Bamboozle!

Dana Quigly Thornbladt sits hunched over a strange laptop computer, the room in darkness save for the light dancing across the screen sending eerie shadows over her face. Under her thin cotton robe, she is naked; her feet are bare. Her lip is raw. The chill creeping in through the half-open window bites at her flesh raising tiny pimples. Yet she is sweating. Password? Why no password into his computer but a password into BAcct? A smile crept across her lips. This was better than Party Bridge. Beads of sweat began dripping into her eyes. Damn! Again and again her fingers flew over the keyboard. All of a sudden, Bingo! The screen jumped: Account balance: $21,792,500.00! Ouch! She almost screamed. Shit. Her lip! The son of a bitch. She ran her tongue over her lip tasting the blood. Christ! First National Bank of Grand Cayman! Grand Cayman! The Club was a mob front. A long-harbored dream of revenge takes shape. A Bamboozle! One of the coups she executed at the bridge table. For it to succeed, to tap into the money, she'd need a patsy, a guy with a boat. And so begins a tale of double-dealing, Dana charting each step on coups she pulled off at the bridge table and all but ends when the tables are turned, when she realizes she could have lost something she always dreamed of finding, and it is then she pulls one more trick from her sleeve.