard. “That’s going to be the hard part. Not many people get invited. I’ll put out a few feelers and see what I can do.”

  “We need the tapes as soon as possible, Ms. Avrill. I’d really appreciate it if you’d speed things up.”

  “Look. I’ve already told you it’s going to be difficult. If I push Mike, he’ll get suspicious. You’ll just have to wait.” She smothered a yawn and pulled her wrap closer. “I’m tired of talking. Take me home, and step on it.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next morning, as Emily fastened the last bit of floral tape onto the handle of the bridal bouquet, her thoughts drifted to Glen’s so-called business proposal. The way she saw it, she had four choices, none of which were very palatable. Option number one, which she’d thought of first, was to skip town. This meant she’d have to constantly look over her shoulder and wonder if Glen was trying to track her down. She thought about her cozy apartment and the life she was beginning to build, and decided she wasn’t ready to leave—at least not yet. This choice would be used only as a last resort.

  Her second idea was to throw his offer back in his face and hope that he didn’t know enough about her talent for the Gaming Commission to put her in jail. She could always deny his accusations. Doing that, however, was not only risky, it was also foolhardy. Besides, any type of investigation would expose her talent, which was exactly what she trying to keep from happening.

  Door number three gave her the option to contact the police about Glen’s attempted blackmail. Unfortunately, that would entail explaining why he was trying to blackmail her, which still left her out on the proverbial limb. Again, not a healthy choice.

  The final option was to give in and work with Glen. The mere thought of acquiescence sent fury lashing through her veins. She was the one with the talent, not him. How dare he try to capitalize on her skill! He wasn’t the one who had suffered through the God-awful car wreck. He was just some two-bit security monitor jockey who thought he could manipulate h
er fears to his own advantage. The pompous oaf—he was no better than that rat bastard ex-husband of hers.

  The handle snapping brought her back to the present. Cursing her temper and wandering thoughts, Emily jerked out the broken bits of plastic and refitted the bouquet. Intent on her work, she didn’t notice someone entering and started when a hand touched her arm.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Emily swung around, recognized the woman standing behind her, and hastily swallowed the acerbic retort hovering on her lips. “No problem.”

  “How swamped are you?” Clarise Forbes asked.

  Emily glanced at the pending orders box. “I’m not. This is my only wedding order for today.”

  “Good. Come to my office when you’re through.”

  “There isn’t a problem, is there?”

  Clarise smiled. “No. You’re going to get your work schedule, and you and I are going to talk about what I expect from my employees. I call it my ‘Management 101’ speech.”

  The tension in Emily’s shoulders evaporated. At last, something she was familiar with! “I’ll be right up.”

  “Okay.” Clarise said as she drifted out of the workroom.

  Emily waited a few moments, then turned her attention back to the half-finished bouquet. There was no point worrying about her meeting with Clarise. Nothing the woman could say would be worse that her discussion with Chief Keener. She added one last touch of lace to the handle, then gently laid the bouquet into a delivery box.

  “Clarise wants me in her office. Would you mind ringing this up if the bride’s mother comes before I get back?” she asked as she carried the box to the front counter.

  Sara grimaced. “Better you than me. I’ve already had my little ‘chat’ and got my butt chewed out. You’ll probably get off with a warning, you lucky dog.”

  “Yeah, right. You didn’t have to face Chief Keener yesterday. Not only did he chew me out, I had to meet with somebody else after orientation. It was not fun.”