SHANK (A Wilde Crime Series) (8 page)

“Then stop acting like one.”
My tone was cruel, but fear overrode kindness. “I’ve got enough on my plate. I don’t have the time or energy for games. Promise me you’re not going to do anything stupid.”

She glared
, tossing fiery red curls. “You win, Ian.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just what I said. You win. I won’t go to Sal.” She grabbed a blanket and my pillow from the bed and started out of the room.

“Come on, Frankie,” I said. “Where are you going?”

“The couch,” she called
over her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I can manage to get there without your help.”

“Come on, Frankie, be reason
—”

She slammed the door
on my words. The edge of her blanket caught in the doorframe. I smiled at her muffled cursing as she tugged, trying to release it. The door flew open. She ripped the blanket free and slammed it again. Redheads.

I woke up starving with the kind of hunger that wouldn’t be satisfied with a simple snack. I rubbed my eyes, replaying last night’s argument. What did Frankie expect? There was no way in hell I’d let her put herself in danger. No fucking way. Blowing out a frustrated breath, I glanced toward the empty couch and shook my head. She certainly made life interesting.

I
heard her in the shower singing, Dicey Riley, slightly off-key. Damn if her husky purr didn’t send shivers across my body. It was too early to deal with this shit. I needed coffee and I needed it now. Picking up the house phone, I dialed room service. At least I could fulfill one craving.

Room service
arrived as shower turned off. Drew had yet to make an appearance, but his companion from last night had a few minutes ago. Her red leather dress and eight-inch heels suggested hooker, but the five hundred dollars clutched in her fist was what really convinced me.

I ushered the room service waiter in
to the hotel suite. He stood by the door juggling food-laden trays while the hooker reapplied a thick coating of lipstick in the hallway mirror. “Put it over there,” I said to him, gesturing to the coffee table. The waiter’s eyes stayed fixed on the Amazon blonde in red leather, but he did as I asked.

“Tell
Drew to give me a call sometime,” the hooker said with a wink. She blew me a kiss, and left the suite. I shook my head and lifted a silver lid from a plate of scrambled eggs. “Smells good,” I said, as Frankie came out of the bathroom in a knee length kimono. The server’s eyes widened, and I swear I could see drool form at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks.” I slipped him a few bucks and shoved him out the door.

Frankie combed her fingers through
a veil of her hair. “Was that room service?”

I nodded, pouring her a cup
of coffee. I added a pink packet of sugar substitute and a dab of milk to the mug. “Drink up.” I handed her the hot beverage and filled my own cup, adding nothing but undiluted caffeine. “We’ve only got a couple of hours before we have to hit the road,” I said. Last night we cleared twenty grand. We were still about ten short.

“What’s the rush?”
She yawned. “Drew’s not even awake.”

“
I don’t think Drew’s in any condition to help.” I knocked his door, waiting for an answer. Nothing. I knocked again, louder. I opened it and went in to make sure he was still breathing. Luckily, he was, unfortunately that was all I could say. The room reeked of booze and vomit. Lying naked across the bed with an empty pill bottle inches from his head, Drew slept like the dead. Disgusted, I slammed the door satisfied when he groaned.

Frankie laughed
as I opened and closed the door again to torture him. “So what’s the plan?” she asked. I could always count on her. Even when she hated my guts she was willing to do whatever I asked. That thought sent visions of sweaty limbs and exchanged bodily fluids through my head.

Tearing my eyes from the droplet of water slipping between the silk fabric of her kimono and down the valley of her breasts, I said,
“I’m going to head down to the casino…check out the action.” I paused, trying hard to keep my breathing normal. “Drink your coffee, eat something, and meet me on the floor in fifteen minutes.”

“Attire?”

“Nothing fancy. We’re going to play it straight. Get in, get out, and we’re on the road by two.” She nodded, and I slipped the .38 in the holster. My jacket concealed it well enough. I gave her a warning look. “Don’t take unnecessary risks and watch your back.”

“Fifteen minutes,”
she said.

I nodded and left t
he suite with a sinking feeling.

******

I peeked at my watch and scanned the casino. No sign of Frankie. She was twenty minutes late, and I started to get concerned. I called the suite ten minutes ago, and no one answered. Where the fuck were they?

“Sir, the bet
’s four hundred to you,” the acne-scarred dealer said.

“Call.”
I didn’t bother to look at my cards as I tossed the money in the pot. Instead I stared at the lizard like eyes of my opponent. He was a cardsharp’s favorite mark. Too much money and too little common sense. A used car salesman from Dallas, Lizard Man believed he had a foolproof system. Aggressively he bluffed by pitching thousands of dollars into the pot. The corners of his mouth tightened when he had anything big. I was up five grand, and figured it would take another half an hour before I had the full ten.

Where was Frankie?

Lizard Man flung in another five hundred. Reaching for my stack of chips, I raised three. He hurled his cards down. My face remained impassive as I collected in the chips. An urgent hand tapped my shoulder. I turned in my seat, coming face-to-face with Frankie’s c-cups. She stood next to me, anxiety lining her features.

“We should go,” she said, glancing around the casino floor.

Two security guards approached us. Fuck. Now would definitely be a good time. I rose, scooping my pile of chips up and grabbed Frankie’s arm. We pushed past the afternoon crowd, ducking and weaved through sunburned tourist and drunken dentists. The guards were closing in, faces grim.

I dragged
Frankie in my wake, knocking over a potted palm at the end of a row of slot machines. Soil spilled across the floor. Without stopping the guards leapt over the dirt pile and fallen tree. “What did you do?” I asked through clenched teeth.

“Nothing.”

“So why are we fleeing?”

She shrugged
. “There might have been a small scene. Not my fault.”

“No one died I take it?”

“Not yet,” she joked.

Through the plate gl
ass of the casino door, I saw Drew’s car idling at the curb. We were about a hundred feet away and the guards were closing fast. Fuck. We’d never reach it. I had a choice to make. “Go,” I said, pushing her ahead of me. I stopped and opened my jacket, the .38 visible in my shoulder holster. The guards slowed, now moving with caution.

“
Ian, no.” She tugged at my arm.

“Go. Now.” My tone was hard, leaving no room for argument.

She nodded, running for the exit. I smiled as the rumble of the Mustang faded down the street. Thirty seconds later, a muscle-bound security guard put his hand on my shoulder. “Sir, keep your hands where we can see them….”

Freed from casino security a few hours later, I made my way from the Plaza to the underground parking garage. It took a promise to never to enter the Plaza again and a five thousand dollar bribe before the guards had let me go. They would’ve done so sooner if I hadn’t broken one of their noses after he called Frankie my whore.

In the guard’s defense,
Frankie had kicked his ass in front of a casino full of people. A wealthy oil executive from last night’s game had tried to pursue a closer relationship with Frankie, in an empty elevator. He wound up with a black eye as did the guard pulling her off the guy. I scanned the rows of cars in the garage for Drew’s Mustang, narrowing in on it three lanes from the back.

Frankie
waited for me, leaning against the fender like a bad beer commercial. Drew was asleep in the driver’s seat. I approached her shaking my head. “You couldn’t have said a polite no thanks?”

She frowned
. “I tried, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer.”

“I think he learned his lesson.”

“Ian, I didn’t—”

“It’s all right. We’re ahead
forty grand.” Another ten thousand would be easy enough to scrape together. “Let’s get moving. We have to be in D.C. by six.” I opened the car door, motioning for her to get in.

She
slammed the door closed, narrowly missing my outstretched hand. “D.C.?”

Damn
, I’d forget to tell her. This was going to get messy. “We’re picking Clair up.”

“The same Clair who
’d almost got you killed?” She bit out each word.

I grinned.
“The very same one.”

“Are you insane?”
her yell echoed off the concrete structure.

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Why?”

I wrapped my arms across my chest.
“She saved my life,” I said, which was, in the strictest sense true. Frankie didn’t need to know about the Cayman deal. If she found out there would be hell to pay. She’d want in and I wasn’t about to put her in danger. Look at what had happened in the last twenty-four hours. She’d been accosted twice and I’d almost been arrested. Who knew what would happen if I took her to rob the bank?

“
Do you love her?” she asked, her voice quiet.

I
chuckled. “Come on, you know better than that. Wilde’s don’t fall in love.” Or at least this Wilde didn’t. Sure, I’d said those three little words before, but I’d never meant them. Love was for other men. Guys that failed to calculate the odds, and more often than not lost.

Frankie stared at me for a long minute.
Finally she shook her and opened the car door and without another word she slipped inside. I climbed in after her and we set off. Silence filled the car for the rest of the trip to D.C., which was fine with me. After the last two days, I was happy to sit back and enjoy the peace. I should have known it wouldn’t last.

******

“Ian?” Clair’s tone was uncertain.

I gave her a smile
, running my eyes along the soft curves of her body. She looked great, like a naughty Barbie doll in a pink wraparound dress. “Zoë didn’t tell you I was coming?” I asked with complete sincerity, even though I knew damn well she hadn’t. Mostly because I hadn’t said a word to Zoë. I wasn’t stupid. If Zoë knew what I had planned she’d keep Clair far from me.

“No, she didn’t.
” Clair bit her bottom lip. “Maybe I should give her a call?”

“Suit yourself,” I said with a
Boy Scout smile, while inside I seethed. I needed Clair to trust me. The three of us, Drew, Frankie and me, stood there, waiting for Clair to make up her mind. I held my breath but kept my face unreadable. If she didn’t agree we were fucked. “It’s only a ride, sweetheart,” I promised, eyes radiating sincerity and charm. “You can trust me.”

Frankie let out a
snort and Clair grinned.

I glared at Frankie.
“Clair, these are my friends, Drew O’Dell and Frankie Hurley.”

Drew
stepped forward, kissing her hand. “It’s a pleasure. Ian’s told me so much about you.” Frankie rolled her eyes, but kept silent. Clair smiled, pulling her hand from his. “It’s nice to meet you, both,” she added looking at Frankie with interest. “Thanks for...the ride.”

“
Those your bags?” I asked, wanting to get our little circus on the road. There were four large suitcases sitting behind her. She nodded, and I grabbed the closest one. It must have weighed sixty pounds. What the hell was she carrying? Drew helped me load the car while Frankie squished into the backseat with Clair.

“Ready?” I asked
once we were settled. Clair nodded, looking forlorn and a little lost, her face growing more distance and fearful with every mile that past. Guilt snuck up on me, but swallowed it back. In the city, feelings were the enemy, conscience a death wish. The cards had been dealt. It was time to play my hand.

After a couple of hours on the highway we pulled to the curb in front of O’Malley’s. I stared at the decaying building, seeing it through Clair’s eyes. I’d be surprised if she didn’t run before we reached the front step. “Drew,” I said with a pointed glance at Frankie. “Why don’t you and Frankie get Clair’s bags?” I needed to gain Clair’s agreement before we went any further. For that I had to get rid of Frankie. Drew gave me a blank look until I titled my head toward Clair.

“
Oh, right,” he said with a nod. Moron, I thought as Frankie glared at me with suspicion. Drew opened the car door and helped her out of the backseat. Her eyebrow rose in question but she didn’t push.

“So what do you want?”
Clair asked once we were alone.