Vegas Sunrise

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Vegas Sunrise Page 42

by Fern Michaels


  “You are, aren’t you?”

  “If you don’t move, Birch, I’ll smash that Jeep. We’re just two people who used to know each other.”

  Birch stepped aside, a stunned look on his face. He watched Celia’s car until its taillights were barely pinpoints of red light in the dark night.

  “It’s not the end of the world, Birch.”

  “Sage! Where the hell did you come from?”

  “I followed you down the mountain. It is what it is. You have to accept it.”

  “Did you hear the whole thing?”

  “Half the neighborhood heard it. She didn’t admit to being pregnant. You have to accept what she said and get on with it, and you have to take responsibility for your actions, Birch. Come on, let’s go to Babylon, and I’ll buy you a beer.”

  “Am I like Dad, Sage?”

  “Yeah, in some respects, but then so am I. At this point in time, Birch, that’s not a bad thing. It was all a long time ago. I believe I learned from Dad’s mistakes. I hope you did, too. We’re not perfect people, and we don’t live in a perfect world. That means mistakes are okay as long as you learn from them and don’t repeat them.”

  “What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

  “What do you want to do, Birch?”

  “The truth?”

  “Yeah, that’s a good place to start.”

  “I want to put on my running shoes and run till I can’t run anymore. I want to pretend my name is Joe Smith and that I live in Perth Amboy, New Jersey.”

  “Nah, that’s the easy way out. Guess what, Birch. Joe Smith of Perth Amboy, New Jersey, would trade places with you in a heartbeat.”

  “What if she is pregnant, Sage?”

  “That’s why they have lawyers. Celia could turn out to be the best mother in the world. If she’s pregnant, and we aren’t sure that’s the case. I told you, don’t believe anything that jerk Lassiter says.”

  “Celia told me he’s petitioned the court to take the Thornton name. She, on the other hand, is giving it up.”

  “So? Do you want to fight that, too?”

  “I was making conversation.”

  “Then let’s make conversation someplace else. This isn’t the best part of town, you know. How could you let your wife live here?”

  “That and a hundred other things are the reason I want to be Joe Smith from Perth Amboy, New Jersey.”

  “It isn’t gonna happen. Let’s go get that beer.”

  “Celia’s a survivor.”

  “That’s good to know, Birch. If that’s true, you can stop worrying about her.”

  “She was pretty decent there at the end, all things considered.”

  “Everyone has good and bad in them. Even Dad,” Sage said pointedly. “I’ll follow you, and we’ll park at Babylon. By the way, when are you leaving for Atlantic City?”

  “Tomorrow on an early flight. Sunny’s staying on another week. Life’s going to be kind of dull with us gone, huh?”

  “I can take dull for a little while. Mom’s got Billie under control. It’s going to be a struggle for a while, but it will work out in the end. Billie doesn’t want to live with an addiction. Ruby and Sunny are getting married over Christmas, on the mountain. Iris is having twins, Chue and his wife are finally going to China for a visit. Mom’s happy. Marcus is well. Our world is good, Birch. In fact, I don’t think it gets much better than this.”

  “I’m happy for everyone. Don’t start worrying about me, Sage. Sometimes you’re like a mother hen. Just why the hell did you follow me down the mountain?”

  “I followed you because I was worried. Plus, Iris pushed me out the door. I just want to help. I want you to know you can count on me no matter what happens.”

  “I do know that, Sage. I’m damn glad you’re my brother. As long as I know you’re in my corner it’s okay.”

  “Can we go get that beer now? All this jawing is making my mouth dry.”

  Birch wrapped his arms around his brother. “Thanks for . . . you know, everything.”

  On the fourth floor of the ugly, decayed building, Jeff Lassiter stared through the grimy curtains. “Now isn’t that just too cozy for words?” Too bad he couldn’t hear all the cutesy words that went with the hugs and kisses.

  Ten minutes later Jeff was adjusting his Ralph Lauren tie in the dingy bathroom mirror. His suit was custom-tailored, his shirt pristine white. He gave his hair a quick touch with the brush, knowing he could have posed as a Madison Avenue executive.

  At the door he debated whether he should lock it or not. Why bother, Celia wasn’t coming back. He walked out, leaving the door ajar. Tomorrow he’d think about where he was going to live. His attaché case full of cash secure in his hand, Jeff climbed behind the wheel of his car. His first and only stop for the evening would be the secret, private location where his Holy Grail warriors toiled night and day.

  The team, because that’s how Jeff thought of them, looked up at his entrance. They looked weary, red-eyed, and out of sorts. “Payday and dinnertime,” Jeff said cheerfully as he plopped down Styrofoam dinner cartons. “T-Bones, loaded baked potatoes, garden salad, carrots, and peas. Rolls, apple pie, and coffee. Your pay,” he said placing sealed envelopes, each with a name on the front of the envelope, on the long folding table that doubled as a desk and catchall. “Dig in, guys.”

  Jeff distanced himself from his employees to sit on a wooden crate across the room. From time to time he looked up to see how the crew was progressing. The moment he saw the men and women toss the throw away dinnerware into a barrel that served as a trash container, he walked over. In his hand was a thick envelope full of cash. There was no name on the front. “So, who gets the prize?” When there was no response to his question, Jeff repeated his question, a definite edge in his voice.

  A frizzy-haired young woman with owlish glasses spoke, the same edge in her voice. “No one in particular. We took a vote and will split the . . . prize.”

  “What that says to me is none of you are smart enough to do this project on your own. You’ve been depending on one another since we started. Teamwork is commendable. Split it. It makes me no never mind. Are we ready to wrap this up?”

  The same frizzy-haired woman spoke. “We want more money.”

  “I bet you do. So do I. Guess what, you aren’t getting it. We had a deal. Now, let’s see the prototype.” When no one moved to do his bidding, Jeff said, “How much more?”

  “Fifty thousand each.”

  Jeff shrugged. “Okay. Where’s the prototype?”

  “Where’s the money?”

  Jeff opened his attaché case. He’d known it would come down to this and was prepared. The envelopes were sealed, his workers’ names scrawled on the front. He pushed them across the table and watched through narrowed eyes as they were opened, the currency counted.

  A loose-jointed individual with two Ph.Ds., one in engineering and one in mathematics, bent over to lift a heavy carton onto the folding table. Thick binders and loose-leaf notebooks were placed next to the carton. “The specifications,” he said. Lassiter nodded.

  “We’re leaving. You got what you paid for.”

  “You were well compensated,” Lassiter said.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re dismissed. Let’s have a test run here.”

  “You read the instructions on page one and you pull the lever,” someone called over their shoulder.

  “This thing weighs a ton. How about carrying it out to my car.”

  “That’s not our job,” the Ph.D. said.

  “Asshole,” Jeff said under his breath.

  Jeff thought he heard the frizzy-haired woman say, “It takes one to know one.”

  Oh, well, one way or another, he’d get the prototype to his car. His next stop, Atlantic City, where he would peddle his Holy Grail to the highest bidder. On the other hand, Monte Carlo had a nice ring to it. He swayed dizzily when he thought of the millions of dollars that were within his grasp. He sat down on one of the stools t
o leaf through the specifications. The basic allure was the intermittent reward system that would allow a person to win enough to stay hooked—but not on a predictable schedule. That was good, he’d asked for this. Jeff flipped the page, mumbling as he did so. This prototype had the ability to become harder as the player’s skill increased, making it even more addictive. Designed to keep people fascinated—to keep them playing.

  Jeff continued to peruse the specs, grinning as he did so. What he had in front of him was worth every cent he’d paid out. Time to pack up his future and head on out. He wouldn’t be sorry to shake the dust from this town off his shoes.

  Jeff whistled. He had it all now, the ultimate gambling machine, the Thornton name, a fortune in cold hard cash—and one small niggling worry. It had been too easy to walk away with all that cold hard cash. Somewhere along the way, one or two of the owners should have kicked up a fuss. It was all just a little too easy. He started to sweat.

  Maybe it would be better to wait till morning, when the sun was out. Strange things happened to people in the dark. Besides, he needed a safe place to secure the prototype. In addition, he needed to make copies of the specifications and secure at least one copy in his safety deposit box. People in this town would kill to have what he was looking at. People killed and robbed just for a stake at the blackjack table.

  The long night stretched ahead of him. He passed the time memorizing the specifications and nibbling on the T-bones he picked out of the Styrofoam boxes in the barrel. Maybe he should revise his game plan. The French Riviera was on his list of places to visit someday. Why not now? He could survive there with his passable French. His arm snaked out for the phone. He hoped he would remember to have it turned off first thing in the morning.

  Thirty minutes later, Jeff stared down at his scribbled notes. He now had a confirmed reservation for Paris. He’d take in the sights for a few days, rent a car, and set up a new life for himself.

  Let the Thorntons self-destruct. He wouldn’t be around to witness the havoc. He’d be leading the good life, the easy life of the megarich. And he would be rich. There was no doubt about it. With what he had in his hand he could name his price and live happily ever after. He’d probably become fluent in French, marry an equally rich woman who would bear him beautiful children whom he would treasure more than his wealth. And when his beautiful, wealthy wife got fat and sloppy he’d take a mistress the way his own father had done. Oh, yes, life was looking wonderful.

  It didn’t occur to Jeffrey Lassiter that with his impending name change, he could self-destruct as well.

  20

  “A penny for your thoughts, Fanny.”

  “Marcus, I didn’t hear you come up behind me. I’m feeling sad, and I should be feeling happy. In a few hours it will be a new year. I’m so glad Sunny went back to her original plan to be married at sunrise on New Year’s Day. Christmas was so hectic with everyone here. Ruby and Metaxas are just as happy. Did you see that sparkler he gave her? I think it’s bigger than the one Elizabeth Taylor has. I felt like I should put my sunglasses on. They’re so happy. Do you feel like things are coming to closure for everyone, Marcus?”

  “In a way. Bear in mind, Fanny, when things come to an end there are always new beginnings. We’re the perfect example. On January 2 we start our new jobs. I cannot tell you how I’m looking forward to working again. We’ll be side by side in our Wellingtons.”

  Fanny laughed. “Everything is falling into place for everyone. That’s what really makes me happy. I love this mountain. If there was one constant in my life beside the kids, it was this mountain. There was a time when I knew every inch of it. The kids did, too. I think Iris plays with the kids going up and down the way I did. Sage built a fort once, and the kids ate and slept there for weeks on end.”

  “It looks very dry to me. I can’t get over what a strange year it’s been weather-wise. Floods and all those tornadoes in Texas and Oklahoma, the extra dry weather in the plains states, rain in the East. Not to mention that horrendous snowstorm in Vermont.”

  Fanny’s eyes were thoughtful as she stared across the mountain. “I’m surprised Chue didn’t find a way to water it. The mountain I mean. He’s so nervous about leaving tomorrow. As nervous as he is, that’s how excited his wife is. He’s never flown before. When he came here with his family, they traveled by boat. I tried to reassure him by saying he’d be flying in a Coleman-Thornton plane. I don’t know if it helped or not. Bess said John was going to slip him some tranquilizers so he’d sleep the whole trip. They’re leaving for town right after the weddings and will stay at Babylon, then take an early-morning flight on the second.”

  “Once he’s on his way he’ll be fine.”

  “He really doesn’t want to go, Marcus. I feel bad that we all talked him into it. He’s going along with this trip because he knows we want him to do it. It was an all-expense-paid trip from Mr. Hasegawa, so he couldn’t refuse and save face. It’s so still. Nothing seems to be moving. Do you think it’s an omen of some kind?”

  “No, I do not. What I do think is we should go indoors and join the family.”

  “You go in, Marcus. I want to stay out here a little longer. I have some visiting to do.”

  “Okay, but don’t be too long.”

  Fanny walked out to the cemetery and sat down on the low brick wall. As always, a feeling of calm and peace settled over her.

  “Now, aren’t you glad I stopped you from swallowing those pills?”

  “Ash! Guess you’re here for the wedding, huh? Yes, I am very glad you stopped me from taking the pills. I heard something in town yesterday, Ash.”

  “About Jeff?”

  “Yes. They’re saying he left for France. He built some kind of slot that’s going to net him a fortune. I feel relieved that he’s gone. I’m sorry if that bothers you. My question is, how do they know? Have they been following him? Sometimes it’s all so mysterious. I’m grateful that they stepped in where Billie is concerned, though. Sometimes I think I have a whole posse of unknown faces watching over us. Is it true, Ash?”

  “He’s gone, Fanny. Accept things for what they are. It’s easier that way. As much as I hate to say this, I must. Jeff was and is a bad seed. Say a prayer that he stays where he is for a long time. You don’t want or need him in your life. I don’t like the look of the mountain. It doesn’t feel right.”

  “You had to say that, didn’t you, Ash? It’s always like this. One problem is taken care of and laid to rest and another one crops up. You’re spooking me.”

  “You were spooked before I got here. I heard you talking to Marcus.”

  “You need to stop eavesdropping. We were making conversation, nothing more. Listen, Ash, are you going to do something . . . you know, spectacular for the double wedding? Or, are you going to stand in the background? How are you going to handle that? Are you ever going to tell me what was engraved on the back of your aviator wings?”

  “Nope.”

  “Okay. I should go in. Is everything okay up there? Now that things are almost back to normal what are you going to do with yourself?”

  “I thought I’d take in Atlantic City. Birch is hurting really bad. He might need me.”

  “That’s nice, Ash. Don’t let him follow in your footsteps.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Wear him down, Ash. You’re good at that. It always worked with me. I worry about him.”

  “I know you do, Fanny. He’s looking for something, searching.”

  “He’s looking for you, Ash. He just doesn’t know it. If he does, he won’t admit it. It’s a burden. Are you up to it?”

  “He’s my son, Fanny. Of course I’m up to it. How’s Jake?”

  “Jake is . . . Jake. He’s such a robust little boy. He’s bright, mischievous, and so honest and caring he makes me want to cry sometimes. He talks about you all the time. He adores Harry and, of course, you know he loves Sunny with all his little heart. You redeemed yourself with Jake in my eyes, Ash. That’s the main re
ason I put up with you. It’s okay to cry. Sometimes crying makes things better. Big guys cry all the time. That’s what all the slick magazines say. I should go in now. I’ll see you in the morning. It would be nice if Sallie and the others could attend. Do you think you could work on that, Ash? Now, about that signal—”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Okay, Ash. Good night.”

  “ ‘Night, Fanny.”

  Just as the sun rose over the mountain, the minister’s words rose to a crescendo. “Sunny and Harry, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!” The cleric repeated his words a second time, his words ringing over the mountain for Ruby and Metaxas.

  “Look!” Jake said.

  Fanny’s hand flew to her mouth as the others gasped. Up above, the clouds swirled and parted, then came together to form a pattern of figures. All the figures seemed to be holding hands. “Sallie, Philip, Devin, and Ash and Simon,” Fanny whispered.

  “Clouds, Fanny,” Marcus whispered.

  “Try telling that to them,” Fanny said, jerking her head in the direction of her family.

  Tears streamed down Sunny’s face. Sage offered up a snappy salute, while Ruby wailed her pleasure. Billie grinned from ear to ear, her fist shooting high in the air. Out of the corner of her eye, Fanny watched as Jake’s thumb rubbed the wings on his collar as Birch stared out across the mountain, his eyes glazed.

  “How’d you like that, Fanny?”

  “I was kind of expecting something a little more, you know, boisterous. This is a double wedding.”

  “You should have said you wanted boisterous. I thought subtle would do it.”

 

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