“Bobby Lord?”
Susan sighed and shook her head. “I’ve told him there’s nothing between us. There never has been, but …”
“He’s a little slow on the uptake?”
She smiled sadly. “I love Tony, I do. And don’t get me wrong, somehow I thought it would be this …” she sighed almost dreamily, “fairy tale sort of thing. Like my parents.”
Jack nodded, wanting to pry, but not wanting to look like he was. He waited, but she didn’t elaborate. He noticed some photo frames propped up on the bookshelves at the end of the living room. One of them was clearly Susan as a little girl, maybe ten or eleven, with her older brother and their parents.
He walked over to it. “Is this your mother?”
Susan came up beside him and picked up the photograph. “Yes.”
“She’s beautiful.” Susan was nearly her spitting image.
Susan nodded and looked sadly at the photo before putting it back on the shelf. “That was taken two weeks before she died.”
“I’m sorry.”
Susan shrugged, but it didn’t lift the weight of the memory from her shoulders. “It was a long time ago.”
“What happened?”
She looked at the photo once more before moving back to the sofa. “Car crash. One of those things. One of those horrible things that just … happens.” She took a drink of her gin and tonic.
“She was picking up Ronnie from something after school. I don’t remember what. It was only a few blocks, but it was raining and she didn’t want him getting sick. He was always getting sick.”
She picked up the cigarette she’d left in the large crystal ashtray on the coffee table, took a draw from it and exhaled quickly. “And that was that. Just one of those things.”
Her voice quavered and Jack let her have a moment.
He took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and tapped it against his palm before hearing that little annoying voice in his head and returning the whole thing back to his pocket.
“Trying to quit,” he said in response to her curious look.
She held her cigarette up. “You don’t mind if I …?”
He shook his head.
“Daddy always blamed Ronnie. It wasn’t his fault, of course, but my father loved my mother more than anything else in the world.”
“Except you maybe?” Jack said.
She smiled. “Maybe. But I’ve done my share of disappointing him.”
“I find that hard to believe. Man worships you.”
“That just makes it easier to disappoint him.” She took a final draw from her cigarette and delicately dabbed it out in the ashtray. “And as I’m sure he’s already told you, he’s not exactly a fan of my husband.”
“Enough to lease him this property for a pretty good song.”
She was surprised. “He told you about that?”
Jack nodded. She tilted her head to the side and raised her eyebrows, impressed. Then she leaned back.
“Sometimes, I wish he hadn’t. It’s all such a mess now.”
“Do you think that’s why you were kidnapped?” he asked. “Trying to leverage the negotiations?”
Susan’s forehead furrowed into perfect little lines. “I suppose, but it doesn’t seem like them. They’re, well, not gentleman, but businessmen, and whatever that was, it was bad for business. Daddy’ll keep it hushed up as best he can, but it’s a small town. And here,” she added, with a little bite, “business comes before everything.”
Jack had a feeling they weren’t talking in generalities anymore. Her hurt was personal.
“Business must be pretty good,” Jack said. “Your husband seems to be doing pretty well. Where is he, by the way?”
He looked around the room. “I expected him to be glued to your hip.”
Susan sat up a little straighter, a little tighter. “We had a bit of an argument.”
“That wouldn’t keep me away,” Jack said.
What kind of husband left his wife’s side only hours after what she’d been through? Hell, he knew he couldn’t pry Simon away from Elizabeth with a crowbar.
“He’s a busy man.”
Jack’s heart went out to her. It was clear from her expression that her excuse for Tony sounded flat, even to her own ears.
“Well, you’re a busy woman,” Jack said. “This is the big anniversary week. All that planning and all those parties.”
She paled at the reminder. “I wish I could put it all off, but there’s a pageant at the pool at four and a dinner tonight.” She gave him an embarrassed smile. “I know it’s silly, but right now, I’d be happy to just stay inside and never go out again.”
“I know, and no one would blame you if did, but a little advice?”
She nodded.
“Get back out there as soon as you can. The longer you stay in here, the harder it’ll be.”
She swallowed and started to shake her head.
“And you won’t be alone. Like it or not, you’re stuck with me.”
That managed to coax a small smile out of her. “I don’t know.”
“There’s got to be someplace you’d rather be than here.”
Her smile grew a little. “There is.”
Chapter Sixteen
IT HAD BEEN YEARS since Jack had been on a horse, but it all came back as if it were yesterday. Susan had taken him to the Paradise stables where she kept her horse, Royal, a beautiful palomino, and a dozen more horses for the guests. She’d chosen a big sorrel named The Red Baron for him and they’d headed out into the forty acres of desert land stretching out behind the hotel.
It was hard and dry and dusty. Soil that looked like it hadn’t seen a drop of water since the Hoover administration was hard as rock. The little scrub brush there was sat low to the ground and was thorny, brown and dull green. Red spines poked out of the tops of clusters of short mounds of cactus. It was completely unforgiving, harsh and lonely. And he’d never seen Susan happier.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she said.
He supposed it was in a “don’t get left out here to die” way. It was flat and featureless. A range of low-lying mountains sat on the horizon, far, far away. There was one copse of trees near what Jack guessed was the back line of the property, but other than that it was desert. Hot and empty.
He had plenty of good memories of his time in Arizona working as a stuntman, but that was more from the people than the place.
“Not a desert type?” she asked, sensing his hesitation to answer.
“It’s beautiful,” he said, “but a little harsh. I’m really a big baby. Los Angeles spoiled me.”
She smiled, nodded, and went back to enjoying the ride.
“But wherever you hang your hat, right?” he said.
It was her turn to hesitate.
He decided to shift the topic a little. “You grew up here?”
“We moved here from Texas when I was just a little girl. So, maybe twenty years?” She grimaced. “That makes me sound so old.”
“A regular Grandma Moses.”
She frowned playfully at him. “Make fun if you want, but it’s different for a woman.”
He knew it was, especially in the 1960s. “Either way, you’re far from old.”
She smiled at the compliment. “Tell my father that. His clock for grandchildren is ticking down every day.”
“Do you want kids?” He found himself genuinely wondering if she did. She said she loved Tony, but he had to wonder.
When she didn’t answer right away, he thought he might have overstepped. “Sorry. That’s none of my business.”
“It’s all right. Yes,” she said. “I do. But …”
With the green light now on the subject, he took a wild stab at an answer. “Tony doesn’t?”
“He says he does, but it’s just never the right time.” She leaned forward and patted her horse’s neck. “I’m starting to think it never will be.”
She leaned back and looked at Jack a little nervously as thou
gh she’d said too much. “With the hotel and how busy he is.”
“Sure.”
They rode in silence for a moment. Despite it being hotter than Hades out here, it was nice to get away from the glitz and glamour. He let her get a little bit ahead of him and watched her ride.
The horse’s gait made her sway from side to side in a loose, easy rhythm. It was hard to remember that this woman was the same ramrod straight one he’d seen that first day. Susan with Tony and Susan without Tony were two different women.
“How did you two meet anyway?” he asked, pulling up next to her again. “You seem …”
“From different worlds?”
Jack nodded.
“I was at Briarcliff and he was … not,” she said with a smile at the memory. “He’d just moved to New York from Chicago and … I don’t know. I’d never met anyone like him. He swept me off my feet.”
There was a sadness in her eyes when she looked sideways at Jack. “And I’m ashamed to say I don’t think I’ve stood on them since.”
She took a deep breath.
“I was Daddy’s girl and now I’m Tony’s,” she said with a rueful smile. “Poor butterfly, right?”
“No,” Jack said. “Not at all.”
She gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “I wasn’t always this helpless, you know?” she said and gave her horse a little nudge.
Jack pulled his horse to a stop as she started to circle around him.
“You might be surprised to find out that I,” she said continuing her circling, “was the eleven to fourteen year old barrel racing champion of Clark County. Two years running.”
Jack grinned. “Were you?”
“You doubt me?”
He shrugged, offering her the challenge she so badly wanted.
She grinned then and gave Royal a quick command and the two of them took off like a shot. She rode hellbent for leather to a small outcropping of creosote bushes and circled tightly around it before heading for another and doing the same. She made one more pass of her figure eight and then came galloping up to him.
His horse reared back as she brought Royal to a quick stop right next to him.
“Impressive,” he said.
She smiled between panted breaths. “It’s been a long time.”
The Red Baron shifted his hooves restlessly beneath Jack. He gave the horse a few comforting pats on the shoulder.
“Is he as fast as his name makes him sound?” he asked.
Susan merely grinned and then she and Royal were off again. Dust trailed behind them as she rode fast back toward the hotel. Jack urged the Baron to give chase. He wasn’t as fast as Royal, but he still had a little something and Jack coaxed it out of him.
They’d barely gone fifty yards though when Jack felt the Baron stumble slightly. He eased up and brought him to a halt. Baron stepped from foot to foot uneasily. Jack dismounted and soothed him.
It took Susan a few moments to realize they weren’t chasing her. When she did, she pulled up and circled back.
“It’s all right,” Jack said as he stroked the Baron’s neck.
“What happened?” Susan said as she arrived by their side.
Jack leaned down and squinted at his horse’s front hooves. “I think he threw a shoe.”
Susan dismounted and took hold of Baron’s reins. Jack ran his hand down the horse’s front leg until he got to the fetlock. He squeezed the back of the leg gently. Happily, Baron knew the drill and lifted his foot. Sure enough, the shoe was gone. At least it was all the way off.
“Yup.” Jack ran his fingers over the hoof and then let go.
He gave Baron a few more pats and turned to Susan apologetically.
“Not your fault,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“I was talking to Baron,” she said.
He liked this Susan. He liked her very much.
“We should find it,” he said. “Can’t be far. Don’t want to leave scraggly old nails out here.”
Susan smiled. “No, we don’t.”
It only took them a few minutes to find the missing shoe.
“I don’t think I should ride him,” Jack said. It was probably less than a mile back to the stables, but better to be safe than sorry.
“You can ride on,” he suggested. “It’s after 3.”
Susan was surprised, and obviously a little worried about how late it was, but she shook her head. “No, I’ll walk with you.”
He didn’t know if it was because she was afraid to ride on alone or if she didn’t want to go back at all. Either way, he was glad she stayed.
“There’ll be hell to pay when I get back,” she said as they started to walk, leading their horses behind them, “but it’s funny.” She cast a quick, almost shy smile his way. “I don’t care.”
He smiled back, but inside alarms went off. He knew that smile, that “I’m seeing you in a new way and I like what I see” smile. Usually, he loved seeing it. It often led to very pleasant things. But in the case of married women, especially this married woman, it could very easily lead to a bullet.
It was a dangerous line to walk, on the edge of someone’s heart. He knew her feelings weren’t genuine; it was almost a reflexive response to someone who saved your life. He’d seen it time and again during the war. None of that made it feel any less real though.
He was stuck. He couldn’t afford to push her away or pull her closer. He didn’t like leading anyone on, but knowing what was at stake, he couldn’t do anything else for now. Hopefully, it would stay firmly in the harmless infatuation stage until this mess was over.
They made it back to the stables by 3:30. A nervous hotel worker was there waiting for them.
“Mrs. Santo,” the woman said, breathlessly. “Thank God. The pageant is about to start and Mr. Rooney’s already … drinking,” she said in hushed tones, “and Mr. Marx keeps chasing girls into the pool.”
Susan smiled and looked at Jack. “Celebrities. Worse than children.”
“Oh, that reminds me, that awful little Dicky Boyd wants a better room.”
“Breathe, Mrs. Halifax.” Susan took off her gloves and handed them to the woman, who clutched them and a clipboard to her bosom. “I’ll take care of it.”
Susan looked apologetically at Jack. “I have to …”
“Of course. I’ll follow along and try to stay out of the way.”
The Miss Bombshell 1960 pageant was a sight to behold. Last year’s winner stood at the end of the pool, her winner’s sash draped across a mushroom cloud of white cotton balls that had been affixed to her nude-colored bathing suit. It was both slightly erotic and slightly psychotic.
Las Vegas never missed a trick when it came to marketing and publicity. Having atomic bombs tested nearby turned into a tourist attraction. Before the treaty with the Russians put the kibosh on testing, they’d had one every few months. The mushroom cloud was visible even from the strip. Busloads of tourists would go out to the nearby mountains for a front row view of hell on earth.
In town, there were atomic cocktails, bomb parties and anything they could think of that would drum up business—like the Miss Bombshell pageant.
Not that Jack was unhappy about the latter. He could think of far worse ways to spend the afternoon than watching a bevy of beautiful women in bathing suits strut around a pool. Despite their earlier shenanigans, the guest judges—Mickey Rooney, Harpo Marx, and Rose Marie—behaved, mostly, and everyone seemed to have a good time. Except for Tony Santo, whose smile was as forced as if someone was holding a gun to his head.
Beatrice Hopnagel from Sioux City, Iowa won the crown, two hundred dollars and a lifetime supply of Rinso, courtesy of Messina Brothers Appliances and More Store. She posed for pictures with the press, including Baxter, and then was shuttled aside for a quick interview with Jepson for a story that would never run.
“Not a bad assignment,” Jack said as Miss Bombshell moved on to another reporter.
Jepson grinned. “I’ve had worse.”<
br />
Susan and Tony, who’d been busy working the crowd and posing for pictures of their own, came over to join them. “You three are coming tonight, aren’t you? The judges will be there,” she said, glancing back at the three celebrities, although Rooney seemed to be asleep in his chair. “At least some of them.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Jepson said.
Baxter took off his hat and wiped his sweaty forehead with a soggy handkerchief. “I think I’m going to pass. I’ve got plenty of good shots, but this sun …” He squinted up into the sky and shook his head.
“We can have the house doctor come by if—” Susan said.
Baxter shook his head. “Naw, thank you, but I’ll just hit the sack early. Be right as rain tomorrow.”
He packed up his photographic equipment. “I’ll see you then.”
“We’ll see you, though, won’t we?” Tony said to Jepson. “I’m sure it’ll make good copy for your story. I’d hate for it to be left out.”
Jepson tugged on his ear. “We wouldn’t want that. I’ll be there.”
“Good,” Santo said. He looked at Jepson blankly. Finally, the other man got the cue.
“Right. I’ll see you tonight,” he said as he left, helping Baxter with one of his cases.
Tony watched them go and then turned to Jack.
“You can take the night off, too.” He put a possessive arm around Susan’s shoulders. “I think we can manage tonight.”
Susan hesitated.
Tony eyed Jack carefully and then smiled the smile of a man who knew he had the upper hand. “I appreciate you watching over my girl today, but this is a private dinner. I’m sure you understand.”
Susan looked anxiously at Jack and then up at her husband. “I’d really feel better if he was there.”
Tony pulled back. “You don’t think I can protect you? Is that it?”
“No—”
“’Cause that’s what it sounded like to me.”
“No. That’s not what I meant.”
All the confidence she’d shown earlier melted away under the heat of Tony’s gaze.
She smiled sadly and apologetically at Jack, but he shook his head. “It’s all right. I’m sure your husband has things well in hand.”
Jacks Are Wild: An Out of Time Novel (Saving Time, Book 1) Page 16