Jesse drove me straight to Villa Russo, where he was expected for his shift at the bar. I asked Sienna to meet me for a drink, as we always do, and she did. I laughed, and she eyed Jesse, desperately asking me for details but I told her the bar wasn’t a place to have such a conversation.
That didn’t stop her from making Jesse blush every chance she got.
My mother and Gia showed up for dinner, and we were joined by Sienna and Uncle Enzo. He didn’t say anything, but I had a feeling Dad had told him to keep an eye on me.
Regardless, I appreciated his silence, as he didn’t tell my mother a word about my safety. Especially since she kept rattling off about my father being let out of the hospital. A thought that makes us all wary.
After dinner, Sienna sat at the bar with me, knowing I needed a reason to stay while I waited for Jesse to finish his shift.
It was late when we finally made it back to Jesse’s house. We made love in the shower and then watched reruns of a late-night talk show until we both fell asleep on the couch.
After such a relaxing and normal evening, it’s crazy to have this shaking feeling as I drive upstate. Today is the day I commit a federal crime and try to save my family.
I look in my rearview mirror, expecting to see Jesse’s white car but it’s not there.
This morning, he taped a wire to my chest. It’s much smaller than what they show in the movies, but it’s itchy, and if I twist the wrong way, the tape pulls at my skin, and it’s uncomfortable.
The back of my neck is coated with sweat, so I blast the air conditioner. I need to stay focused and not pass out from panic. I think of something calming, like Jesse’s kiss just before I got in the car. He kissed me hard and reiterated that he would be with me the whole time even if I can’t see him. I nodded and then hugged him, breathing in his scent and committing it to memory.
“I got you,” he said as he stared at my face like it would be the last time.
I know he didn’t mean for his look to appear that way, but it did.
It’s amazing to think that this special agent has a secret world of operatives who are looking after me on my behalf. Salinger must be standing by with an army, waiting to storm the New York State Gaming Commission’s new studio at the sound of his command.
The three-hour drive goes faster than I anticipated, probably because I’m dreading being here.
I look at the clock and see I’m early. There’s two and a half hours until the drawing.
A knock at my window shocks me out of my seat.
Eric is outside my window with a big smile and a wave hello. With my hand on my chest to calm my erratic heart, I roll down my window.
“We should have driven up together,” he says. “I didn’t think about it until I was halfway up here, thinking, Man, I could use some company.”
I smile. “Yeah, that would have been a good idea. Long drive. Super boring.”
With a swallow, I look at the glove compartment. I need to bring the gloves in. How do I do that without Eric noticing?
“I need to make a quick call. Why don’t you go in there and check out what needs to be done? I’ll be right in,” I say with all my teeth showing, which makes him look at me quizzically.
“Sure. See you inside.”
As he walks away, I hit my head against the headrest and count backward from ten. “Time’s up,” I tell myself. “Let’s do this.”
I start to open the glove compartment and realize I’m being recorded while talking to myself, so I add, “Anyone who is listening should know that, when asked to follow through with an illegal crime, it makes you a bit frazzled, and you will talk to yourself.”
I also realize this recording might be used someday in a court of law. I don’t suppose it would hurt to plead my case, just in case things go sour.
I roll up my window, take one deep, cleansing breath, and speak into my empty car, “I, Amelia Sorrentino, have been blackmailed into rigging the Mega State Jackpot. I was coerced into doing so by a gun-wielding man who threatened to kill my family unless I wore the gloves he left in my glove box when handling the balls.” I grimace at how dirty that sounded. I can picture an officer sitting in a van somewhere, listening to my wire, snickering at my ball comment. “I’m scared,” I state seriously. “I don’t want to do this, but I have to. I hope I’m forgiven for what I am about to do.”
Feeling a little better that I stated my innocence and with the knowledge that someone is listening, I open the glove box and see a pair of white gloves in a plastic bag. I place them in my purse and get out of my car.
The building looks like any office building.
Eric is inside along with DeLuca and Sarah. We each say hello, which I do awkwardly, so very aware that I have a wire taped to my breastbone.
“Welcome!” a woman with short, curly hair says to us. “I just need everyone’s IDs and for you to fill out some paperwork before we step inside.”
We do so, and we all pass the initial vetting process. With that out of the way, we follow the woman, whose name is Marjorie, through the building. She tells us all about the new building. Eric has ten questions for every anecdote she gives.
We’re brought to a small room, where we’re told to get comfortable. Eric and Sarah are chatty with each other while DeLuca and I sit quietly.
When Marjorie returns, DeLuca and I are quick to our feet. She steps back, surprised by our eagerness.
“Oh, well, aren’t you an excited bunch. It’s time for the selection of the machine we’ll use today. The mandate states four people must be in the room when the machine is chosen at random.”
“I will.” Eric is overeager.
I step in front of him. “I’d be honored. Really. I’m a huge fan of the Gaming Commission. Seeing what goes on in the selection process would be awesome!”
My excited smile seems to win Marjorie over. “Well, I was going to ask Mr. DeLuca, but if you don’t mind this young lady doing the honors …”
“It’s okay. We’ll be in the room for the actual drawing,” DeLuca says, stepping back.
“Great!” I am at Marjorie’s side at the door.
“Oh no, dear. You’ll have to leave your bag.”
I stare at my lifeline that holds the gloves inside. “Um, I was going to use the restroom first. Do you have a ladies’ room I could use super fast?”
“Yes. Right through that door.”
I walk quickly toward where the restroom is and hope she doesn’t give my spot inside the room to Eric while I’m gone. I don’t wait to get into a stall when I open the plastic bag with the gloves inside and take them out, folding them inside the bust of my dress, desperately hoping I don’t mess them up.
I rush out and leave my bag on the chair I was sitting in before and then follow Marjorie out of the room.
We’re joined by two other women from the gaming commission. When all are accounted for, Marjorie opens the door, and we walk inside.
“We conduct four drawings a day, six days a week, but these machines are specially allocated for tonight’s Mega Ball drawing,” she tells me.
“You use all of them?” I ask as I look at four machines concealed in gray covers.
“Just one. Selected at random. That’s what you’re here for.”
“The third from the right,” I say too quickly. “Three is my lucky number.”
“Three it is,” she says, and the other two people move the machine out of the room.
“Where is it going?” I ask as I follow them and the machine into the hallway.
“Testing.” She opens the door to where DeLuca, Eric, and Sarah are sitting and asks them to join her.
A television studio, where the lotto will be drawn live, is at the end of the hall. The flashy blue background with the Mega State Jackpot logo is the backdrop on a small stage with a blue carpet. Three television cameras are aimed at the set while a control room sits behind a pane of glass on the side.
“High tech,” Eric says with anticipation.
A set of balls is brought into the room. Marjorie explains these aren’t the balls that will be used for the drawing, but the ones that are used to make sure the machine is “tip-top.” Sarah and Eric act as the independent auditors to make sure the balls work in the machine.
My foot taps, and I watch in hopes that machine three doesn’t falter. It can’t. It’s the only one I was instructed to use, and if it fails and they go with another machine, I don’t know if the rest of the plan will work. If I had to choose machine three, it’s because someone here rigged it.
Anxiously, I look around the room for any suspicious characters. Eric and Sarah are with the staff. While they do mock drawings, the cameramen test check the camera angles.
When they declare the machine is good to go, I let out a sigh.
The machine is wheeled back down the hall, and I follow. I don’t know if I’m supposed to, but I take the initiative, and DeLuca follows me.
In the room, the machine is rolled to the center, and two boxes are brought out. When they open them and I see the balls, my heart pounds out of my chest, and my ears start to ring.
A box is passed around, and I realize everyone is taking out a pair of cloth gloves. When it’s my turn, I hold the box to my chest, and while everyone else is busy putting theirs on, I pretend I’m taking gloves out of the box when, really, I’m pulling them out of my chest.
“We’re going to need you to load the balls,” Marjorie says to me, and I could kiss her with how easy she’s making this for me. “We aren’t allowed to touch them. Only an outside auditor.”
“Right,” I say and put my gloves on while walking up to the balls.
“Unless, of course, Mr. DeLuca, would you like to do the honors?” she asks him, and I almost trip over my seat.
“Happy to watch,” he says and takes a place near me.
I’m told to place the white balls into the machine. Before I do so, I stare at them and mentally go over the rules to tonight’s game.
“Load every ball with your right hand, except for numbers seventeen, twenty-three, twenty-seven, forty-nine, fifty-three, and sixty-four. Those you’ll load with your left hand.”
I grab each ball with my right hand as I recite mine, my mother’s, and my father’s cell phone numbers in my head. If it’s one that I need, I use my left hand.
If I’m showing how nervous I am, they’re not letting on. Maybe everyone’s a little anxious when they’re doing an important task like this.
Two of the staff make small talk about what they plan to have for dinner while Marjorie observes me. I give her a shaky smile as I slowly put the balls inside.
“You look so nervous, sweetheart. Just place them in one at a time. No big deal.”
The woman has no idea what she’s talking about. This is like defusing a bomb. I lift the seventeen and stare at it, mentally going through the numbers again, confirming that one-seven-four-nine are the last digits of my phone number and that one-seven is indeed seventeen.
The six I need are in, so I load the rest with no problem, and Marjorie does a double take. “Looks like you’re a pro now!”
“Thanks.” I swallow my nerves as I wipe my brow.
It’s done.
It’s over.
Now, let’s just pray it works.
I take the gloves off and am about to toss them in the trash with the others, but I think twice and keep them in my hand. Sarah and Eric quickly load the red balls in.
DeLuca and I follow the machine out to the hallway. Sarah and Eric are waiting nearby, and the four of us walk with the staffers back toward the studio.
A man is standing in the hall. He’s tall and wearing a navy suit. From his profile, he almost looks like … Salinger?
“Good evening,” Marjorie says to Director Salinger. “Can I help you?”
He flashes his badge quickly. “I’m here to observe tonight’s drawing.”
My heart is light, and my smile is wide with relief at the sight of Salinger.
You came, my eyes say to him. Thank you.
He lifts a chin and looks away, letting me know we’re not supposed to know each other. I follow suit and put on a serious expression.
Salinger steps in behind me at the end of the line. I give some space between me and DeLuca.
“Is everything taken care of?” Salinger whispers into my ear.
“Yes,” I reply.
“Are those the gloves?” he asks.
I nod my head.
“Good. Now, there’s a restroom just before the studio entrance. Go in and take off the wire,” he states, and I whip my head around with a what the hell for expression, but he quickly urges me to turn around. “Have Jesse or I steered you wrong yet?”
Trust, Amelia. You promised you would put your trust in him.
We approach the studio door and Salinger moves to the front of the line, holding it open for everyone, with a gentlemanly smile. Marjorie blushes as she walks through with the machine, followed by Eric, Sarah, the staffers, and then DeLuca.
I do as he said, dipping into the bathroom. I quickly snake my hand into the top of my dress and yank the wire. Jesse secured it tightly, so I have to tear away the large piece of tape.
Holy …
My eyes scrunch closed with how badly that hurt. I lift the microphone piece and quickly snake the wire and the small attached component that was resting in my underwear out of my dress.
I exit the room, and Salinger is standing outside. A guard is near the studio door, but Salinger is blocking his view with his thin frame as he takes the device from me and places it in his inside jacket pocket.
We enter the studio, and the machine is placed on set, just as Madison Worden, the famous lottery announcer, comes out onstage, wearing a sparkly black dress and a face full of stage makeup. Eric nearly falls over himself, and Sarah keeps her composure. DeLuca, Salinger, and I are polite in our hellos.
“In five, four, three …”
The lottery begins. I didn’t realize two hours had passed. When I look at the clock, I see it is indeed time for the show.
The music blares, and Madison speaks quickly, “Welcome to tonight’s New York Mega State Jackpot drawing. I’m Madison Worden, and tonight’s drawing is being observed by DeLuca & Associates. The jackpot is now three hundred and twenty-eight million dollars. To win, you must match these six balls, followed by one of the Mega balls.”
My heart is in my throat as the numbers are announced.
“Forty-nine,” she says, and I could cry with how relieved I am.
“The next number up is twelve,” she says, and my elation quickly vanishes.
That wasn’t one of the numbers.
“Twenty-three. Seventeen,” she announces.
That’s not good.
“Five and … fifty!” she says, and my whole world comes crashing down.
It didn’t work.
It didn’t fucking work.
I look at DeLuca, whose face is green, like he’s going to be sick. Salinger doesn’t seem pleased. I know he wanted the crime for the indictment, but I still went through with it. Just because it didn’t work doesn’t mean it doesn’t count. I hope.
“And that’s tonight’s drawing!” Madison says by the red balls after she announced that it was a six.
And then someone yells, “Clear,” and people clap while others go to the machines and take pictures and carry papers.
We’re huddled on the set, where we’re forced to take pictures, looking excited to be part of the drawing.
Someone tries to take my gloves, and I ask if I can keep them as a souvenir. The FBI may need them as evidence.
The rest is a blur.
I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’m on edge, and my skin prickles all over in fright. I look for my phone.
When I get to my bag, I open it to see no one has called. Salinger has disappeared, and Eric is whistling. DeLuca won’t say a word.
Sarah offers me a piece of gum. “Do you want to go out to dinner?
Eric and I got rooms in town, so we don’t have to drive home,” she offers.
“I have to be back tonight.” My words are blank, as is my expression as I stare straight ahead, in complete shock.
We say good-bye, and I exit the building.
It’s nighttime now.
My car is in the lot. Nothing seems out of place, and in fact, the world appears to be going on as usual.
I get in my car and do a sweep of the back seat. My jaw is quivering, and there’s this buzzing energy radiating through me. I don’t like this feeling. It’s dark and ominous, and I just know something horrible is about to ensue.
I start my car and begin my drive. It’s an easy drive down a main road until I get to the highway. I see the green sign to enter onto the highway, so I make a right and curve down a long road that will wind around under the highway and then take me south in the direction for the city.
I’m winding around the bend when a flash of red and blue lights ignites behind me. I look at the speedometer. I’m not speeding, but I pull over anyway.
The officer gets out, followed by another man in a suit.
“Salinger,” I say out loud, delighted that he’s here.
“Get out of the car, ma’am,” the officer says, and I don’t hesitate.
“Boy, am I glad to see you. I did exactly as they said. I only used my right hand, and I replayed every number precisely—”
“Get in the car, Amelia,” Salinger says, motioning toward the back seat of mine.
“You want me to get back into my car?” I stammer.
“Yes.” His tone is full of authority, so I do what he said.
He hands a thick envelope to the officer. “Thank you for your time.”
The officer takes it, walks back to the police car, and drives away.
Salinger and I are under a dark overpass in the middle of, as far as I’m concerned, nowhere. I’m sitting in the back seat with my feet hanging out, and he’s standing above me.
“What’s happening?” My voice is laced with desperation. “Is my family okay? Where’s Jesse? Where is he? He said he’d be with me the whole time.”
Body of Trust: A Romantic Suspense Novel Page 16