Vegas Sunrise (18 page)

Celia took another moment to savor the situation she was in. She'd planned this little caper from the day she found out who Birch Thornton was, back in Costa Rica. She'd been clever, too, having the others on the team ask the sticky questions so Birch wouldn't think she was interested in his money. She'd written letters to everyone she could think of, to verify the Thornton wealth, saying she was a foreign student doing a paper on the gambling business in Las Vegas. The whole process had taken a full year. Her reward at the end of the year was marriage to Birch Thornton.

Playing the role of the girl next door, a.k.a. Miss Simpleton, had worked wonders. She knew everything there was to know about the Thorntons. Birch loved talking about his family, loved sharing confidences and secrets. She'd soaked it all up like a giant sponge. Sage slept like the dead, according to Birch. According to Birch, waking Sage was impossible, once he was asleep. Once, Birch had gone on to say, he, Sunny, and Billie had tied Sage's legs and hands and carried him outside and left him in the bushes. He didn't wake until eight the following morning, when he bellowed like a bull to be cut loose.

Time to get on with it. Card key in hand, Celia followed the arrow just as the elevator started upward. She slid the card key into the slot, waited a second for the small green dot to appear before she opened the door and slipped into the dark room. The elevator stopped. She heard the door open. She'd made it without a moment to spare.

Celia waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She removed her shoes and tiptoed over to the bed. Sage lay sprawled across the bed, the flowered spread in a heap at the bottom. He wore only his Jockeys. She took a moment to admire his leanness, his hard flat belly. She wondered if he was half as good as his brother in bed. Birch was wild, but she was wilder. She'd shown him things he'd only dreamed of until he became a sex addict. She knew how to hold him in line, though. When he did something she didn't like she withdrew her favors until he made things right. That was in Costa Rica. Those tricks didn't work here in Vegas. Other tricks were required here in this fast-track paradise of neon light. That was okay—she knew every trick in the book and then some.

Celia reached behind her to pull at the zipper of her dress. It made a slithering sound when it fell to the floor. The lacy underwire bra and string bikini made no sound as they fell on top of the sparkly dress. She moved closer to the bed, trying to figure out the best camera angles. All she needed were four shots. One with Sage's head between her breasts, one with her on top of him, up high and one low. The last one would be the clincher. She wouldn't have to disturb him at all for that shot. She could flip him over on his back, strip off his underwear, and get the other three shots in a matter of seconds. Her adrenaline kicked in when she picked up the phone to dial Jeff's extension. “Now,” she whispered.

She was perched on the side of the bed when Lassiter let himself into the room. Celia turned on all the lights, her eyes never leaving Sage's body. He didn't stir. “Let's make this quick.”

“Jesus H Christ,” was all Lassiter could say repeatedly as he snapped the pictures with his Polaroid. “Let me take a couple of extras just in case. I have to tell you, Celia, this is one obscene shot. Good, but obscene. I really didn't think it was possible to get a full shot of your face, his face, your breasts and his dick all in one shot. We need a couple of these.”

“Shut up and be done with it already.”

Five minutes later, Celia was completely dressed. She turned off all the lights. She waited until Jeff left, then waited five more minutes before she opened the door. She looked to the left and right before she stepped into the hall to head for the elevator.

“A very productive night's work,” she murmured on the ride down to the lobby.

Ruby Thornton peered between the leaves of a palm tree. A quickie? Obviously. She watched as Celia left the building by the hotel entrance. For all her efforts the only thing she knew for certain was that Celia Thornton had gone to Room 1611. She'd followed the young woman's perfume trail that ended at the room registered to Sage Thornton. The only thing she didn't understand was why Jeff Lassiter took the elevator to the sixteenth floor shortly after Celia. She almost choked when the word “threesome” ricocheted inside her head.

“I need a drink,” she muttered.

“Is anything wrong, Miss Thornton? You look like something's bothering you,” Neal said.

“Nothing's wrong. I'm leaving now.”

“It's a long ride out to the ranch. Would you like me to get someone to drive you? It is close to three-thirty. I worry about women out alone at this time of night.”

“Perhaps an escort to my car. Thank you for the offer. I'll keep my doors locked.”

Neal watched Ruby leave. He knew something had gone on in the casino. Something he wasn't privy to. It irked him that he had no proof, no one to blame. If Ash Thornton were here, he'd have the answer within minutes. He sighed. As much as he wanted to be like Ash Thornton, he wasn't ever going to reach that status. All he could do was keep his eyes and ears open and deal with the real problems that surfaced every five minutes. He had to deal in facts and what his eyes saw and what he could prove if it came to a court of law.

 

Celia let herself into the small one-bedroom apartment. It was a rathole pure and simple. She looked around at the Goodwill furniture, the threadbare carpets, the crusty lampshades on rusty lamps. The only thing that could be said about the apartment was it came furnished. There was no way she was sleeping here. She would never put an ounce of food in the filthy refrigerator. She wouldn't even sit at the table to eat take out food in cartons. Her bags were still packed. This place was for derelicts. She was far from a derelict. Right now she had $17,000. She could go to any hotel on the Strip and that's exactly what she was going to do the moment she checked the messages on her answering machine.

Careful not to touch anything, Celia pressed the Play button. She smiled when she heard Birch's voice. The smile left her face as she listened to her husband tell her he was dining out with Sunny's therapist. “I should be home early, Celia, if you want to call. We had a good day today. My uncles work like Trojans. Sunny is really doing well, and so is Harry. That's why Libby feels she can leave them for a quick bite. All any of us have eaten for the past week is fast food. It gets to you after a while. Have you talked to Sage or Mom? I'll wait up till midnight my time. If I don't hear from you tonight, call me tomorrow. Hope the job's going well.”

Celia erased the message and rewound the tape. “Dinner with Libby Maxwell, eh. As if I care? Still, tomorrow I'll have to offer up a jealous protest, I guess.”

Bags in hand, Celia walked down the three flights of steps to her car. She threw the canvas bags into the trunk. “Riviera, here I come. Clean sheets, a clean bathroom, and Room Service. What more could a girl ask for?”

Fanny woke slowly, aware that she'd slept in her clothes. She rubbed her eyes until she was fully awake, a deep, gut-wrenching moan escaping her lips when she realized she hadn't been dreaming. It was all real. Marcus was in the hospital, and his chances of recovering were slim to none. Her children had deserted her, and she was alone. Had she dreamed that Billie and Bess were here? She strained to hear any sound in the house that would indicate her two best friends in the world had come to her aid. What could they do? What could anyone do?

Were the blinds and drapes closed, or was it dark outside? It must be evening since a night-light glowed in the hallway. When had she come home? Yesterday, today? What time was it? What day was it?

Fanny rolled over and buried her head in the pillow next to her. The pillow smelled like Marcus's aftershave lotion. She rolled over and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Maybe she should take a shower and add another towel to the pile on the bathroom floor.

Merciful God, who
was
this creature staring at her in the mirror? Fanny backed away from the vanity mirror to sit on the edge of the bathtub. Her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking, she cried. How had her life come to this? Weary to her bones, she stood and stared again at her reflection for a long time. Her fingers were clumsy when she opened the medicine cabinet. She looked at the array of prescription bottles lined up on the top shelf; some hers, some belonging to Marcus. Most were antibiotics and muscle relaxants. Somewhere, though, there was a bottle of sleeping pills John Noble had prescribed for her when Ash and Simon died. They were so strong she'd never taken any after the first one because it had left her groggy for days. She couldn't remember now why she had kept them instead of flushing them down the drain.

Fanny poked behind the talcum and Vicks VapoRub until she found the round squat container. Nine pills. Should she take them all or just half of them? Would taking all of them at once make them work quicker? Would she die with five as opposed to nine? Who cared? Why was she even worrying about the amount? She'd take them all and go back to bed. She'd go to sleep and never wake up. She brightened momentarily when she thought about seeing Ash again. He'd have a fit if she took the pills. He'd fought for his life like a tiger, and here she was taking her own life because she couldn't cope anymore. Ash would be ashamed of her.

The bright red pills in her hand, Fanny sat back down on the edge of the tub, tears rolling down her cheeks. Such a cheerful color. Red was a wake-up color. Why weren't these pills gray or some dismal brown color? She slid from the edge of the tub to the floor, hugging her knees, her head bowed. In her life she'd never been this tired, this weary.

“Listen, Fanny, this is shit for the birds. Pull up your socks and get moving. You're giving everyone the edge here. You know I taught you better than that. What the hell is a handful of pills going to do for you? Losers take the easy way out. I never thought you were a loser, Fanny. Me, yeah. Never you. It's not time for you to come here. You were never a sniveler. Are you listening to me, Fanny?”

“Ash, is that you? Are you saying you don't want me there, Ash? Did Simon tell you to say that to me? Or Sallie? I can't do this anymore. So what if I am a loser. Why should you care? You're there. I'm here. So what if I don't want to be here anymore. Are you listening to me, Ash? So what, Ash?”

“Because I care. You gotta be ready for something like this. You still have things to do and places to go. I know all about your future. This isn't your time, Fanny. Put those damn pills back in the bottle or flush them. What gives you the right to be so damn selfish? You have to think about the kids and Marcus. I shouldn't tell you this, but I'm going to tell you anyway. I never could keep a secret from you. They're getting ready for him. Don't worry about the plug. He's coming on his own. I'll take him under my wing. No pun intended. It'll be okay, Fanny. Don't you trust me?”

“Why should I trust you? Look what you did to me all those years. I remember all those things. I remember everything. I think you need to spell out what you mean. I want to be sure I understand. Who's getting ready? I wasn't planning on pulling any plugs. Why did you even say that to me? How do I know it will be okay? Just because you sprouted wings doesn't mean you know everything. I want some proof? How are you going to do that, Ash?”

“I thought we made our peace at the end. You know what, Fanny, you love Marcus, but you aren't IN love with him. Both of us know I'm the only one you were ever IN love with. It's his time, Fanny. When it's your time nothing in your world can stop it. Marcus is going to like it up here. You can rest easy knowing I'm the one who will take care of him. Stop with that martyr shit and get on with your life. I hate it when you drag your feet. You need to wash those towels or they'll mildew.”

“What else do you hate about me, Ash? I dream about you all the time. Why is that? Another thing, let me worry about my laundry.”

“Fanny, Fanny, Fanny. I'm the father of your children and you were and still are IN love with me even if you won't admit it. I've been watching over you. I'm with you in spirit every hour of the day. I've watched you gradually lose your edge. You break my heart. You're starting to make mistakes that are going to do you and the kids in. You know what I'm talking about. Sometimes, Fanny, you are dumb as dirt. I told you not to get involved with Jeff. Why in the hell didn't you listen to me? Ruby is one thing. Jeff is something else. You can trust Ruby. I was wrong about her, but I wasn't wrong about Jeff. What's so damn hard about admitting you're wrong? The earth doesn't tilt on its axis, the oceans don't overflow. Life goes on.”

“I didn't listen because I'm stupid just the way you said I was. What was I supposed to do, Ash? You up and died on me. You shot Simon. I have to live with that. That left a mark on me. Did you think about that before you pulled the trigger? I know you said you did it for me. Knowing that doesn't make it any easier. I didn't want to deal with problems. Hiring Jeff seemed like the logical thing to do. You always said the business stays in the family. I followed your rule. Jeff carries Thornton blood, so that makes him family. Why is Ruby okay and not Jeff? If I take these pills, I won't have to worry about him or anyone else.”

“That's a dumb-ass attitude and not even worthy of discussion. Get rid of those pills NOW. Our kids need you, Fanny. You're screwing up. I hate it when you screw up. I want to believe you're perfect. Life is just too damn short to sweat the small stuff. You need to get on the ball and take charge. I want your word that you're going to get rid of those pills. I mean it, Fanny.”

“Ash, wait, don't go.”

“You don't need me, Fanny. You just needed to hear me tell you what you already know. When you need me the most, I'll be there for you. Listen. You made it bearable for me there at the end. I'm never going to forget that. I want your promise, Fanny, that you're going to do what I expect you to do. I want to hear the words. Say them. Out loud.”

“I hate your guts, Ash.”

“Ah, now that's the Fanny I know. Come on, flush those pills. All nine of them. I'm counting.”

“I really do hate your guts.”

“You wish. I miss you. It was good there at the end with us. It will be again when the time is right. It's just not your time right now. It is Marcus's time, though. Is there anything special you'd like me to do for him when he gets here?”

“Get out of my dream, Ash. I know this is a dream, and you aren't fooling me for one minute. If this isn't a dream, you better give me a sign right now. Besides, I always forget my dreams when I wake up. Just out of curiosity, Ash, exactly where are you? Are you, you know, up there or are you . . . ah . . . somewhere else?”

“It's not a dream. I'm right here. Open your eyes. You look like shit, Fanny.”

Fanny opened her eyes. Ash Thornton was standing in the doorway, surrounded by a bright silver light. “Ash, you're walking.”

“When I'm not flying. There is a lot to be said for this place.”

“Do I really look like shit?”

“Yeah, but we both know it's a temporary thing. You were always good at fixing yourself up. How's Jake and Sunny, Fanny?”

“Don't you know? I thought . . .”

“There's a protocol up here that you have to go through. I don't have enough seniority yet. I got one shot, Fanny. I knew you needed me, so I chose you. You can thank me by doing the right thing.”

“Jake's fine, Ash. He talks about you all the time. He's never going to forget you. We won't allow it. Sunny's doing great. Okay, look, Ash, I'm flushing the pills, all nine of them. Ash?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks. You're right about me loving you. If you ever . . . appear and tell anyone, I'll deny it. Swear on Jake that you'll take care of Marcus. If I know that, I can let him go.”

“You have my word, Fanny.”

“Ash, are you happy up there. You know, really happy?”

“I miss all of you. I wish things had turned out differently. Yeah, I'm happy. When it's your time to come here, I'll be waiting, so don't be afraid.”

“Okay, Ash. What should I say? Have a good life? Enjoy your time up there? What?”

“Good-bye is just fine.”

Fanny woke. It took her a minute to realize where she was. She looked around, her eyes frantic. How long was it going to take before she stopped dreaming of Ash? Would the dreams ever stop? This one had seemed so real. She struggled to her feet remembering what she'd been about to do. She looked around for the sleeping pills. Where were they? She dropped to her knees to scour the white tile floor. There was no sign of the nine red capsules. Her eyes wide, Fanny lowered the seat of the toilet and sat down. Did she wake in her dream and flush the pills? Or did someone else flush them for her? Was that someone Ash? She looked at the vanity, at the empty pill bottle. She reached for the bottle and tossed it into the wastepaper basket under the vanity. She hadn't really lied to Ash. Normally she never remembered her dreams. For some reason, though, she always remembered, in detail, every dream Ash was in.

An hour later, her thoughts in turmoil, Fanny called the medical center for an update on Marcus's condition. Satisfied that it was the same, Fanny showered, dressed, and had the table set in the kitchen. Bacon sizzled on the stove. Coffee bubbled in the pot. A bowl of golden scrambled eggs waited on the counter for Billie and Bess.

Fanny Thornton Reed was back among the living.

 

Ruby Thornton sat in her cluttered office, her mind whirling. The telephone glared at her. Iris was waiting for her call. What to say and how to say it so Iris didn't go into some kind of marital shock or whatever it was wives did when they thought their husbands were cheating on them. She'd stake her life, Thornton Chickens, and everything else she held dear, that Sage Thornton was a victim of some first-class chicanery. Did they still use the word chicanery today? Any minute now she was going to get a killer headache.

Family. Fanny was right about family when she said it wasn't all sit-down Sunday dinners, holiday get-togethers, smiles, and laughter. The phone was in her hand a moment later. She dialed Iris's number and wasn't surprised when Iris picked up the phone on the first ring. “Iris, honey, Sage stayed in the hotel last night. I saw him go up in the elevator. I followed Celia and she won tons of money last night. It was late when she left. I asked her to have a drink but she said she had to sub this morning. I called the school a little while ago, and she's teaching fifth-grade history. She didn't lie about that. Your husband looked incredibly tired and weary. That's it, sweetie. I'm going over to the offices because I need to talk to Billie about the costumes for the restaurants. I'll see Sage, and if I find out anything, I'll call you. Make some of those peanut butter cookies in case I decide to drive up the mountain this afternoon. Did you sleep at all? Then take a nap. I'll talk to you later.”

She hadn't lied. What she'd failed to do was tell Iris all the facts because . . . seeing something didn't necessarily mean . . . what? Sage and Celia were not having an affair, of that she was certain. She'd simply evaded and avoided telling Iris everything she'd seen and suspected.

Ruby packed her briefcase. She looked around the office that had once been her father's. She hadn't changed anything. The furnishings were old, comfortable, and downright ugly. Why in the world did she ever think she was going to be able to leave here and do what she wanted to do?
Because hope springs eternal
, she thought. She'd worked nonstop for two days, putting the wheels in motion for Birch's free-range chickens, and it looked like the birds were going to fly. More money in the Thornton coffers.

Two years ago Fanny Thornton had walked into these very offices and said, “Ruby, I have a fabulous idea for you: fast-food chicken restaurants. Fast-food chicken! Think about it! You know, like those burger places, but chicken instead. People are becoming very health conscious these days. A couple of ‘secret' recipes and it's off and running. Sunny's Togs and Rainbow Babies are always doing marketing studies to see what the latest trends are. Baby boomers, Ruby. They don't have time to cook. We're lucky they have time to shop for kids' clothes. That's one of the reasons we branched out into the catalog business. We have the names, Ruby. Millions of names. A restaurant in every city. Food priced right. A whole meal or a nutritious sandwich. I know just the right advertising firm for you too, Bernstein and Bernstein. They kicked us over the top. Think about it, Ruby. No matter what, those chickens aren't going to go away. All you need is a really clever name, some terrific costumes—and Billie can do those for you with her eyes closed—the secret recipe, and you're set. Write this down as I read it off to you. Ash always said when you take the time to write something on paper, it stays with you opposed to simply hearing it. Burger chains grew an average of 6.9% last year. The chicken chains saw revenues rise 10.9%. The reason for this is their dinners. Burgers have fat in them. Give your customers home-style food and you'll be a viable contender in the $7.5-
billion
-a-year quick-service chicken market.”