The Collectors

Neither one was smiling now.

“What’s the deal?” Leo asked.

“I’ll tell you after we run a couple shorts. I need some seed for the long.”

“A long con! Who does that anymore?”

She cocked her head and stared down at him. In her high-heeled boots she was five-eleven. “I do. I never stopped, in fact.”

He noted her long red hair. “Weren’t you a brunet the last time I saw you?”

“I’m anything I need to be.”

A grin eased across his face. “Same old Annabelle.”

Her gaze hardened slightly. “No, not the same old. Better. You in?”

“What’s the risk level?”

“High, but so’s the reward.”

A car alarm erupted with eardrum-shattering decibels. Neither of them even flinched. Cons at their level that lost their cool under any circumstances became either guests of the penal system or dead.

Leo finally blinked. “Okay, I’m in. What now?”

“Now we line up a couple other people.”

“We rolling all-star on this?” His eyes glittered at the prospect.

“Long con deserves nothing but the best.” She picked up the black queen. “I’ll take my payment in dinner tonight for pulling the lady out of your ‘magic’ deck.”

“Afraid there aren’t many restaurants worth eating at around here.”

“Not here. We’re flying to L.A. in three hours.”

“L.A. in three hours! I’m not even packed. And I don’t have a ticket.”

“It’s in your left jacket pocket. I snaked it there when I was feeling you up.” She eyed his flabby midsection and raised an eyebrow. “You’ve put on weight, Leo.”

She turned and strode off as Leo checked his pocket and found the plane ticket. He grabbed his cards and raced after her, leaving the card table where it was.

Monte was on vacation for a while. The long con was calling.

CHAPTER 3

OVER DINNER THAT NIGHT IN L.A. Annabelle laid out parts of her plan to Leo, including the two players she was looking to bring on.

“Sounds good, but what about the long con? You haven’t told me about that.”

“One step at a time,” she answered, fingering a wineglass, her gaze wandering around the swanky dining room automatically searching for potential marks.

Take a breath, find a chump. She flicked her dyed-red hair out of her face and made momentary eye contact with a guy three tables down. This jerk had been ogling and overtly signaling Annabelle in her little black dress for the last hour while his humiliated date sat silently fuming. Now he slowly licked his lips and winked at her.

Uh-uh, slick, you couldn’t even come close to handling it.

Leo interrupted this thought. “Look, Annabelle, I’m not going to screw you. Hell, I came all this way.”

“Right, you came all this way on my dime.”

“We’re partners, you can tell me. It goes no further.”

Her gaze drifted over him as she finished her cabernet. “Leo, don’t bother. Even you’re not that good of a liar.”

A waiter came by and handed her a card. “From the gentleman over there,” he said, pointing to the man who’d been ogling her.

Annabelle took the card. It said that the man was a talent agent. He’d also helpfully written on the back of the card a specific sex act he’d like to perform on her.

Okay, Mr. Talent Agent. You asked for it.

On the way out she stopped at a table with five stout guys in pinstripe suits. She said something and they all laughed. She gave one of them a pat on the head and another, a man of about forty with gray temples and thick shoulders, a peck on the cheek. They all laughed at something else Annabelle said. Then she sat down and talked with them for a few minutes. Leo looked at her curiously as Annabelle left the table and walked past him toward the exit.

As she passed the talent agent’s table, he said, “Hey, baby, call me. I mean it. You are so hot, I’m on fire!”

Annabelle swiped a glass of water off the tray of a passing waiter and said, “Well, then let’s cool you off, stud.” She dumped the water in the guy’s lap. He jumped up.

“Damn it! You’re gonna pay for that, you crazy bitch.”

His date covered her mouth to hide her laughter.

Before the man could reach out to grab her, Annabelle shot out a hand and clutched his wrist. “You see those