Dying for the Highlife by Dave Stanton Read Free Book Online Page A

a neatly manicured woman, if you know what I mean. If you’ve been an erotic dancer, or a model, that may help your chances. Please bring no baggage, and a heavy appetite for sexual adventure. If you are bi, and have friends, that’s a plus.
    Feeling confident his love life was poised to take an exciting new turn, Jimmy ordered a six-pack and a pepperoni pizza from room service.
It’s good to be me
, he thought, and settled in for dinner before another night at the Mirage’s blackjack tables.

8
    H er plan was full of holes, and Heather realized it wouldn’t do. But she proposed it to Eric anyway, hoping the prospect of a few million bucks might spur a creative process in his brain. Eric was basically a hot-headed loser, but Heather had seen him become plenty focused whenever a shortcut to money presented itself. But so far, Eric had offered nothing of value in conceiving a decent plan to find Jimmy Homestead and extract a chunk of his fortune.
    Heather’s original plan was meager. It consisted of three elements:
    – Find Jimmy Homestead.
    – Put a gun to his head and convince him he would be killed if he didn’t deliver the cash.
    – Get away to the Bahamas with the money.
    Eric yelled at Heather and pointed out how stupid and lacking in detail the plan was. He seemed more interested in berating her rather than offering anything constructive. Recently, Eric really seemed to get off on ripping into her. She reacted to his criticism calmly; it was his way of projecting the frustration he felt within himself, she knew. But that didn’t make it any less humiliating.
    That afternoon, after Eric left for the gym in a huff, one of Heather’s old girlfriends from high school called. She was a serial dater and had spotted Jimmy Homestead’s Internet dating profile. Heather located it and had a moment of inspiration. The pieces of the puzzle then began to come together very quickly. She thought it through and approached Eric the next day.
    “Eric, listen to me,” she said. He was in his usual position, reclined on the sofa with his feet on the coffee table. “Here is how we find him; all I have to do is respond to his site and set up a date. Then we can get the money out of him.”
    Eric arched his eyebrows, apparently surprised she had proposed something with promise. Heather handed him a printed copy of Jimmy’s personal profile.
    “Christ, what a slime ball,” Eric said when he finished reading it. He stared out into space for half a minute, and when he looked back at her, his eyes looked smaller and gleamed with an unusual intensity.
    “Okay, here’s how we work this,” he said. “You respond to his profile and send him some pictures from your talent book—you got digital copies of those, right? The only thing I’m worried about is if he’ll recognize you.”
    “It’s been almost twenty years.”
    Eric shot her a reproachful look, as if he hadn’t forgiven her for a one-night stand she had when she was a teenager, before she ever met Eric.
    “Well, hopefully he’s fried enough brain cells, so let’s figure he won’t know it’s you. I don’t think we’ll have anything to worry about. I’m sure you don’t look anything like you did when you spread your legs for him.”
    “Well, I had my boobs done.”
    “You also ain’t a teenager anymore.”
    Heather bit her tongue.
    Eric stood and began pacing. “Now, the goal is to get him stripped. Tell him you want to blow him or whatever—just get his clothes off. And that’s when I’ll burst into the room.”
    “And then?”
    “First I’m gonna slap him around a bit, just to scare him. Then you’re going to accuse him of trying to rape you. I’ll go into a rage and threaten to kill him for that. Then you’ll say, ‘Let’s call the cops instead.’ Once he’s in a panic over the mess he’s in, we’ll offer him an easy way out: pay us three million in cash.”
    “And what if he says no?”
    “Then I’ll break his fuckin’ arm. He’ll