Shell Game (17 page)

She looked at Luke and repeated
in twenty minutes
for his benefit.

He nodded, smiled that grin that was ever so slow to appear and way too potent to resist, and closed the bathroom door behind him.

“See you in twenty, Nana.”

Sharla didn’t know what the hell she’d gotten herself into. And she had no idea if she needed to thank her grandmother or shoot her. Everything she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t do, she’d done. Like,
never again would she take a chance on a man with a dangerous job. Someone who put their life on the line every day
. And, if she’d had any delusion that Luke’s work was a glorified desk job, her recent discovery of the wound on his side was enough to dispel that fantasy. Yet she could no more have walked away from him last night than she could have stopped breathing.

Making love with Luke had surpassed anything she’d expected when she’d given in to the desire she’d fought since the first time she’d laid eyes on him. Now every scrap of common sense she had told her to steer clear. Not to let her heart get more involved. Except every nerve ending she possessed screamed for her to spend every breathing moment of this trip entangled in his embrace. Lost in the taste of him. The feel of him. Indulging in the most pleasure she’d ever known.

Oh, how she wanted to stay in his arms, bathed in that smile, listening to the sound of his voice hovering by her ear. But even if she gave in to the longing already burning inside her, she had a terrible feeling that the rest of the cruise in Luke’s arms wouldn’t be nearly long enough.

Chapter Seventeen

“I’m sure this is a typical land fraud deal.” Sophia speared a cantaloupe cube. “There are any number of ways he can run it, but my suspicion is the money is going to a bank account in the Caymans, and neither he nor anybody else buys an acre of property.”

“You’re probably right.” Luke leaned closer over the table. He hadn’t had time to share what he knew with Herbie last night or what Kate had texted him this morning. “My contact at my office says the land known as Miracle Bend is marshland owned and run by the Department of Agriculture. There actually are local government officials who want to sell the land. They’ve greased a lot of palms under the table and have come damn close to pulling it off except for the surfers.”

“The what?” Sharla asked.

“Surfers. They want to keep the waves pristine and natural. Distressed over the impending sale, one of them somehow came up with docs from an agreement with the township and the US government making the area a permanent wetland. Since the initial uproar, the Sierra Club and a long list of folks with lots of clout have gotten on the bandwagon. There is no way, no how, that this guy can sell you a single grain of sand from that acreage.”

“That’s what we suspected.” Herbie set down his coffee cup and looked from Sharla to Luke to Sophia. “Sophia and I have had a bit of a disagreement over how to go about this.”

“A bit,” she clipped.

Herbie cut her a censuring glare filled with a heavy dose of love, and Luke found himself envying the connection the two older people had developed in such a short amount of time. “Okay, we don’t agree at all. But since this is my brother-in-law and my problem, we’re going to do it my way. By the book.”

Sophia rolled her eyes, blew out a sigh and grudgingly nodded.

Herbie kept his eye on her without saying a word until she repeated, “By the book.”

“Let’s get the skinny on this deal and catch the bastard.” He dipped his chin at Sophia then Sharla. “Sorry for that, ladies.”

“I’ve heard worse,” Sophia answered at the same time Sharla said, “No problem.”

“Then we’re good to go?” Herbie asked.

All heads nodded in agreement. Herbie had a look of doubt that Luke suspected came from fear of what Sophia might pull out of her hat. Honestly Luke couldn’t blame him. That lady was something else. But he was more concerned about the lost look on Sharla’s face. They hadn’t had time to discuss any of last night’s surprises. Not making love, not his job and not her family’s unique business history. Though, based on Sophia’s brief explanation, he’d figured out Sharla was unlikely to have that much connection to the larcenous tendencies. It was no wonder she was less than sure of the whole plan. Not that what they had could be called a plan.

This was certainly not the navy’s way of doing reconnaissance. It wasn’t like SEALs to go in and just
see what happens
. He was used to having a crapload of intel and data before taking his men on a mission. But if he were going to be honest, even though this escapade was not the same as taking down terrorists, adrenaline was adrenaline, and bad guys were bad guys. Catching George Bailey at his own game was definitely going to be fun.

* * *

San Juan was a beautiful island. The ship docked in the old part of the city, affording the passengers an easy walk around the block to the narrow cobblestoned streets in search of restaurants and souvenirs.

“I hired a driver and a van.” George stood by the yellow minivan cab. “It’s a short drive out of town.”

The drive was indeed not very long. They’d gone by crowded commercial areas and fashionable modern shopping malls.

But it was the pristine white beaches where the turtles nested that caught Sharla’s eyes. “This is gorgeous.”

“Yes.” George beamed.

The driver pulled around to an open bay. Herbie was first out of the van, and he held his hand out for Gloria, then Nana. Luke exited next and did the same for Sharla.

When his fingers threaded with hers and didn’t let go, she did her best to block the memories of last night. Slipping off her sandals, she followed the others onto the barren beach. In the distance to one side, a small mass of land jetted out with a blur of buildings perched atop.

“That’s the Miramar Resorts and Hacienda. Built in 1985, it’s the only resort within miles.” George spun about to the other side of the road. “Farther that way toward the rain forest, there’s a development of condos.”

Sharla squinted into the sun. But there was nothing for her to see.

“And over here”—he faced away from the Miramar to a vast expanse of wavy grass with the occasional scattering of a cow or two—“this will be the spot.” George rambled on about the land, the development, the plans, the cottages, the clubhouses.

Sharla didn’t hear a word. All she could see was the pristine beauty of the area around her and the man still holding her hand.

“No wonder even the surfers care,” she whispered to Luke.

He squeezed her hand. “It’s nice to know this won’t be covered with buildings and people by honest developers either.”

While George and Gloria stood talking and gesturing with Herbie and her grandmother, Luke and Sharla veered off down the beach, walking along the water’s edge.

“I love the ocean.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Nearly alone on this beach, she didn’t trust herself not to do or say something stupid.

“That’s why you live in Miami.”

“It’s why I moved there, but I never make the time to go to the water. I guess it’s a lot like native New Yorkers. No one actually goes to the Empire State Building or Times Square unless family comes for a visit.”

“Makes sense.”

They walked a few more feet, their pace slow, for here and now, everything felt good and comfortable. And right. She stole a glance in his direction. His gaze lingered on a distant point in the horizon. Where had he gone? What was he thinking? Did sleeping with the man give her the right to know? And she wanted to know so many things about him. “Do you like living in Virginia?”

“It’s just a house. Home is New York.”

“Do you miss it?”

He flashed a half smile at her that did all sorts of tingly things to her insides.

“Not so much the city, but my family. My mom and dad still live in the same house I grew up in. Our rooms haven’t changed. My sisters’ rooms are as pink and girly as they were when they were giddy teens. Same thing with my brother’s and my room. Nothing’s changed. My baseball and track trophies are where they’ve always been on the bookcase. Pennants from the Yankees cover one wall, and even my senior prom picture is proudly displayed.”

His words brought a smile to her face. In only a few sentences she had a complete picture of who he’d been long ago. “Bet you looked good in a tux even then.”

He tugged at his ear with his free hand and scrunched one side of his face. “I wouldn’t take any bets on that if I were you. I don’t think any seventeen-year-old boy looks good in a cummerbund.”

“You may have a point. So all your siblings are still in New York?”

“My sisters are. Mary, the oldest, is married with three kids. My middle sister, Abigail, much to my mother’s chagrin, is still single. My brother, Steven, is in Florida.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He flashed that big smile. “Really. In Fort Lauderdale.”

“Anyone in your family ever think about moving closer to your brother?”
Good grief
. Could she sound any pushier? She might as well have come right out and asked if he’d move to Florida for her.
Oh, God
. Why was she even letting her mind go there? “I mean—”

“Yeah. A lot actually.” He drew to a stop and pinned her with a gaze so hot she was surprised not to have melted on the spot, “Especially lately.”

“Yoo-hoo.” Sophia jogged toward them, her grin as broad as the promenade aboard ship. “We’re done visiting. George just happened to get a call from accounting as we stood there, and—surprise, surprise—there’s room for two more investors. And here’s the shocker. We have to move fast, or it will go to someone else.”

Gathering her wits Sharla shifted gears, leaving worries about what to make of her new situation with Luke and concentrating on this mess her grandmother was getting into. “So now what?”

“We have lunch, go back to the ship and form a new plan.”

* * *

“I’m telling you, we just have to run a con of our own. We can get this creep to cough up your brother-in-law’s money.” Sophia dropped onto the side of her bed. “There are at least a half-dozen cons we can pull off with only four people and a little ingenuity.”

“No.” Herbie sat down beside her. “You’re not Robin Hood.”

“Something simple. A shell game. Now you see it. Now you don’t.”

“No,” Herbie repeated.

Luke was staying out of the debate for now. He may not know how to run a confidence game, but he knew enough about working undercover and under the radar to know anything Sophia might have in mind would, at best, not be easy and, at worst, be downright deadly. Knowing it had been decades since Sophia had been involved in a real con meant preparing for the worst. But it was thoughts of Sharla caught up in the scheme that had his gut churning and his mind scrambling.

“We don’t even know how many other people are involved,” Herbie protested.

That seemed to give Sophia pause.

“For all we know”—Herbie grabbed Sophia’s hand in his—“he could be a front man for the mob. And we don’t need to run a con on the mob. Trust me on that.”

Damn, Luke wished his instincts weren’t screaming FUBAR in the making.

“I’ll admit”—Sophia covered their joined hands with her free hand—“he’s not sharp enough to be running this on his own.”

“These building plans don’t look like anything drawn up on a do-it-yourself software program.” Sharla sifted through the presentation packet George had left with Herbie and her grandmother. “Someone spent some money to have these designs made and then this portfolio put together. I’m with Herbie. He doesn’t strike me as having this much skill.”

“Agreed.” Sophia pushed to her feet. “He’s the charmer. The face. Someone else is the brains. Right now he’s sitting back, thrilled that his game worked. Because it is a game to him. He played hard-to-get until he had us begging to give him our money. The adrenaline rush every grifter craves. No need to ask for money, the mark literally throws it at you. Whatever we do, we’ll catch him by surprise. He thinks we’re another couple of easy-to-snow senior citizens.”

Sharla set the portfolio down on the table. “Can’t we just show this to the police and let them take it from here? I’m sure if I called Tyler, he could get the right people involved.”

“Any law enforcement agency—and DA—is going to want more than our word that he’s a crook.” Herbie reached for Sophia’s hand and tugged her back to the space next to him.

Sharla pointed to the papers on the table. “We have these designs, and we know who actually owns the land.”

Herbie shook his head. “Not a single thing in those papers shows the legal description of the land they tried to sell us today. We have nothing to give the authorities.”

Luke already knew what needed to happen, and, no matter how Herbie chose to proceed, Luke would make sure Sharla stayed as far away from this caper as he could keep her. “So what do you propose?”

“We play along. Agree to his deal. Make him as comfortable as a pig in a sty. When we exchange the cash for whatever phony documentation he provides with legal property descriptions and the sham corporation info, we’ll have the evidence, and the authorities will have caught him red-handed.”

Sophia eyed Herbie skeptically. “What authorities?”