Authors: Chris Keniston
“Yeah, well…” Herbie ran his hand along the back of his neck. “That depends on where all of this comes down. If we can stall till we dock back home, I can probably get the ball rolling.”
“Not likely,” Sophia said. “There’s more to this con, and it plays out in St. Thomas. According to George that’s where their Caribbean offices are, and, if you and I want in, we have to have the cash before we leave St. Thomas.”
Taking George down in St. Thomas was the first thing Luke had heard this afternoon that didn’t make his gut roil. “Better for us. If there really is an office and any other people involved, St. Thomas will be the place to nab them. With the land deal and the money exchange both being in US territories, this falls to one agency, the FBI.”
Herbie’s spine stiffened. “That will be a little tougher. In my day, cops dealing with the Feds usually meant a pissing match.”
“And what about the cash?” Sophia asked. “I don’t have that kind of money.”
Luke shrugged. “No problem. I’ll handle everything.”
All heads snapped in his direction.
If this shit was going to happen, there was no way he was leaving the details to anyone else. Especially not if he wanted to keep Sharla and Sophia out of harm’s way. “I’ll make the calls. Get the authorities on board. We just need to nail down the place and make sure George has the right paperwork with him when the exchange happens so the arrest sticks.”
Even though US agencies like the CIA and FBI were famous for not playing nice or sharing information, most agents were always willing to return a favor. Especially when your intel brought down a terrorist-funding plot in Small Town, USA, long before all hell could break loose in the media. Luke still had the phone numbers.
“So that’s it?” Sophia sprang up, fisted hands landing on her hips. “We’re just going to turn these guys over and not recover any of the stolen money swindled from your brother-in-law?”
“The Feds will confiscate their belongings and recover whatever money they can. There will be some compensation.” Herbie’s voice came out tired and raspy and not very reassuring.
Sitting back down, Sophia muttered, “We all know how well that worked out for Bernie Madoff’s investors.”
The next thirty minutes were spent hammering out the details. It was in essence very simple. Herbie and Sophia would arrive at a designated location with fifty thousand US dollars and not relinquish the money until Good Old George turned over the incriminating phony investment paperwork. All Luke would have to do—in the next few days before they docked in St. Thomas—was convince the FBI to get involved, make sure the local authorities did their part, and, oh, yeah, get his hands on fifty thousand dollars to use as bait.
Chapter Eighteen
“Yes.” Sophia leaned forward and scribbled “Lady Madonna” on the piece of paper.
Gloria gave a quick thumbs-up, then slapped Sophia with a high-five. Over the last three days and three island ports, the two had become friendlier than a sniper and his rifle. And that made Luke just a wee bit nervous.
The next tune played, and the bridge of Sophia’s nose crinkled in thought. When the cruise staff played the beginning notes of the song a second time, Sophia spun around to Gloria only to find the same pensive glare staring back at her.
Suddenly Gloria’s eyes opened wide, and she hurriedly scrawled something on her scratch paper before passing it over to Sophia. The fired-up redhead slapped another high-five at Sophia, and Luke had to sip his drink to stifle a laugh.
“You know”—Sharla leaned in and set her hand on his—“Mom says Nana was the only grown woman she knew who cried the day it was announced the Beatles had broken up.”
“Can’t see it.” He folded his fingers around hers. Ever since the day in San Juan, they’d done a considerable bit of hand-holding and shared a few chaste kisses, but he’d done his best to bank the heady passion that had erupted the night of Herbie and Sophia’s little tryst. Since that night there’d been no more scarf incidents. Apparently everyone was on their best behavior, preparing for the big day.
Which helped him keep it in his pants. Especially since he only had the rest of the cruise to convince Sharla that he was more than his job. He already knew how to love her body; now he had to win her heart.
On Tortola, they laughed over Sharla’s great-aunts’ crazy antics while she helped Luke pick out gifts for his family. Touring the grounds of the old fort in St. Kitts, they discovered a mutual interest in history. And by yesterday, relaxing over food and drinks from a beachfront balcony in St. Maarten, Luke had felt as though Sharla had always been at his side. Imagining himself back to his lone-wolf way of life seemed impossible. Which was one more reason why leaving her at her cabin door the last few nights was absolutely killing him.
But tonight his mind was on other concerns, like Sharla’s growing anxiety. While Sophia seemed to be having the time of her life, and Herbie appeared completely nonplussed about tomorrow’s big takedown, Sharla looked like a soft wind would be enough to have her jumping out of her skin. And the one thing he knew to do for relief was the last thing she needed from him right now.
“And the title for song number three?” Becky asked into the mic.
“Lady Madonna,” Gloria and Sophia echoed.
The routine continued down the line. Song after song, they cheered, laughed, bumped fists and overall acted like a couple of college kids on spring break. Even the ladies in the red hats got in on the minifestivities. By the time Becky got to song number fifteen, the Red Hats had shifted their chairs closer. By number twenty, all the women were singing and toasting each correct answer.
Tapping her fingers on her lap, Sharla merely smiled stiffly and sipped her strawberry daiquiri.
This evening’s grand prizes for the winning team members were picture frame magnets. Probably the most useful of the awards for anyone who liked to stick papers to their fridge. Luke would give his to his mother. She’d like that.
Sophia stood up, a pomegranate martini in her hand and her spoils in the other. “Okay, where to now?”
“The dance party. You coming?” Wide-Brimmed Red Hat Lady was swinging her hips in place to the Beatles tunes still playing overhead.
“That’s right.” Sophia linked elbows with Red Hat Lady. “We’ll show these kids how it’s done.”
“Absolutely,” four women in red hats echoed.
Drinks in hand and Gloria in tow, the group of laughing ladies wandered off, leaving Herbie and George standing alone.
“Casino?” Herbie asked.
“Casino,” George agreed.
“You two joining us or the cackling hens?” Herbie asked almost as a second thought.
“I think we’ll take a walk.” Luke hadn’t asked Sharla what she’d prefer to do, but he’d already decided she needed to get away from the Baileys, and fresh air would be just the medicine the doctor ordered. Or the next best thing.
“Thank you.”
Sharla linked arms with him, and his heart swelled at the progress they’d made the last few days. For one thing, she wasn’t blushing anymore every time she looked at him.
“I really do like walking out here at night. It’s so peaceful, and the stars are magnificent.”
“Not much competition for sparkle in the middle of the ocean.” He let his hand slide down and thread with hers.
“No. No, there isn’t.” They walked an entire lap in silence. Another lap later, Sharla blew out a sigh. “Nana seems to think all this is one big game.”
“I’m not surprised. From the stories she’d told the last couple of days, some of those cons would make great movies. The one where she and her sisters had to sell Daddy’s farm before the bank foreclosed. To four different people. And they didn’t even own the place.”
“And they only had a few days while the family who did own the property was on vacation.”
“It sounded like they should all have won Academy Awards.”
“Nana always said you can’t con an honest man. She was so proud of the fact that they only took those who had already taken others.”
“You believe that?”
“Yeah. I think I do.” Sharla led him off the path and over to the railing. Standing beside him, she studied the moon hanging low in the distance. “I also think this is like a walk down memory lane for her. And it scares me.”
“I won’t let anything happen to her.” He tipped his head and placed a lightly there kiss on her temple. “I think she knows what she’s doing. She’s certainly put her all into getting friendly with Gloria.”
“She’s been working overtime to make sure they don’t think she or Herbie are suspicious.”
“And she’s doing a bang-up job.”
“Yeah.” Pivoting slightly, she tilted her head to watch him. “So are you.”
“Me?”
“Getting all the right people involved. Arranging for the money. That’s above and beyond the call of duty, and awfully nice of you.”
“I’m glad I could help.” He honestly was afraid that, if he didn’t help Herbie nab this guy, Sophia would have called every relative under the sun to put together a sweet, complicated and dangerous con. “The money will be waiting for them at the St. Thomas National Bank. This way, if George or Gloria wants to tag along, the entire transaction will look legit. It will seem as though Sophia’s and Herbie’s banks in Florida had wired the money.”
“What if he insists we meet his partner at their office?”
Luke doubted George would want that. Luke doubted the crook even had an office. He wasn’t even all that sure there was an accomplice. He expected George to collect the money and make a beeline to the nearest branch of the Cayman Island Bank. Funds never to be traced again.
“I wouldn’t worry about it. We stick to the plan. You and I will go with them. Then before the transactions take place, we’ll bid our good-byes to go shopping. You’ll go on ahead, and I’ll keep an eye on them. When it’s all over, I’ll call you.”
“I said it before, and I’ll say it again. I don’t like that part.”
“It will be okay.” He kissed her forehead again.
Her eyes fluttered shut. “I can’t think when you do that.”
“Don’t think.” The temptation to dip his chin and press his lips to hers was fighting a losing battle with his carefully timed plan to win her trust and then her heart. Only then would he be able to make her see past what he did for a living. He hoped.
“Could you do that again?”
Her hand slid up his chest and cast the final blow in his inner battle. His mouth covering hers, all the sensations that had swarmed him the other night took over. Pressed against him, she fit so perfectly. Every curve seemed custom-made to mold to his angles. He could kiss her all night, every night, forever.
When her hands strolled higher and hooked around his neck, his mouth lingered moments longer before he found the strength to pull back. “You really are a great kisser.”
“You’re no slouch.”
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.