Luke Murphy - Dead Man's Hand

“How are you?”

“How do you think I am?”

“You’ll feel better soon. You kept your end of the bargain, so as we speak I’m transferring three million into your Cayman account.” Shawn tapped a few keys and clicked the mouse button.

“Looks like everything worked out for you.”

Shawn smiled. “Yes indeed, from beginning to end.”

“You’re not worried about Watters?”

Shawn shook his head. “Not in the least. Watters and I were working together to find the real killer.” He chuckled. “It would be inconceivable to him that I had anything to do with it.” He cleared his throat. “Can I trust you, Mr. Baxter?”

Baxter grunted. “I’m not helping the authorities, if that’s what you’re referring to.”

Shawn smiled. He knew as much.

Baxter said, “It shouldn’t be long before I’m released. I’m too valuable to them. They can’t afford to court-martial me, or leave me to civilian arrest.” Baxter said. “I’ll be on my own again soon. And if they don’t release me, I’ll find a way to escape just like last time.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Baxter. I’ll be in touch when I require your valuable skills again.”

“Oh, you’ll be seeing me before that. I’m not done with Watters yet.”

Shawn hung up. He leaned back in his father’s Herman Miller Aeron, graphite-framed chair, rested his feet on his father’s Mayline Corsica six-foot office desk and smoked one of his father’s Cuban Double Corona cigars.

Linda had been the key. He’d made sure to send her to that Casino Owner conference in Atlantic City last year to lure in Sanders with their “chance meeting.”

Shawn had to admit that Linda was a piece of work and a great piece of ass. He might even miss her…a little. Sanders and his father had no idea that it was actually he and Linda playing them. Sanders, the idiot, thought he was a mastermind. They’d manipulated him in various ways for the fun of it.

In a little more than a week, Shawn had taken out every threat and only Sanders was going to prison.

His dad should have tried to work things out, instead of leaving them for the glitz and glamour and that slut Linda.

It was the changes his father had made in his will that had seriously bothered Shawn, because they meant that if Linda was still married to Doug at the time of his death, her share of his estate would include part ownership of the Greek and the freedom to sell that share to anyone she wanted. Either way, if his father died first, Shawn would be stuck with a partner outside the family and he knew how much disruption such a partner could cause if they chose to, even without having voting stock.

All existing problems had been eliminated and Shawn, with a clear mind, could now focus on the next steps. He would buy the shares from Melanie and his mother, even though he controlled theirs by proxy, giving him one-hundred percent voting control and almost eighty-eight percent ownership. All that was left was the part ownership share that Sanders had bought from Linda.

With Sanders sure to go to prison for the rest of his life, he’d be forced to sell his share and Shawn would make sure he was the final buyer regardless of cost. It was the one-hundred percent ownership that mattered the most. Combined with his total voting control, he’d be able to rule the Greek like an emperor.

Shawn Grant was on top of the world.

Epilogue

Monday morning, Calvin woke up rested and happy, having just had the first real, dreamless sleep in a long time.

He’d beaten Baxter just over a week ago and he still couldn’t believe that he was able to win over such a competitor. The healing was not complete, but the doctors were amazed at his speedy recovery.

Last night, after taking all the medication he’d been prescribed, he’d gone to bed early with Rachel. They had nothing to fear and few worries, a brand new prelude to making love for them.

For the first time in four years, because of the doctor’s strong meds, he’d been able to sleep with little pain. He looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand next to him and turned it off.

He set his head back down on the pillow and closed his eyes. A wide grin appeared on his face. He’d been smiling a lot of late and had a lot to smile about. But he needed to get moving so he wouldn’t be late for the start of one of the most important days in his life.

He and Dale lived by the same creed—do your best. After that, whatever happened was what it was and whether he was continuing from the top or near the bottom, Calvin knew he would persevere and never quit again.

Energized with excitement and determination, he sat up on the edge of his bed and stretched his side. He twisted his midsection and rubbed the large scar on his shoulder that was slowly beginning to form. It would always be a physical reminder and memory of that night, but only that.

He rose and checked the stability of his knee. After the way he’d pushed his body from that Wednesday evening when he’d learned of Grant’s death, through Saturday night, including that pursuit of Baxter, his knee had a lot of new injuries to recover from. He planned to start physical therapy in a week and when his body was ready, resume his grueling daily exercise regimen in small doses.

He laughed. I want to be Superman again.

The bathroom door opened and Rachel stepped out.

His eyes bulged. “Wow, Rachel. You’re stunning.”

Rachel did a little pirouette and smiled.

She wore a new, dark-colored Armani suit and her hair, dyed back to its natural straw color, was cut short to reveal her high cheekbones and strong jaw. She sported black-framed glasses that gave her an intellectual look. Her face displayed just enough makeup, but not too much.

Calvin had always thought of Rachel as beautiful, in her heart and physically, but he was amazed by how radiantly beautiful she looked now. More than ever, she looked like the All-American beauty she’d always been to him.

“Can you believe this place?” Rachel spread her arms out wide.

He smiled. “Yeah, it is pretty amazing.” They had just moved in yesterday, so the apartment was still by no means fully furnished. It wasn’t upscale Vegas, but it was a definite upgrade from his last apartment. “You’re up early.”

“This is a big day for me, for us. Did you ever think, even a few days ago, that we’d be here now?”

“No.” It was true. That he and Rachel had come this far together as lovers and were now here, even more together, as they shared their love was still a dream to him. The new lives together he’d envisioned for them before had been realistic, not the dreamlike quality they both felt so strongly now.

Calvin sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Rachel asked.

“I’m a bit nervous.”

“You’ve never been nervous about anything in your life.”

“But this is all so new for me. What if I fail?”

She put her hands on her hips. “Calvin Watters, have you ever failed at anything in your life?”

He smirked.

“I didn’t think so. Now get in that shower.”

He saluted with a mock grin. “Yes, ma’am.” He started to move, then hesitated. “How about a quickie for good luck?”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “In your dreams. Move!”

He jogged into the bathroom, giving her a flirtatious slap on the backside on the way by.

They left the apartment and jumped into their new vehicle, a second-hand Ford Escape—the vehicle Rachel had picked out since Calvin’s car had been confiscated. He followed the directions he’d been given and saw Dale and Jimmy standing outside their parked cruiser.

As he strode toward them, Calvin put his hand out, but Dale batted it away, giving him a hearty hug instead, which Calvin was happy to return. When they separated, Jimmy stepped forward, shaking Calvin’s hand.