Shell Game

by Chris Keniston

  “That’s a good thing.” Sharla smiled again. Within seconds the woman began to stir. “Don’t move,” Sharla practically cooed. When the woman’s eyes shot open wide, Sharla cupped her cheek with one hand, casually keeping her head from moving, and turned to Becky shouting orders like a drill sergeant. “Make sure the medical team brings a backboard and a neck stabilizer.”

  Immediately her voice reverted to a soft soothing tone. “You’ve had a little fall. Does it hurt anywhere?”

  The woman closed her eyes and barely shook her head.

  “That’s good. What’s your name?”

  The husband, still frozen in place, opened his mouth to answer, but Luke held up his hand, shaking his head. He knew Sharla was checking for a head injury and needed the wife to respond, not her husband.

  Opening her eyes, the woman softly answered, “Agnes.”

  Sharla looked to Agnes’ husband, her relief showing when he nodded. “Nice to meet you, Agnes. Do you know where you are?”

  “Ship,” she mumbled.

  “That’s right.” Reaching for both of Agnes’ hands, she commanded, “I need you to squeeze as hard as you can.”

  When the woman did as instructed, Sharla asked the surrounding crowd if anyone had a smart phone. Accepting one of the three quickly proffered phones, she turned on the flashlight. After checking the woman’s eyes, one at a time, Sharla glanced up at the husband, still as pale as her patient. “Her grip is good, and her pupils react equally. The ship’s doctor will take her down to the treatment room, and check for fractures and internal injuries, but I don’t think she’s been hurt too badly. They’ll probably want to observe her overnight to be sure.” She stood and patted his back. “She’ll be in good hands.”

  The woman smiled at Sharla and lifted her hand.

  Sharla crouched back down and clasped it between both of hers. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

  The woman’s eyelids fell shut just as the doctor arrived and knelt at her side.

  After pulling out his stethoscope from the black bag he’d brought, he listened to her heartbeat for a few seconds before looking to Sharla. “What happened?”

  “She slipped down the stairs. Hit her head pretty hard and was out for at least two or three minutes. Her pulse was weak and thready, but it’s stronger now.”

  “And she’s coherent?” he asked.

  “Yes. Knows her name and where she is. Pupils react, and her grip is strong. Didn’t have a chance to do much else.”

  No longer needed, Luke stepped away from the huddle.

  Sharla remained in place, allowing the staff to do their thing. At one point, not pleased with something, she nudged aside the crew member and placed the neck brace on the patient herself. Once Agnes was on the gurney to Sharla’s satisfaction, she smiled at the doctor and took a step back.

  Agnes lifted up her hand again. Sharla leaned over, and a bright smile took over her face before she nodded and stepped completely out of the way.

  “What did she say?” Luke sidled up beside her, his hands on her arms.

  He was so damn proud of her, anyone would think she’d saved a battalion of men.

  “Just thank-you.” She kept her eyes on the crew rolling Agnes toward the elevators.

  “Awfully big smile for getting a thank-you.”

  “It’s always nice to hear. Poor thing was just so embarrassed to have fallen.”

  “Is she going to be all right?”

  “They’ll want to observe her overnight to make sure she doesn’t have a problem with bleeding into the brain. But she’s probably more embarrassed than hurt.”

  “You were wonderful.”

  Sharla turned to look at him. “It was just a little fall.”

  “I know. But it was a big deal to Agnes and her husband. You were all business and comforting and reassuring at the same time. That means a lot to someone when you’re hurting. And scared.”

  “The voice of experience?” She used the same words he had the other night on deck.

  He just nodded. Too many memories of too many good men hurt and dying flashed before his eyes. Along with the medics, risking their own lives to save their buddies and too often failing. This may not be a Middle East desert, but this woman had the heart of warrior. And an angel.

  * * *

  Finally able to wind down from the unexpected medical emergency, Sharla found playing evening bingo had turned out to be way more fun than she’d imagined.

  They’d sat around in deck chairs watching the numbers appear on the big screen over the pool. The cruise staff guy, Insk from Minsk, was calling the numbers and making ridiculous jokes in an absurd version of what she suspected was a Russian accent. “What’s written at the bottom of a milk bottle in Minsk?” he asked. After a long pause he answered, “Open other end.” As stupid as the shtick was, he had her laughing so hard a few times, tears would stream down her cheeks.

  “Okay.” Nana set down her cards. She hadn’t won big, but she’d won back some of her bingo fees. “Now it’s time for the crap tables. But I need to get my money from the cabin. Why don’t you kids come with us?”

  It wasn’t an order, but it wasn’t a question either.

  Nana turned to Gloria and George. “We’ll meet you at the tables?”

  “I’ll be at the slots,” Gloria answered.

  “Blackjack’s my game,” George added.

  “Sounds like a plan. See you in a few.” Nana linked arms with Sharla, clearly expecting her to come along. Herbie and Luke shrugged and fell into step behind them.

  In the elevator everyone remained silent as passengers moving about loaded on and off at every other floor. When they reached the cabin, Herbie took Nana’s keycard and opened the door for everyone. Herbie did the same thing as Luke, quickly glancing about just in case the Boston Strangler was hiding out in Nana and Sharla’s room.

  She lifted her hand to her mouth to hide her laughter.

  Everyone stood aimlessly in the small space as Nana took her position in front of the cabinetry with the small safe.

  The moment the cabin door latched shut, Nana spun around and pointed a finger at Herbie and Luke. “What the hell kind of game are you two hustlers up to?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Herbie’s jaw dropped; Luke’s brows shot to his hairline, and Sharla was aghast. “Nana!”

  “Don’t Nana me, young lady. Sit down.”

  On command, Sharla obediently dropped to the edge of the bed. Herbie snapped his mouth shut. Luke tossed a sideways glance at him, and both men shifted to sit.

  “Not you two,” Nana ordered. “I want answers.”

  Luke looked to Herbie and lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug.

  “Well?”

  “I’m afraid we’ don’t know what you’re talking about,” Herbie said.

  “What crazy stunt are you two trying to pull with that half-assed con artist?”

  “What?” Sharla shot up. This couldn’t be good.

  “Honey, this is between these two. You’d better sit down.”

  “Nana, I don’t think—”

  “It’s okay, honey. I know what I’m doing.”

  “Sophia,” Herbie spoke first. “I’m sure you’ve misunderstood.”

  “The hell I have. It takes a con to spot a con may be true most of the time, but, this time, any idiot should be able to smell this guy’s stink a mile away.”

  Luke’s brows went up again, and Sharla swallowed a groan.

  “Have either of you asked for an accounting report?”

  Both shook their heads.

  “What about references? Real ones, not testimonials.”

  Herbie shot another quick glance at Luke before volunteering, “Not exactly.”

  “Care to expand on that?”

  Again his head shifted from side to side. Obviously not ready to explain further.

  “Well, I know neither of you are stupid. Crazy maybe, but not stupid.” She turned to Herbie. “You’re an ex-cop. Didn
’t you work vice?”

  Herbie nodded.

  “And you.” She pointed a finger at Luke. “Sharla says you work for the State Department.”

  Luke swallowed and bobbed his head.

  “In other words, CIA.”

  Again that wasn’t a question, and Sharla’s heart took off at a rapid clip. She put one hand on her chest and the other on Nana’s arm, Her grandmother knew an awful lot of strange things about a world Sharla never even thought about, but she had to be wrong about Luke.

  His gaze shifted to Sharla for a few very long seconds before he turned back to her grandmother. “I can neither confirm nor deny.”

  * * *

  Luke was glad Sharla was already sitting down. The way her face went pale as the sheets on the bed, he suspected, had she been standing, she might have keeled over.

  He’d considered falling on standard operating procedure and denying outright that he worked for The Company. Evading the way he had earlier with Sharla. But now that the idea of a lifetime with Sharla had started to take root in his mind, he couldn’t bring himself to put up any more smoke screens. He just wished she didn’t look so damn horrified.

  “So.” Sophia slid her hands onto her hips. “Now that we’ve established that neither of you are neophytes, what’s the plan with this character, and why are we after him?”

  “We’re not after anything,” Herbie took a step in Sophia’s direction.

  She held up her hand to stop him. “There are a few things I haven’t gotten around to explaining to you yet, Herbie.”

  “Nana.” Sharla seemed to snap out of her slight daze. “I don’t think now is—”

  “I’m afraid now is as good a time as any.” She reached over and patted her granddaughter’s cheek, then turned back to the men. “I come from a long line of confidence men.”

  Con artists?

  Herbie’s brows buckled, and he took a step back.

  “My husband Benny and I retired when my daughter married a reputable archeologist. It wouldn’t have looked good for my son-in-law’s career to have his wife’s family caught up in a major scandal.”

  No doubt a euphemism for jail.

  “Most of our relatives retired shortly after that. All the newfangled technology and gizmos took a lot of the fun out of it anyway.”

  Herbie took a seat next to Sharla.

  Luke couldn’t blame him. The news was a bit of a shocker, but, instead of feeling weak in the knees, he found himself stifling a smile. No wonder the old bird was so feisty.

  “None of that is important now,” Sophia continued. “What’s important is this guy is a con. And not a good one either. And you want him. So tell me what you’re up to, and then we’ll see how I can help.”

  “Nana.”

  “Okay, how we can help.”

  “Nana!”

  Herbie stared at Sophia for a long while.

  Sharla seemed to be floundering from incensed to mortified and back, and Luke was at a complete loss for words. He’d run a lot of missions in his day, done a great deal of undercover work over the last two years, but, he had to admit, running a con was not his forte.

  “Would you two excuse us for a little bit?” Herbie pushed to his feet. “I’d like to talk with Sophia alone. We’ll meet you in the casino soon.”

  Sharla looked to her grandmother, who smiled. “It will be fine, honey. You and Luke go win some money.”

  Silence hung in the air for a bit. He was pretty sure Sharla was going to object when Sophia patted her arm and repeated, “Go.” After another minute of consideration, Sharla turned and led Luke to the door.

  Neither said a word in the hall. In the elevator he was surprised when she pushed the button for the upper deck instead of the casino. He didn’t know what to say. Finally he said the only thing he could think of. “I really like Sophia.”

  “I love her.”

  “I know you do.”

  Sharla kept her gaze on the closed elevator doors. “I don’t want her to get hurt.”

  “Believe it or not, neither do I.”

  The doors opened, and he followed her out to the upper deck and jogging path they’d walked the other night. Not a bad idea. He could use a little fresh air.

  “Do you really work for the CIA?”

  Lips pressed together, he took a chance. “Yes.”

  “Why did you lie?”

  “I didn’t.”

  She stopped and faced him. “You said you were with Internal Affairs.”

  “In a way I am.” When she didn’t say anything or resume walking, he added, “Every agency has its problems with rotten apples. I’ve been working to help get rid of a few.”

  She returned to following the path. “Did you?”

  Gazing out at the stars, he thought of the three dead bodies in the luxury compound in Afghanistan. “Yes.”

  They continued walking around the front and out of the wind. “What happens when your thirty days’ leave are up? Do you go back to finding more bad apples?”

  And wasn’t that one hell of a question. Five days ago he would have said hell yes. Even this morning he would have said yes. But ever since picturing the two of them old and happy in thirty years, he wasn’t so sure. “Honestly I don’t know.”

  Once again she stopped short, turned to him and studied his face a good while before asking, “Why?”

  “Because of you.”

  * * *

  Of all the answers he could have given her, that wasn’t what Sharla had expected. She kept walking. Without a word they rounded the path more than once. She wasn’t sure if it was twice or even three or four times. She had no idea.

  As they turned the corner into the strong breeze at the front of the ship, his hand slid over and grabbed hold of hers. Their fingers wove together and, instead of the usual shock of sensual electricity that his touch brought, a sense of comfort and strength blanketed her like an old quilt on a winter’s night. A sense of belonging so solid that it overwhelmed her, robbing her of words.

  She had no idea what to do or say.

  Could she do this again? Could she take a chance on falling in love with another man with a high-risk career? Just the thought squeezed at her heart. And the possibility she was already on her way tightened the pressure. “I thought it was a nightmare.” She dared a glance at Luke, his face void of all emotion. His gaze straight ahead. “Tyler came to tell me what happened. There was no time to rush to the hospital and worry over a wounded husband in intensive care. Danny was already gone at the scene. We’d only been married three years. But we were happy.”

  In her peripheral vision she could see Luke nodding.

  “I don’t want to care about what might happen to you. And I don’t think I could live with the fear.”

  Squeezing her hand, he shifted his attention to her. “I don’t want you to live in fear of anything.”

  They made one more lap around the deck when, still holding her hand, Luke paused by the doorway leading inside. “It’s getting late. Sophia and Herbie might be looking for us.”

  “Right.”

  All the way to the casino he kept hold of her hand and not once had she felt the need to pull away. Inside with the smoke and noises associated with gambling, they walked from the crap tables to the blackjack tables. Finding Gloria by the slot machines.

  “Have you seen Nana or Herbie?”

  “Nope. George waited for about an hour and then went to bed. I hadn’t gotten up to look, but I’m sure I would have noticed them if they’d come in.” From her vantage point she certainly could have seen them at the craps table.

  “Then, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Good luck.” Sharla flashed a thumbs-up with her free hand.

  Back in the game, Gloria managed to wiggle a two-fingered goodbye.

  “Where to now?” Luke asked.

  “My room. Hopefully Nana isn’t curled up crying her eyes out.”

  To her surprise one side of Luke’s mouth lifted in a sly smile. “I’d be more worried a
bout Herbie.”

  Considering how concerned she was about her grandmother, she shouldn’t have felt like smiling too, but she did. Luke was probably right. Her grandmother was many things, and a force to be reckoned with was at the top of the list.

  Still holding her hand, Luke’s pace slowed as they moved down the hallway. “Uh-oh.”

  Not seeing anything out of the ordinary, her heart pounding against her ribs, she faced Luke. “What?”

  “That.” Several feet from her room, he drew to a stop and pointed at the door.

  “That’s odd. Why is Nana’s scarf tied to the doorknob?”

  Luke turned to her with brows raised.

  It’s a good thing he looked totally irresistible when he did that or it might start to get annoying.

  “Back in the day, did your grandmother ever work the resorts in the Catskills or Poconos?”

  “Now that you mention it, I think the family did, when she was a kid, before she married my grandpa. The Catskills. Why?”

  In a move worthy of a ballroom dancer, his hand slipped from hers to around her waist and redirected her back up the hall. “Come on, and I’ll explain.”

  Alone together in the elevator he pushed the button to his floor, and her already-racing heart nearly sputtered to a stop. “We’re going to your room?”

  “We are if you want to get any sleep tonight.” His grip on her side eased, and he blew out a resigned breath. “Surely you’ve seen the movie Dirty Dancing.”

  “One of my favorites.”

  “Do you remember the scene when the sister found a towel on the doorknob of the guy’s cabin?”

  “Yeah, that’s when she walked in on—Oh. My. God.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  He had no idea what was going through Sharla’s mind as they made their way to his cabin. When he pushed open the door and waited for her to step past him, to go inside, he could see her studying the contents of the room. Indecision showing in every line of her tense stance.

  “It’s perfectly safe. I promise.” Extending his hand to her was not an option right now. Touching her in anyway would be a big mistake. Especially if he wanted to keep the promise he’d just made.