Shell Game (Stand Alone 2) by Joseph Badal

group.
    She rifled through the stack of mail and nearly shouted for joy when she saw an envelope with Carrie’s handwriting. She rushed out to her car, throwing the rest of the mail on the front passenger seat and slicing open the letter.
    Dear Mom: I’m sorry I haven’t written more often, but it’s not really practical. Even if I wrote a letter, there would be no way to mail it.
    Katherine felt a pain in her chest. My God, she thought, what sort of hellhole is my daughter in? She continued reading.
    The good news is that my assignment is complete. I am being treated for some intestinal bug you can’t avoid where I was and I’ll be released in about a week from the Army hospital in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. I’ll be on the first plane back to the real world. I should be home when Betsy’s baby arrives.
    I’ve got a thirty-day leave scheduled, before I report for duty at the Pentagon. Believe it or not, I’m coming home for that leave, and then I’ll be at the Puzzle Palace for at least twenty-four months. Think about weekends in Cape May. I can already taste the linguini and clams at Cucina Rosa.
    Anyway, that’s all for now. I feel rumbling going on in my nether regions, which means I’ll have to make a run to the john any moment now. No need to worry. A bit of antibiotic and lots of fluids and I’ll be as good as new in a couple days.
    Please hug Eddie and Betsy for me and give them my love.
    Love, Carrie
    Katherine knew her daughter well enough to know she was downplaying her illness, but couldn’t help but feel relieved that Carrie was back in civilization, so to speak. She couldn’t wait to tell Edward his sister would be home soon. Then Katherine came down from her high, thinking about how Carrie’s homecoming would be in the midst of the crisis with the bank. It wouldn’t be much of a leave for her, with her mother and brother tied up with problems at the company. But at least she’d be safe.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
    Edward felt beat up as he and Nick walked out of Pennsylvania Industrial Bank’s main office on City Line Avenue at 5 p.m. The bank’s president, Victoria Watts, had been courteous and quite evidently embarrassed by the bank’s present circumstances. She was nowhere near as candid as Van Snowden, but Edward could fill in the blanks. She did mention they had been required to raise their core capital and risk-based capital ratios, and they were not considering any new commercial real estate loans for the foreseeable future. She also told them U.S. banks had posted their biggest drop in lending since 1942.
    “You know, I’ve got a thought,” Edward said after he pulled out of the bank parking lot. “Let’s call Ernest Deakyne at Philadelphia Savings & Trust and ask him if he has an interest in financing our real estate. If not, we won’t waste his time or ours by keeping our appointment tomorrow.”
    “Good idea,” Nick said. “I’m getting the impression these bankers would be thrilled to have our business, as long as we don’t ask for any credit.”
    Edward laughed. “I shouldn’t see any humor in this, but I’m beginning to feel like Alice in the looking glass. Surreal.” He handed his Blackberry to Nick. “Pull up Deakyne’s number. Let’s call him right now.”
    Nick found the banker’s name and scrolled down to his office number. He listened to the car’s Bluetooth system dial the number.
    “Philadelphia Savings & Trust,” a woman said. “Mr. Deakyne’s office.”
    “Hello, this is Edward Winter of Winter Enterprises. I have an appointment with Mr. Deakyne tomorrow and need to talk with him for a minute.”
    “Yes, Mr. Winter. This is Jeanne, Mr. Deakyne’s assistant. I made the appointment for you. Can you hold a second?”
    Edward and Nick listened to the canned music on the bank’s telephone system for about thirty seconds before Deakyne came on the line. “Ernest Deakyne.”
    “Hello, Mr. Deakyne. Edward Winter calling.”
    “Mr. Winter, good to hear from