SHANK (A Wilde Crime Series) (5 page)

“What’s the other
thing?” Drew stroked his chin and the growth of black stubble decorating it.

I grinned. “A five foot seven, classy blonde.”

“Tall order,” Andy joked, causing eye rolls from the rest of guys.

“Even more important,” I
winced, “we need a blonde we can trust with twelve million in cash.”

Drew
laughed. “That does limit the options.”

“On top of that. S
he’s got to be one hell of an actress.” I frowned, considering what I was saying. “We need her to walk in the bank and pick up the cash and walk back out without batting an eye. Mickey, we’ll need Jack’s death certificate and some fake id’s for our bogus Bev.”

“I can get the ids.” Mickey h
ad connections all over the city. Associates willing to do anything for a couple of hundred bucks.

“
And I can get the girl,” Drew said, and we all laughed. Drew’s taste in women was legendary. Women loved him and left him at a regular pace. After a while, it had become a running joke. He’d meet a woman and we’d take bets on how long she’d stick.

“No offense,
Drew.” Mickey smirked. “But it’s my ass on the line, and I ain’t trusting it to one of your women.”

“Fair enough.”
He shrugged and added slyly, “Got a better idea? If I remember, Beth’s short and brunette.”

“I might know someone.” I thought of Clair
’s lethal body and golden hair. I turned to Neil, asking, “If I find the girl, can you help her into the role?” If anyone could teach a bogus Bev the right moves, he could. After all, he’d directed some of the most talented actresses on Broadway.

“I guess
.” Neil tapped his forehead, considering. “But she’d better have talent. Two weeks isn’t a lot of time.” Clair had talents all right, but I had no idea if she could act. I frowned. Two weeks. Actually less since Clair was at rehab and wouldn’t be out for two more days. I didn’t even know if she’d agree. After all, we hardly knew each other outside the bedroom.

“What
can I do?” Drew asked, not one to be left out.

I placed a hand on his shoulder. “What you do best, my friend.”

His face clouded. “What’s that?”

“H
ustle some cash,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “We need at least fifty thousand to pull this off.”

Coming up with fifty thousand dollars in cash felt like an overwhelming task, but not when I had Drew. He had the Midas touch, as long as he kept his eye on the prize. The problem: Drew had a weird sort of ADD when it came to women and gambling. A perfect example. A year ago, he went to Vegas to play cards. He was up a hundred grand and feeling no pain when a stage show dancer caught his attention. Two hours later, he was down thirty and getting the shit beat out of him in an alley.

But m
y plan was simple. We’d take the seventeen grand I’d won off Dumb and Dumber, and head to Atlantic City. Once there, we’d weasel our way into a high stakes game. After we’d gotten the cash, I’d swing by the clinic in D.C. and pick Clair up, and convince her to risk everything to follow me to a far off island to pilfer twelve million from a high security bank. Simple. The crew and I discussed the finer points. “This is not going to work,” Mickey said, shaking his head.

“It will,”
I said with more confidence than I felt. “When has one of my plans not worked?”

“Remember that time
…,” Drew started.

“Buffalo,” Andy recalled with a grin.

Neil added, “Seventh grade….The nuns…”

“I still haven’t recovered all the feeling in my right foot
from…,” Mickey was saying.

I held up my hand for quiet. “Fine, but this
one’s foolproof.” They finally agreed after a few minor revisions, one of which included a .50 caliber Desert Eagle. In a few hours, Drew and I would head to Atlantic City while Andy checked on the bank and specifically, the account with the cash. Neil wanted to get a taste for Bev. Get to know her mannerisms, see how she walked, and talked. To do that he needed to go online and see what tidbits cyberspace held. Mickey looked relived, even cracking a smile or two. We had a plan, a purpose, and a goal. Now all I had to do was keep from fucking it up.

Before we went our separate ways, I gestured to Mickey.
“We’ll need passports.” This created a problem. First off, I was a felon and leaving the country wasn’t going to be easy. But more importantly, the bogus Bev would need official documentation to show the bank bureaucrats, namely, a real passport.

“No problem,”
he said, full of confidence. “What name do you want on your passport?”

“Doesn’t matter.
Just make sure it looks real enough to get me back into the country. I don’t want to get stuck in paradise.” As corrupt as the Kitchen was, Grand Cayman was far worse. The bankers there made crack dealers here look like Mother Theresa. “Okay, I guess we’re on then.” The crew nodded in agreement.

“What’s on?” Frankie
stood in the doorway.

“
Shouldn’t you be working?” I asked, my face a mask of intimidation.

She stuck out her tongue. A
silver stud blinked in the light. “I knew it. You’re up to something.”

“Leave it alone, sis,
” Mickey said, trying to drag her from the room.

“
I want in.” She dug her heels in. “Whatever it is, I can help.”

“No,
” I said, voice hard. I refused to get her involved. The risk was too great. We could end up in jail, and Oscar still posed a threat, if he was after the money too.

“Don’t be stupid.”
She glared at me.

Stupid? I was trying to protect her and she called me stupid. One of these days, she was going to push me too far
, and I wouldn’t be responsible for my actions. Pictures of washing her mouth out with soap came to mind, and I smiled.

“Wait,
Ian.” Drew grinned, holding up his hand. “We could use her in Atlantic City. An extra player will make it easier. Besides, she’ll pretty us up some.”

“I’m plenty pretty,” I joked, and the rest of
the crew shook their heads. Drew had a point. The two of us, no matter how well we cleaned up, looked like thugs. It was written in our DNA, from the tattoos covering my arms to Drew’s shifty gaze. We stood out in a crowd, unless it was a crowd of degenerates.

Andy add
ed, “Frankie’s a pro. Take her with you. What’s the harm?”

I could think of a few. Namely,
not only would I have to worry about Drew, but I’d also have to watch for sharks circling Frankie. She was trouble, the type of danger I just didn’t need. “Please.” Her eyes projected sweetness, and her voice went soft and warm. Mickey put a comforting hand on her shoulder and glared at me. Andy and Drew followed suit. I might have felt like an ass had I not known her better.

Neil stoo
d, clapping his hands. “Bravo. Why ever did you quit acting?”             

“I grew tired of the constant pra
ise and adoration of my multitude of fans.” With an unrepentant smile, she motioned around the room. “Besides how could I give all this up?”

“If only she was blonde
we’d have found our Scarlet.” Neil drummed a finger against his chin. I choked on my coffee, spewing brownish liquid down my shirt. “No fucking way.” She might be a pain in the ass, but she wasn’t anything like Bev. Bev was a cold, calculating bitch whereas Frankie was all attitude and passion.

“Would someone tell me what’s going on?”
She stomped her foot in frustration. I flashed back to when she was ten, and she wanted Mickey to take her ice-skating. She’d worn a similar expression. Spoiled brat.

Against my be
tter judgment, I said, “How’d you like to take a trip to Atlantic City?”

The neon glow of Atlantic City came into focus as we flew along Absecon Boulevard. The boardwalk promised fun, fantasy, and riches beyond compare. It was a whimsical oasis for the whole family. Mom and Dad could gamble away the twins’ college fund while the kids smoked weed with tattooed teens in baggy pants.

Finding a high stakes game
wouldn’t be hard, but leaving with someone else’s cash might be. No one liked to lose, and high rollers take the term poor loser to another level. Stretching my cramped legs, I fought for a comfortable position in Drew’s Mustang, but it was no use. I wouldn’t find peace until we had fifty grand and Frankie was back home, safely tucked away. She sat in the backseat, laughing and joking as we sped along the strip. Her contagious enthusiasm had me on edge. I was a fucking idiot. Each time she opened her mouth I was reminded of that fact.

Why had I agreed to
bring her? I slid a glance at her through the side mirror. Her face was alight with excitement, eyes fixated on the swirl of multicolored lights. Like a crystal ball the grimy mirror foretold of disaster.

“The Plaza?”
Drew nodded to a passing casino. I took stock. There were people everywhere—hookers, old ladies, and drag queens lined the walkways. Bums begged quarters from passing tourists, and teenagers with steel studs through various orifices chain-smoked in front of the billion dollar casinos. Yep, the Plaza would suit our needs perfectly. It had easy access to and from the boardwalk, not to mention ‘the loosest slots in town’ as a sign overhead boasted.

“Pull in.
” I pointed to the parking garage.

Tires squealing
Drew did as I asked. My head hit the side window and Drew grinned. “Sorry.” Funny, he didn’t look sorry, more amused than anything.

“
Do the words low profile mean anything to you?” I shook my head and grabbed my bag from the trunk once we’d safely come to a stop. “Wait here.” I motioned to the front door of the hotel. Drew nodded, but Frankie looked disappointed.

“Ian?”
Her blue-flame colored eyes held mine, and her lower lips actually trembled. And the Academy award goes to…. “Fine, come on. But keep your mouth shut,” I ordered, but it lacked any real bite. She grinned and fell into step next to me.

“I
’ll just wait here with the car.” Drew lit a cigarette, a cloud blue smoke curled from the end. I frowned. How much trouble could he get into in the five minutes it would take to get a room? A lot. I gestured to him. “Why don’t you help me carry the bags in?” He agreed with a casual shrug and crushed his cigarette under his boot heel.

We
walked through the glitzy lobby to the concierge desk. I explained our needs and slipped the concierge a thousand dollars. In turn, he flagged down a bellhop and slipped the cash into his pocket like a pro. “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Smith,” he said with a leering grin aimed at Frankie.

“Smith?” Frankie
smiled as we walked away. “That’s original.”

“It was between Smith or Jones.” I grinned. “I figured I looked more like a Smith kind of guy.”

Ten minutes later, the bellhop ushered us into the penthouse suite. The main room had a twenty-foot cathedral ceiling, a crystal chandelier, and gold inlayed tile. Two bedrooms stood off to the side, there doorways sporting images of cherubs, and what I assumed was Lady Luck, or maybe a succubus. At times it’s hard to tell the difference. A fruit basket and champagne bottle sat on the counter. Everything was beautiful and expensive, surroundings fit for a king, but we’d make do. Frankie stood underneath the chandelier. “This place is amazing.” Like a married man in a strip club, her eyes widened as she took stock.

I tipped the
bellhop and closed the door before answering, “If we want to play with the big boys we have to convince them we are big boys.”

Drew
stepped out of the smaller of the two bedrooms. A wide grin split his face. “Only two bedrooms…” He rubbed his chin as if considering the dilemma, eyes slowly scanning the curves of Frankie’s body.

I snapped my fingers to get his attention.
“We won’t be making much use of either of them.” I checked my watch. “Drew, I want you to scope out the casino. Find us an in.”

He
nodded, all teasing aside. “What are you going to do?”

I nodded toward Frankie.
“I’m going to peddle our best asset.” The asset under discussion was bent over, stroking the thousand-dollar carpeting with envy.

Drew
grinned. “If she only knew.”

“Oh, she knows.”
I pulled a couple of bills from my wallet and handed him half of our stake. “Find a game and give me a call on my cell.” He nodded, looking from the cash to Frankie’s denim-clad ass. I tapped him on the head, adding, “Don’t fuck this up. No distractions, we play to win and get the hell out.” 

“Right.”
He smirked. “No distractions. Play to win.”

“Good luck.”
I shook his hand, noticing a tremor.

“Who needs luck?”
Brimming with chemically induced confidence he didn’t wait for an answer, but headed for the door. He captured Frankie from behind and spun her around. “A kiss for luck,” he said, crushing her mouth to his. He let her go, winked at me, and walked out the door, whistling.