Jingle of Coins

by C. D. Ledbetter

“Yes. My first-time clients always book a VIP suite at the Silver Palace. Ask for Micheal Gallazebo, and tell him that I referred you. He’ll know what to do. You should be able to check in with no problem.”

  “Will he be suspicious if there’s three of us?”

  She laughed. “No. Micheal understands that my clients expect total privacy, and I know I can count on him to make sure we remain undisturbed. One more thing. He’ll expect you to pay cash, up front.”

  “I’ll check in this afternoon. That should give us enough time to finish up the bug and train you tomorrow.”

  “I’ve got to go; I have a client coming.”

  “Be careful. Call me if anything new develops.”

  “Just make sure your guys have that bug working before I take it to Mike’s villa.”

  “No problem. By this time tomorrow you’ll be a pro.”

  “I better be. My life depends on it.”

  As soon as he got off the phone with Kate, Dozer phoned his boss. “Patrick? It’s Dozer. I’ve got some news for you.”

  “What?”

  “We’re ready to get our bug inside Mike Dragonisi’s villa and start recording. I’m positive that he’s responsible for our agents’ disappearance, and now I’m finally going to get the chance to nail that bastard.”

  “If you get something on the tape we can use in court,” Patrick replied skeptically. “At least you’re moving in the right direction. I’m forwarding an alert I got from Homeland Security about a couple of terrorists they’re looking for. It’s high level, so be sure and discuss it with your men.”

  “Done. I’ll let you know as soon as something breaks.”

  “Do that.”

  Dozer switched off his cell phone and walked to the secured lab in the center of the Secret Service building. After passing through two security checkpoints, he walked over to the table where several agents were working on the miniaturized recording device. “Okay, guys,” he said. “Everything we’ve got is riding on Kate being able to tape Mike’s conversations.” He pointed to the microphone on the table. “Our timetable’s just been moved up several days. I need that recorder working by tomorrow.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sara stuck her head through the doorway. “Can you please grab a customer for me? I’m in the middle of something. He wants to talk about an order.”

  Emily placed the finishing touches on the mother-of-the bride corsage, then looked up. “I’ll be out in a minute. I only have one last boutonniere, and I’m through.” She grabbed a yellow rose, added a few small leaves to the back, and then wrapped the stems with floral tape. When she finished, she let out a sigh of relief and carefully tucked the items into a delivery box. Another job well done.

  The bell activated by a customer’s entrance jingled, and she heard a loud female voice ask if the Duzant flowers were ready. Carrying the finished order to the counter, Emily proudly announced, “Here they are.” Smiling, she lifted out the bride’s bouquet and held it up for inspection. “What do you think?”

  The woman standing next to the counter gasped, and her eyes filled with tears.

  Sara quickly stuffed a wad of tissues into the woman’s hand. “Now don’t you go crying on us,” she scolded. “You’ll ruin your makeup.”

  “It’s absolutely gorgeous. I never thought it would turn out so beautiful, especially with such short notice. I still can’t believe my daughter forgot to order the flowers! How can we ever thank you?” The woman gulped, dabbing at her eyes.

  Emily wrapped the bouquet in tissue paper and gently laid it in the box. “Just have a beautiful wedding. That’s thanks enough.”

  “Oh, we will. Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Sara touched Emily’s shoulder and pointed to a man standing near the display window. “That’s him,” she whispered. “If you want to go talk to him, I’ll ring this up.”

  Emily nodded and headed toward the front of the shop. She eyed the massive shoulders that flexed under the man’s tan golf shirt each time he moved, and something about him seemed familiar. He turned, and her heart caught in her throat. It was the man from Kate’s apartment. The one Kate was afraid of.

  His smile turned into a frown as she approached, and she wondered how much of her dismay registered on her face. She hastily dredged up her best saleswoman smile, closed the gap between them, and extended her hand. “Hello. Sara said you wanted to speak to me?”

  He ignored her outstretched hand. “I know you. You were at Kate’s apartment the other night.”

  “Yes. What can I do for you?”

  “My boss wants two arrangements exactly like the purple one you made for Kate. You know the one I’m talking about?”

  She nodded and edged toward the counter. “Yes. Do you want the same size?”

  “Yeah. Be sure that you make them. Nobody else. Deliver them before noon tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow? You can’t be serious. That’s short notice for such large arrangements.” She slid behind the counter, putting some space between them, and noted that Sara had disappeared into the workroom.

  He stared at her for a few moments, then pulled out his wallet, extracted four one-hundred dollar bills, and laid them side-by-side on the glass countertop. “This should cover any inconvenience.”

  Oh God, not more hundred dollar bills! Didn’t the people in this town know there were other denominations for paper money? Geezz. Emily’s hands trembled as she picked up the money and stacked the bills on the metal ledge above the register’s cash tray.

  She glanced over at Stu, who had subsequently focused his attention on something wedged in the side of a large ruby ring on his right hand. Good. At least he wasn’t glaring at her with those hooded eyes that reminded her of an eagle zeroing in on its prey. Emily took a deep breath and tilted each bill until she saw the security thread and micro printing. They were all real. Thank God. She didn’t even want to think about what might happen if she had to accuse Stu of passing bogus money.

  She turned her attention back to Stu. “It will only take a minute to write up your order.”

  “Hurry up. I ain’t got all day.”

  “I’ll need a name and delivery address.”

  Stu pulled a card from his pocket and slapped it on the counter. “Ring the bell at the gate and wait for the guard. Nobody goes up to the house unaccompanied.”

  Emily copied the name and address onto the order form, then slid the laminated business card his way. “I’ll just ring this up and give you your change.”

  He stuffed the card into the initialed pocket on his golf shirt. “Keep it.”

  “But the order’s only two hundred seventy-three dollars. There’s over a hundred dollars in change!”

  Stu placed both hands on the counter and leaned closer, until his face was level with hers. “I said keep it. Make sure the flowers come before noon. Don’t be late.”

  Wincing from the garlic breath blowing her way, Emily stepped back. Before she could think of a biting retort, Stu spun around and walked out. Her knees threatened to collapse, and she clung to the edge of the counter for support.

  “Who was that?” Sara asked, emerging from the workroom. She eyed Emily cautiously. “I take it you knew that guy. What kind of people do you hang around with, anyway? That guy scared the crap out of me. I almost called security.”

  “He’s not a friend,” Emily replied, trying to calm her breathing and make her heart stop pounding. “I only met him once.” She held up her hand. “Look, I don’t want to talk about it any more. The man’s a jerk. Unfortunately, I already took his order and his money, so all I can do is get these two arrangements done as soon as possible and shipped out of here. Okay?”

  “Fine,” Sara announced in a hurt tone.

  Emily realized that she’d unintentionally snapped at her workmate. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I really don’t know anything about him. He’s a customer. That’s it.”

  “Well, I hope he doesn’t make
a habit of coming into the shop.”

  “Me, too.” Emily disappeared into the workroom and, after counting to a hundred, gathered the flowers that would be needed to complete the order. It took over five and a half hours, but she finished both arrangements before the girls working the night shift arrived.

  “Emily, it’s time to leave. Carol and Michelle are here,” Sara announced, sticking her head into the workroom. She let out a slow whistle. “My God, those arrangements are gorgeous! You’re a genius.”

  Pleased with Sara’s reaction, Emily grinned. “I’m kinda pleased with them myself.”

  “Well, you can stay late if you want to, but I gotta go. Hot date tonight. See you tomorrow,” Sara flung over her shoulder.

  Emily moved the two arrangements to the refrigerated case and explained to the two women manning the counter that they were for a special order and not to be sold under any circumstances. On her way to the parking lot, she tried to think of a polite way to ask Kate not to recommend any more clients. The florist shop could certainly use the business, but not if it came at the expense of her sense of well-being. Something about Stu gave her the creeps, and she wanted nothing else to do with him.

  As she tried to channel her thoughts toward something more cheerful, it dawned on her that she hadn’t thought about Glen’s proposal all day. Last night, after watching the tape, she realized that she really did need his help. That is, if she wanted to stay out of jail.

  He’d given her a homework assignment. She was to review the tape and come up with at least seven things she did wrong. She watched the tape several times, but only found four. She’d obviously missed several mistakes, but she was damned if she could figure out what they were.

  If she hurried, there would be enough time to watch the tape one last time before they met. This certainly hadn’t been what she’d expected to happen when she’d made the decision to move to Vegas. She thought she’d be on easy street and have her nest egg firmly established by the time she’d been here a month.

  So much for wishful thinking, she thought cynically. Now she had to share her talent with someone else. She still didn’t like it, but at least Glen had opened her eyes to the fact that she’d been teetering on the slender tightrope that divided jail from freedom, and her balancing bar had tilted more heavily toward jail with every second she spent utilizing her talent.

  He’d better be able to come through on his promise to help her refine her talent. If not, she was going to skip town and leave his butt behind. She made a mental note to convert all the money she had into traveler’s checks and stash them in her apartment, in case she had to make a quick getaway. It wasn’t much of a backup plan, but at least it was something. And something was better than nothing. She’d already been down that nothing road twice. Once after the divorce, and then again after the accident. No way was she going back there again. Not now, not ever.

  “You’re late. How many items did you come up with?” Glen asked brusquely as he closed the door.

  Emily sent him her best ‘go to hell’ look, slapped the video case on the coffee table, and perched on the edge of the sofa. “I’m fine. How are you?” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She cast a swift glance around the room. It was a lot like hers, except that he had a dark brown leather overstuffed sofa and two chairs, plus a massive black wall unit that eclipsed the wall closest to the bedroom. She swung her glance toward the kitchen.

  He snapped his fingers, and she flinched. “Pay attention. This is business, not a social call. If you want to check out my apartment, do it some other time. We have a lot of ground to cover. You’ve got to be prepared to work as soon as you step through that door. Understand?”

  “Fine. Let’s get started.”

  He took a seat across from her. “All right. Tell me what you found.”

  “I only found four things.” She pulled a scrap of paper out of the side pocket of her shorts. “First, I wore work clothes to the casino. Second, I tilted my head each time I listened for the slots. Third, I didn’t talk to anyone, and fourth, I hit the jackpot right after I moved to a different machine.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “Well, that was better than I thought you’d do.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence. So…what were the three other things?”

  He rubbed one palm with another, laced his fingers together, and cracked his knuckles. “First things first. I think I know how your talent works, but you need to explain it to me—in detail. I have to understand exactly how it works.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, then clamped it shut. Arguing would only aggravate him, and he probably needed to know how her talent worked in order to help her refine it.

  “Well? I’m waiting. Do you want my help or not?”

  She held up one hand. “I’m trying to figure out the best way to explain it to you.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “Fine. Ever since my accident, I’m able to hear background noises other people don’t. For instance, I can hear the fluorescent bulb in the brass lamp at the end of the sofa.”

  He looked skeptical, and she continued. “Want a better example? Did you know you left your computer on? The tower buzzes every time your screen saver cycles.”

  “What about slot machines?”

  “I’m getting to that. The audiologist at the hospital gave me special hearing aids to help block out sounds, but every time I go to the casinos, I can hear the slot machine reels change pitch.” He started to speak, and she held up her hand. “I know what you’re going to say. Slot machines work from computer chips. It doesn’t make any difference. My hearing is so exact that I can still hear the change in pitch as the reels line up for the jackpot. They change pitch two or three times, depending on what kind of machine it is, before the jackpot symbols line up. I simply cruise the aisles and listen for a machine to talk. Then I play that machine until it hits the jackpot, which can be anywhere from ten to thirty spins later.” She paused, waiting for him to speak.

  “Any down side?”

  She nodded. “Other than worrying about getting caught? Yeah, a big one. I don’t know if a machine is going to change pitch. Whenever I walk into a casino, I have to wait until I hear something. It’s possible that at any given time, none of the machines will change pitch. There’s no way I can control that problem. I have to hang around until a machine either makes noise or I run out of money. Unfortunately, it’s all or nothing; there is no in-between. I either win big or lose all my money for that night.”

  “What else?”

  “Yes, there’s one other thing. There’s always the problem of a machine changing pitch that’s being played by someone else. If someone else is on the machine when I hear it change pitch, I can’t do anything except wait and hope the player leaves before it pays off. That happened several times already.”

  “So, to recap, you go into a casino, walk the aisles until you hear a certain noise, then zero in on the machine that’s making the sound, and play it till the jackpot hits. Is that right?”

  She nodded. “More or less. Now what?”

  Glen rubbed his chin. “Well, that could create a problem, but we’ll deal with it later. First, we have to get your act cleaned up.”

  She bristled. “Gee, you have such a way with words.”

  “Don’t get your panties in a knot, Emily. You’re going to have to develop a thicker skin. I’m sorry if I’m being blunt, but when it comes to business, I call things like I see them. Thick skins make for successful learners. Remember that. You’re going to have to unlearn everything you’ve taught yourself about this talent of yours. Otherwise, you’re headed for nothing but trouble.” He grabbed the video case from the coffee table and stuffed the tape into his VCR.

  “I’ve already watched that tape a dozen times. Why are we watching it again?”

  Glen switched on the television set and picked up the remote. “Because you didn’t catch the most obvious thing there was. So, we’re going to watch it together. As ma
ny times as it takes for you to figure it out.”

  The tape played for a few minutes, then he stopped it. “What can you tell me about the people in the casino?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Tell me about the other people on the tape.”

  “What? They all look the same. There’s nothing different about them.”

  He threw out his hands. “Finally, you get it.”

  She smacked her head with the palm of her hand as a light bulb went off in her head. “Oh my God, how could I miss it? I feel like an idiot.”

  He laughed. “Rule number one of outwitting security people. Invisibility. In order not to be noticed, you have to become one of the masses. You must be invisible, blended into the crowds playing the machines. If you stand out, by body actions that vary from the norm, like not talking to the person standing next to you, unusual clothing, or body gestures, etc., you get noticed. And watched. In your case, you tilt your head while you play, as if you’re listening for something. The way you do it is unusual, and that makes you stand out, which gets you noticed. We’ll work on that in your next lesson.”

  He clicked the remote. “Okay, now that you’ve figured out Rule Number One, how about we move on to Number Two?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Would you like the end cubicle, Ms. Avrill?” the security guard asked as he tugged the safety deposit box out of the wall.

  “Yes, please,” Kate answered, absently rubbing the side of her forehead.

  The guard carried the box to a short table inside the partitioned workspace and stepped aside. “We close in twenty minutes. Just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll put it back.”

  Kate waited until the sound of his footsteps faded, then lifted the lid. Her smile widened as she contemplated the diamonds, sapphires, and pearls that sparkled and gleamed in the bank vault’s fluorescent lighting. Underneath the jewelry, stacks of cash, bearer bonds, and stock certificates filled out the remainder of the steel container. She rummaged through the box until she found a silver necklace inlaid with twenty pear-shaped diamonds, then slipped it into a zippered pouch on her purse. Ten minutes later, she finished moving the remainder of the safety deposit box contents into her one-of-a-kind compartmentalized briefcase. She checked the safety deposit box one last time to make sure she hadn’t missed anything, then spun it around to remove a two-inch square piece of clear plastic taped to the rear. She tucked the paper-thin slip inside an envelope and buzzed for the guard. “Can you provide an escort to the courier’s office?”