Hustle

by Claire Chilton

  ‘Sit down, and let me work my magic.’ He pointed to the chair in front of the sink.

  She sat in the plastic chair and leaned her head back over the sink. ‘You better not make my hair pink.’

  He lifted the shower head and soaked her hair. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. If I mess it up, it’ll go green.’ He flashed a wicked grin.

  ‘Green will be the last thing you see if you do.’ She sighed, resting her head against the hard porcelain rim of the basin. It had to be done. It wasn’t the first time she’d dyed her hair for a job, but she preferred wigs. They were easier to change in an instant. Dye seemed a bit too permanent.

  She closed her eyes as the warm water rushed over her scalp. This new life is going to be permanent, too. I might as well get used to the idea of that now, new hair for a new Ellie.

  After an hour of washing, waiting and drying, she peered at her new look in the mirror. Her ebony hair had been lightened to chestnut brown with blonde highlights speckled through it. Okay, it isn’t so bad. She didn’t look as dramatic as before, but at least it matched her hazel eyes. ‘Hey, my eyes look greener with this hair colour.’ She called out after she’d put down the hair dryer.

  ‘Good. We’ll change your eye colour to green then,’ Jimmy called from the adjoining room. He was working on their passports. She stepped out of the bathroom to find him hunched over his laptop.

  He’d made himself at home in the loft with wall-to-wall electronic devices. ‘Dude, you have gotta get out more,’ she said while staring at the three monitors he had hooked up to his laptop.

  ‘If getting out more involves ending up on the front page of the newspaper for “high society vandalism,” I’ll skip it, thank you very much,’ he muttered while typing away on what looked like a command prompt that was displayed on his screen.

  ‘You know there are things out in the world that are more exciting than that, don’t you?’ She pointed to the black screen. ‘Culture, life, treasure, a girlfriend.’

  He spun around in his seat and glared at her. ‘You know that I have a girlfriend, right?’

  ‘The one from that game? She could be a forty-year-old dude.’

  ‘Cheryl is a twenty-two-year-old woman from Florida, not a dude.’ His cheeks flushed with indignation.

  ‘Great, I look forward to meeting her when we’re in Florida.’

  ‘I know what game you’re playing, so don’t even try it.’ He turned back to his screen and pulled up a new window on his computer before starting typing.

  ‘Hey, if you’re too chicken to meet the girl of your dreams, it’s not my problem.’ Ellie shrugged. She was playing him, but the guy really needed to go out on a real date. He was the little brother she’d never had, and it was about time he got out in the world, rather than hide behind a computer screen.

  ‘You’re starting to get on my last nerve,’ he said.

  ‘You’re scared to meet women,’ she countered. ‘Online relationships don’t last, but hey, maybe Cheryl isn’t worth it, huh?’

  He paused in his typing and glanced back over his shoulder. ‘Do you really think she’ll like me in real life?’

  ‘She likes you now, doesn’t she?’

  ‘Dammit, Ellie, you always get me caught up in your stupid fantasies.’ He shook his head.

  ‘So, you’re going to meet her?’ She grinned.

  ‘Yes. But only so you’ll shut up about it, and when it turns into a disaster, I’ll know who to blame.’

  ‘The only thing you can blame in that situation is your mouth.’ She wandered over and ruffled his hair. ‘Hey, does that mean I get to dye your hair and dress you up, so you look like a date and not a fashion disaster?’

  He brushed her off. ‘No, it doesn’t. I’m not on the run, and I would never let you near a man’s wardrobe. Last time you dressed me up for one of your jobs, you made me into frumpy security guard with a receding hairline!’

  She chuckled. It was a fair point. She was the last person in the universe who should be giving makeovers. She used them for disguise, not to appear aesthetically pleasing.

  She smiled as a burst of optimism about the future filled her with warmth and hope. This journey was going to be an adventure. The idea of leaving the grim, grey skies of England behind and jetting off to the sunny isles of the Caribbean to hunt treasure was exciting. Everything she really cared about was coming with her. She had her father’s research, the map, and her best friend. What could possibly go wrong?

  Chapter Four

  Ellie forced herself not to fidget as she stood in line for the security check at Manchester Airport. She watched Jimmy put his laptop on the conveyer belt in front of her. The only worry he displayed was concern over what the X-ray machine would do to his precious baby, but then, Jimmy wasn’t currently wanted by the police.

  Even with her hair lightened to a soft chestnut with blonde highlights and the quick spray tan she’d given herself, she worried that she would be recognised

  Just chill. It’ll be fine. You know people only see what they want to.

  She glanced down at her passport. It was the first one she’d owned with her real name in it. It was a fake—Jimmy had taken the new photo after her transformation—but she was using her real name for once. The name ‘Ellie Phillips’ had never been connected with any illegal activity. Since what she was about to do wasn’t a crime, it was the safest name to use. It was only her face that could be a problem. She was looking forward to getting through security, so she could put her sunglasses back on.

  Her pulse raced as Jimmy stepped through the metal detector. Once he got through security without a hitch and collected his things, he shot a glance back at her. She glimpsed a note of worry in his eyes. Great, we both think I’m screwed.

  She dropped her holdall onto the conveyer without glancing at it. Then she walked to the metal detector. Under the gaze of airport security, she hurried through the frame, feeling like an animal at the zoo. She had no concerns about the metal detector, but the scrutiny was making her insides curl up. What if they recognise me?

  It took her a few seconds to realise the metal detector was bleeping. What the hell? She had been careful to avoid wearing anything metal because she wanted to get through security as quickly as possible. I didn’t even put on earrings!

  A male security guard pointed her towards a female colleague. He seemed bored. Ellie was mildly relieved.

  ‘Lift your arms, please.’ Ellie lifted her arms as the woman swept a metal-detecting wand over her body. It crackled near her left boob. She peered down at the tiny pocket in her checked shirt.

  ‘Could you empty that pocket, please.’

  Ellie frowned and pulled a pack of chewing gum out of her breast pocket, offering it to the woman.

  The woman shook her head. ‘Open it.’

  ‘Are you kidding? It’s chewing gum.’

  The woman remained resolute and silent, glaring at her.

  ‘Okay then.’ Ellie pulled out the sticks of gum, and then unwrapped the foil wrappers around them. She showed the woman a handful of Juicy Fruit.

  The woman nodded. ‘Okay, that’s fine.’

  ‘I can go?’

  The woman scowled at her.

  Ellie took that as a ‘yes’ and hurried towards her bag, which had already passed through the X-ray machine. Jesus, nearly caught because of some gum, what else is going to happen? She stuffed the gum into the first trashcan she passed.

  She walked towards passport control, noticing Jimmy hovering on the other side of the checkout desk. He was shifting from one foot to the other with a look of concern on his face. Not surprising really, since he was outside of the UK, and she was still inside it.

  She was a bit worried herself. This was the moment of truth. Would she be recognised when someone was studying her face? The man behind the counter looked mean, certainly not someone she’d want to mess with. She dropped her passport and ticket on the desk, offering him a polite smile. He picked up the passport and barely gave it a gl
ance before waving her through.

  She grabbed the documents and hurried over to Jimmy, breathing a sigh as she stepped into the terminal. We did it. I’m out of the UK in one piece.

  ‘Let’s get to the gate.’ Jimmy hurriedly guided her through the food court.

  ‘What’s the rush? We don’t fly for another hour.’

  He shot her a dark look. ‘Better safe than sorry.’

  ‘Cheer up. We’re on our way to Florida!’ She grinned at him, the rush of relief and adrenaline fuelling a burst of optimism inside her.

  ‘Yeah, but this was the easy part,’ he muttered.

  * * *

  Jacob Hawkins stared down at the prepaid phone in his hands. Who is Jemma Jenkins? He had his best security team hunting her down, but even his most adept staff couldn’t find any trace of her. She was a ghost. A ghost who’d snuck into his world and evaporated out of it, taking his future with her.

  He flipped open the dossier waiting on his desk, narrowing his eyes at the photograph on the first page. She was pretty, with wide hazel eyes and long, dark hair. Her lips had a natural pout, which he was certain got her anything she wanted. She looked like any innocent girl. The file said she was twenty, but she looked even younger than that. I bet that helps her rip people off.

  He clenched the phone in his fist. The screen cracked. Jemma Jenkins was apparently a fake name. So was everything he had thought he knew about her. The only thing that was real was this picture. It matched his memory of her face.

  Why did she break the tablet?

  Jacob knew very little about the Incan tablet. What he did know was that it was his last link to his father. Douglas Hawkins had been the original ‘Hawk’. He had run the Hawkins Shipping empire, but he had also been a treasure hunter. That was before he disappeared.

  Jacob had been a boy when it happened. The last time he had heard from his father, the Hawk had been in Peru. The tablet was the last thing he had brought home.

  Jacob picked up a piece of the broken tablet. It could be restored, but there was clearly a machine-drilled hole in the fragment in his hand. The tablet had to be fake.

  My father knew enough to spot a fake. Why did he bring this home? Why did he guard it like a treasure?

  Jacob rubbed his finger along the smooth cavity inside it. He felt sick as he realised what had happened.

  She knew it was a fake. That’s why she broke it. She knew there was something inside it. That tablet had been his only hope of convincing the board to keep him on as CEO of Hawkins Shipping. The directors thought that he wasn’t serious about the company, that he spent too much time treasure hunting and not enough time focussing on the business. He had planned to donate the Incan tablet—his father’s final find—to Hawkins Shipping and make it the first piece in a new museum inside the corporate headquarters. He wanted to prove that honouring the connection between modern shipping and its romantic, swashbuckling past would be good for the company. He wanted to pay tribute to his father’s love of adventure while burnishing the image of the company Douglas Hawkins had built. Most of all, Jacob wanted the board to see that he could run the business and take the occasional treasure-hunting jaunt. His father had done it. Why couldn’t Jacob?

  He scowled. He was the Hawk now. And the Hawk would never let a slip of a girl in a party dress rob him. He needed to find this ‘Jemma’.

  His office door burst open and Bill rushed in. Out of breath and gasping, he held up his hand for a moment’s silence.

  ‘You seriously need to start doing some cardio,’ Jacob told the bulky security chief.

  ‘Had to run from the village,’ Bill gasped. ‘Got a lead. Not much time.’

  ‘What? Tell me.’

  Bill held up his hand again while slowly inhaling.

  Jacob impatiently tapped his fingers on the desk, wanting to shake the information out of Bill.

  ‘She’s not Jemma Jenkins.’

  ‘I know that.’ Jacob waved the cracked phone at him. ‘That’s not news.’

  ‘She’s called Ellie Phillips. An old lady in Bakerston saw her get into a car late last night. She said the woman was acting suspicious, so she took down the plates of the car. We traced her back to Manchester, and you’re not going to like it.’ Bill wiped his brow with his sleeve.

  ‘What aren’t I going to like?’

  ‘She’s Stewart Phillips’s daughter.’

  Jacob flopped back in his chair in silent shock, his pulse racing. Stewart Phillips had been in business with his father and was rumoured to have been responsible for his father going missing. Although nothing had ever been proven, a lot of people blamed his father’s disappearance on the hustler. ‘You’re telling me that this is a job by the Stewart Phillips?’

  ‘Well, that’s unlikely. He’s past tense these days.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Phillips died on the job a year ago. He was running a con and dropped dead of a heart attack in the middle of it. There’s no way he pulled this job.’

  ‘So who’s his daughter working for now?’ Jacob frowned. Having lost his father at an early age, he felt a moment of sympathy for this girl, but it quickly passed. She hadn’t looked too heartbroken when she was grinning at him through a taxi window and absconding with his future.

  ‘Joseph Meyer’s name came up, but word on the street is that he’s looking for her, too. I think she’s working on her own, following in her father’s footsteps.’ Bill handed over a file.

  ‘This is the last time a Phillips hurts this family.’ Jacob scowled as he flipped open the file and encountered her face again. This photograph was of her leaving an apartment with a geeky-looking kid. They were both carrying a luggage. ‘Where is she now?’

  ‘That’s the problem.’ Bill took the seat opposite Jacob’s desk. ‘She’s just skipped the country. They flew out of Manchester airport an hour ago. Our guys were tracking her, but they lost her at the airport check-in.’

  ‘Why didn’t they stop her before then?’ Jacob rubbed a hand across his brow. I’m only twenty-four. I shouldn’t have this much stress in my life.

  ‘They were just on surveillance duty.’

  ‘And who’s the guy she’s with?’

  ‘The guy is…’ Bill leaned over the desk and flipped open the file to a photograph of a blond-haired kid. ‘…Jimmy Carroll. He went off the grid after being arrested when he was eleven for hacking into a bank. He’s presumed dead, but he doesn’t look very dead to me.’

  Jacob peered at the file. ‘Jesus, he’s only seventeen. She’s working with kids? Did we at least find out where they were going?’

  Bill nodded. ‘Two flights booked consecutively. Both of them flying to Florida, and then the girl heading for Costa Rica on her own a day later. Carlo found out that she’s booked passage on a fishing trawler near Espadilla Beach to Cocos Island.’

  Jacob felt a smile growing on his face. He knew Cocos Island well. It was paradise for treasure hunters. Idiots, more like. He’d spent much of his childhood there, exploring the region with his father. She may not know it, but Ellie Phillips was heading straight into his world. She didn’t stand a chance.

  ‘Get the plane ready. I want to dock in Cocos before she does. Call the rangers and ask for a pass.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Bill nodded.

  ‘And Bill, pack a bag. You’re coming this time.’

  Bill turned and stared at him. ‘I am fucking not. You know I don’t fly.’

  ‘I need you on this one. I don’t know shit about hustlers. You used to be one. You’re coming with me. No arguments.’

  Bill looked as if he wanted to argue, but he shook his head instead. ‘You totally suck.’

  ‘It’ll be fun. You’ll get a tan on that pasty white skin of yours.’ Jacob grinned. Bill lived in his small local world. It was about time he embraced some global culture.

  ‘What, so I can be a pretty boy like you? No thanks. By the way, real men don’t wear shirts like that.’ Bill offered him a sweet smile before leaving the off
ice and stomping down the hall.

  Jacob peered down at the brown T-shirt he wore, which had a picture of Animal from the Muppets emblazoned across it. ‘Sure they do,’ he told himself warily.

  Chapter Five

  Ellie wiped her brow with her free hand as she steered the boat across the crystal waters surrounding English Bay on Cocos Island. She’d managed to pay her way on a fishing trawler from Costa Rica, and then rented their motor boat. They were due to pick her up in five hours.

  She checked her watch. It was midday. Only mad dogs and Englishmen. The sun burned her bare shoulders from the clear blue skies above. The blue-green water surrounding her looked so inviting that she was tempted to stop the boat for a moment to cool off. She was certain she’d sizzle when she plunged into the sea.

  She shook her head. This isn’t a pleasure trip. You’ll be in the water soon enough anyway. She glanced back at the diving gear she had tossed in the stern. I hope I remember how to use that stuff. You just have to clear your ears and come back up slowly, right?

  She turned to peer at the map that was pinned to the small windshield of the boat, and then squinted at the shoreline behind her. The craggy rocks matched the drawing on the map, but the angle was wrong. She slowed the boat and turned it, heading along the shoreline until what she saw on the shore matched the rough line drawn on the map.

  She stopped the boat and turned off the engine, staring at the symbols and numbers etched into the map. They didn’t always make sense to her, and she wasn’t an expert in nautical navigation, but Jimmy had used Google maps to plot a rough idea of the journey she would have to take. All she had to do was use her phone to find matching scenery nearby. After scanning the map and the coastline, then consulting her phone, she nodded. The craggy rocks that looked like a woman’s face were to her left, and the mountains rose above the trees on the island ahead of her. This must be it.

  She dropped anchor, glancing around for any sign of other boats. The sea was an untouched azure blanket. At this distance, she wouldn’t even be noticed from the shoreline—not that there was anyone there to notice her. The island was a national park, home to a few rangers.