Shell Game

by Chris Keniston

His forehead resting against hers, he closed his eyes and tried to put his thoughts into perspective. Form words that made sense. He couldn’t keep this up for much longer. Time to test the waters. “I’ve been thinking about visiting my brother in Fort Lauderdale with the rest of my vacation time.”

  “Really?” She kept her arms wound around his neck.

  He didn’t move. “Don’t know of a SEAL who isn’t fond of water.”

  A shallow breath blew in his face, and she pulled away, sending his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach. “What about CIA employees? Do they like the water too?”

  His job. Though to him the CIA was only that, a job. A duty. Not who he was. There was no way to explain, without pushing her away further, how, even if he never again served in Uncle Sam’s Navy, deep in his soul, he would always be a SEAL. “I’ve trained all of my adult life to serve.”

  Taking another step back, her chin dipped once, and her mouth tilted upward in a shaky smile. “I know. Danny was the same way. It’s what you do.”

  And just like that she turned to the yellow path, walked out of the wind, into the hall, and away from him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “How can you stay so calm?” Sharla twirled her hair into a bun at the back of her head for the third time this morning and stabbed it with another bobby pin.

  “Sweetie, this is too easy. We’re not the ones orchestrating a con. We’re just turning up to watch the show.”

  Sharla’s shaky fingers reached for another pin, and, just as had happened before, she’d missed the mark, and the heavy knot slipped to one side.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. You’re not going to Cinderella’s ball.” Sophia grabbed a scrunchie off the vanity desk, handed it to Sharla and then patted her on the shoulder. “Everything will be fine. You’ll be fine. And I like your hair in a ponytail.”

  “Thanks, Nana.” Maybe she was right. Maybe Sharla was overstressing. Herbie had been a cop for forty years, and he didn’t seem at all concerned about the upcoming rendezvous. Yeah. She could do this. A rap on the door sounded, and she dropped the brush, springing to her feet.

  “Come on in, guys.” Sophia opened the door. “I think we need to get Sharla a drink before we go anywhere.”

  Luke and Herbie turned to her. Herbie was frowning, but Luke simply eyed her with an intense scrutiny that made her insides go on high alert, and had her mind forget all about cons and swindles and traps.

  “Maybe you should stay here,” Herbie suggested.

  “Nonsense.” Sophia kissed her granddaughter’s cheek and patted her shoulder again. “She’ll be fine once she sees how easy this is going to be. Though a mimosa may not be a bad idea. Just to take the edge off.”

  There was no way Sharla would stay on the ship while her grandmother was off baiting crooks. Plastering on a smile that she hoped looked confident and not terrified, she nodded and linked arms with the former grifter. “Nana’s right. I’ll be fine. And I don’t need a drink. Let’s just get this show on the road!”

  “You sure, honey?” Herbie asked, his frown still in place.

  She smiled in earnest. Not that she was any more certain, but the sincerity of his concern touched her.

  “Okay then. George confirmed he and Gloria will meet us at the coffee shop across the street from the bank.”

  “And I’ve already touched base with my contact. Money’s in place and ready to go. Looks like we’re all set.” Luke held out his hand to Sharla. “As you said, time to get this show on the road.”

  With more eagerness than she would have liked, she accepted the proffered arm, and followed the others out the door and down the hall. As much as she hated to admit it, having Luke to hold on to did more to calm her nerves than a vat of mimosas. And why was that? She’d known this man little more than a week. Why did having him near make everything in her world seem so right? Even when that world was in a state of complete and total batshit-crazy.

  In the elevator Luke leaned closer and whispered, “What’s the matter?”

  “You’re kidding me right?”

  “No, I mean, you’re staring at me.”

  “Oh. I…wasn’t staring.” Right and moths don’t like flames. Was that what she was? A moth attracted to the deadly flame. Lord, what had she gotten herself into with this man?

  “Color me surprised,” Sophia muttered as the elevator doors opened.

  Snapped out of her self-analysis, Sharla glanced in the direction her grandmother seemed to be looking. George and Gloria stood near the end of the disembarkation line.

  “Showtime.” Sophia’s face lit up with a bright smile, and she stepped off the elevator laughing. Whether that was for the Baileys’ benefit or simply the thrill of the game, Sharla didn’t know. But following her grandmother’s example, she relaxed her shoulders, threaded her hand with Luke’s and laughed delightfully at something he hadn’t said. Nana looked back over her shoulder at Sharla and winked. A fun, sparkly wink.

  Maybe she could do this after all.

  “Oh, hi.” Gloria waved at the group as though accidentally running into each other hadn’t been their plan all along.

  Though truthfully, had it not been for Nana’s comment on spotting them, Sharla would have believed bumping into them was simply coincidence. Or perhaps Providence. And most likely so would their other marks. The idea of all the senior citizens who these con artists had swindled out of their much-needed savings had Sharla’s blood pumping fast, hard and furious through her veins.

  Her head had always understood the situation, but only now did it seem all too real. And like her grandmother, she was ready to take these suckers down.

  “We were going to go straight to the café and have a little snack. We might as well walk together.” George raised an arm and waved for the group to get in front of him in line. As each person in line departed, the repetitive ding from the keycards grew louder until the six of them were off the ship and chatting away.

  Gloria paused at one of the portside duty-free shops, and Sophia abandoned Herbie and sidled up beside Gloria, the two oohing and aahing over this bauble and that. Like generations of dinner parties, within minutes, the women and men had migrated to be with their own kind. In this case the men leading the way talking sports and politics, and the women lagging behind pausing at whatever storefront caught their eye, laughing and joking all the way.

  Well, Gloria and Sophia were doing most of the bonding.

  Sharla seemed to be along just for the ride. A small part of her was fascinated watching her grandmother and wished she could have been a fly on the wall back in the day to see the family pull off a long con.

  “We’ll see you in a few.” At the bank door, George waved to them and walked away with his wife.

  “I would have thought they’d come in with us.” Sharla crossed the threshold behind her grandmother.

  “That would have been too pushy,” Luke whispered to her. “Notice neither mentioned anything about the deal or the money while we walked over. They simply wanted to make sure we didn’t develop last-minute cold feet. I’d bet all the money that someone here is watching us for them.”

  Sharla almost turned her head to study the surrounding faces when Luke leaned into her again. “Don’t look.”

  So a con artist she wasn’t meant to be. But what did it say about Luke that he knew how to do this? Knew not to look? And knew she was about to? He said it himself; deep in his soul, he was a SEAL. The military’s most elite warriors. Though his team most likely never robbed banks, she had no doubt they could have infiltrated the building, gathered up all the money and valuables, and been long gone before anyone was the wiser. Isn’t that what they did in foreign lands with valuable information or people? Save the captured. Destroy the weapons used against Americans. Along with so many other things ordinary citizens would never know of. She would never know of. But he didn’t do that anymore. Or did he?

  Both Sophia and Herbie sat with the bank manager, signed a long list of papers and recei
ved a lecture from the man on the perils of walking through the city with that much cash. Herbie assured the nervous man that they would be fine but neglected to mention he was a retired policeman. Something Sharla had noticed hadn’t been mentioned to anyone else during the cruise.

  Through the bank window she could see George and Gloria sitting chatting at the café across the street. Which meant, in a couple of hours, this would all be behind them. After the conversation last night, being reminded that Luke and Danny had been trained to serve, she realized she couldn’t do this again. Couldn’t lay her heart on the line with a man who could die any minute doing his job. Logic told her that anybody could die at any minute. Every day, people were killed in accidents, diagnosed with terminal diseases or simply dropped dead on the street like her grandpa. But she’d bought into that logic before, and she just couldn’t take the chance again. She just couldn’t.

  When the bank manager walked away, leaving Herbie and Nana alone in the vault to count and sign for the cash in private, Luke nudged her. “You have that look of a scared rabbit in your eyes again. Are you going to be okay? Should I ask for a glass of water?”

  How did he do that? How did he know what she was feeling just by looking in her eyes? And what was she supposed to do about the way her heart beat slightly faster every time he did? For that matter, how was she supposed to stay away from him—for the rest of her life?

  * * *

  “We’re all set.” Sophia clutched her shoulder bag. “On we go.”

  So far everything was going exactly as Luke had predicted. The bank manager did his carefully rehearsed speech like a pro. Working with Sophia was a plus. The woman knew how to play a part and play it well. Not a single person would suspect she carried fifty thousand in cash.

  They hadn’t made it fully across the street when George and Gloria stood to greet them. Alone. Maybe there wasn’t an accomplice. He’d had Kate searching data banks every day for known associates, but she’d not come up with anyone who could be here now.

  George stuck out his hand first. “Just a few more minutes until our local associate arrives with the paperwork, and you’ll be wealthy real estate investors.”

  Sophia smiled, not as brightly as before, and raised her hand gently to her temple. “Yes. Isn’t it exciting?”

  Herbie eyed Sophia carefully, then shot Luke a questioning glance.

  All Luke could do was blink. He couldn’t afford to offer even the slightest tell of not knowing what that was all about.

  Inside, the café was more crowded than Luke would have liked. Patrons scattered here and there at different tables. A few he recognized from the ship, including Frenchy, the second officer from the fire incident.

  The six of them maneuvered around a table in the back corner. Luke vying with Herbie and George for the seat along the wall. Since the plan was for Luke and Sharla to leave before the transactions went down, he let Herbie have the prime seat. George sat beside him.

  “You know”—Sophia rubbed the corners of her eyes—“I’m not feeling very well. I think I forgot to take my blood pressure medicine.”

  George’s eyes rounded, but Gloria stood quickly to step over and place her arm around Sophia’s shoulder, nearly colliding with Sharla who had done the same thing.

  Sophia put up her hand. “I’m okay. Just a little dizzy. Some blurry vision. I’m sure it’s the stupid meds.” She turned to Sharla. “Honey, I’d better go back to the ship. You have the money. Herbie will be here. You go ahead and sign for me.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” George cleared his throat. “Unless she has power of attorney.”

  “Oh, dear.” Sophia rubbed at her temple some more, considering her options. “I hate to miss this opportunity, but I really need to get back to the ship. Let’s do this. Just put my granddaughter’s name on the paperwork. She’ll initial the changes and sign. The deal will be hers.”

  “Nana?”

  “Honey, it’s okay. You’d inherit it anyway. And I know you won’t cheat me out of my earnings while I’m alive.”

  Gloria had the good grace to drop her eyes at the comment.

  George showed no signs of guilt. Asshole.

  “Nana, I can’t—”

  “It’s okay, honey. Herbie’s here.” Sophia turned to Luke. “Handsome, I think I could use an escort back to the ship.”

  Crap. Was this for real or did Sophia have something up her sleeve? Something neither him nor Herbie were going to like. Holding back a sigh, he had to consider his options quickly. Herbie had to stay for sure or the whole thing would go down the drain, and Luke’s chances of pulling all these strings again, if nothing came of this today, would be slim to none. With none taking the lead. Which meant doing as Sophia suggested, and leaving Sharla with Herbie and the Baileys.

  He didn’t like that one bit. Herbie had been a cop—according to Kate a damn good one—but he wasn’t armed, which would make protecting Sharla much harder if this deal didn’t go down as choreographed. He had no choice. Shit.

  “I’ll be back when I’m sure she’s okay.” He looked to Sharla, surprised she didn’t look more panicked. Even more surprised to see determination in her eyes. Attagirl. Just don’t do anything stupid. Please.

  Offering Sophia his arm, the lady accepted gladly and shuffled her way outside. When they’d made it to the ship’s gangway, she turned and patted him on the arm. “I’m okay from here. I’ll grab a crew member inside to escort me to the cabin for my meds. The doctor will be a phone call away if I need him. You go do your thing as planned.”

  He loved this old lady. In only a week, he’d come to love her almost as much as her granddaughter. If anything happened to Sophia, he’d never forgive himself. Nor would Sharla. But if anything happened to Sharla,… God, he didn’t even want to go there. No wonder she didn’t want any part of a man whose life was on the line every day.

  “Go.” Sophia nudged him. “Don’t you let anything happen to my little girl.”

  “I won’t.” He took a step back, then another. “Don’t make me regret this.”

  “I’ll be fine. Just get those bastards,” she said more steadily.

  With that final reassurance, Luke turned and wove through the crowd to the back streets, making his way to his predetermined location. Out of sight from the café’s patrons, the rooftop across the way had everything he needed waiting for him. Gotta love connections.

  Chapter Twenty

  All Sharla wanted was to turn over this money to the creeps and get back to her grandmother. At this point she almost didn’t care if they were caught or not. Almost.

  “I certainly hope she’s all right.” Gloria shook her head. “She’s such a nice lady.”

  Herbie had kept his gaze focused on the window long after Nana and Luke had disappeared from view.

  The man was too quiet. His concern for her grandmother helped make Sharla feel better. The way things looked, once this was all over, he and Nana were going to be an item for sure. Sharla wouldn’t be surprised if she lost her roommate.

  “Here he is.” George stood and waved a slim middle-aged man in a Panama hat over to the table.

  “How do you do?” Extending his hand to Herbie, the man offered a brief smile.

  “Herbie Klein.”

  “Sharla Kramer.”

  Casting a furtive glance around the room, Mr. Panama Hat took a seat, at no time volunteering his name. “Shall we get started?” He set down a leather briefcase that most likely cost more money than Sharla earned in a week and pulled out a stack of papers.

  “There’s been a slight change of plans,” George announced.

  “Oh.” The associate raised a brow in question, once again quickly scanning the café before settling his attention back on George.

  “Ms. Garibaldi took ill. Miss Kramer will be purchasing the shares for her grandmother.”

  “Hmm. County Records frown on handwritten changes to transfer documents.”

  “I know,” Gloria said. “Bu
t she’s such a nice lady. Don’t you think this once…”

  The associate shifted his focus from her to George. George barely bobbed his chin, but that seemed to be all the reassurance Panama Hat needed. “All right. Let’s get these out.”

  Sharla crossed out Nana’s name, printed her own, then initialed the change and handed it to George for his initials. Herbie gave the papers a cursory glance, though Sharla knew he was looking for one thing. The incriminating legal description of the land the con artists had no right to sell. She knew he’d found it when he nodded and flipped more quickly through the remaining pages.

  Holding the bag of money in her lap, tightly secured with one hand, Sharla shifted every time someone walked by. Herbie was the first to sign the pile of papers. Mr. Panama Hat stamped each page with what she assumed to be some sort of notarizing authority. Normally she would have asked, but, since she already knew the deal wasn’t legit, what was the point.

  According to the original plan, Luke was supposed to be watching from somewhere. Knowing he was nearby gave her an unexpected sense of calm. She could only hope that her grandmother hadn’t needed him to stay with her. At this point she didn’t know what had her more unsettled: this crazy scheme they’d gotten involved in, not being sure if Luke was nearby as planned or wondering how Nana was doing.

  * * *

  Sophia exited the elevator and turned down the hall. Walking past an older couple moving slower than molasses in winter, she waited for them to turn the corner before sliding on the pair of gloves she’d pilfered from the medical center downstairs and stopped at 720. A suite. Of course. Pulling the keycard from her pocket, she slid it into the door, pushed down the handle and shoved the door open.

  “And we’re in.” She loved it when a plan came together. Taking the card had been a last-minute impulse, but, as her daddy always said, when Providence hands you an opportunity, grab it with both hands. She glanced around the cabin. Somewhere in here there had to be information she could use to help recoup the fifty thousand dollars taken from Herbie’s brother-in-law. Everyone else was welcome to sit back and let the Feds handle restitution. Not Sophia Garibaldi.