Shell Game (14 page)

Surely after all these years her grandmother wasn’t coming out of retirement. To the best of Sharla’s knowledge, her grandmother hadn’t been involved in a real con since Grandpa had died. How Sharla wished she’d paid more attention to the stories. What were all the cons? The Shell Game, The Wire, The Pay Up…or was it Payoff?
Blast
.

And which the hell one involved buying into land development deals? Except…wasn’t it usually the crook who offered up the phony sale, not the other way around? But there were all sorts of cons where the grifter pretended to offer up a ton of cash to get what they wanted from the mark. Look at all the stupid Internet scams about inherited millions from a country no one ever heard of.

What she needed was a deep breath and a stiff drink. After all the games and entertainment tonight, when they got back to the cabin, she’d just ask Nana what was what. That’s all. Nice and simple.

“Sharla?”

She felt the warmth of Luke’s hand on her arm before she heard her name. That was twice today that the slightest of his touches had her full attention. “Hmm?”

“I’m skipping dessert. Have a couple of things to see to before trivia tonight.” His hand remained in place, and, when she hesitated while her mind struggled to process his words, his thumb moved back and forth with the barest of caresses. “You okay?”

Dropping her gaze to watch his finger graze across her wrist, she realized she didn’t want him to stop. Didn’t want him to get up and leave. Forcing herself to raise her gaze to meet his, the depth of concern she found in his eyes slammed into her like a middle linebacker. She nodded, afraid to speak. Afraid of the words that might slip through the filters in her brain.

His thumb stopped moving, but his hand didn’t move. “You sure?”

“Yes,” she mumbled softly.

Hesitantly he pulled away, and she stopped herself from snatching his hand back. Made herself look toward the others. Wondered how everyone else could be chatting so completely unaware of the energy sparking between her and Luke. And stumped by what to do about it.

* * *

During the entire walk from the dining room to the computer stations, Luke failed to push Sharla from his thoughts. Something had been bothering her. He didn’t have to be a damn mind reader to know that much. What he did know was that he didn’t like seeing her worried or upset. And that got him thinking about what had caused the little dip in her brow which told him that she wasn’t lost in happy thoughts.

Seated at the computer, he typed a message to Kate.

LUKE: Got more info. Possible previous deals in Fiji and Barbados. Current deal east of San Juan
.

Kate’s dialogue box popped up.
Hi, there
.

LUKE: Hi. How goes it?

KATE: Fine. Some muckety-muck is up Conway’s butt. He doesn’t have time to notice a little side work.
 

LUKE: Good. This new place, the locals call it Miracle Bend. Something about monks and typhoid fever. Used to be sugar cane fields.

KATE: Okay…got it!

LUKE: Knew you would, babe.

KATE: Officially it’s Puerto de Nueva Granada, the harbor for the abandoned village Nueva Granada.

LUKE: So I heard. Who owns the land?

KATE: Let’s see.

He stared at the blank screen willing the right words to flash before him.

KATE: Hmm. I’m going to need some time to dig a little deeper.

LUKE: What is it?
As if he expected the guy to be legit.

KATE: Unless your guy is the department of agriculture…

LUKE: Definitely not.

KATE: Let me dig. There’s some weird shit here about surfers.

Surfers?

LUKE: OK. I’ll check back later
.

KATE: See ya!

LUKE: Thanks again.

KATE: Anything for that smile!

And before he could type
Back at you
, she was gone.

By the time he made it to the lounge for trivia, his five tablemates were ready to play and had saved him a seat. Next to Sharla.

With a smile, Sophia handed him a spare pencil. “Thought you were going to miss the start. Hope you’re a Michael Jackson fan.”

“Never miss a date with you.” He grinned back. Truth was, he was enjoying the games just as much as Sophia. Even if they weren’t a matter of life or death. “We’ll have to see about Michael.”

The first tune had most people in the room under forty scratching their heads.

Sophia immediately wrote “Rocking Robin.”

When a few of the younger folks were stumped, they protested that wasn’t a Michael Jackson song. Becky, the brunette from the cruise staff, explained tonight’s contest included hits from the Jackson Five. The frowns abounding in the crowd indicated they were not pleased with the prospect.

Luke had to laugh. All this fuss over winning a key chain or highlighter. Now if they were giving free drinks…

Between the four of them—Sophia, Sharla, Gloria and him—they should have nailed them all. That is if Gloria knew her Michael Jackson as well as she had claimed.

Herbie and George were doing their best to carry on a conversation without annoying Sophia.

Though Luke tried to keep one ear on the two men’s talk, he was having more fun dissecting the first five notes of some of the biggest hits of the nineties.

Fifteen minutes later Sophia was doing her winning shimmies, and the six of them had cruise line money belts.

Luke still didn’t get why the cruise line didn’t just give out vouchers for a free drink. The company had to know most of these prizes were going to wind up in a trash can between here and the passengers’ kitchens back home.

“Now where to?” Gloria seemed more excited tonight than any other night.

And she deserved it. She’d been right on the six songs that had the rest of them stumped. The woman knew her Michael Jackson. She’d turned out to be smarter than Luke had expected about a lot of the trivia. Tonight they’d been the only team to get all twenty tunes correct.

“I vote for craps.” Sophia raised her fists and shook her shoulders. “I’m feeling lucky.”

Herbie glanced over, and Luke was pretty sure he saw the guy salivating. Herbie clearly had it bad for the feisty old bird. And Luke couldn’t blame Herbie. If Luke had been fifteen years older, and Sophia fifteen years younger, he’d have fallen for her himself. Though it gave him a good picture of what to expect with Sharla in thirty or forty years.

Thirty or forty years
? Was that what he wanted?

Shaking her head at her grandmother, Sharla had undone the plastic wrapping, extended the strap, and hung the versatile pouch from her neck. “I vote for the show. We haven’t seen one yet.”

“Tonight’s the comedian. I heard he’s pretty good.” Herbie said this more to Sophia than the group.

“Nope,” Sophia responded. “I don’t want to sit in a chair and watch. I want to participate.” She whipped out her trusty daily report. “I suppose we could do poolside bingo after dark.”

“I love bingo.” Gloria rubbed her hands together. “Besides, I’m with Sophia. I’m feeling lucky.”

“Then I guess bingo it is.” Herbie held his arm out to Sophia, George followed suit, and Luke stared at Sharla.

The next thirty years of his life were running through his mind in fast forward, and, try as he might, none of it seemed right without Sharla. He slowly extended his elbow to her. “Shall we join them?”

Sliding her hand into the crook of his arm, she flashed that smile that felt like warm sunshine. “At least it’s not craps.”

He wasn’t so sure about that. Something told him that, if he tossed the dice and went after Sharla tonight with the life he had now, he’d roll snake eyes.

The lounge emptied quickly. Many of the trivia players hurried to the late-night dinner seating. Others left in search of who-knew-what. Only a few settled in for another drink and the soft sounds of the famous crooners from the fifties flowing from the sound system.

Having led the way, George and Gloria were already out of sight. Herbie and Sophia were at the top of the three steps exiting the lounge when Sharla’s grip on his arm tightened, her eyes widening.

Before Luke could see what had stopped Sharla, a hard thud sounded across the room followed by a loud smack.

“Oh, no.” Sharla’s gaze settled on a stunned man standing over a puddle of a woman at his feet. “Did you hear her head hit?”

Everyone should have heard the sound. A nearby waiter stopped to look in the couple’s direction, but Becky, the staff member, was surrounded by a small group of chatty passengers oblivious to the accident.

Sharla had already changed trajectory when the man leaned over, arms outstretched, obviously about to move his wife away from the bottom of the stairs.

“No!” Sharla screamed loud enough for the man to hear and to pierce a few eardrums as well. Letting go of Luke’s arm, she bolted over a stool and around the meandering passengers, landing at the older woman’s side before her husband could touch her. “You don’t want to move her.”

Luke’s instincts had been the same as Sharla’s. He’d practically sailed across the room after her, when the guy had tried to move his wife. Luke might not be a medic or trauma nurse, but even he knew the risks of moving an injured person.

Bending down, Sharla did a quick assessment and hollered across to Becky, “She’s out cold. Call the doctor.” Then she placed one hand on the woman’s chest while she checked for a pulse with the other.

The woman’s husband stood paralyzed, watching Sharla examine his wife.

“She’s breathing fine and the pulse, although weak and thready, is palpable.” Glancing up at the woman’s husband, she asked, ““Does your wife have a history of falling?”

He shook his head.

“Dizzy spells?”

Another head shake. “No. Nothing. Her doctor says she’s as healthy as a woman ten years younger.”

“That’s a good thing.” Sharla smiled again. Within seconds the woman began to stir. “Don’t move,” Sharla practically cooed. When the woman’s eyes shot open wide, Sharla cupped her cheek with one hand, casually keeping her head from moving, and turned to Becky shouting orders like a drill sergeant. “Make sure the medical team brings a backboard and a neck stabilizer.”

Immediately her voice reverted to a soft soothing tone. “You’ve had a little fall. Does it hurt anywhere?”

The woman closed her eyes and barely shook her head.

“That’s good. What’s your name?”

The husband, still frozen in place, opened his mouth to answer, but Luke held up his hand, shaking his head. He knew Sharla was checking for a head injury and needed the wife to respond, not her husband.

Opening her eyes, the woman softly answered, “Agnes.”

Sharla looked to Agnes’ husband, her relief showing when he nodded. “Nice to meet you, Agnes. Do you know where you are?”

“Ship,” she mumbled.

“That’s right.” Reaching for both of Agnes’ hands, she commanded, “I need you to squeeze as hard as you can.”

When the woman did as instructed, Sharla asked the surrounding crowd if anyone had a smart phone. Accepting one of the three quickly proffered phones, she turned on the flashlight. After checking the woman’s eyes, one at a time, Sharla glanced up at the husband, still as pale as her patient. “Her grip is good, and her pupils react equally. The ship’s doctor will take her down to the treatment room, and check for fractures and internal injuries, but I don’t think she’s been hurt too badly. They’ll probably want to observe her overnight to be sure.” She stood and patted his back. “She’ll be in good hands.”

The woman smiled at Sharla and lifted her hand.

Sharla crouched back down and clasped it between both of hers. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

The woman’s eyelids fell shut just as the doctor arrived and knelt at her side.

After pulling out his stethoscope from the black bag he’d brought, he listened to her heartbeat for a few seconds before looking to Sharla. “What happened?”

“She slipped down the stairs. Hit her head pretty hard and was out for at least two or three minutes. Her pulse was weak and thready, but it’s stronger now.”

“And she’s coherent?” he asked.

“Yes. Knows her name and where she is. Pupils react, and her grip is strong. Didn’t have a chance to do much else.”

No longer needed, Luke stepped away from the huddle.

Sharla remained in place, allowing the staff to do their thing. At one point, not pleased with something, she nudged aside the crew member and placed the neck brace on the patient herself. Once Agnes was on the gurney to Sharla’s satisfaction, she smiled at the doctor and took a step back.

Agnes lifted up her hand again. Sharla leaned over, and a bright smile took over her face before she nodded and stepped completely out of the way.

“What did she say?” Luke sidled up beside her, his hands on her arms.

He was so damn proud of her, anyone would think she’d saved a battalion of men.