Fast and Loose

by Fern Michaels

  “My brother lives and works here, and he warned me that Dix was a playboy, a love-’em-and-leave-’em kind of guy, but did I listen? Hell, no! Would you listen to your brother or to the man who professed undying love? Oh, God! Oh, God! What am I going to do? I love him so much. Maybe he’s sick or in the hospital. I need to check that.” Maggie reached for a wad of paper towels and blew her nose. More hard sobs followed as she remembered how she’d wrapped Daisy in a soft, fluffy pink towel. She started to shake then for real, the memory was so strong. “I don’t think I can live without him. I don’t want to live without him. Oh, God, what am I going to do?”

  The young woman, who said her name was Hana, wrapped Maggie in her arms and mouthed soothing words. Maggie had no idea what she was saying.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . . You’ve been very kind to someone you don’t even know. I need to clean up here and go back to . . . to my brother. He’s outside. He and a friend of his brought me here to cheer me up. My brother works at the casino where I’m staying. It’s free for me. It’s where . . . he works, too.”

  “Did I hear you call him Dix?” Hana asked.

  “Did I? I can barely say it out loud, but yes, that’s his name. He’s some big shot at the casino. At least my brother said he was. Jack—that’s my brother—wanted to punch out his lights, but then he’d lose his job, and he needs the job. His friend Harry is a big martial arts guru, and he said he could cripple him or something. Oh, God, I don’t want him hurt. I love him. I don’t know what to do! Tell me what to do before I lose my mind.” Maggie started to wail again, a high keening sound of pure misery, as she recalled how she’d handed the fluffy pink bundle over to the vet.

  “You just wait right here, honey. Wash your face and stop crying. I’ll be right back.”

  Outside, Jack handed his credit card to the waitress and stood up to follow her to the cashier. “Move it, Harry.”

  “What about Maggie?”

  “If I’m not mistaken, Maggie is going to be joining that party of women any minute now. See those three women heading for the restroom? That’s Maggie’s plan. If you can’t beat them, join up. In her mind, I guess she thinks it will work. I gotta say, I didn’t see that coming. She’s got guts. I’ll give her that,” Jack said.

  Outside and fast approaching their rental van, Jack and Harry stepped aside to avoid running into Snowden and his two operatives. After Harry and Jack were ensconced in the van, Snowden joined them, while his operatives remained on the sidewalk. As far as Jack could tell, no one was paying any attention to any of them.

  “Nice sleight of hand, Snowden. That was so slick, I almost missed it,” Jack said.

  Snowden inclined his head to show he also marveled at his own sleight of hand. Snowden did have an ego. “What’s taking Maggie so long? You guys know it’s never good to stay in one place more than a few minutes. Especially out in the open like this.”

  Jack filled in Snowden on what he thought Maggie was doing. “Look, I could be wrong, but knowing Maggie, it’s the only thing that makes sense. Think about it. I actually believe she can make it work.”

  “It’s too pat. There is no way she can pull something like that off. That bunch of women reeks of savvy to me,” Snowden growled, displeased that Maggie had taken matters into her own hands without his approval.

  Like lightning, Harry swiveled around and put out his hand, the palm a hair from Snowden’s face. “You do not know Maggie.” His tone was low and menacing.

  Snowden didn’t bat an eye, and he didn’t back down. “I may not know what makes Maggie Spritzer tick, but I do know women! And there is no way in hell that bunch of women is going to welcome her, a total stranger, into whatever they’re planning.”

  Jack and Harry both burst out laughing.

  “First of all, Snowden, the man hasn’t been born that knows what women are all about,” Jack said. “If you think you do, then you’re a fool. Since we’re in the gambling mecca of our country, I’m willing to make a wager, and Harry, too. We’re putting our money on Maggie, ten big ones. What do you say, Snowden? Put up or shut up.”

  “You’re on, hotshot! I concede that I might not know everything about women, but I do know a lot. So the bet is Maggie is going to worm her way into the group, they’re going to accept her and spill their guts to her, and she will, in turn, spill her guts to us. That’s the bet. I just want to be sure.”

  “That’s the bet,” Harry said.

  “What’s the time frame?” Snowden barked, his eyes suddenly worried.

  “Ninety minutes for lunch, ten minutes saying good-bye, another ten minutes arranging another meet, travel back to Babylon . . . two, two and a half hours. Three at the most. Make sure you have your money ready, and Harry and I do not take checks. Beat it now. We’re heading back to the casino. I’m suddenly feeling lucky.”

  Snowden offered up his famous single-digit salute, but he did exit the van to return to the Cat & Cradle to keep his eye on what was going on.

  “I never did like that guy,” Harry said.

  “Me, either, but Charles swears by him. It’s a Brit thing, I guess.”

  “Jack, you okay with leaving Maggie here?”

  “Yeah. Maggie is smart enough to know we’ll figure out what she’s doing. She’s a big girl. She can get back on her own. She’s fast on her feet and quick on the draw. You know that. If there is a downside, it’s that she isn’t going to be able to trail around with Kelly and the boys anymore, and that alone will make her happy. One of those women might spot her, and her cover story, whatever it is, gets blown out of the water. She’ll be fine, trust me.”

  “Okay, if you say so. Wonder what’s going on right now.”

  What was going on was that the two women Hana had brought back to the restroom were consoling Maggie and inviting her to join them for lunch. She protested a little and wailed some more when they exited the restroom.

  “Look. My brother and his friend left. I don’t blame them. They’re sick of hearing me cry and whine.” She swabbed at her eyes again. She wondered how bad she looked, not that she cared.

  “Don’t you give it another thought, sweetie. We’ll make sure you get back to your hotel safe and sound. We’re all going to help you. All of us,” Hana Frey said as she pointed to the twenty-five women sitting at the table and eyeing her curiously. “We’re actually a club. Of sorts,” she said vaguely. “That means we’ve all been in your shoes and know what you’re going through. We help each other. We’re going to help you, too, because that’s what we women do. We’re always there for each other. I just want you to know you can count on us.”

  Kitty Passion, the shill and the newest member of the group by two years, held up her hand. “I’m not sure this is the place to discuss what needs to be discussed. I have an idea. How about we just have lunch, split up, and meet out at the ranch this evening and have a regular sleepover? We can grill some steaks, drink some wine, and have a regular girl fest. And, of course, figure out how we can help Maggie.”

  The ranch Kitty was referring to was a recent inheritance and the reason she’d moved to Las Vegas from Philadelphia. While she didn’t have as much tenure as the others, she’d stepped up to the plate and become a regular within weeks of moving to Las Vegas two years ago. The fact that she was young and had been a showgirl in Atlantic City had aced her acceptance into the group. The women loved going out to the ranch and just doing girl things on their days off. Once Kitty became comfortable with the group, she’d handed out keys and said, “Mi casa, su casa.” She’d gone on to say they were welcome anytime, and there was no need to call ahead. There was only one rule, and that was that no men were to be brought to the ranch.

  Kitty’s initiation into the group was that she had to meet Dixson Kelly, make him fall for her, then keep him at arm’s length. She was to lead him on, then pull back, to give him a taste of his own medicine. Kitty had gone at it full bore and had ended up with Dixson calling her at all hours of the day and night. Her las
t report to the club members was that she had him right where she wanted him, salivating and begging her to go out with him. She, in turn, had told him she was saving herself for marriage and was not some fast and loose chippie. Saving herself meant she was a virgin. She had giggled when she told the club that Dixson had done everything but howl at the moon.

  Maggie finally stopped crying, did a few hiccups for good measure, and started to sip at her glass of wine. Charles would have been appalled at the way the women chattered and babbled as they ate their Caesar salads and swigged down wine. Within minutes, Maggie knew she was being interrogated, and it was so masterfully done, she was in awe. No one brought up Dixson Kelly’s name; nor did Maggie mention it again. She stayed with her story as they asked in various ways the how, the when, and the what of her relationship with the Vegas honcho, as they called her lover. Between tears and a few sobs, she got her story out.

  “I was out of my league. I think I even knew it, but I was in love. I mean, look at me, ladies. I’m a ‘what you see is what you get’ kind of girl. I’m not beautiful like you all are. Kitty said you’re all showgirls. That’s the kind of girl he should have been attracted to, not someone like me. I was so flattered. I couldn’t believe he hit on me when he did. I guess I’m the stupid one, because when he said he was fed up with false eyelashes, war paint, contact lenses that were all colors of the rainbow, and hair that wasn’t real, I believed him. He said he liked running his hands through my curly hair because it didn’t come off in his hands.

  “When he kissed me, I thought he was going to suck out my tonsils. I’m going to miss that. He used to trace my freckles with his forefinger. He said my freckles were endearing. Then he said he was glad I didn’t wear gobs of makeup, because he hated having to send his suits to the cleaners after a date, because sometimes the makeup didn’t come out, and he’d have to toss the suit. He wore custom-made suits, too. But he said he didn’t have to worry about that anymore, now that he’d met me.”

  Maggie squeezed out more tears and used the napkin by her plate to wipe at her face. She had a rapt, attentive audience. She decided to quit while she felt like she was ahead. Then she decided to throw one last tidbit into the ring. “I even picked out my wedding dress. A Vera Wang.” She boo-hooed again and sat back in her chair, as though she were exhausted. She risked a glance at her watch, wishing there was a way to alert Jack and the others about what was going on.

  She sniffled a few more times for effect and said, “I feel like this is my lucky day, meeting all of you, and you wanting to help me. I . . . I was never . . . you know . . . kicked to the curb before, so to speak. Why couldn’t he just be man enough and say he wanted out? Why?” she cried in a tormented voice. She should have been an actress.

  “Because he’s a first-class louse,” one of the women said.

  “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could turn the tables on guys like him so he could see how it felt?” suggested one of the women at the far end of the table.

  Maggie swallowed hard at the words. She knew where this was going. “I sure would like to do that. I haven’t been able to eat or sleep for weeks.” Her words were so bitter-sounding, she realized she was a better actress than she had even thought.

  “Well, we can talk about that tonight out at the ranch, when we get all comfortable and cozy,” Kitty said. “I’m sure between all of us, we can come up with a plan so you get your wish. That’s if you’re really serious.”

  Maggie looked around the table at all the expectant faces waiting for her response. “I am very serious, but I want you all to know it’s going to kill me to do it. I don’t know how to turn off my feelings.”

  “See! See! That’s the thing. The men who did us dirty don’t stop to think about our feelings, so why should we worry about theirs? You need to get hopping mad and go for the jugular. Teach that skunk a lesson he’ll never forget,” Hana said. A rousing cheer went up around the table.

  Maggie sniffed again and wiped at her eyes. “You’re right! Okay, I’m in for whatever you all come up with. I want to look into his eyes and tell him what a low-life, bottom-feeding, lying, cheating scumbag he is. That’s what I want!” Maggie cried dramatically.

  “And that’s exactly what you are going to get, my dear,” Kitty said. Then she grinned and said, “Meow.”

  The women all laughed, even Maggie. Man, she was so in like Flynn, it was scary.

  The women decided to forgo the Jell-O dessert and asked for the bill. Everyone but Maggie scurried to come up with her share, and then they were outside. One of the women hailed a cab for Maggie. Kitty handed over a slip of paper with directions to her ranch.

  “Your best bet is a cab,” she told Maggie. “Bring enough stuff to spend the night. We’ll give you a ride back to town in the morning.”

  The good-byes were long and loud. And then the cab was pulling away from the curb just as Avery Snowden hopped into the cab behind hers.

  Maggie thought she was going to explode as she pulled out her phone and sent one text after another. Lordy, Lordy, she’d hit the mother lode.

  Chapter 12

  Everyone was sprawled on the furniture and the floor as they watched Abner and Mary Alice tapping away at their computers in the little room off the main suite. They all looked worried, especially Charles and Fergus. This was taking too long. The hackers had been at it for hours, with nothing to show for their efforts. Sparrow just kept shaking his head and chewing on his bottom lip.

  The door to the suite opened to admit Jack and Harry. They quickly related in hushed voices, so as not to disturb Abner and PIP, what had gone down at the Cat & Cradle. The others digested the information.

  Sparrow spoke first. “Why are we spending so much time on Kelly’s love life? So he’s a Romeo, a Casanova. Who the hell cares? I really don’t see how that is of interest in terms of what we’re here for. Will someone please enlighten me?”

  “It’s a thread. It might or might not tie into why we’re here. While it may not seem important, we can’t just ignore it, either. If it’s nothing, then no problem. We put it behind us. If it turns into something, we play it out to the end,” Charles said. He turned to Jack and demanded, “What’s your gut feeling? Do you think one has anything to do with the other?”

  “I don’t know. Part of me says yes, and part of me says no. It’s a crapshoot, Charles. Maybe when Maggie gets here and tells us whatever she’s found out, if anything, we’ll know more.”

  The room went quiet again so that they could hear Abner and PIP’s disgruntled commentary. They heard mutterings about how the guy had to have software on his computers that erased the hard drive if someone hacked or tried to copy it or used the wrong password, in which case it would wipe the computer clean.

  “Hey, maybe since we don’t have access to the classified feeds, we could port in through a private virtual network,” Abner said. “Wanna give it a shot, PIP?”

  “I already tried that. You watched me. You’re burned out, and so am I. I give up. We’re never going to catch this guy. He’s way too smart for us.”

  “That’s it! I’m done!” The group looked up to see Abner getting up off his chair and throwing his hands in the air. “This is impossible! We can’t do it! That guy has got to be an absolute genius.

  “Listen to me and pay attention. This guy has malware that is so sophisticated, he could use it to dispense cash from ATMs without any physical contact with the machines themselves. Then he could have what the money guys call mules walk by, scoop it up, and that’s the end of it. It’s a new era in cyber crime. It’s here whether you like it or not. I read about it, and so did PIP. It’s called an APT attack, which stands for ‘advanced persistent threat’ attack. This is just like those Russians who hacked the one billion dollars from the banks. Hell, RC probably set up the malware for that caper. Wouldn’t put it past him, either, and PIP agrees.

  “We simply cannot hack in! No one except the guy that set it up can, and my money is on RC. I never thought I’d live to s
ee this day. The guy has to have an army backing up what he’s doing.”

  Mary Alice, her eyes red and gritty, looked like she was ready to cry. “Abner’s right. No matter what we do, we hit an invisible firewall. The guy is good. Actually, better than good. He’s without equal. This is a waste of time. You need to give this up and find another way to get to him.”

  “What would you suggest, Miss PIP?” Fergus said.

  “Like I know! I thought you people knew what you were doing? Obviously, you don’t, so how do you expect me to help you? Can I go home now?”

  “Not yet,” Sparrow said.

  Cyrus barked his agreement just as Maggie blew into the room, her eyes sparkling.

  Knowing what was coming, Jack winked at Abner as he escorted him and PIP to the room adjacent to Charles’s sitting room. “Keep an eye on her. Not that she can get out of here with Cyrus standing guard. Just be careful and don’t trust her.”

  “Like you know me well enough to make a statement like that,” Mary Alice snarled. “For all you know, I could have Houdini qualities.”

  “I don’t think I want to know you either,” Jack snarled back as he closed the door.

  “Okay, okay, what’ya got, Maggie? How did it all go down?”

  Maggie was in her glory. She smacked her hands together and sat down before she said, “Gather round, kiddies, and listen up. The ladies invited me out to Kitty’s ranch tonight for a sleepover. A girl thing. You know, steaks on the grill, lots of wine, girl talk. Guy bashing, that kind of thing. The one named Kitty inherited this chicken ranch out in the desert. It supplies all the eggs that are consumed here in Vegas. She’s rich. I think. We didn’t get into that. She’s a showgirl from Atlantic City. She came here when her favorite aunt passed away and left her the ranch. She said she works it. She also said she’s giving up the showgirl gig because it’s too hard on the body. I’m going.”