“There’ll be plenty of time for public shaming, if it really is them,” Jeannie’d said before leaving the house, helping her strategize. Stella was glad now they’d decided to play it cool. Jeannie was right. It was best to get the prize in the bag first, and then to work out their next moves, if indeed Huntleys were the culprits.
It was hard to keep a level head. It wasn’t Jeannie who couldn’t get James Huntley out of her head, out of her heart, out of her dreams...
A congratulations message popped onto her phone, and she checked it. Maybe it was from James! He must have yet another new phone.
Congrats, Stella. Champagne? I’m in Sydney tomorrow. Dinner? Will pick you up at 5. Damian.
Dinner and sex, more like. No strings attached, as usual. No commitment.
Fuck off, Damian.
She blocked the number. Put him out of her head. Stood tall and smiled at Ruben who was coming over to interview her.
Chapter 34
Vegas airport was a misery, a mix of the grey-faced walking dead who’d drunk too much, gambled all night and lost, heading out, and the irrepressible optimists on the way in, who couldn’t get to the machines fast enough and were sure James would get there first.
How he detested the place! The sooner he saw Will and went home, the better.
A wide woman with a wig and too much matching luggage was blocking his way, fiddling with her mobile phone.
“Excuse me, madam,” he squeezed past. She was wearing sunglasses. Maybe she simply couldn’t see anyone else.
A miserable looking woman trying to feed a crying child in a stroller was waiting patiently while her husband had another desperate punt at an airport poker machine. The thing was flashing gold treasure symbols and making sounds of victory, while her husband punched the side of it and put out his hand for more money from her. James wanted to tell her to go, get on a plane without him, head for the hills. Who needed a husband with a gambling problem? He hoped against hope that Will’s treatment would be effective, that his mother’s insistence that Will attend the clinic had come in time to stop any serious gambling habit from developing.
Outside the airport, it was flat and dry, with gambling logos flashing like fishing lures in the beige desert. It was a world away from the gentle southern hills of France, green and rolling.
His mother hadn’t done so badly, he reasoned, especially now that she had another mission. He’d left Émile and Cynthia sorting through some of the ground floor furniture and making more plans for the front room. Émile promised them both the shop would open by April, in time for the Easter crowds and a busy summer.
He wasn’t surprised Will wasn’t there to meet him. Since when did Will think of anyone but himself? He wasn’t hopeful anything could be retrieved here, but he had to give Will a chance. He was his brother after all.
The Uber driver was also hidden behind big sunglasses, with a large G on them. He was wearing a number of gold rings and didn't talk at all. The music was loud and pumping and giving James a headache.
As they swooped in past the strip, James was astonished to see not one, not two, but no less than three Elvis chapels of love. He’d forgotten Vegas was also a wedding destination. As they stopped at traffic lights, he noted up to seven shops selling wedding dresses. An idea began to form.
He hadn’t known what to say to Will, beyond asking him to clean up his act. Now there might be another opportunity. Something concrete. Something Will could turn his competitive mind towards, beyond the big win.
He wanted to give him another chance, even if it was the last one. He owed him that.
They arrived at the clinic.
This place looked as fake as the rest of Vegas, with two ornate plastic hedges framing the front door. Was nothing authentic here?
There was too much marble for the place to be taken seriously, surely.
The receptionist’s false eyelashes looked like insects and lips pumped up like sausages. James tried not to judge. At least she was trying.
She showed him into a large room with a fountain in the middle and french faux production furniture perfectly spaced around it. It could be a film set.
Will entered in a check shirt and jeans, flicking his bleached blond fringe out of his eyes with a toss of his head and fixing him with that impish smile of his childhood; the “hey, bro, you’ll forgive me again, won’t you?” smile.
James was never sure how he’d find his brother. He’d seen it all before - lies, charm, anger, defensiveness.
Today he seemed surprisingly mild. Maybe they had him on some kind of sedative. Or could this place actually be making a difference? James barely dared to hope.
“Yo, bro!”
“Bro!”
They did that awkward kind of male embrace, a handshake and a quick thump on the back.
“So? Good news? Bad news?”
“Up to you,” said James.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
James had tried to work this out on the flight. How to spell it out so it was crystal clear.
“Is there a garden, Will, some place else we can go to talk?” The splashing fountain and ornate decor was just too Hollywood. He needed to get Will’s full attention.
“You’re in luck, bro. Getting sprung from here for my afternoon outing in about 20 minutes. I’ve been good. I get three hours today.”
“Oh?”
“Keep away from gambling and I get to do other things.”
“So what’re you going to do?”
“Head for the hills.”
It was the same phrase he’d use in the airport for the poor woman married to a gambler. Was this some kind of weird dream? Anything could happen in Vegas.
“You got your running gear?”
“Sure.” James never travelled without it. It was the way he relaxed, but it was new for Will. Hopefully it was a good sign he’s working on a better lifestyle.
“Always made fun of you with your cross country running, bro. What a ‘sport’! No ‘balls.’ Ha! Well. Turns out you were onto something. Come on. Leave your bag in my room. Runners on. Take a jacket. Gets a bit breezy up there. Dr Bakker’ll be here soon.”
“Dr Bakker?”
“One of the therapists. You’ll see. She’s cool.” If Will was enjoying holding off on divulging some secret, being the only one in the know, then James was happy to go along with it. He’d made a pledge to himself to stay three days. Make it clear to Will the gambling must stop, or he’d be cut off from Huntleys’ payroll for good.
As they waited in the foyer, doing some stretches, a tall, slim woman with long blond hair in a high ponytail turned up in a kind of lab coat with a name badge. Her smile at Will was warm yet professional. She glanced from Will to James and back again, taking in their running gear.
“My brother James, Dr Bakker. The responsible one. The good one,” said Will.
“Now, now. Positive self talk, please, Will. Wanna try that again?” she said quietly and calmly as she extended her hand to James. It was a cool handshake. Strong. Controlled. This woman was no fool.
“Just joking. Great to see James. Truly. All the way from Australia, via France. Been a couple of years since we’ve seen each other, I reckon. Jamie’s a runner, too, Dr Bakker. Okay if he comes with us?”
“Sure.”
Dr Bakker entered something on a tablet, got Will to swish his signature onto it with one finger and left it with the receptionist.
“Back at 7, Mindy,” she said. As Mindy fluttered her heavily mascaraed eyelashes at both men, it felt a bit like the old days, but James wasn’t interested. His mind was full of Stella and his haste to see her again.
They exited another door, which led through a long corridor to a parking area where Dr Bakker unlocked one of the white suburbans.
When she took off her coat to get into the driver’s seat, James sucked in a breath. She was in shorts, her legs long and tanned. Surprising. Looked like Dr Bakker was an athlete. No wonder Will was showing some int
erest.
“How long you staying, James?” Dr Bakker asked.
“Few days. Just arrived. Where are we going?”
“Northwest. Mount Charleston. Spring Mountain Range. Toiyabe National Forest. Maybe you’ve heard of it? We’ve been across a few times, Will and I. I’ve got a new trail I want to show him today. You okay with a few miles? There are loops, so we can cut back, and rest stops if you want to wait us out. I promised Will this new one. We’re up to 17 miles now.”
“Okay with me.”
“You won’t mind if we have our consultation now, will you? Will has already told me he doesn’t mind if you listen in. It was completely his idea you come along. Drive takes about a half hour. Some regulation questions, then we’re free to enjoy ourselves.”
“Fine. Fine with me. I’m jet lagged, anyway. Taking a doze.”
After a long stretch of outer suburbia, the beige desert slipped by beside them as they headed for the mountain range and its dusting of snow. Dr Bakker’s questions and Will’s answers were muffled by the sound of the engine and the road. She was examining him about what “just joking” really meant. James was intrigued, but he couldn’t really hear their exchange, and his eyelids were heavy.
James woke as the car began to climb. They were in foothills, with the green of pine trees a welcome change from the glare.
The engine came to a halt and Dr Bakker unlocked the vehicle’s doors. She handed out cool water bottles and some energy bars and offered sunscreen.
“Gotta look after ourselves,” she said, her eyes wise. It occurred to James this Dr Bakker might have heard of him already, and he wondered what part he might play in his brother’s complex psychiatric makeup. He’d always tried to be fair, though it was easier to expect the worst of Will, especially in recent years.
While it was a pleasant surprise to find Will amenable and inclusive for once, and this unconventional doctor was the last thing he would have expected, the jury was still out on Will as far as he was concerned. None of this was going to change the message he had for him. It just might influence the way he said it, and when.
The sun was bright and still hot overhead, even for winter; the air dry and a bit hazy.
He stepped over to an information board to do his warm ups and check the map. It was a cross country runners’ paradise, with trails of all lengths, and a wide variety of vistas.
After days of travelling and too much cheese and wine with his mother and Émile, James was raring to go and was pleased to see the same anticipation reflected in Dr Bakker and Will’s faces.
“Right,” she said. “This is not a competition. We’re pacing ourselves. This is for fun. This is a kind of reward for Will for keeping away from gambling, and a great alternative. It’s been how long now, Will?”
“Three weeks. Longest stretch ever.”
“And how are you feeling?”
They’d started to jog, away from the parking area and along a trail, startling a bird or two, who swooped out over the distance beside them, up into higher peaks.
“Feeling great. Never felt so good. Forgot what it was like to be out in the open air like this. Sky running. I’m a sky runner, James. Not all easy, but look at this!”
The heat of the valley dropped away as they ran in easy companionship.
“You do a lot of this?” James asked Dr Bakker.
“Yeah. I’ve always loved it. It’s becoming more and more popular.”
“Unusual treatment regime.”
“Oh. It’s up to our clients. Will’s a natural. Not everyone’s so athletic in the first place, but it looks like running runs in your family, so to speak.”
“Will’s the star with anything sporty,” James said. Will punched him on the arm, though he was clearly pleased to hear his older brother finally concede he was actually better at something. “It’s true. I ran because I had to do something. Our school insisted we do some sport, and running was my choice. Will was the one who always got the ribbons and the medals. Our dad was so proud.”
“We’ve been talking about rewards, intrinsic and extrinsic.”
“Dopamine,” Will explained. “Addictive. Poker machine manufacturers know that. Turns out there are better ways to get high. Literally.”
From here, the view was spectacular.
They took a rest stop and enjoyed a cool drink at a clearing. Will pointed back at the cluster of towers in the flat desert.
“So tiny. Big temptation up close. Not so bad up here. Cooler air. Cooler head.”
“Will’s doing so well,” Dr Bakker said. “He’s a natural runner, but he’s also been working hard.”
Will basked in the praise.
James resisted the temptation to mention Will had been running from responsibility all his life. It was in everyone’s interests that Will recovered and got his life on track.
“What’s that?” James pointed to a body of water.
“Hah!” said Will, the local expert now. “Hoover Dam.” He stared meaningfully at Dr Bakker, and smiled.
“Hoover Dam?”
“Big Depression project. Colorado River. Can’t believe you never heard about the Colorado River. See that, right near it? Boulder City. That’s where the project was centred. It’s got a good exhibition. What do you say, Lisa? Can I get leave to show James Boulder City? Meet you there tomorrow, maybe?”
Dr Bakker was silent, regarding the two brothers. What was going on here, James wondered. Maybe she worried James would lead Will astray.
“You could join us, Lisa,” Will said. “Say. Why don’t you? It’s your day off, isn’t it? You know the place better than I do. Let’s treat James to some of those proper American pancakes. Join us? 10am?”
“Okay.”
Will was thrilled, and James was happy enough. He’d envisaged days of hospital corridors, not sightseeing. He still needed to work out how to talk about the future with Will; wondered if Dr Bakker could give him a prognosis for Will or at least a bit of professional perspective.
He seized the chance to speak with her when they started up again and Will sprinted ahead, still needing to win, needing to prove himself. Some things never changed.
“My brother,” James began. “I don’t know how much you can tell me, but presumably this is some kind of treatment he’s on with you.”
“He’s responding so well.”
“I can see that. Seems happy. Seems stable. How long has he been at the clinic? How much longer does he have to go?”
“That’s up to Will. He’s been with us nearly the full three weeks. Out of trouble. No drugs, no drink, no gambling. We help, but he’s the one who has to do the work, and he’s doing it. He’s complying. He’s a mild case. It’s good he’s come to us so soon. Prognosis is good in cases like this.”
“And this running thing. Do you do this with everyone?”
“Oh no! This is my hobby. Will expressed a real interest in it, so we’ve been able to weave it into his treatment plan. It’s important to have something to replace the addictions, you understand, to find a healthy alternative. Some of our clients play music, learn to dance, take up cooking ... anything that has a positive benefit, and ideally something that involves others in their lives. It’s about reconnecting, how we spend our time and finding the things that reward us. Will can keep up the running after he leaves us, of course. It’s a great group of people. There are comps. He’d do very well if he chose to continue. I have no doubt. And there’s something about the fresh air, and the exercise. This is what human bodies are meant to do. For people with a lot of adrenalin, it brings a kind of calm.”
“I discovered that in school,” James said. “That’s why I’ve kept it up. Not the same distances of course. There’s never enough time. But yeah. It’s kind of grounding. Literally.”
“And it’s so free from all the pressures and stresses. Traffic, money. Running’s a great, healthy escape.”
“Agreed.” James’s phone dinged. “Okay. Right now, I need to escape from the escap
e. You two are certainly fitter than I am. How about I sit out the next loop while you two keep running. I have emails to catch up on, a few calls I need to make.”
“Of course.” And she sprinted away from him, pony tail swinging back and forth, shining in the sun. She seemed younger without the doctors’ coat. Hadn’t Will called her “Lisa”? Was Will onto his next conquest? Or maybe Dr Lisa Bakker was onto hers. James was confused. Surely dating your therapist would be right on the edge of wrong. Exactly where Will liked life best. James shook his head.
Chapter 35
The real reason James was taking a breather was that he wanted to try to catch Stella by phone. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Was she thinking of him? Would she reconsider his offer of her joining the business? It felt like weeks since he’d seen her. Christmas had come and gone.
In the car on the way back from Bowral, she’d asked him to give her some space, not to crowd her. But how much space was enough? She’d accepted his Christmas gift, but given no response to his photograph from France.
Surely she must be thinking of him sometimes, however busy she was. They’d been so good together that stormy weekend. He knew it sounded like a cliche, but he was incredibly optimistic about their future together. She was perfect for his business, perfect in bed. More than that. He cared about her, cared for her in a way he’d never cared about Helene. Helene had been a habit, a conventional kind of expectation, and ultimately, a great disappointment to him - no doubt she’d felt the same way about him. But Stella? He couldn’t get her out of his head. She brought out the best in him. How he wished she were there, beside him. He wanted to run his fingers through her dark hair, to curl it behind her ear, to lift her chin and seek out those lips, to hold her close and closer.
He knew then, with the winter sun weak above him and the fresh air of Arizona in his lungs, he must tell Stella. What did he have to lose from coming on too strong? He had to know if she was feeling the same way, and if she was...
James found a rock at the far end of the lookout, forcing himself to drink some water and admire the view again before pulling out his phone. The scenery was striking, so green and vertical, the spiky mountains dusted with snow, and in the distance, the desert was flat and brown and barren. It was a land of contrasts.
House of Diamonds Page 25