The Train Job: The Levelers, #2

By Stephanie Andrews

A kidnapping forces a couple of con artists to do a job against their will!

What do you do when you've finished giving away $58million in stolen money? Take a vacation, of course.

That's all John and Julia want to do, but when someone kidnaps their daughter, Pearl, they are forced to plan a heist while on a sightseeing train in northern Spain.

Someone on the train is behind the kidnapping, but who? The British cooking show star? The French government agent? The mysterious young Irishwoman? The handsome and friendly head porter?

John and Julia slap together a plan for the heist while trying to get to the truth. Meanwhile, Pearl has escape plans of her own.

This unorthodox family has made a career of robbing from the rich and giving to the poor, but now, THEY are the target.

If you like light-hearted, twisty crime thrillers, the, read The Train Job now.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Piscataqua Press
• Release date: Dec 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215780640

Book preview

The Train Job

The Levelers Book Two

Stephanie Andrews

Copyright ©2022 by Stephanie Andrews

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

One

You have the right to remain silent. If ever there was a phrase to ruin a perfectly good night on the town, that was it.

They both froze. Pearl sighed and looked straight into Ray’s face as she knelt over him, her knees straddling his hips, his long arms reaching up, his hands gripping her throat.

Jesus, Ray, she croaked, a look of disgust on her face, you called the cops?

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Six hours earlier, after lunch at a Portillo’s, she and Ray had headed downtown to do the job. Pearl was more than ready. Nearly a week in the planning, it was longer than Pearl usually spent in close quarters with someone she didn’t care for. It had been increasingly hard to keep up her act. Ray was a real shit.

This was her own fault, as she often reminded herself. She picked her partners on these jobs, and sometimes she chose poorly. Not often, but enough to make her careful. You wanted someone you weren’t going to feel guilty about double-crossing, but you didn’t want to hate every moment you were with them, either. It made the smiling and laughing so much harder. Flirting was still easy. Something about flirting with an asshole she was going to later betray actually turned Pearl on, a fact she purposely didn’t spend too much time examining, because, as someone once said, an unexamined life is a lot more fun.

The target was an insurance company on Wacker. Ray had scoffed at this — insurance? There’s gotta be easier marks in the jewelry down Wabash, he complained. Why we wanna mess around with insurance?

Jewelry stores are too much trouble, Ray, she assured him, rubbing her hand along his shoulder and upper arm. He wore his t-shirts on the tight side, to show off his build, and Pearl always made a point to let him know she noticed. All the good stuff is tagged; the camera systems are top notch. Some places even have motion sensors.

That’s why we just go in during the day, with masks and guns.

Pearl sighed and brushed a long braid over her shoulder. No, honey, I told you. There’s always at least two patrol cars in that area. Usually at least one cop on foot. Also, I know that Ethan Lord’s has a private dude on during the day. Probably one there at night, too. Same with the others. Other hand, I happen to know an office building that has a million-dollar diamond just sitting in a desk drawer. She forced a smile. I know. It seems incredible, but it’s true. Rich people think different than us. Entitled like.

Ray looked into her eyes and read nothing there. Deep black wells, her eyes could also be intelligent and searching. There was a wisdom to Pearl that didn’t make any sense to Ray. Scared him, actually. She had the body of an eighteen-year-old but the mind of a wise old mob boss. She seemed able to figure every angle of any situation and would patiently repeat her reasoning to Ray in a tone of voice that suggested he was in kindergarten. He didn’t like that tone.

But then she would put her hand on his arm like that, and his focus would drift. The skin on her bare arms was smooth and dark, blacker even than his own dark skin, and the necklace that dangled between her breasts was clearly worth more than Ray’s car. That necklace, and the promise of those breasts, were what kept Ray interested in the job. Besides, even when she spoke to Ray in her teacher voice, he was man enough to realize she was right, that she was the pro, that she was the boss. Until the job was done. Then she’d either put out for Ray or he would take what he was owed.

Pearl and Ray used the back alley behind Piedmont Fiduciary to enter the building. It was seven-thirty at night in downtown Chicago. Early September and just getting dark. The tiny alley held the trash containers of all the shops that fronted Wacker.

How they squeeze a trash truck back here? Ray wondered aloud.

Pearl cleared her throat and Ray brought his focus back to the job. He stepped to the door she indicated and tried the handle.

Locked, he whispered.

Pearl reached into her back pocket and removed her lockpick set. Ray turned his phone to flashlight mode, shining the light on the deadbolt as she leaned forward and began her work.

Thanks, hon. Her long braids fell to either side of her head, the beads clacking together softly as they swung.

My pleasure, Ray said, staring at the nape of her neck.

Pearl had claimed she could open the lock in less than a minute. It had been hard for him to take Pearl at her word. He was twenty-six and had seen a lot of bad things and a lot of bad people. A lot of liars. Hell, he was a bad person, and he knew it. He didn’t believe half of the things Pearl had said she could do. She was too young to know that much. Insurance scams, infrared cameras, picking locks. Listening to her, you’d think she was Black Widow or something.

He was distracted for a moment by an image of Pearl in the tight black jumpsuit that Black Widow wore. It was an arresting image. Those movies needed more black girls in them, that was for sure. His mind was drifting further when he heard the door click open. Shit. It didn’t mean she was telling the truth about all that other stuff, but she could actually pick a lock. His heart thumped. It could be love, or it could be the methamphetamines. Something was messing with his concentration.

They entered a dark hallway to the sound of electronic beeping. Pearl moved quickly to the glowing panel on the wall and typed something into the keypad. The beeping stopped.

How did yo—

Shhh, she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him down the hall to a set of stairs. The stairwell was your standard cinder block construction, painted a pale blue that seemed purple in the dim light. They climbed three floors and then entered a large cubicle area that was lit only by the lights on Wacker Ave. This was the kind of place that Ray had only seen on tv shows. Tv shows about people who worked in an office. No one he knew personally did this kind of shit.

Still holding his arm, Pearl pulled Ray into a dark office and shut the door behind her.

Don’t move! said a harsh, male voice.

Shit, man! Ray yelped before he could stop himself.

A light flicked on and the room was full of bright, overhead fluorescent light. Ray jumped back, breaking Pearl’s grip on his arm.

The man was tall, white, and middle-aged. He was wearing a dress-shirt and tie and would have looked completely harmless if he hadn’t been holding a gun. He stepped to the side of the desk and kept the gun pointed at Ray, his outstretched hand shaking slightly.

Pearl? both men said at exactly the same time, and with the same worried inflection.

The older man swung his gun more directly at Ray who didn’t move, just stood there with fury in his eyes, his brain clicking through the many choices he had made to get to this place, and the many things that might happen next.

Jonathan, this is Ray, said Pearl lightly, as if nothing were amiss. My brother, she added in a voice that didn’t even try to sell it. Did you bring the files?

Jonathan reached into his pocket with his free hand and removed a thumb drive. Did you bring the money?

No, Pearl smiled, I brought Ray.

Jonathan gave a knowing smirk. I knew it. That’s why I brought the gun. I knew it! No one that looks like you comes on to me. Doesn’t happen. He seemed pleased at his knowledge of his own unattractiveness. I knew it, he said again.

Is that how you see it? asked Pearl. Is that why you brought a gun? Pearl went on. Why not just call the police?

What the—

Shh, Ray. Hang tight a minute and I’ll explain everything.

Jonathan laughed. You’ll explain everything? That’s funny. Explain that you brought him here to be muscle while you double-crossed me?

Pearl sighed. Don’t act so hurt, Jonathan. Why would I trust you, the kind of shit you’re in? Oh yeah, she pressed on, seeing his surprised face, you think I didn’t do some digging when you asked for two million dollars?

Two mil—

Pearl held a finger up in Ray’s direction, but she never took her eyes off Jonathan. Listen, sweetie, a guy like you makes more in a year than Ray will make in his whole life; what do you need to be selling corporate secrets for? Gotta be something, right? She took a casual step to the side, never breaking eye contact. Ray felt transfixed, but his right knee shook nervously. It didn’t take me long to find that pretty lynx slinking around your parking garage, Pearl told Jonathan. You giving her envelopes once a week as you both got in your cars.

Jonathan clenched his jaw but said nothing.

What’s she got, photos? Don’t want your wife Sheila to know?

Whatever, spat Jonathan, though his face twitched at the sound of his wife’s name. "I never said I was perfect. You think I trusted you? Daughter of a Nigerian statesman? You weren’t even trying to make that believable. Stop! Jonathan snapped his attention back to Ray, who had taken a small step forward. Ray stopped. I didn’t believe you, Pearl, and I didn’t care if you believed me or not. I just wanted to do the deal."

You were going to take the money and not give me the files.

These files get out, they’ll know it was me. His hand was shaking more noticeably now. Had to do it. You were going to take the files and not give me the money.

Maybe—

She’ll double-cross you, too, pal, Jonathan hissed, blinking back his fear.

Pearl almost felt sorry for him. But he had done this to himself, and she was getting impatient. She radiated calm.

Ray, on the other hand, felt sweat beading on his forehead. A pressure was building in his head. He wanted to do something, anything, but all he could do was stare at the gun in the white man’s hand until suddenly Pearl broke the spell.

What’s that? she asked, pointing to her left. She stepped forward as she did it, her outstretched hand coming down fast to latch on Jonathan’s wrist. She yanked him toward her as the gun fired, punching him hard in the face with her right hand. His head snapped back and she kicked him once, forcefully, in the groin, knocking the gun from his grasp as he fell to the floor. She kicked the gun under the desk and gave a quick look back at Ray, who was standing motionless. The bullet had missed him and hit the wall behind. She knelt down and grabbed the thumb drive out of Jonathan’s hand as he lay curled in a fetal position on the carpet. She pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and tossed it to Ray.

Ray was still as a statue. The wallet bounced off his chest and hit the ground. Huffing in annoyance, Pearl picked the wallet up. She pulled several hundred-dollar bills from the wallet and three credit cards. She pushed the loot into Ray’s hand, rubbed the wallet clean with the edge of her shirt, and dropped it on the floor next to Jonathan.

What the hell’s this? asked Ray, finally breaking out of his trance.

Your pay, for helping me out. She rounded the desk and inserted the thumb drive in the desktop computer.

What did he say about two million dollars? Ray asked.

Wow, said Pearl, ignoring Ray and staring at the screen. The plans are actually on here. Stupid shit. She yanked the thumb drive free and put it in her front jeans pocket.

Let’s go. She grabbed Ray by the wrist and led him to the door.

Ray was silent until they crossed the cubicle farm and entered the stairwell.

You almost got me shot.

True. But you aren’t shot, are you, Ray?

Yeah, but, hold up. Pearl was already halfway down the stairs, her black boots echoing. She showed no signs of stopping.

What about the diamond? Ray took the stairs two at a time, catching up with her as she pushed through the door into the back hallway. The lights were off, and the only illumination was the dim red glow of the exit sign at the end of the hall.

"There is no diamond. You get that. She pointed at the money and the cards still grasped in his hand. Bet you can get ten grand out of those cards before they get shut off."

"The fuck are you talking about? What’s on that drive? Maybe I want some of that action."

Plans.

The fuck you talking about?

Plans for a solar-powered water-filtration unit.

She was almost at the door to the alley when he caught her by the elbow and swung her around.

Speak English.

Pearl pointed to the ceiling.

Those assholes up there outbid every NGO in America so that they could sell the technology to poor African countries and make their giant pile of money just a little bit more giant.

There’s no diamond? rasped Ray, deaf to her explanation.

Pearl laughed. What, you think we were just going to waltz in there and pick a million-dollar diamond off a little decorative stand and waltz out? You watch too many movies.

In the dark of the hallway, she felt Ray tighten his grip on her elbow. It was time. She felt it coming. Knowing the moment was the key to being ready.

You lied to me, about…about everything?

You’re not getting laid, either, if that’s what you mean, said Pearl, and she ducked as his right fist came through the darkness. She stomped on his foot with her heavy boot as his fist struck the hard wall.

Ray shouted in pain and Pearl elbowed him in the gut with her free arm while bringing her head up hard under his chin.

His grip tightened painfully on her elbow, but it was easy to locate his pinky and pull it back hard until it cracked.

She pulled herself free and pushed out the back door into the alley. It had become full dark while they were inside, and the only light came from a few windows on the third and fourth floors of the surrounding buildings. There was no streetlight, or at least no working streetlight. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of garbage and headed for the mouth of the alley.

She had managed a dozen steps when Ray caught her from behind, grabbing the waistband of her black pants and hauling her, for a moment, fully off the ground.

Pearl slammed to the pavement on her stomach, rolling over as Ray straddled her with his knees on either side of her hips, reaching down to wrap both hands around her neck. Pearl shoved hard and raised her left hip fast, rolling them both over until she was the one on top, though his hands still gripped her throat.

Freeze! yelled a commanding voice, and a bright flashlight illuminated them both.

Ray looked toward the light, so bright it was impossible to see who was behind it. He did, however, distinctly hear the sound of a shell being racked into a shotgun.

Pearl Tyler, said the voice, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent.

Jesus, Ray, you call the cops?

Ray looked up at Pearl in astonishment.

Anything you say, can and will—

Yeah, yeah, yeah, said Pearl, knocking away Ray’s hands and struggling to her feet. She shaded her eyes with her hand and looked toward the light. Why me? What about him?

I don’t care about him, said the deep voice from the darkness. He can fuck right off.

Pearl turned to Ray, who was also squinting at the light, completely confused.

Yeah, he began, but…

Fuck on out of here or you’re going to jail, too, said the voice.

Ray hesitated a moment longer, then, with a last look of pain, frustration, and longing, he left Pearl behind and ran off down the alley.

Pearl watched him disappear into the darkness, then turned back toward the light.

I don’t know how you got my name, she said, sweetly, but thank you. He was going to kill me.

Yeah, right.

What am I under arrest for? asked Pearl, stepping forward as the man directed the light away from her and toward the ground.

Failure to call your parents.

What? Who...Danny?

The light lowered further, and it took Pearl a minute for her eyes to adjust. Danny O’Brien opened the door to his smart little Honda and motioned her toward the passenger side. He tossed his shotgun and the flashlight into the back seat and climbed in behind the wheel. By the light of the car interior Pearl could now see his friendly, freckled face clearly.

Get in.

She hesitated. He buzzed down the passenger window and leaned toward her.

"Unless you’d like