Hustlers (10 page)

Read Hustlers Online

Authors: Claire Chilton

Tags: #New adult, #romance, #adventure

“Take care, miss.” Bill closed the door and tapped the roof of the cab. It rolled down the driveway, leaving the house behind it.

Ellie sat up after a couple of seconds and cracked open the car window, enjoying the fresh air that was rushing through it.
I made it.

“Don’t let her get away!” a familiar voice echoed behind her.

She glanced back to see Jacob hanging out of his bedroom window, holding what appeared to be the broken tablet in his hands. She was too far away to see his face, but she could guess that it looked pissed.

She bit her lip as a grin spread across her face.
That’ll teach you to treat women like toys.

She leaned over to the driver. “Can we go to Bakerston instead? There’s a party I need to get to, and if you get me there fast, there’s an extra ten quid in it for you.”

“Sure thing.” The driver nodded without glancing back at her.

She flopped back in her seat as the driver slammed his foot on the gas and took a sharp left turn out of the estate. She checked the back window for following cars, but the road was empty.

Hawkins Hall was surrounded by tiny villages, giving her the perfect opportunity to send pursuers in the wrong direction. She admired the quaint thatched cottages of Bakerston as they passed by.
Maybe one day, when this nightmare is over, I’ll buy a house like this.

She smiled when her car came into view. The shabby black Astra looked out of place on the idyllic street. She’d parked outside of an unlit cottage that had a for sale sign in front of it. “Just here is perfect,” she said, pulling some notes out of her coat pocket and handing twenty pounds to the driver. “Keep the change.”

He nodded. “Have a good night.”

She climbed out of the backseat and shut the door, then paused to watch the cab speed off into the night. She waited a beat for him to be gone before rushing to her car. When she got to the car door, she paused.
Keys, where are my keys?

She frowned.
In my bag.

Her eyes widened.
Where is my fucking bag?

She closed her eyes and rubbed her brow.
No, no, no. You idiot!
She knew exactly where her bag was. It was on Jacob Hawkins’s bed.

She would have to berate herself later. At the moment, her most pressing concern was getting far, far away from Hawkins Hall. Fast.

She walked to the back of her car and knelt down, pretending to be inspecting the tire. She pulled a slim jim out from the clamp under her bumper.
Dad always said I should be prepared.
She slipped the tool up her sleeve and headed back to the driver’s door. She glanced around at the cottages that were lit, relieved to see no prying eyes watching her from the glowing windows. She slipped the slim jim down the side of the window and jimmied the lock until it clicked.

As soon as she slid into the driver’s seat, she opened the glove compartment and pulled out the spare set of keys she’d duct-taped to the roof of it. She sighed and leaned back in her seat as she started the ignition. All the adrenaline that had been pumping through her veins tonight seemed to evaporate, and she felt bone-tired. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to find her inner calm.

She jerked in her seat when the phone on her dashboard buzzed. She glanced at the screen.
Jimmy, you slow arse!

She picked up the phone and held it to her ear. “Better late than never, is it?”

“Jesus, woman. Can’t I take a crap in peace these days?” The familiar tones of her best friend’s northern accent reverberated down the phone.

“Nice talk! You’ll never get a girlfriend if you say things like that.”

“I have a girlfriend!”

“I meant a
real
one, not a stranger on the internet.”

“Don’t even start.”

Ellie grinned. Jimmy was the pain-in-the-arse little brother that she’d never had. “Oh, and what are you going to do about it if I do?”

“That depends. Did you pull off the job or, as I suspect, did you mess up and are currently in deep shit?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not in deep shit. It’s more like a detour around it.”

“And where did we detour to this time?”

“Some dude’s bedroom.”

“Ha, that’ll be a first, won’t it?”

Ellie slapped her hand to her forehead. “I didn’t mean it like that. God, you’re such a—”

“Did you get it?” Jimmy interrupted.

“Kinda...”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ll tell you when I get back into the city. I’ll be home soon. Bye.” She still had to work out how to tell Jimmy what she’d done. He was going to flip out when he discovered she’d crossed Meyer.

Before she took off, she slipped out of her coat and threw it onto the back seat. She grabbed her black hoodie off the passenger seat and pulled it over her head, keeping the hood up to shadow her face.

Glancing down at her shoes, she shook her head. Never again. She pulled them off and flexed her toes. It felt so good to free her feet, which hadn’t been built to wear heels. She peeled the map out of the right shoe before throwing the heels onto the back seat. She glanced around. She couldn’t think of a place in the car that was secure enough to stow the map. After a moment of contemplation, she zipped it up into the pocket on the arm of her hoodie.

She pulled on her biker boots and then rested her head on the steering wheel.
What else is going to go wrong tonight?
What had started out as a simple plan just seemed to keep getting more complicated. She shook her head.
It’s over now. Just get home, and then figure out how you’re going to avoid Meyer.

There were headlights in the distance, coming from the direction of Hawkins Hall. She slammed the car into first gear and did a U-turn, then headed back toward Manchester at full speed.

Once she sure she wasn’t being followed, she tried to remember what had been in her bag. No ID or bank cards—she was careful about that kind of thing—but she had a nagging feeling that she’d left something important behind. She couldn’t remember what it was, but she didn’t like the feeling.

She flipped on the radio and 3 Doors Down’s “Not My Time’ blared out of it. She watched the gray landscape flash past the windshield as the song touched something deep inside her. It had always been one of her favorites, but, since her dad died, it had new meaning for her. She didn’t know what she was going to do when she left this crazy life behind. It was all she knew, and it was her last connection to her father.

But working for Meyer was nothing like working with her father. It wasn’t simple cons anymore. It was big business—the kind that could get you killed. Organized crime was taking over. Meyer had shown Ellie respect when Stewart Phillips had been alive, but that died when he did. Meyer did give her the occasional job, but the jobs just seemed to get more and more dangerous. She had thought that Meyer was giving her a break with the Hawkins Hall gig. Now she wasn’t so sure…The only thing she knew for sure was that she had to get out. Her only option was to go for the big prize, one last score that would set her up for life. One easy haul, and then disappear.

“There’s no such thing as an easy job, girl. And the bigger the haul, the harder the grab.”
Her father’s words echoed through her head.

She gripped the steering wheel.
I can handle it.

Forget about the charming little cottage in the countryside. She was tired of cold, rainy England. Maybe it was time to make a new start somewhere else.

Loss ached inside her. Maybe it wasn’t the right time to give up her home, her life. The song hit every nerve. She wasn’t ready. She didn’t know how this was going to end. All she had was the map and a plan.

She pressed her foot down the accelerator, blazing down the empty highway. She’d keep on running until she finished this job. It was the only life she knew.

CHAPTER THREE

“W
ake the fuck up, will ya?” Jimmy’s voice jolted Ellie awake.

“Wha—what’s wrong?” She sat up and looked wildly around her father’s loft, one of his hideouts in the city. Unpainted brick walls and sparse furniture littered with random items like clothes and books surrounded her. Everything seemed to be just as it should be. She rubbed her eyes and tried to focus on Jimmy, who was standing at the end of the couch that she’d passed out on last night.

He pushed his black-framed glasses up his nose and glared at her. “What the hell did you do?”

“What? Nothing. Did something happen?”

Jimmy waved the pile of papers in his hand. “Do you know what this is?”

“I’m guessing it started its life as a tree before it ended up in your printer.”

“Oh, very funny. You should take that show on the road.”

Ellie straightened up and tried to look alert. Jimmy was clearly upset. He thrust the sheaf of papers at her. “This is the call log for your burner phone from last night. I printed it to show you how insane the activity on it is. Along with someone testing out all your numbers, there’s a trace on your phone, and Meyer’s been calling me all night. I thought you said you got away scot free?”

She stared at Jimmy. His dirty blond hair was a mess, sticking out all over the place under his black trilby. His thin black tie hung loosely around the collar of a crumpled white shirt. There were dark shadows under his usually bright blue eyes.

“Did you stay up all night?”

“Yes, I did. I was trying to save your idiot arse again. What the hell happened?”

“Calm down. It’s fine. I got away with it.” She flopped back onto her pillow. “It’s done, but there have been a few small changes to the plan.”

“Oh, really?” He pulled a newspaper out of the pile of papers and dropped it on her chest.

Ellie sighed and picked up the paper, rolling her eyes. Jimmy worried about everything. If a tree fell in the Amazon, he’d start wheezing and complaining about a lack of oxygen in the room. She glanced at the front page, and her blood froze in her veins. There was a large passport photograph of her. Under the photo a headline screamed off the page: High Society Vandalism!

She frowned and read the story. “Police are looking for this woman in connection with an act of vandalism committed during the Archeological Association’s annual ball and charity auction at Hawkins Hall late last night. The woman, identified as Jemma Jenkins, is suspected of destroying a priceless Incan artifact.”

“Oh, fuck.”


Vandalism?
I thought you were supposed to steal it, not break it. And do I even want to know how they got your photograph and the name Jemma Jenkins?” He put his hands on his hips and scowled at her. “It’s not just your arse on the line. If they find you, they find me.”

“Crap.” She dropped the paper, rolled over and put her pillow over her head. “This is a nightmare.”

“That’s right. Hide under your pillow like a little girl. That’ll fix it. God, how did I end up working with a child?”

Ellie narrowed her eyes. She rolled over, sat up and threw the pillow at Jimmy’s head. “You’re younger than I am!” she cried. “I need a moment to think.” Then she groaned.
The phone was in my handbag. My handbag is on Jacob’s bed.
Did Jacob put a trace on my phone? Crap!
“I left the burner phone at Hawkins Hall. Please tell me you didn’t answer Meyer’s calls.”

“Of course, I didn’t! I hate that arsehole. What do you mean you left your burner phone there? The one you called
me
from, the one with my phone number in it?”

“I left my bag on Jacob Hawkins’s bed with the phone in it.”

“What the fuck were you doing on his bed? No. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. What about the tablet? Tell me you got it, after all this.”

Ellie winced.

Jimmy took off his hat and ran a hand through his rumpled hair. “So, Meyer has been calling my phone non-stop because you botched the job? Do you at least have the
pieces
of the tablet?”

“I left them behind, but there was a map inside it. I took the map.”

Jimmy slumped down onto the couch and sighed. “A map?” He closed his eyes, shaking his head.

“A treasure map.” She grinned.

“Like the kind Tommy sells to the tourists?” he asked in a dead voice.

“No. This one is real!” She dragged her black hoodie off the floor and opened the pocket in the arm. She unfolded the old leather and showed him the map. “Look.”

He studied for a moment. “You don’t know it’s real.”

“This is a map to the Heart of Fortune, a huge diamond that went down with the
Henry Rose
. Look.” She pointed to the flag. “That’s the ship’s insignia. Dad researched this for years. And why hide it inside a bogus Incan tablet if it’s fake?”

“Your dad might have been obsessed with this treasure, Ellie, but you know he never intended you to do this. How many times did he tell you to quit the life and go to college?”

She waved the comment away. She was never going to be a good girl, and, anyway, any chance she had at the straight life disappeared the first time she took a job with Meyer. “Come on, this could be our big haul. It’s an adventure.” She tried to persuade him. “White beaches, sunken ships, and the Corazón de Fortuna.”

“I wither in direct sunlight,” he muttered. “And you don’t even know if the Heart exists. It’s just a legend.”

“This map says it exists.” She pointed to the roughly drawn heart on the map.

“And what is that a map of, exactly?”

She scrutinized the rough outlines of a coast as she tried to remember everything her father had ever told her about the Heart. “Somewhere in Central America, I think?”

Jimmy sniffed. “I am
not
going to a third-world country.”

“Fine. You stay here. Please give me a call before Meyer feeds you to his pigs.” She flashed her sweetest smile. Jimmy had been her friend for a lifetime. Both of them had been lost since her father had died. They needed each other, and he knew it.

“Why do you always drag me into your nightmares? Fuck! Fine, I’ll come with you,” he grumbled.

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “You won’t regret it. I promise!”

“I already do. And Jesus, woman, brush your goddamn teeth. What, did you eat a keg and an ashtray last night?”

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