Show Me the Money

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Show Me the Money Page 22

by Connie Shelton


  Woody took his son’s arm and steered him toward the stairs that led upward. “You don’t want to be rude to our guest, son. We can go phone shopping on the way to the motel or after dinner.”

  The woman put on a look of concern. “Plus, you’ve already had a few drinks, Cody. You’d have to drive quite a way to the Apple store, and I’ll tell you, the cops are not at all lenient when it comes to DUI around here. Have you heard of tent city?”

  Woody knew by Cody’s reaction that he had. “It’s a place where they make you sleep in tents, no matter how hot or cold it is outside, and they say it involves doing hard labor.”

  Grace nodded. “That’s right. And, the prisoners have to wear pink, like pink boxers. Pretty humiliating, as well as being uncomfortable.”

  Woody chuckled at the image of his know-it-all son out in a tent in pink boxers.

  Apparently that was enough to make Cody change his mind. He grudgingly walked up the stairs with them. Woody pointed out a table right at the windows where they could watch the races and hear the announcements easily.

  “Here we go. Let’s get some snacks.” He summoned over a waitress, a past-the-prime woman in black jeans and a Turf Paradise logo shirt. After ordering margaritas, nachos, and three kinds of wings, he turned back to Grace.

  “Now, let’s have some fun with our bets,” he said. “Here’s one I play all the time. It’s not described on your form, but the idea is to pick …”

  He scooted his chair over closer to hers and sketched a diagram on a napkin. It involved a complicated way of choosing four horses that would finish the race in a certain sequence and each needed to beat its own best record time. The whole setup was total bull, of course.

  “The beauty of it is, hardly anyone knows about this system of mine,” he told her, “so nobody is picking your same horses. The jackpot comes in and it’s all yours. I’ve made big bucks with this, over the years.”

  “Really? It sounds super difficult,” Grace said.

  “It is. That’s why it pays off so good.”

  “Well, how do you …?”

  “Place the bets? Don’t worry about that part. I’ll take your money and mine—Cody, you in?”

  Cody reached into his shorts pocket and pulled out two twenties.

  “Aw, that ain’t much,” Woody said.

  Cody pulled out three more.

  “Okay, so here’s what I’ll do—”

  The waitress was back with a tray loaded with plastic baskets full of food and a big pitcher of margaritas. “I didn’t have space for your glasses,” she said. “Be right back.”

  Woody continued where he left off. “I’ll go down to the betting window and get all our bets placed. I studied the form last night, and the best race for this move is not the next one up but the one after that. I’ll get it all set up,” he said to Grace. “You don’t have to worry about anything.”

  She handed him forty dollars, and he couldn’t manage to get any more out of her.

  “If this pays as great as you say, I’ll definitely bet more next time,” she said.

  “You watch, baby. It’s amazing.” He stood. “You two get started on the food and drinks. I’ll be right back.”

  On the concourse level he glanced around. Of course there was no bet to be made. He picked up three discarded tickets from the floor, scuffed them up enough that the race number was no longer readable, and stuck them in his pocket. A quick visit to the men’s room and he was ready for food and the second half of the con. He would hand Cody’s hundred and Grace’s own forty back to her. Maybe sweeten the pot a little with some of his own winnings, so she would bet it all on the last race of the day. Then he’d claim that one didn’t win, and he’d pocket everything.

  When he got back to the table the woman was gone. He glanced around, a little frantically.

  “Where’d she go?” he asked Cody.

  A shrug. “Said she was going to the bathroom.”

  “Downstairs?”

  “How should I know? I think she just went to the one over there.” Cody indicated the back of the turf club.

  Just then Grace came walking out, right where Cody had said she would be. Woody breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was going to work out just fine.

  Chapter 74

  Amber picked up the phone the instant she saw it was Gracie.

  “I can’t talk long,” came Gracie’s voice in a whisper. “I’m in the restroom. Cody says he’s going to buy a new phone this afternoon. I tried to scare him out of driving too far, you know, stories about tent city and all that. But he’s genuinely in a panic over not having his phone. He’s going to take the risk of driving, find the closest Apple store, and get a new one.”

  “Hang on, I’m looking them up now,” Amber said. “Rats—there are at least a dozen stores. I don’t know how well he knows the city. I suppose he could keep driving around a lot.”

  “Or not. He’ll just ask someone where the nearest one is. Is there any way the transfers will be done by, say, seven o’clock tonight?”

  “No way. I’ve been checking them all day, and Sandy has access from the bank. I think one of the smaller ones is all that’s gone through.”

  “Okay, so now what?”

  “I guess we have to figure out a way to get all the Apple stores in the valley to close early.”

  “Amber … how are you going to do that?”

  “Not sure. But you just keep them busy. I’ll figure out something. Have you seen Mary out there?”

  “Huh-uh. We talked early this morning and decided I’d take today’s shift and she’ll hang around them tomorrow. Look, I’d better go. I’ve set my phone on silent mode but I’ll sneak a peek at it now and then if you want to send me a text.”

  Amber hung up, wondering exactly how she was supposed to convince a dozen different stores that they needed to close early. Or convince them not to sell a new phone to one Cody Baker. It just wasn’t going to happen.

  Then her gaze fell on Cody’s phone, sitting there benignly on her desk. What if …

  She picked it up.

  It came as no surprise to discover the phone was locked and password protected. When her own face didn’t pass the facial recognition test, and swiping upward on the screen only brought up a demand for a passcode, she noticed something she previously had never paid much attention to. A phone will allow an emergency 911 call without the delay of waiting to be unlocked.

  She wrote down what she intended to say. When she had the words right she picked up the phone again and hit the Emergency Call button.

  “911—What’s your emergency?”

  The message needed to be delivered monotone, as robotic as she could make her voice sound. That meant no stammering around for words. She read the message she had written out. “I have it on good authority that one of the Apple computer and phone stores in the state of Arizona will be the victim of a bombing sometime in the next fifty-one hours. I cannot say which store or an exact time when this will happen. I suggest the police contact the store managers and have them evacuate every store and close it.”

  “Please stay on the line while I notify the police.”

  But Amber had hung up. Her heart was pounding and she felt a little faint. She’d probably just committed a felony worthy of federal, state, and local attention. The cops were likely to track the phone and come pounding on her door at any second. She dropped it on her desk and tried to think logically.

  “Okay, first thing, I have to get my prints off this thing. Second thing, I gotta get it out of this building.”

  The plant only bloomed encouragingly.

  Amber grabbed her messenger bag and a container of Clorox wipes. Then she dashed for the door. Riding the elevator to the garage level, she wiped every centimeter of the phone until it gleamed. She glanced around the parking garage. No cops. This was good.

  She eyed the dumpster. No, no, no. Couldn’t have the phone anywhere near her residence.

  She got in her Prius, thinking fran
tically. Where could she dump it? The Ladies had originally planned to only hold onto Cody’s phone until the bank transfers were completed, then figure out a way to return it to him so he would only think he’d misplaced it.

  But maybe there was a way to do that and achieve justice. A smile crossed her face as she pulled onto Goldwater Boulevard and headed toward downtown Phoenix.

  Chapter 75

  Gracie put on a smile, but she was growing a little weary of being Woody and Cody’s babysitter. The younger Baker was bored and grumpy, chafing to get the car keys from his dad so he could get out and replace his missing phone. Apparently the fear of a DUI on his record only went so far. He’d cut way back on his drinks and consumed a big share of the snack food, so he might pass a test anyway.

  On this side of the table, the old man was blatantly out to scam her. Plus, he kept finding little ways of brushing up against her thigh and she was ready to smack him.

  “Here’s the payout from that play we made,” Woody said after returning from downstairs again.

  He fanned out a stack of twenties and gave Gracie and Cody each a share. Some kind of a look passed between the two men. Obviously, both were in on it. But Gracie had to pretend to be super impressed.

  “Oh, wow, Woody. This is amazing!”

  “I tell ya, this system works at least ninety-five percent of the time.” He pocketed his ‘share’ and reached for the last of the hot wings. “I’m doing it again in the last race of the day. Who’s in it with me?”

  Cody shoved his winnings across to his father and pulled out his wallet. “Me, for sure. Bet it all. Gotta love these kinds of results.”

  Woody turned to Gracie. “You too?”

  “Hmm … I’m not sure.” She’d slid two twenties from her stack—all of her original bet—and slipped them into her pocket while he was devouring his wing. “Well, okay,” she said. “Bet it all. This is fun!”

  They whiled away the next hour, until it was nearly time for the final race of the day. Woody went downstairs to place their bets. Gracie brought out her phone, saying she was checking with her babysitter. There was one text from Amber: Watch the news.

  Gracie flipped over to her news app and spotted the headline right away. Terrorist attack on major computer maker? She clicked the video and a newscaster began talking.

  “Uh-oh,” she said.

  Cody perked up. “What’s going on?”

  “Looks like they’ve shut down all the Apple stores in the state. Sounds like someone phoned in a bomb threat.”

  “What!” He reached out and she let him take her phone and listen to the newscast.

  Details were sketchy, but the journalists were happy to provide a lot of speculation as to what this might mean, how deep the terror threat might go, was the gigantic company the only one being targeted, and why only in Arizona?

  Oh my god, Amber, what have you done?

  Cody looked like he wanted to throw something, so Gracie gently took back her phone. He stomped over to the bar and ordered a Scotch—double.

  Woody came back to the table and suggested they watch the final race from the trackside rail. “It’s so much more exciting down there. You can feel the ground vibrating, hear the horses breathing.” He slipped an arm around her shoulder when she stood up.

  “Ooh, Woody, that does sound like fun,” Gracie said. Gag me.

  The two of them walked down multiple sets of concrete steps until they were on the level with the dirt track. Cody had stayed behind, but Gracie was pretty sure Woody still held the car keys. Conveniently, he never did mention which horses they wanted to cheer for, but he did a credible acting job when he delivered the news that theirs didn’t win.

  “Well, I need to get going,” Gracie said after a show of disappointment. “Say goodbye to your son for me. It’s been a very informative day.”

  Before he could come up with a reason for her to stick with them—heaven forbid it should involve dinner—she scurried out the exit and checked back to be sure he hadn’t followed. She attached herself to a large group that was headed toward a tour bus, dodging when they rounded out of sight and tucking herself into the back of her minivan.

  An informative day. No kidding. She got out her phone and texted Amber. WTH? Do we need to talk?

  Chapter 76

  FedEx drivers were such nice people. Amber smiled as she headed her Prius back toward home. Imagine anyone else who would let you put an unidentified package into his hands, plead being in a huge hurry, and then they run an errand for you where you didn’t want your face to be seen.

  It was the first thing that came into her mind as she approached the entrance to Blackwell-Gorse. Her original plan was to pretend to discover a phone lying on the ground near the door, take it to the security desk, and turn it in as lost. But one of the security guards might remember her.

  And, Cody might know he hadn’t lost the phone right here, at his old workplace. Then again, by the time this whole thing was over, the Heist Ladies would have messed with his head so much he might not actually be certain.

  But when she spotted the FedEx driver parked at the curb, his arms full of packages as he headed toward the building, she acted on a plan even more brilliant. Good thing she hadn’t cleaned out the car last night, after all. An unused bubble-lined mailer bag provided the perfect solution. Using one of the sterile wipes she picked up the phone and slipped it inside, leaving the bag top unsealed.

  A dash to the front door, holding it open for the driver. “This was lying on the ground right here,” she said. “I think maybe you dropped it.”

  By the time he discovered it was unsealed and unaddressed, she was long gone. Most likely the bag ended up at the security desk.

  Now, all she had to do was make sure the bank transfers continued to move along as they should. She went immediately to her computer when she reached home. Three more of the transactions were showing as completed. She was about to call Sandy to see if there was anything further she could learn, when her phone rang. It was Gracie.

  “Hey, lady, how was your day?”

  “I can’t wait to get home and have a shower,” Gracie said. “Woody’s middle name should be grabby-hands. I’m weary of dodging him. I followed them to a Mexican restaurant where they seem pretty well settled in. As soon as Mary gets here, I’m heading home.”

  “At least I think we foiled Cody’s idea of heading out to buy a new phone right away. I even heard other stores are pulling those products until this whole bomb scare goes away.”

  “Speaking of which, what did you do?”

  “Do? I have no idea what you mean.” She adopted an innocent Southern accent, teasing.

  Amber had turned her personal computer on to a news channel and was watching the headlines scroll across the screen. It seemed the police were involved and the investigation was moving quickly.

  “Oh, here’s Mary. I’m turning over surveillance and intercept duties to her.”

  “Good. Well, enjoy your shower and an evening at home with the family.”

  “I wish. There’s a football game at Dylan’s school and I just remembered I’m the mom picking him up afterward, along with a bunch of his fourteen-year-old buddies.”

  Amber wished her luck, but her attention was now fully on the newscast.

  “Police are on the scene at the computer store on North Street, thought to be the central target of the threat. An unnamed suspect is being sought for questioning after authorities tracked the phone number from which the threatening call was made. Channel 3 News has it on good authority that the suspect is a twenty-nine year old male who may have only moved to the city recently, and it is believed he may work in this downtown office building where the phone has been tracked.”

  Amber recognized the Blackwell-Gorse Tech building, surrounded now by yellow tape and guys in black SWAT gear stomping around. Wow. These guys took bomb threats pretty seriously.

  Chapter 77

  Cody was tired and bored. Pop’s idea of a great time wa
sn’t at all where he wanted to be right now. They’d chosen Mexican food for dinner, but Pop complained that the chili was too hot and he barely ate anything. But instead of simply going back to their room, now he’d insisted they check out this bar he’d noticed on their way to the Mexican place.

  It was one of those where country music blared from the sound system, which made Cody’s headache all that much worse. The two of them had taken seats at the bar. While Pop ordered a whiskey, all Cody could stomach was a soda. He nursed it to keep pace, hoping they could leave after one drink.

  A TV set above the bar was tuned to football, so he entertained himself by watching the people. Two couples were keeping lively time with the music, over on the small dance floor. Most of those at the bar itself looked like working class guys who’d been home for dinner and then made an excuse to get out with the guys. Their wives were probably happy they chose to watch the game away from home.

  A few small tables lined the room and that’s where the business types were, including one woman on her own. With her gray hair in some kind of feathery style and her tailored dress and jacket it seemed more likely she’d be at one of those high-end watering holes or something, but how would he know? Maybe she had a husband who’d invited his buddies to their house and she just needed to get out. He was surprised Woody hadn’t latched onto her as a potential mark. But maybe Pop had already got his fill of betting for today.

  He hoped so. He didn’t want this evening to stretch on any longer. In fact, he was about ready for the whole visit to be done. His normal evening was spent locked away in his bedroom where his current project was to devise a new fantasy role-playing game. He’d recently connected with a guy who knew a guy, and Cody was hoping to get the beta version of the software ready to show. If what his new buddy said was true, some of the big players in online gaming were looking for exactly what he was developing—right genre at the right time.

 

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