"I'm sure Chue heard you down at his cottage."
"Let's pack up and go to Hawaii. It's warm there. We could see if that shack is still there."
Fanny closed the box of ornaments. "That was another time and another place. We're divorced. I'm going back to the studio now."
"You're leaving me here alone?" Ash asked, his voice full of outrage. "I don't like to be alone. Leave Daisy."
"If Daisy wants to stay, she can stay." At the sound of her name, Daisy ran to the door and woofed. "Guess she doesn't," Fanny said, slipping into her jacket.
"I think I hear a car. Yep, it's Sunny. I'll see you at dinner if I finish my work."
She boks bone tired, Fanny thought, when her daughter hugged her. "Happy New Year, Mom. You too, Dad." Ash grunted. Fanny rolled her eyes. Sunny's face went totally blank. "I'll come down to the studio before I leave," Sunny whispered.
"Dad, where's the nurse and therapist?"
"They're gone. I terminated their employment. Let's get down to business. Did you bring the new blueprints?"
"Dad, this is the holiday season. The architect didn't work between Christmas and New Year's. I told you that last week."
"Fire the son of a bitch! So, nothing's been done?"
"That isn't going to be easy, Dad. No one wants to pick up be-
hind someone else. If you give up on the indoor pool, we can get back on track and save a fortune." Sunny took a deep breath. "You can't keep making these changes, Dad. I'm an engineer, I know what I'm talking about. We've failed every single inspection. I had to bring new people in to correct everything. We're so far over budget I'm starting to worry. Mom can pull the plug if she wants to. WTien she sees this latest batch of specs, she's going to hit the ceiling."
"Then don't tell her. Let's keep it between us."
"Oh, no, I'm not playing that game. Scratch the pool and those marble floors. We don't need ten miles of Italian marble."
"It's one of a kind. No one else has it. It stays. Babylon is one of the seven wonders of the world. People will come from all over the world to gamble in my casino. The hanging gardens will have no equal. When a customer walks through the golden doors he has every right to expect the most sensual experience of his life. That's exacdy what I'm going to give them."
"V4iat happens when the money runs out?"
"There are places to get money," Ash said vaguely.
Sunny snorted. "I know about those places. If you do that, you'll be selling your soul to the devils of Las Vegas."
"It's my soul," Ash snapped.
"So it is. However, it isn't mine. I made the decision to go with the regulation locks on the doors. The first eight floors have beef^ done. We signed off on them."
"You had no goddamn right to make a decision without asking me."
"Yes, I did. I only had thirty days to return the hardware. We were fifteen days past that time. The security locks you wanted were double the cost of the ones we had. People aren't ready for credit card locks anyway. They aren't ready for bidets, either."
"If I wanted regulation, I would have ordered regulation. I want new, different, sizzling, sensuous. I want men to think Babylon is the ultimate aphrodisiac, and I want women to think they're part of it. The women will love the bidets, the security of the credit card locks. Women like that sort of thing. Those same women will love going into a grotto pool under the stars. I know what I'm talking about. I traveled in those circles for a long time."
Shaking with fury. Sunny struggled into her coat. "You're out of your mind. I must be out of mine too to even be arguing with you. Happy New Year!"
Sunny ran to the studio and burst through the door. "Mom . . .
500 Fern Michaels
I can't . . . Mom, he won't listen. Just let me blurt everything out. He . . .he's over the edge, Mom. He wants the architect fired. This whole thing is turning into a joke. There's some heavy betting going on in the street. The heavy hitters are nine to one Babylon goes into Chapter Eleven. The damn barracudas are lining up. He refuses to budge on the pool. Ultimate aphrodisiac my ass!"
"What do you suggest we do?" Fanny asked.
"Two sets of books, blueprints, one set for him, one for us."
"And when he sees the finished building?" Fanny said gendy. "I can't be a party to deception, and I don't think you want to, either."
"So what you're telling me is to go along with whatever Dad wants, which includes dumping the hardware in favor of those cockamamie locks?" Fanny nodded. "And the architect?"
"If you can't find another architect, there isn't much you can do. You work with what you have until things change. Do your best, Sunny."
"Mom, have you really looked at Dad lately? I see junkies on the strip every day that look better than he does. He took six pills while I was there."
"I can't stop him. Sunny. He lies about how much he takes. He says the botde dropped, or the pills spilled in the toilet. He has more excuses than you can imagine. I tried telling John, but he said he couldn't call him a har nor could he deprive him of the medicine. It's a Catch-22. A new nurse and therapist are due momentarily. This couple will not be fired. Ash will have to buckle under and go by the rules. If he doesn't, we'll have to transfer him to a re-habilatation center. I told him so this morning."
"Have you seen any improvement. Mom?"
"None. Your father can walk, but he's in incredible pain when he does. One day he actually passed out. The therapist grabbed him in time to break his fall. The orthopedic surgeon is now saying the back operation is too risky."
"What's going to happen to him?"
"I don't know. We've had the best doctors and surgeons in the country. Everything that could possibly be done, has been done. His broken bones have healed. One can survive without a spleen. He hais medication for his violent headaches and medication for the pain in his back. He receives therapy every day. His nutrition is good. He says he doesn't sleep. The nurse says he does sleep. I'm doing my best."
"I know that, Mom, but his attitude has changed drastically in just a few weeks. He's becoming abusive."
"I had a thought, Sunny. What would you think if I called my father and brothers to come here and oversee things? We wouldn't necessarily have to mention that to your father since they wouldn't be taking any money. Consultants if you will. Perhaps those contractors are taking advant^e of you because you're a woman. My brother Brad will find out in five minutes. Since your father isn't living in his penthouse apartment, I thought they could stay there while they're here. We won't mention that to your father, agreed?"
"Oh, Mom, I knew you'd come up with something. That's the perfect solution. I won't breathe a word." The relief on her daughter's face was so total, Fanny knew her idea would work.
"I'll call my father this evening. I did suggest Ash use them in the beginning, but he didn't want any part of my family working on his casino. Can Babylon be finished by the Fourth of July the way your father planned?" Why am I doing this?
"If the crews work around the clock, if materials come in on time, if the inspections go off as scheduled, and if there's enough money to make the draws, it's possible," Sunny said.
"Your father says all you need is six months."
"With no change orders, maybe. Labor Day seems more likely. That's my target date, and it's a realistic one. If we finish by the first of August, we'll have a month to prepare for the grand opening. Entertainers need six months' notice. He's promising people the world. When it's time to pay off I don't know what he's going to do. Reputation, as I'm finding out, is everything in this business. The smart money refers to Dad as a nutcase. I gotta get going. Mom. I have to fmd a way to recycle $200,000 worth of gold-plated doorknobs. I have a 6:00 a.m. meeting with the design architect for the pool. You know what, Mom, men always look good at six in the morning. Women just look tired. I'll give you a call tomorrow."
"How's Tyler, Sunny?"
"I haven't seen him in two weeks, and the last time I did see him I fell asleep over my egg roll
s. I keep telling myself this will be over soon and I can pick up my old life. See you. Mom." She left the way she had arrived, a whirlwind of motion.
Fanny curled into her red chair, her glasses perched on the end of her nose. Pencil in one hand, calculator in the other, she worked the numbers, adding, subtracting, multiplying. So much money. Sal-lie, Sallie, ctid you really think Ash could build a casino for three million dollars? Was this your legacy to me? She shook her head wearily as she continued with her addition. Eight months and millions to go.
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The only problem was, the miUions were gone. What was left? Sal-lie's jewelry, the bingo palace, and the Uttle house in the cotton-woods. Sunrise. If she deeded the mountain back to Ash and Simon, Ash would find a way to sell it.
Simon. She started to cry. Daisy leaped on her lap to lick at her tears. Once Ash had said she was the stupidest woman walking the earth. He'd clarified that by saying, next to his mother, she was the stupidest He must be right. Who in their right mind would do what she did to Simon? She cried harder. Daisy whimpered at these strange sounds. She could call him on some pretext or other. If she wanted to. Just to hear his voice. Just to know he was alive and well.
Fanny set aside the papers she'd been working on. From the cabinet under her drafting table she withdrew Sallie's box of photographs. She cried harder when she lined up Simon's pictures. When there were no more tears, she blew her nose and straightened her shoulders. She'd made the decision, no one else. Now, she had to live with it. She closed the box and pulled out Sallie's magnificent jewelry box. The jewelry was ornate—gaudy, but priceless. She had no idea what it was worth, surely a small fortune. If she added her ovm jewelry to the pile, maybe, if she was lucky, she could get three, maybe four milhon dollars.
She was on her knees, the baubles spread out on the red chair. The jewelry box alone must be worth close to fifty thousand doUars. Her hands were clumsy as she lifted the box to see if there was any kind of engraving or tag on the bottom. It slipped from her hands to land on the carpet, the red velvet trays askew. As she tugged at the trays she noticed two pieces of paper. She spread them out, adjusted her glasses. An lOU signed by Seth Coleman for three million dollars. Fanny gasped. The second piece of paper was the combination to the monster safe in the main house. The special key to the room was among the jewelry. She'd meant to go into the room so many times since Sallie's death, but other things seemed to take priority. She thought it strange that she'd never shown any curiosity in regard to the safe. It was Sallie's; therefore, it was off-limits, the same way Jake's money was off-limits. Legally, the house was hers, but the schoolroom and the safe room, as Sallie called it, were always her mother-in-law's.
Her curiosity was 2UT>used now. She fingered the heavy brass, one-of-a-kind key, made especially for the one-of-a-kind lock, according to Sallie. A lock that couldn't be picked and a key that couldn't be duplicated. Once Sallie had told her the door was solid steel with a
wooden veneer. Impregnable. Well, she had die key and die combination. If she entered die main house by die front door, she could go up to the second floor undetected. Her heart started to pump furiously. Do it! Do it! An inner voice challenged. It's yours mw,you have the right to go into that special room and open the safe. Fanny didn't argue with herself. Instead, she told Daisy to guard the family jewels.
The early evening darkness allowed Fanny to blend with the shadows as she walked around to the front of the house. She shivered in the night air, not so much from the cold mountain air, but from fear. Of what, she didn't know.
The front door opened soundlessly. Fanny tiptoed inside. She waited a moment to see if any sounds were coming from the living room. She heard low-voiced conversation and the lower voices of the television set. Good, all present and accounted for. Aware that the fourth step from the bottom creaked, Fanny stepped above it, the thick carpeting muffling any sound she might make.
Upstairs, Fanny walked down the hall to the room at the end. She fit the heavy brass key into the lock and turned it. She had to use her shoulder to push the heavy door inward. Total darkness greeted her. Her hands fimibled for a light switch. There wasn't one. Light from the hallway spilled into the room. To the right of the door she saw a large black flashlight. When she mmed it on instant bright light flooded the room. She pocketed the key, but not until she was certain the key would open the door from the inside. The door closed soundlessly.
Fanny panicked for a second when she realized there were no windows in the room. The key inside her pocket felt warm against her leg. It should be cold, she thought crazily. She moved the flashlight in a wide arc to see the ugly, black, floor-to-ceiling safe. The round silver circle in the middle reminded her of a Cyclops eye.
Fanny placed the flashlight on the floor, the light shining direcdy on the lock. She fished in her pocket for the tattered piece of paper. How long could she stay in this airless room? Her heart pounding in her chest, Fanny twirled the dial. It took her four tries before she finally heard the click that told her all she had to do was grasp the handle and open the massive door. She pulled and tugged. She tried using her rear end, her shoulder, her hip, and fmally she managed to pry the door open. She leaned against it, her back pushing the heavy door. She was left: breathless with exertion.
Flashlight in hand, Fanny played it around the inside of the safe. There's no dust, she thought inanely. She stared at the six long
504 Fern Michaels
shelves, three of which were filled with burlap sacks. They appeared to be identical and equally heavy. She untied the knots on two of them. Gold nuggets, different sizes. Fanny reached for the heavy door for support. The third shelf held four stout wooden boxes. The word EXPLOSIVES was printed on each box. Fanny lifted one of the boxes off the shelf. She dropped to her knees. She took a deep breath before she opened it. Stock certificates—railroad stocks, mining stocks—^bundled tighdy in neat piles. Land deeds, bundled into thinner piles. War bonds, stacks and stacks of them. She closed the lid and replaced the box on the shelf Expecting to see the same thing in the second box, she was stunned to find thick bundles of old, very dry money. She rifled through a stack. Thousand-dollar bills, two hundred to a stack. She almost fainted when she counted the stacks. Her hands were shaking so badly it was all she could do to close the box and replace it on the shelf. She took a deep breath before she opened the third box. What she saw brought tears to her eyes. Photograph albums, one for Ash and one for Simon. Baby caps and baby shoes. Mementos of Sallie's children that she'd kept. Tears trickled down Fanny's cheeks. On the bottom of the box were twelve leather-bound diaries, each with Sallie's name embossed in gold on the cover, and the years the diaries covered. Taped to the first diary was a long white envelope with the name Fanny scrawled across the fi-ont. She pushed the box closer to the door. She would take this box with her when she returned to the studio.
Fanny struggled to lift; one of the sacks off the shelf How much did it weigh? Ten, twenty pounds? Since she couldn't lift it above her knees, it had to weigh much more. By pushing and tugging she managed to get it onto the bottom shelf Maybe seventy pounds, she estimated. Gold sold by the ounce. Mercy! She counted sixty-five burlap sacks. She had to sit down with her head between her knees.
Fanny looked at her watch. Ash would be having dinner now. If the television was still on, she could make it out of the house without being noticed. The box wasn't heavy, but it was bulky. Fanny tiptoed to the top of the steps. She leaned over the railing, straining to hear the sounds of the television. A small sigh escaped her lips as she started down the steps, the box firmly clasped in her hands, care-ftil to avoid the fourth step from the bottom. She held her breath until she was outside in the crisp evening air. The moment she had her wits about her, she began to run. Inside her studio, she slammed the dead bolt home. Daisy ran to her.
Fanny dropped to the floor, the dog in her lap. "I betcha this is
how criminals feel when they leave the scene of a crime." She hugged the l
ittle dog until her heartbeat returned to normal.
"I'll put the jewelry back, make you some dinner, make myself some coffee, and we'll sit here and try to figure out what I'm going to do."
While Daisy ate her dinner, Fanny slapped a wrinkled piece of cheese between two slices of dry bread. She carried her coffee and sandwich to the big red chair, poked at the fire, and added another log. Now, she was set for hours. The intercom buzzed near the front door just as she was about to sit down. Ash.
"Yes?"
"Fanny, you missed dinner. Do you want me to have Mazie send something down?"
Fanny looked at her cheese sandwich. "I ate. Ash. I wasn't hungry this evening."
"Are you coming up?"
"No, not this evening. I have something I have to do."
Ash lowered his voice. "This therapist is a jerk, Fanny. The nurse is like something from a Godzilla movie. This team isn't going to work."
"It has to work. You know what the alternative is."
"Stop threatening me, Fanny. Come up and meet them. We can play a game of chess."
"Maybe tomorrow. Ask the nurse or therapist to play with you. If they aren't chess players, play checkers. Good night. Ash."
Fanny spent the rest of the evening working her calculator and talking to Bess and Billie Coleman. The last thing she did before climbing into bed was to look through the wooden box a second time. Dear God, she'd forgotten about the letter with her name on it.
Fanny withdrew the letter and smoothed it out on her bedspread. It was written on Sallie's flowered paper and smelled faindy of lilacs. It was dated three months before her death.
My Dear Fanny,
If you're reading this letter, you have finally opened the monster safe. There are no words to tell you how that room, and the safe itself, intimidated me the first time I saw it. I prayed that I was dreaming, that I would wake and it would all be a bad dream. It wasn't, as you know. I only used one bag of the gold and some of the money for investment purposes. My fortune was mostly made on my own, and of
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