Vegas Sunrise (43 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Vegas Sunrise
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“Celia left.”

“Where'd she go?”

“Down the mountain. She said one or the other of us should file for divorce. She's going to L.A. She didn't say anything about being pregnant. Maybe Lassiter lied. For some reason I think he was telling the truth.”

Sage sat down on the rocking chair. His thoughts took him to the brown manila envelope that had arrived at sunrise while he was in Vermont. The private detective's report on Celia. He hadn't opened it and would probably never open it because he'd stepped over the line into his brother's private life. At four o'clock in the morning he'd crept downstairs and locked the envelope in the safe. One of these days he'd destroy it.

“What are you going to do?”

“I guess I'll take a page out of the old man's book and put it behind me. Life goes on. I'll go back to Atlantic City and when the casino is done, I'll run it.”

“Libby?”

“Libby will get on with her life. She's going to New York tomorrow.”

“Wait a minute. I don't understand. If Celia is going to divorce you, that means you're free to be with Libby.”

“She won't see it that way.”

Sage's eyes narrowed. “You're going to let both of them walk out of your life. Just like that.”

“Isn't that what the old man would do?”

“Yeah, but you aren't Dad. You have choices, options here. It's up to you, Birch.”

“I feel like my world caved in. Look. I don't want to talk about this. Let's go get that pie.”

“You're just going to let Celia walk down the mountain.”

“That's what our old man would have done. It's over, forget it.”

“Sure, Birch, whatever you say. I'll meet you downstairs.”

The moment Sage heard his brother's footsteps on the stairs, he went into his room, closed the door and dialed Chue's number. Charlie, Chue's seventeen-year-old grandson answered the phone. “Do me a favor, Charlie, take your grandfather's pickup and give Mrs. Thornton a ride to town.” He listened a moment and then laughed. “I happen to know Iris made two extra pies for you guys. Your grandfather will bring them down later. Thanks, Charlie.”

 

Fanny slipped into her coat. “We had such a good time. Invite us again, Iris.”

Iris laughed. “The door's always open.” She hugged her mother-in-law.

“Did you and Sage iron everything out,” Fanny whispered.

“Yes. I was so stupid. He couldn't believe I would think such awful things. Making up was wonderful. Being separated for eight days was pure hell.”

“I'm glad it worked out. I knew it would. What happened to Celia?”

“Sage said she and Birch had a tiff, and she walked down the mountain.”

“And Birch let her!”

“Sage called Charlie to give her a ride. Don't say anything to Birch.”

“Of course not. Guess we'll see you on Thanksgiving.”

Iris stepped aside as Libby approached and reached for Fanny's hand.

“Mrs. Thornton, I'd like to say good-bye and thank you for giving me the opportunity of working at the center. I'll miss all of you. I feel like you're my family.”

“Are you sure you won't change your mind?” Fanny asked as she took the young woman into her arms.

“No, I can't. My replacement is someone I handpicked for Sunny and Harry. They're both good with this. I'm going to miss them, all of you. Perhaps I'll come back for a visit one of these days.”

Fanny pressed a folded envelope into Libby's hands. “It's just a little something to make the transition easier. Promise to call and write.”

“I will. Tell Birch I said . . . tell him . . .” Her eyes filling with tears, Libby ran to the van.

“Don't even
think
about touching that one, Fanny,” Marcus hissed into her ear.

“How did I miss that, Marcus?”

“You were too busy enjoying your grandchildren and eating all that food. We both need to go on a diet. Let's get a move on. I want us to curl up on those red chairs and hold hands.”

“You are my man, Marcus Reed. Lead the way.”

“Fanny, wait up,” Ruby called.

“Is something wrong, Ruby?”

“No, no, nothing's wrong. Metaxas and I wondered if we could have about thirty minutes of your time when we get back to town. If Marcus is too tired, it can wait till tomorrow.”

“Marcus?”

“Sure. How about the Harem Lounge? Drinks are on me,” Marcus said.

“Spoken like a true Texan,” Metaxas boomed. “We'll follow you down the mountain. I never knew anyone who actually lived on a mountain. Or owned a mountain. I learn something every day.”

Fanny smiled as her eyes raked the room for a sign of Birch. She knew instinctively where he was. She looked at Sage who nodded. She wondered who it was in the small cemetery who would be giving him comfort.

“Don't worry, Mom. I'm going to make him stay the night. Jake and I already have it all worked out. Birch loves that kid and enjoys every minute he spends with him. Plus, Jake can give him some insight on Dad.”

Fanny shook her head. “It's amazing. A child giving one of us insight. Good night, honey. Thanks for having us. Help Iris in the kitchen. She refused everyone's help.”

“That's because cleaning the kitchen after company is what Iris calls our quality time. It's a good thing, Mom. Drive carefully.”

“Where's Billie? I didn't see her leave?”

“She left about fifteen minutes ago. She said she had a bad headache and wanted to get to bed early.”

Alarm showed on Fanny's face. “Do you . . . ?”

“I don't know, Mom. Call her when you get to town. If you need me, whistle.”

“‘Night everyone,” Fanny called.

 

Billie Thornton garaged her car, unloaded the trunk of all the goodies Iris had pressed on her. She wouldn't have to cook for a week. Her arms full, she headed for the underground elevator that would take her to her high-rise apartment. It took her ten minutes to sort through the packages and stack them in the freezer. She used up another five minutes mixing a drink and kicking off her shoes. Her watch told her it was only eight o'clock. She switched on the television, flipping through the channels for something that would hold her interest. A minute later she turned off the television, reached for her coat, and left the apartment.

A walk in the cool evening air would be good. Who was she fooling? Certainly not herself. She knew exactly where she was going and what she was going to do.
Count to ten, once, twice, three times. Call your counselor. Count again until the urge passes
.
Do it,
Billie.
She tried and failed. How much money did she have in her purse? Not much. Possibly $30. She retraced her steps, running this time, counting as she raced along. She danced from one foot to the other, her stomach churning, her eyes glassy until the elevator stopped on her floor. She ran then, faster than she'd used to run on the mountain when she was a child. Her hands trembled as she tried to fit the key into the lock. When she finally succeeded in getting the door open she bolted inside and ran to the dining room, to the corner where a large blue water bottle stood. Her breath exploded from her mouth in hard little gasps as she dropped to her knees and upended the bottle, silver dollars rolling all over the floor. She scrambled to retrieve them.

Count to ten, call your counselor.
One, two . . . Did she need to roll the silver? How much was here? Once she'd calculated she had close to $800. She stopped for a second trying to remember if she had coin wrappers or not. No, she didn't have any. What she did have was a canvas bank sack for coins, but where was it? She couldn't think. She was dizzy now, hyperventilating.
Count to ten, call your counselor.

The coins went into her denim carry bag she was never without. Damn, it was heavy and dragging down her left shoulder. She didn't care. All the weight did was slow her down. That was okay, too.
Stop! Call your counselor, take deep breaths. This will pass.
In the lobby, Billie fished in her pocket for a quarter. Her hands were shaking so badly she dropped the coin four times before she was able to fit it into the slot. She dialed the number she'd memorized. “Shit!” What was the woman's name? She couldn't remember. Sara, Sybil . . . Sylvia. Yes, Sylvia. She waited doing her dancing two step, the denim bag on the floor at her feet. “Come on, come on, answer the damn phone already!” She broke the connection just as a voice on the other end of the phone said, “Sorry, I was in the shower. Hello . . . hello.”

Billie trudged along, people staring at her. She glared at them as she shifted the denim bag from one shoulder to the other. The moment she saw Babylon's high-rise sign, she crossed the street and entered the first casino she came to. Had she known what she looked like, she might have detoured to the ladies' room for a quick repair job. Instead she headed for the nearest money changer. “I'd like bills for these,” she said in a jittery-sounding voice. She brushed at her hair. Count to ten. Call the counselor again before you do this. Maybe she had stepped outside, maybe she was in the bathroom. Try again. Don't blow this. Count to ten.

“This is good. Thanks,” Billie said stuffing the bills into her pocket. She walked the floor to the next money changer and did the same thing.
This is good
, she thought.
The bag is getting lighter. Count to ten. Call your counselor.

On the other side of the casino floor, in the casino's main office, two men sat staring at a monitor. They looked at one another and nodded. One of the men pressed the Security button. The door was opened almost immediately. The men pointed to the monitor and the Security guard nodded briefly. “Be discreet. Don't call attention to the young lady. Bring her here. Don't frighten her.”

“I'll make some calls,” the second man said.

“Neal, this is John Dallas. Do you by any chance know how I can locate Mrs. Thornton? Excuse me, Mrs. Reed. She's there. I need to speak to her. We have your pigeon. Thanks aren't necessary. We put the word out the minute you spoke to us. There isn't a casino in town that will take her money. You know we take care of our own. Four tickets to the Lakers game? You send those suckers right over, Neal. Sure, I'll hold on.”

Billie knew she was being hustled. Her shoulders slumped as the two Security guards, who resembled Wall Street bankers, escorted her to the office across the floor. She didn't cry until she was inside, her shoulders shaking. “You aren't going to believe me but I'm glad you dragged me in here. I tried not to do it. I really did. Do me a favor, though, please don't call my mother.”

“She's on the floor now heading this way. We don't do business that way.” The older of the two men walked over and dropped to one knee. He cupped her face in one hand. “Look at me, Miss Thornton, and listen carefully. There isn't a casino in this town that will take your money. Every establishment on the Big White Way is off-limits to you. Do you understand what I just said?”

“Yes, but how . . . why . . . I don't understand,” Billie gulped.

“This town owes its business to the Thornton family. We can't allow you to destroy what your grandmother and your father built here. Your addiction would destroy it in insidious little ways. At the moment you might not believe we're helping you, but we are.”

Fanny was a whirlwind as she rushed to her daughter. “Oh, Billie, why didn't you call me? Did you follow the steps? What happened?”

“Mom, this is how I get. I can't control it. These men helped me. Right now I don't see it that way. Tomorrow I will. I'm sorry, Mom. I'm okay now. It's passed I did try to call my counselor, but there was no answer.”

“You have to keep trying until you reach a counselor. Take your daughter home, Mrs. Reed.”

“Thank you. Thank you for . . . everything. It doesn't seem adequate, but it's all I can come up with right now.”

“Mrs. Reed, your daughter is not welcome in any casino in town. Perhaps one day that will change. None of us wants her money. Perhaps she'll understand that tomorrow.”

Fanny turned and smiled at the man's slow wink. She nodded slightly. “I think, Mr. Dallas, Ash Thornton would be very proud of you tonight. I know I am. Tomorrow is a bright new day. I'm looking forward to it. Good night, gentlemen.”

Fanny's voice was stern, yet gentle, when she said, “This was probably the best thing that could have happened to you. Now you know you aren't welcome anywhere.”

“Are you saying I'm a pariah?”

“Yes. If your next question is, did I alert the other casino owners, the answer is no. Word gets out. There are no secrets in this town just as there are no clocks in the casinos. Your father always said, as did Sallie, this town takes care of its own. Be grateful, Billie, that they do. Now there is a little matter of some outstanding money. Hand it over.”

“Even the silver dollars?”

“Every single one. And the money in your pockets.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Way to go Fanny!”

“Is she going to make it, Ash? This was pretty scary.”

“She's your daughter, Fanny. My money's on Billie.”

“Oh, Ash, you finally remembered her name. Did you have anything to do with this?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“Nah.”

“Liar.”

“Did you say something, Mom?”

“I talk to myself sometimes.”

“That's not good, Mom.”

“In this case it is. Trust me.”

“If you say so. Did I ever thank you for being my mother?”

“Hundreds of times.”

“Wanna hear it again?”

“You bet.”

19

Fanny led Ruby to a small table in the far corner of the Harem Lounge. “I really don't like sitting on a stool at the bar. That's for men. There are days when I actually miss this place. They're few and far between, but they do come. I met Marcus here for the first time. Let's have a cup of coffee and relax. Is anything wrong, Ruby?”

“Wrong means different things to different people. From my perspective there is nothing wrong. Are you sure Marcus doesn't mind sitting at the bar with Metaxas?”

“Not at all. He enjoys his company, and his name intrigues him. By the end of the evening I bet he knows the whys of it all.”

“I don't even know. It is a strange name. I never heard it until I met Metaxas. He said it's because he's one of a kind. That could be true for all I know. It is a mouthful, though.”

“Ruby, I want to thank you again for going with Sage to Vermont. Without you and your plane we could have faced a tragedy. I will be forever grateful to you.”

“You said we were family, Fanny. I took you at your word and only did what you would have done. I don't mind telling you I was petrified.” Ruby leaned across the table and dropped her voice to a hushed whisper. “Listen to me, Fanny. Ash . . . Ash . . . what he does is . . . he . . . talks to me. He says things that make sense, things that . . . they don't scare me, they . . . they seem so real. He seems so real. Am I crazy, Fanny? I know we talked about this at Sunrise and everyone had a different spin on it. What do
you
think, Fanny? I really need to know.”

Fanny smiled wearily. “On the surface, Ruby, there is a logical explanation for everything. It could be our subconscious working overtime or our own common sense. In the case of Sage and Metaxas, weather balloons. Sunny was always athletic and she camped, skied, and did all sorts of outdoor things. Little things you learn along the way stick with you. You don't realize it until you face some monumental event in your life. When it's down to the wire, Ruby, it's whatever works for you. Speaking for myself, I choose to believe. However, I'm not going to take a full page ad out in the
Nevada Sun
and announce it to the world. I don't mind if the rest of the family knows because it brings us all closer. I think we all have a higher comfort level now believing Ash is looking after us. At least I do. Did I help, Ruby?”

“It's pretty much how I feel, too. It was so real, Fanny. Metaxas believes. Here is this bigger-than-life Texan, someone you know just by looking at him is in total, complete control, telling me he had this . . . ethereal experience. It was like he was talking about his grocery list. If it were anyone but you and Metaxas, I think I'd run for cover.”

“Is that what you wanted to talk about, Ruby?”

“That was part of it. I was wondering, Fanny, if you would allow me to get married at Sunrise. I'll do all the planning. Iris is busy, and with her being pregnant, I don't want to burden her.”

Fanny grinned widely. “Will you let me handle the details, Ruby? Sunny and Harry are getting married over Christmas. Sunny was pretty adamant about it. They didn't pick a date yet. Is that too soon or too late or were you thinking about spring or summer? Can I make your dress? Or do you want a gown? I have the time, Ruby. A double wedding would be nice.”

Ruby beamed. “I think so. Metaxas will agree to anything I want. He's wonderful, isn't he, Fanny?”

“I always thought so. I'm so glad it worked out for you.”

“Me too. That's what I want to talk to you about. I'll be moving to Texas. I want to give you Thornton Chickens. It really belongs to all of you. I have no children. The lawyers can handle the legal end of it. I'm sure it isn't going to be one of those cut-and-dried things. I thought. . . that you and Marcus could run the business. It's going to be important for him to have something to do. Retirement is wonderful when you're
old
. Both of you are so vital, so energetic. The company could use you. Everything's set with The Chicken Palaces. I hate to admit this, but Celia did a bang-up job.”

“I never understood that, Ruby.”

“I wanted to get her away from Iris and Sage. Iris thought . . . all kinds of things. It seemed like the thing to do at the time. It worked, too. She's going to be working out of our Los Angeles office starting tomorrow. I want you to keep her on. I gave my word, and I don't like going back on it. I didn't have a problem with her. I don't think you will either. If you and Marcus agree to take over, you can terminate her employment if she doesn't live up to her contract. I don't think that will happen, though. She's going to get some very nice residual checks. This is all off the top of my head, Fanny. I want to go with Metaxas without any worries. I never made a secret of how I hate the chicken business. I never wanted it, but how do you give something like that back? Sallie made it possible for Dad and Mom to have it. It was Sallie's money that funded it from the git-go. Mom said that a hundred times. There is . . . ah, one other little thing, Fanny. The . . . ranch goes with the deal. I know, I know,” Ruby said throwing her hands in the air.

“The ranch too! Oh, Ruby, I don't . . . oh Lord, that means Marcus and I would . . . oh, Ruby, I don't . . .”

“What she means is okay, we'll do it!” Marcus said from the bar.

“Marcus, the ranch goes with the deal. It's a package,” Fanny said.

“I'll throw in my yellow Wellington boots,” Ruby said. “You need them to wade through the chicken poop. Dad's are green. They'll fit Marcus. They never wear out!”

“Fanny, how can we refuse an offer like that?” The laughter in her husband's eyes brought a smile to Fanny's face.

“I don't know the first thing about being a . . . madam. Ruby, I don't think I could do
that
.”

“It goes with the deal. You don't actually have to do anything. The ranch is run like a business. It has its own business manager, its own accountant, its own bank account. You review the account four times a year and that's it.”

“Sallie must be up there spinning in circles at this turn of events. Lord, what will the kids think? Marcus, do you really . . .”

“I think it's a great idea. We'll be together in our Wellingtons. You can make curtains for the chicken coops. It will give us something to do. You said you wanted to contribute. Let's face it, Fanny, the world eats chicken. We can do that free-range thing Birch was talking about. The possibilities are endless. We'll talk about the ranch end of things later. What is the asking price?”

“There is no price, Marcus. Ruby wants to give the company back to the family.”


Give?

“Yes, give. As in
free
.”

“I might have some trouble with that. That's not good business sense, Ruby.”

“Makes perfect sense to me,” Metaxas drawled. “They'd laugh me right out of the state of Texas if I brought home a wife who owned a chicken ranch. It's my sweet baby's decision. Whatever she wants is what I want. It's yours.”

“Ruby, I don't know what to say,” Fanny said.

“Just say yes. Please.”

“Well, I . . .”

“Please, Fanny,” Ruby implored.

“Can . . . can you wait a few minutes? I have to go to the ladies' room.” Fanny was off her chair and headed for the women's lounge around the corner from the bar. She ran to the stall at the end of the room and locked the door. “Ash! I need you. Right now. C'mon, c'mon, I don't have all night.”

“This is the ladies' room, Fanny.”

“No one else is in here. Whisper. What should I do? I'm dithering here, Ash.”

“Those yellow Wellingtons will look good on you, Fanny.”

“Is that a yes, Ash?”

“Thornton Chickens belongs to the family. Ruby's doing the right thing. Be
gracious
in your
acceptance.”

“What about the . . . you know . . . ?”

“What about it? It's the oldest profession on the books.”

“Damn it, Ash, listen to me. I've tried these last years to be my own person. I made up my mind I wasn't going to end up like Sallie. It's a goddamn package deal is what it is. What about the kids?”

“The ranch is a separate entity, Fanny. If you really want my opinion, I say go for it. Just think about it, Fanny. Picture this, two or three Chicken Palaces in every big city in the United States. You could become bigger than those hamburger joints. You don't have anything else to do. Give it a shot.”

“What if Marcus and I hate it?”

“You won't. It's going to be good for Marcus. A man needs to feel he's doing something worthwhile. Taking up space, traveling, gardening isn't his answer. This is something he can sink his teeth into.”

“And the . . . ranch?”

“Just part of the deal, Fanny. Fanny?”

“What?”

“Mom wasn't a madam. She did things other people wouldn't do to survive. I didn't understand that for a long time. It was Red Ruby's choice to do what she did. Mom just cleaned up the business and helped her, the way she helped half the people in Las Vegas. Remember that, okay.”

“Okay, Ash.”

“Can I go now? I really don't like hanging out in women's bathrooms. Tell Ruby I'll be at the wedding. She deserves to be happy.”

“I'll tell her, Ash. Thanks.”

Back in the Harem Lounge, Fanny took her place at the table. “What did he say?” Marcus hissed.

“He said . . . he said . . . go for it!”

“Then it's a done deal?” Mataxas queried.

Fanny's voice was jittery, her face white. “It's a done deal.”

“Fanny, thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart,” Ruby said.

“We are one weird family, Ruby.” Fanny leaned across the table. “Ash said to tell you he'll be at the wedding. He said you deserve to be happy.”

Ruby burst into tears. In the blink of an eye, Metaxas had her in his arms and was carrying her across the casino floor singing, “Deep in the Heart of Texas” at the top of his lungs. Onlookers clapped and whistled their approval.

Fanny's voice was still jittery when she said, “I guess we're in the chicken business, Marcus.”

“I can't wait to see you in those yellow Wellingtons.”

“Sadist.”

“Fanny, look at me. I love you so much my heart aches. I know in my heart that feeling is never going to leave me. I just wanted you to know.”

“I think that's the nicest thing anyone ever said to me. Let's go home, Mr. Reed.”

“We don't have a home, Mrs. Reed.”

“Sure we do. Home is wherever we are. Together. Home is where your stuff is. We have some stuff upstairs. For now, until we move out to the ranch, it's home.”

“Home is the sweetest word in the English language. Actually, it's the fifth best word after, Mom, Dad, kids, and love,” Marcus said.

“Oh, yeah,” Fanny said snuggling against her husband's chest. “I love you, Marcus.”

“Be happy, Fanny.”

Fanny stumbled and righted herself, her hold on Marcus's arm secure. If it had been daylight, her smile would have rivaled the sun.

“What did he say, Fanny?”

Fanny didn't bother pretending she didn't understand. “He told me to be happy.”

“Are you happy, Fanny?”

“Marcus Reed, I am the happiest woman alive, and that is never going to change. So there.”

“So there yourself, Fanny Reed.”

 

Celia Thornton sat in her car staring up at the lighted window of her apartment. Was Jeff still there? Not that it mattered. Was it worth going up to the ugly, mean little apartment to disconnect the phone, to get the answering machine, and the few things she'd left in the bathroom? Her money was in her purse. Her clothes and incidentals were in the trunk of the leased car. She could leave right now and not look back. She rolled down the window to take deep, gulping breaths.

Fanny Thornton was the one who had the Polaroid pictures. There for one brief instant, in the upstairs bedroom at Sunrise, they had stared into each other's eyes. Fanny wasn't going to do anything. Of that she was certain. To do anything would be to destroy her family. Without words they'd come to an understanding: She would live her life and the Thorntons would live theirs. As long as those lives remained problem-free, the pictures would remain safely hidden. She supposed it was a fair trade-off.

Celia leaned back against the plush leather seat. Earlier, Ruby had called her to tell her of her plan to turn Thornton Chickens over to Fanny and Marcus Reed. She'd almost fainted until Ruby said her contract would be honored by Fanny, and the sooner she could get to Los Angeles the better it would be for everyone.

The 260,000 dollars, her percentage from the blackjack tables, was safe under the seat. She knew in her gut, in her heart, in her mind, that Fanny would let sleeping dogs lie as long as she made herself scarce where the Thornton family was concerned. Instinct told her one claim against the family would end Fanny's silence. Until and unless Fanny was prepared to confront her, the stupid, ugly pictures would remain a silent threat. Celia was no fool. She'd played the game too long not to know how it worked. If she factored in her salary, she could live comfortably until the birth of her child. The residuals from the commercials would be icing on the cake and pay for day care if she decided to keep working after she gave birth.

Everything in her life had changed with the results of her lab test. Even her thinking had changed. One minute she was Celia Connors Thornton, married to one of the richest men in Nevada. One second later she was Celia Connors Thornton, mother-to-be. The greedy, conniving, manipulative Celia Thornton ceased to exist the moment she read the lab report. She felt vulnerable, scared, and lost.

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