King Con (34 page)

T
HEY LEFT TOMMY AT THE FRESNO AIRPORT. HE GOT
on the big red and white, three-engine Challenger jet. Beano and Duffy watched with Wade and Jimmy Freeze as the plane thundered off the runway and lifted into the pale morning sky.

Beano took off his glasses again and wiped them on his tie. He turned his geeky smile on Jimmy. “Said he’d have the money in a day,” Beano said happily and slid his glasses back up on his nose. “Very exciting. Very exciting, indeed.”

Jimmy grunted, turned, and along with Wade got back in the limo and pulled out, leaving Duffy and Beano standing there. Beano immediately bagged the goofy grin and the thick tortoise-shell glasses which had been giving him a headache. He dropped them into his pocket.

“Tommy fell for the moose pasture hook, line, and decanter,” Duffy grinned, watching the plane until it was out of sight.

“Come on. We’ve gotta see about Dakota and Roger.” They called for a rental car to be delivered to the Spanos Executive Jet Center. A yellow Caprice arrived twenty minutes later, and they drove it back to the houseboat at Mud Flat Marina.

Victoria and Roger were sleeping in the Winnebago
at the far side of the parking lot when Beano knocked on the door. She let them in, and Roger-the-Dodger wagged his tail, even though he was too weak to stand.

Beano moved over to the dog, kneeled, and patted him gingerly on the head. “You got him. I was afraid he was dead,” Beano said. “Where’s Dakota?”

“Hospital in Livingston,” Victoria answered. “Tommy really beat the shit out of her. They had to remove her spleen.”

Beano winced as he listened to the rest of the details.

“You can pick him up,” Victoria said, pointing at Roger after they’d finished exchanging information. “He likes being held. Just watch out for his right hind end. He’s missing a few centimeters back there.”

Beano picked the little terrier up into his arms and cradled him. “Thanks, buddy,” Beano said to the dog. “I screwed up on Tommy. If you hadn’t taken a piece out of his neck and bought me a few seconds, I’d be one dead grifter.”

Roger tried to wag his tail as Beano cradled and hugged him gently.

Victoria had her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “We could drive up to Livingston and see how Dakota’s doing,” she said.

“Yeah,” Beano said, “I’d like that.”

“And I got an address for a vet. I told him I found Roger this way and he wants to see him. We can drop him on the way.”

They took Roger to the vet, who, once he examined him, said he should keep him for twelve hours just to be safe. They kissed Roger good-bye and drove to the little hospital in Livingston. Victoria explained to Beano that she should stay in the car because she had left before the police arrived and hospital Security might try to hold her until the police returned. Besides, she couldn’t take the chance that Tommy’s thugs might see them together.
Beano nodded and got out of the rental car. She watched as he and Duffy moved into the hospital.

Victoria suddenly felt tired, and something else hovered around her, beating dark wings of despair.

The hospital room was filled with metal C-stands, all draped with dripping fluid bottles. Dakota was awake, and she looked up at Beano and Duffy for a long time without talking. Her face was still badly discolored from the bruises. Her lip had been stitched up, but it was going to leave a bad scar.

“You gonna be okay?” Beano asked, worried.

“That’s what they tell me,” she replied softly, trying to talk without moving her lips.

“You weren’t supposed to get beat up.”

“Just get those two assholes, Beano. If you get ‘em, it’ll be worth it.”

They talked for a few minutes, and men Duffy kissed Dakota and told her that his part in the hustle was over for a while and he’d stay here in Livingston to look after her and Roger.

“You’re a doll,” she said, smiling up at him, her luscious black hair fanned out on the pillow, her body taped up under her hospital gown.

“You’ll be glad to know Fentress County Petroleum has full dental and medical,” Beano said, reaching for her hand. “We’ll take care of all this.”

Dakota smiled weakly, exposing her broken teem, then she closed her eyes.

“We better get goin’,” Duffy said and they started to leave.

“Beano, I need to tell you something,” Dakota said, and Beano stayed behind as Duffy moved out into the corridor. “What happened in the Bahamas,” Dakota said, talking slowly, “this beating, was partly my fault. I mishandled it… but Tommy isn’t right. He … he
snaps. Loses it completely. And when he does, he’s got no control. It’s scary. I’ve never seen anything like it. He loves hurting. You can see it in his eyes. Be careful of him. He doesn’t bounce right.”

Beano already knew that. He’d seen that look when Tommy shoved the gun in his mouth. “I’ll be careful,” he said, and leaned down and kissed her gently on the side of her face. “You did great. You got him here. He’s in play.”

“I’m sorry about us, Beano,” she said. “Y’know, I thought we could work. I really did. But I don’t know how to love a man, only how to take one.”

Then she smiled. Her two missing front teeth devastated him. She had been so beautiful. The effects of this beating would never completely vanish.

“All this great-looking equipment,” she continued, “and they left out one important ingredient. No desire to make a nest… to share a dream. But I want you to know I tried with you, I really did. I wanted it to be you, and when that didn’t happen, I decided it would be nobody.”

He looked down at her and nodded.

“One other thing,” Dakota said, “that lawyer, Vicky …” She paused and Beano wondered what Dakota would say. “She’s okay, she stepped up. She put it on the line for me. She lured that rapist who was guarding me away from the car and hit him with a sap. The docs here said another hour and it would have been too late. Wasn’t for her, I’d be dead right now.”

Beano said nothing as he looked down at Dakota.

“What you need is somebody like that… and under it all, she wants to settle down.”

“You’re trying to fix me up?” Beano smiled.

“Don’t laugh it off, buddy. Sweetheart scams are my bubble. Opposites attract. That’s why you and I could never be happy. We’d keep looking into each other’s
bag and hating what we see. We both have the same sickness.” Dakota closed her eyes. “Gotta sleep. Feel like shit. Be good, baby,” she whispered.

Beano squeezed her hand, and after Dakota squeezed back, he left.

They dropped Duffy at the houseboat and then, since Beano was hungry, he took Victoria out for a late brunch. They found a small but romantic restaurant on a man-made lake off the inland waterway. They got a table out on the wood deck and ordered eggs Benedict and champagne cocktails, and when the drinks were delivered, they clinked glasses. Beano felt strange sitting opposite her on that deck, boyish and almost awkward, as if he were on a first date. Dakota had opened his eyes to something he’d been feeling. A few days ago, he’d viewed Victoria Hart as a necessary evil, somebody he needed to accommodate to get information so he could run the con. But she had transformed herself into something more important. He marveled at her energy and her organization. If he’d thought about it, he could have predicted these skills. What he hadn’t been prepared for was her courage.

They sipped champagne cocktails, looking at one another, as the sun began its trip down the afternoon sky, turning the small, man-made blue lake to glittering gold.

“Thank you for helping us,” he finally said.

“You don’t have to thank me,” she said. “I’m here because of Carol… same as you.”

“Dakota thinks a lot of you….”

“And what do you think?” she said softly.

“I’m not sure. I’m still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.”

“Not a con man?”

“This is my last hustle… if I survive it. I think I want more for myself.”

She looked at him and then added, “So do I.”

He wasn’t sure whether she was talking about herself or about him, but either way, he thought it was a promising remark.

They ate their brunch, and she told him about her parents and her life growing up in Connecticut. She told him that she had never before known the thrill of these last few days, that he had taught her things about herself she never would have learned any other way.

He told her about his life on the road, traveling around with his parents, doing roofing scams, tent hustles, and Gypsy blessings. He told her about his gnawing loneliness.

She listened to this and tried to envision his childhood. … She couldn’t, it was so different from hers. But it was the loneliness that struck a chord in her…. This was what had been depressing her and pulling her down.

They left the restaurant at four, and as they were driving back toward the marina, Beano saw a small rental-boat dock and stopped unexpectedly.

They picked out one of the electric launches with cushioned benches and a blue fringed top. Painted on the stern, in blue letters, was its name:
TREASURE HUNTER.

He bought a cheap bottle of wine in the little market and they boarded their tippy vessel for an afternoon excursion, neither of them knowing where they would go or what exactly was happening.

Beano piloted the boat up the river tributary as Victoria opened the bottle and poured the wine into paper cups. The boat’s electric motor whirred softly as they adventured along at a stately five knots, the water lapping against the sides.

Sometime later that afternoon, with most of the wine gone, they found themselves with their arms around one another in the bottom of the small boat while it drifted with the motor off.

“Is this what we really want to do?” Victoria asked, her one last caution light flashing.

“It’s what I want to do,” he said. “But it’s up to you….”

And then she kissed him. In a strange way, that kiss released her. He wasn’t everything she wanted. But he was more important to her right now than any other man in her life had ever been. She wasn’t sure she could even describe why, but she knew her feelings had finally overtaken her structured and cautious mind.

They lay in the bottom of the small boat, holding one another. He started to slowly undress her, and then, after only a moment of hesitation, she reached for the buckle of his belt and undid it. In moments they were naked. The late-afternoon sun peeked under the fringed awning and played on their bodies, heating their skin and emotions.

When he entered her, she felt another moment of pure release, and then, slowly and gently, together, they brought themselves to climax. When it was over, they lay in the boat, breathing heavily.

“This could be a mistake,” he said softly.

“Probably,” she answered him.

They lay there in each other’s arms till sunset. The little boat’s name,
Treasure Hunter
, was appropriate because that afternoon, under its blue-fringed awning, they had discovered treasure.

T
HE THREE JET ENGINES WHIRRED SOFTLY AS TOMMY
“Two Times” Rina sat in the richly appointed cabin of his brother’s Challenger and thought. Tommy had never spent much time thinking. That had always been Joe’s end of things. Tommy was the hammer, the enforcer. Even when they were just ten and twelve, his little brother, Joe, got the best ideas, and Tommy let him do the planning. But there were times, especially lately, when Tommy hated the way Joe treated him. He was, after all, the big brother. He had let Joe take over the role of leader and for years hadn’t even thought twice about it. They had both risen in the criminal world of La Cosa Nostra—Joe to the level of Boss; Tommy, his trusted Consigliere. They had money and power. But lately, Joe had lashed out at Tommy as if he didn’t think Tommy even belonged. It was as if Tommy were just excess baggage that Joe had been saddled with, forgetting all the street work Tommy had done, all the guys Tommy had clipped to help get them there.

Tommy looked at the seat across from him, at the decanter of oil wrapped in a towel and seatbelted in, along with the drilling core sample cylinder with its glass window that showed the dark oil shale. Tommy had called Beau Taylor in Texas from the airphone. Taylor
had been a frequent high-stakes player at Sabre Bay and he and Tommy had become friends. They had even shared a few showgirls. More important to Tommy right now was the fact that Beau Taylor was a wildcat oilman in Dallas who had made millions finding Texas crude. Tommy had described to Beau the little he could remember about the stratigraphic trap and the delineation well. He told about the exploratory field without telling Beau where it was or the name of Fentress County P and G. He didn’t want to trust anybody with that secret. The thing that immediately impressed him was that Beau seemed very excited about the information Tommy gave him. He confirmed to Tommy that all of this information was accurate, that the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission required a gathering station be built over large stratigraphic traps before punching down a delineation well. And Beau was alive with questions about the field and the drill site, the side core samples and the fifteen thousand gallons of crude that had been already pumped. Tommy would not tell him much more than the general facts. He lied and said the well was off the Northern California coast. Tommy asked if Beau knew a geologist, and his friend gave him the name of one in Midland, Texas.