"I think I'd remember you if we'd met, you being so cantankerous and all. I don't usually associate with curmudgeons. Life is just too short. I live in New Jersey."

"Nobody lives in New Jersey," Fish said.

"Well, after I left, the state did kind of fold up. Thanks for this," Annie said, waving the piece of paper back and forth. "What's the other phone number?"

"It's mine. That's in case you ever want to call me, Miss Anna de Silva."

Annie's jaw dropped. She stared at the man who was staring at her. Should she panic and run, or should she brazen it out and hope for the best?

Fish climbed into his car and leaned out the window. "Rena called and explained. Your secret is safe with me. I was funning with you. The guy's a great shoemaker. You being rich and all, you should give some thought to maybe making an offer on one of the casinos in town. Maybe we could partner up financially and give it a whirl. I kind of feel drawn to you, and you got some grit to you."

Grit! Panic bubbled up, but she managed to ask, "Which casino? I didn't know there were any for sale. I don't even know you."

"Well, you know me now. There aren't any casinos for sale right this minute, but one will be going on the market in the next day or so. You have my number. Call me if you're interested."

"Which casino?"

"The Babylon."

Annie turned around and ran as fast as her legs could carry her. She slammed the door again, and the other front window cracked down the middle. "Oh, my God! That man knows! He called me by my name! He wants to go into business with me! We have to get out of here right now! Wait till I tell you. . ."

The women clustered around and demanded to know if aside from knowing about them, through Rena, the leathery menace who had darkened their door had asked her for a date.

"Oh, it's better than that. Listen up, girls."

Chapter 18

Ted Robinson sat on a high stool in the condo's kitchen, his fingers working his ever-present BlackBerry. Lizzie was standing in the doorway talking on her cell phone, taking one call after the other. He wasn't sure, but he thought she looked. . .He grappled for the right word, not exactly worried, maybe apprehensive or concerned. He looked down at a message that had popped up from Maggie:

What's she wearing?

Not, What's going on and why is she worried? But, What's she wearing?

Ted's fingers flew over the keys.