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.”
He takes a handkerchief out of his pocket. “You had one job to do.”
“I did it. Down to a T. I’m sorry it didn’t work, but that should be enough for a conviction.
