Double Blind (36 page)

“I’m coming with you,” he insisted.

“Sam,” Randy said, getting impatient, “I seriously will not be long.”

“I’m coming with you,” Sam said, the bit between his teeth now, and Randy gave up and headed for the doors, Sam still clutching his hand.

He stepped out into the open air, felt the open space and the rush sweep around him, and Randy took his first clear breath since the therapist’s office. He took a full minute to look out over the Strip, to soak it all in, to just be, and then, when he felt even enough, he turned to Sam.

Sam had his eyes shut tight, and he was breathing a little fast, but considering how he usually acted when they came up here, this was a real personal triumph for him.

“Peaches,” Randy asked, “why did you come up here with me?”

“Because you went into the appointment with me,” he said, eyes still closed. Then he opened them and looked up at Randy. “Thank you.”

Randy nodded gruffly. “Sure.”

And then Sam said, “I want you to come again. Please.”

Randy stiffened, losing everything coming up to the observation tower had given him. “Sam—”

“I want to hear more about your uncle,” he said, riding over Randy. “It helped me, Randy. A lot. I don’t know why, but it did.” He squeezed Randy’s hand. “Why didn’t you tell me before? Why didn’t you tell me that you understood?”

Randy looked out over the Strip, trying to let himself sail away over it. “Because I don’t like to talk about it, Sam.”

It was cruel. He knew that. He should be a better friend and say yes, he’d do it. But he didn’t want to. This was the place where he would not go, not even for Peaches. He didn’t care that Sam was vulnerable and that this would hurt him a little. He’d just have to cope.

“Please,” Sam said. “Please do this for me, Randy.” He squeezed again. “And for you.”

Randy shut his eyes.

“I won’t go if you don’t go with me,” Sam said.

Randy glared at him. “Dirty pool, Peaches.”

Sam gave him a wry smile. “You’re the one who taught me how to play.”

That was true, and it made Randy smile, too, despite the fact that Sam was sticking knives in him. He sighed and ran his hand over his face. “Sam, I don’t go there. I talked about him a little, once—drunk—with Mitch. And that’s it.”

“So that’s how you think I should be with my mom?”

Randy swore under his breath and looked up at the bright blue endless sky above his head. He also watched the Big Shot ride slide up the pole and heard the distant screams of the riders as they shot up a thousand feet up into the air.

“You play really, really fucking dirty pool, Peaches,” he said at last.

“So you’ll come with me?” Sam pressed.

Randy watched the riders slide the rest of the way down the pole, leaving it empty and alone against the bright blue. He sighed, lowered his head, and nodded.

Sam hugged him, kissed his cheek, then dared a furtive look out over the edge before shutting his eyes again and waiting until Randy was done.

Randy took his fucking time, not leaving until Sam was twitching and shuddering from all the swaying and wind. Because Randy
did
teach him how to play dirty pool.

Ethan
went to the chain pet store on Rainbow Boulevard, hoping to find something to help him keep Salomé with him at the casino.

He couldn’t explain even to himself why he could not leave the kitten alone. Logic said that she would get used to it and comfort herself, but all Ethan could think was that she clearly didn’t want to, and he couldn’t bear thinking about her sitting in Randy’s house all alone, mewing plaintively with no one to snuggle with. And he reasoned that if people could carry around those tiny little dogs in purses, couldn’t he take a cat around in a casino? Of course, he also knew he couldn’t take her everywhere, that at some point he honestly would have to leave her alone.

Ethan wandered the aisles of the store, trying to find something, but nothing leapt out at him. All he saw were toys and bags of food and cozy places to sleep. Salomé, as if sensing his distress, leaned up to nuzzle his chin.

“Can I help you?”

Turning to the sales associate, Ethan pasted on a smile. A pretty young woman with long blond hair wearing the blue smock that marked her as an employee was looking up expectantly at him. When she saw Salomé, her expression melted into adoration.

“Oh, she’s
precious,
” the associate said, stroking Salomé’s head. She glanced up at Ethan. “What’s her name?”

“Salomé,” Ethan said, liking the associate already. He glanced at her name badge, which read, “Crystal.” Ethan watched Crystal fawn over his kitten for moment, trying to read her like he knew Randy would, but all he could tell was that she really liked kittens. He decided that was enough. “I’m trying to find some way to carry her around with me. She doesn’t like to be left alone.”

To his surprise, Crystal stood up and gave him a stern look. “You can’t take her everywhere. Most places aren’t going to allow kittens inside, however cute they are. And you absolutely cannot, ever, not even for a few minutes, leave her in your car.
Not ever.
”

Ethan straightened without realizing he’d done so, blinking at the force of Crystal’s scolding. “I won’t,” he promised, hoping this made her back down.

She did, but just a little, and she kept lecturing as she led Ethan down the aisle. “She’s going to have to learn how to stay alone, unless you plan on only ever going to the pet store and the park. But you can make it easier for her by having things she likes. Cats don’t need a lot of toys, but they do like cozy places to sleep. She seems pretty affectionate, so she might prefer blankets that smell like you. But you want to consider a pet bed, something that makes her feel secure. Cats like to hide in places that are closed-in and secluded. You can make her one with the right setup. Do you have a scratching post yet?”

Ethan shook his head. “I didn’t think she’d need one when she was so little.”

This earned him another quelling look. “She needs it now especially, so you can train her.”

Ethan brightened. “So you
can
train cats?”

“Oh, absolutely! They don’t respond the same way as dogs because cats aren’t pack animals, but they still respond to rewards and stimuli. And I suggest you only use positive reinforcement training, especially if you’re so sensitive about her you can’t even bear to leave her alone.” She reached up into a display and pulled down a blue plastic object the size of a fat clothespin. When she pinched the yellow button on the top, it made a sharp
click.
“I suggest a clicker. You use it to signal that she’s done something you like—get her to associate it with good things. When you click it and she does what you want her to do, she gets a treat. You’ll want to work with a target, too—not your hand, because it’s too big. The end of a wand or something small that she can touch with her nose. Start there, and it won’t be long before she gets the association. Just never call her with the clicker to punish her.
Never.
”

Ethan nodded, but most of this was sailing over his head. Crystal saw this and reached up on the shelf again.

“This book can get you started,” she said, “but what you really want is one of the online communities. I can give you the names of some good ones, if you like.”

“That would be great.” Ethan looked down at Salomé, at her precious little face, and remembered his present dilemma. “But I honestly can’t bear to leave her alone. She cries, and it breaks my heart.”

Crystal smiled wryly, but Ethan could tell she secretly approved of his devotion. “Well, there’s one other way. I assume, since you already have one cat, that you either own your home or rent somewhere that allows pets?”

Ethan paused. “Actually, I’m living with someone for now.”

“Someone who likes you?” Crystal asked.

Ethan considered this. Well, why not? What else was he supposed to call Randy? “He’s my boyfriend,” he admitted, feeling a ridiculous thrill at the admission.

“Does your boyfriend like cats?” Crystal’s smile was a little wicked. “Or does he like you so much that it doesn’t matter?”

Ethan grinned back. “Both, maybe. I think. I hope.”

Crystal started down the aisle and headed toward the back of the store. “Then what you really want is this.”

She led Ethan around the corner to a wall display of nine windows. Each and every one was full of cats.

Ethan balked. “I don’t think—” he began, and then got a good look at the adult calico with a bent ear looking out at him. Her shoulders were hunched, her head was bent, and her whole existence seemed lost and forlorn.

“
Oh.
” Ethan started toward her. She looked up at him, blinked, then hesitantly pawed at the glass. Ethan felt his heart clench.

“That’s Daisy.” Crystal patted him on the arm. “Would you like to meet her?”

“Yes,” Ethan said, and knew then that it was already over.

He just hoped Randy really did love him, because otherwise he’d probably kill him.

Ethan
pretended that he was not already adopting Daisy by declaring that he was “thinking about it.” Of course, he’d also left Salomé at the store’s boarding department for the afternoon, where the indomitable Crystal had arranged to have Daisy and Salomé put together as a trial run. When Ethan had left, the cat and the kitten had been curled up together in the ultra-soft plush pink cat bed he’d purchased and were grooming one another contentedly.

He really, really hoped that Randy loved him. A lot.

With Salomé properly settled, however, Ethan felt comfortable heading over to the casino, and there he confronted the real demon of the day: Billy Herod.

He had a vague memory that Billy had told him to “stop by the office Monday,” but that was the best sense of instruction that he had, and even that he couldn’t say for certain had actually happened, so he decided he would start by doing that. If Billy wasn’t there, he’d figure out a new plan from there. But before he could even start looking for the owner’s office, a vaguely familiar man came up to him, mouth set in a grim line. Ethan worried it was someone he drunkenly insulted the other night.

But the man only dug into his pocket and pulled out a stack of chips and thrust them at Ethan.

“Here,” he said, gruffly. “Your money from the bet.”

Bet? Ethan frowned at the chips, turning the top one over in his hand, watching the
Billy’s!
logo rotate. “Thank you,” he said, because it seemed safest.

“I wasn’t trying to run out on you,” he said, sounding nervous as well as gruff now. “I just didn’t work Saturday night, and you two never came back.” He paused, then added, “Tell Mr. Crabtree, too, yeah? Tell him I was honest by his man.”

Ethan looked up at him again, and at last he placed him. “You’re the bartender from the first night, right?”

The man nodded. “Scully’s my name, sir.” He grinned reluctantly. “If I’d known you were with Crabtree, I’d never have bet against you. Nothing personal, okay?”

Ethan nodded, still feeling like he was missing a great deal of information to have this conversation, but by this time the man had mumbled his goodbye and was hurrying off into the casino. And it was then, finally, that Ethan realized that the bet this man was referring to was the kiss bet, which he had lost. Which this man thought he had won. Which meant that Randy had told him that this was the case. Which meant Randy had lied.

Grimacing, Ethan pocketed the chips and resumed his hunt for Billy’s office.

With some trial and error Ethan made his way up through the maze of offices on the fifth floor—he stopped by Crabtree’s, but the gangster was still not around—and eventually he found an efficient-looking woman at a desk. She was of an indeterminate age, not young but not yet old. She was professionally and elegantly dressed in a plum-colored suit coat and skirt, her hair swept up in an efficient bun. She looked, in fact, like a less siren-like version of Joan Harris from
Mad Men
. When she saw Ethan approach, she looked at him severely over the top of her glasses.

“May I help you?” she asked, in a tone that suggested she doubted this very much.

“I’m looking for Mr. Herod,” Ethan said, then added, “I’m Ethan Ellison.”

At the mention of his name, the woman’s expression changed from severe to glowing. “Mr. Ellison! But of course.” She stood and held out her hand. “My name is Sarah Reynolds. I’m the office manager for the casino. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“From Billy?” Ethan asked, confused. How drunk had he been, exactly?

Sarah laughed. “No. From Mr. Crabtree, of course.” She stepped away from her desk and led him to a potted silk plant covering a large portion of the wall beside her desk. “Right this way, Mr. Ellison.”

“Please, call me Ethan,” Ethan said, but he was frowning as he watched the office manager struggle with the plant. “Can I help you with that?”

She beamed at him and rose. “Please. Just shift it about a foot back, would you? There, yes, just like that. Thank you.” She waited until Ethan rose, then smiled at him in thanks before pushing against a panel in the wall. It swung open.

“A secret room?” Ethan asked, then felt foolish when the door only revealed a narrow closet with shelves full of, of all things, towels.