Chapter Six

Jamie and Cookie arrived at Senior Seaside Adventures and were greeted by a parking lot hosting more golf carts than automobiles. It was official—they were deep in the heart of winter Texan land.

Cookie held open the door for Jamie, gesturing with his outstretched arm. “After you.”

They stepped inside, and Jamie immediately spotted Erin greeting her guests. Jamie walked over and hugged her friend. “What’s shakin’, bacon? Any big plans for your silver-haired high rollers I should know about?”

Erin returned the hug but laughed Jamie off. She hurried to greet one of her regulars, a frail but spunky woman pushing eighty… and a walker.

Erin helped the woman maneuver her walker through the front door. “Ready for an evening of high-stakes bingo?”

“I’m on a roll this week,” Mrs. Kramer said. “I’m going to kick some gray-haired butt tonight!”

Jamie had heard stories from Erin about Mrs. Kramer. The woman had a competitive streak that ran deep and mean. Recently, she had started sprint-walking on the seniors’ circuit. That sweet face masked her ability to throw a wrinkly elbow when least expected. No one got between that woman and the finish line.

“What’s with the walker?” Jamie asked, noting the spry woman had not needed one before.

“Sprained my ankle in my last race. Can’t manage crutches so this is easier. I hate it. Makes me look old.” As if the gray hair, wrinkles, and orthopedic shoes played no part.

Erin helped the woman to her chair at the bingo table, and Mrs. Kramer whispered to her, “Put fifty on the Cowboys for me this weekend. I have a feeling that our losing streak is over.”

“Will do.” Erin patted her back. “I’ll take care of it for you.”

“You’re a dear. Now let’s hope this new quarterback can hold it together.”

“I’d sit on your bets until you have some wins under your belt,” Jamie interjected. “Your guy may have talent, but he gets injured every time he gets the ball.”

Mrs. Kramer nodded. “His bones are worse than mine are these days. Poor guy breaks a collarbone every time he steps on the field.”

Erin smiled, feigned a salute, acknowledging her orders, and returned to her greeting duties.

Jamie and Cookie stood back, eavesdropping on the bet requests taking place. Mr. Dorsey wanted a hundred on the Steelers game, the widow Martin decided to go against her favorite team—something to cause her long-departed husband to roll over in his grave, she was sure—and take the spread on the Broncos. The Carnole twins placed identical bets on the Packers. They explained they were die-hard fans of their home state of Wisconsin except when it came to the climate, which was why they’d moved to Texas. Even they couldn’t resist the lure of temperate winters.

Erin executed her bookie duties with skill and smiles, managing the active band of winter Texans with a warmth Jamie admired. Jamie not only appreciated her friend’s openness but also her business acumen. Erin had established Senior Seaside Adventures as the perfect cover for her fledgling bookie business, and it also fostered her cultivation of well-heeled gamblers over the last couple of years.

Erin had purchased the building as an investment as well as a cover for her betting business. Real estate prices had soared during the last five years in Port Alene, and she’d known enough to get in before the boom. She understood that a business catering to snowbirds would generate cash and clientele. The property would only continue to increase in value, but what it housed was where the true treasure flourished.

Erin signaled to Jamie and Cookie to follow her down the hallway. Cookie stopped and greeted several senior citizens along the way. Jamie overheard two older ladies complimenting Cookie on his Hawaiian shirt. They gushed over him, and Jamie rolled her eyes, knowing her friend just ate it up.

“You running for office?” Jamie asked. “I haven’t seen that much glad-handing since Mayor Vicentes stopped in before the last election.”

“I’m kind of a big deal with the over-sixty set,” Cookie responded, his deadpan expression begging for a response.

“He really is,” Erin said. “Betting goes up when Cookie comes and works the room. I may need to start giving him a cut.”

Jamie grinned. “Don’t encourage him, or I’ll have to listen to him brag all the way home.”

Erin ushered her friends into her office. Unlike the sterile environment of the main game hall, with its gray plastic chairs and long white nondescript banquet tables, Erin’s office could have come straight out of Vegas.

Her phone rang, and she instinctively reached to answer it but stopped before picking up the receiver.

“What’s wrong?” Jamie asked.

“It’s Boxer’s guy Reggie.”

Jamie gestured to the phone. “Go ahead. Put it on speaker. We’ll be quiet.”

Erin couldn’t run from Boxer’s crew. She had to deal with him head-on.

“This is Erin Clay.” Her voice had none of the lovely lift it normally had. Her tone was lower, stronger, and all business.

“How are you, Erin?” The man’s voice had an edge of gravel to it, hinting at a lifelong smoking habit. Jamie glanced at Erin, noticing her posture.

She folded her arms as she stood over the phone. “I’m working, Reggie. What are you doing? Besides harassing me?”

“No harassing. Just a friendly call to check on the competition, that’s all.”

“You’re not the competition, and you’re about as friendly as a pit bull.”

“Pit bulls get a bad rap.”

“I’m busy, Reggie.”

“Boxer heard you’re picking up some customers north of the bridge, and he isn’t too happy about that.”

Erin glanced at Jamie, and Jamie rolled her eyes. Boxer was a rival bookie and had a reputation for breaking bones. Erin had discussed her growing worry about Boxer and his intentions several times over the last few months. Boxer scared the seniors. He told them he could make it look as though they had fallen in the bathtub, and the cops would be none the wiser. The seniors had started pulling their bets back in favor of friendlier company—one reason of many that contributed to Erin’s success. Erin had recognized a market opportunity and seized it, knowing her softer approach would bring better benefits than the stereotypical strong-arm tactics so common in her industry.

Erin employed her own muscle but often relied upon other methods of persuasion to keep payments arriving on time. She preferred to keep her customers in the nonthreatening category. She believed that hurting anyone—especially the elderly—brought bad karma. It simply went against her nature to bring such harm, even when her own money was involved. She remained particularly protective of her older clients, and they knew it.

“Not that I owe you any explanations, Reggie, because Boxer can’t claim any territory just because he says so, but I get lots of clients on referral, friends of friends. Doesn’t matter where they live. They want to book with me because I don’t threaten to push them down the stairs and make it look like an accident. That’s all.”

“Well, he don’t see it that way.”

“It doesn’t matter. You tell Boxer to mind his own business.”

“I don’t think he’s going to like that much.”

“I don’t care what Boxer wants,” Erin shot back. “He’s got his business, and I’ve got mine. Coming in and threatening my clients would be a mistake.”

Erin stabbed the end call button on the console. “What am I going to do about him? Boxer has already chased off two bookies. I’m the last man standing in the area.”

“What about Big Charlie?” Jamie asked.

“No one’s heard from him for a while. Rumor is he’s taken up permanent residence at the bottom of the Gulf.”

Jamie moved behind Erin, who was still sitting at her desk, and hugged her around the shoulders. “Cookie and I can do some research to see if we can figure out what Boxer’s up to.”

Erin tilted her head backward to look at her friend. “I’d really appreciate that. Thanks.”

“Anything for you,” Jamie replied.

“You know, you still owe me two hundred from last week’s game.”

“No family discount?” Jamie joked.

Erin patted her friend’s arm, which rested on her shoulder. “If you look into Boxer, we’ll call it a hundred.”

“Done.”

Jamie released her embrace and reached into her bag for her wallet. She selected the cash and dropped it on Erin’s desk. “There you go, fresh from the bank. And don’t let me place any more bets this month. I can’t afford it.”

“Okay,” Erin agreed. “But don’t get upset with me if you have your latest sure thing and I turn you down.”

“I’m a witness,” Cookie said. “No more betting this month.”

Erin snapped her fingers as though she had just remembered something. She leaned toward her open front door. “Becky!” she called out. “Can you come here for a minute?”

At over 250 pounds, with the haircut of a marine and a sense of humor to match, Becky could enforce almost anything without pulling a weapon. Rumor had it she once left a convicted felon in tears, although no one was sure how she’d done it.

Becky stepped through the open door of Erin’s office. “One down on the completion sheet, two to go today,” she reported.

“If you can close both today, that would be great,” Erin said.

“Working on it,” she replied. “I only had one dodge my call so far, but you know who he is.”

Jamie interjected herself into the conversation. “Hey, Becky, what do you know about Boxer?”

She shrugged. “Enough that I don’t like him.”

Jamie pointed to Erin. “He just called, and I think he might be a problem, so keep an eye out, okay?”

“You want me to shadow you for a while?” Becky asked Erin. “I can square the books first and then trail you if you need me. Extra security is always a good idea.”

Especially when it looks like Becky.

“I’m good, Becky. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

Jamie ignored Erin’s directive to her employee. “Yes, keep a closer eye out, Becky,” Jamie said. “I don’t trust the guy.”

Becky nodded, turned, and walked away, leaving the three friends to finish their conversation. Erin slid into her chair, her body limp, seemingly drained from the conversation with Reggie. “You don’t think Boxer’s going to be a huge problem, do you?” Her expression clearly begged for some sort of comfort.

Jamie and Cookie exchanged a quick glance. “We’ll figure out how to deal with him. Just let Becky be your shadow for a while until we come up with something solid.”

“I hate having someone follow me,” Erin said. “It reminds me of my dad’s security detail.”

“Better Becky than Boxer, right?” Jamie asked.

Erin brushed a long blond strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Yes, Becky is the better choice. I just don’t want this to be a permanent thing—me needing security.”

Jamie understood her friend’s concern. “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of it.”

Jamie and Cookie walked over to Erin and hugged her while she remained sitting in her chair. Cookie gave Erin a pat on the head. “No leaving without Becky, okay?”

Erin begrudgingly agreed and waved them out of her office. “Go on, now.”

Cookie and Jamie turned to leave. They closed the door behind them and were halfway down the hallway before Cookie stopped. He turned to Jamie, his face creased with worry. “You think Boxer’s going to be a problem?”

Jamie nodded. “Absolutely.”