Authors: Fern Michaels
Kiss and Tell (26 page)
“Myra! What's wrong? You're whiter than the snow back in Virginia. You're scaring me, Myra. Talk to me.”
Myra sat down on the stool and took a deep breath. “Annie, I just saw Charles, and Fergus was with him.”
“Are you sure, Myra?”
“I should know my own husband, don't you think? And there was no mistaking Fergus. We just stared at each other.”
Annie looked around but could see neither man. “What does it mean?”
“I don't know, Annie, and I am not going to worry about it. Come along, I promised to take you to breakfast. I just have to cash this out.”
“Nah, leave it for someone else. Come on, I'll sign for breakfast. Remember, I own the damn joint.”
Myra laughed. “So you do, my friend, so you do.”
Christmas Eve
Las Vegas, Nevada
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t was four o'clock in the afternoon, and the din inside Babylon was at an all-time high. The excited squeals of winners, the bells and whistles, the loud buzz of thousands of people trying to hear one another over the noise were mind bending. On top of that, the voice blaring over a loudspeaker at ten-minute intervals, a voice that sounded suspiciously like the voice of the owner of Babylon, only compounded the frenzy of the patrons wanting to cash in and win
big
before the casino closed its doors at six o'clock, something totally unheard of in Las Vegas.
Not to be outdone, the other casino owners conferred and decided to do the same thing. After all, it was all for charity, and what better place or time to enact good deeds than Christmas Eve in Las Vegas. They all decided, with Annie de Silva leading the pack, that it would not be the end of the world to close their doors for twelve hours. It would be win win for every charity in Las Vegas. Thousands of kids would get to meet Santa, receive gifts, enjoy a kid's menu of kid-favorite food. There would be Christmas carols, Santa himself, picture taking, fun, and games.
The owners balked a little but gave in when they heard that Babylon employees were going to be outside dressed in elf costumes and pleading for donations for underprivileged children, with the promise that whatever amount was collected would be doubled by Babylon. Annie de Silva meant business.
The numerous chapels in the area got into the act because, as everyone knew, Christmas Eve was their biggest marrying day, with couples standing in line for their turn at the altar. The ministers promised to donate all marriage fees to the cause but only if the couples wanting to get married were sober. As one pastor put it, he did not give refunds.
Inside Babylon, at the Tiki Hut, Jack Emery commandeered a large table and ushered his friends in to sit down. A waitress dressed in a red outfit trimmed in white fur and wearing a rakish Santa hat complete with white tassel took their order. “Double cheeseburgers, fries, and strawberry milk shakes all around.”
“I don't think I ever worked so hard in all my life,” Ted Robinson said as he rubbed at his neck. “Those women are slave drivers. I personally decorated five Christmas trees, strung three miles of colored lights, up and down ladders all day. I don't know if I'll be able to walk tomorrow.”
“Look at my hands!” Espinosa said, holding out his resin-covered hands. “It won't come off.”
“Lava soap,” Harry Wong said.
“I'm so glad they kicked us out,” Jack said wearily. “I think I must have wrapped three hundred presents. But you know what? I'd do it again, too. This is a really great thing Annie is doing. And she got the other owners to do the same thing.”
“I had the poop detail,” Dennis volunteered. “Annie put me in charge of the animal parade. We had over two hundred dogs, ninety-seven cats, nine parrots, a bunch of other birds, and a baby alligator. And more were expected. I was never so happy as when Maggie came in and took over. It stinks in that place, too, but Maggie said she had some magic stuff to spray around. It was bedlam until she walked in, blew a whistle, and it all came together.” He looked down at his phone to see an incoming text:
No one has pooped since you left.
He shared the news with the guys at the table just as their food arrived. No one cared as they dived into the juicy Kobe burgers the Tiki Hut was known for.
Harry Wong looked around the table. Everyone stopped eating. Because . . . everyone knew that Harry rarely spoke unless he had something to say. “This is going to sound weird, but when I came out of the men's room, I thought . . . I'm sure I must be wrong, but I could swear that I saw Charles. Then people got in my way, and whoever it was that I saw was gone. I actually walked around to see if I could see whoever it was I had seen, but the guy was gone.”
“Well, I can top that,” Abner Tookus said. “I thought I saw that guy Fergus, who hooked up with Annie for a while. The one who used to work for Scotland Yard. I only ever saw him twice, but I have a good eye and a really good memory. I'd swear it was him.”
Espinosa said, “Just goes to prove everyone in life has a double.” Everyone agreed and went back to eating.
Jack changed the subject. “I handed in my resignation to the firm before we left to come out here. As of January 1, I am a free agent.” Congratulations were offered all around.
“What are you going to do?” Espinosa asked.
“Well, I tried talking to all of you over Thanksgiving out at Pinewood. None of you got back to me. I'm going to look for a moneyman who will back my enterprise. Because to do what the girls did all those years, I'm going to need serious funding.”
Dennis sat up straight and squared his shoulders. “Then I'm your man!”
The others stared at Dennis, their jaws dropping.
“I have been wondering what I was going to do with all that money. I think my benefactors would approve. No strings. We put it in a pot and take it out as needed. Deal?”
“Kid, I like your style,” Jack said as he grinned from ear to ear.
A lot of backslapping started as Dennis beamed.
It was great to be one of the guys. His fist shot high in the air.
“This calls for another round of milk shakes. Chocolate this time,” Ted said as he flagged down the waitress.
Harry was so excited, he stood up and bellowed at the top of his lungs, “Merry Christmas!” Everyone in the Tiki Hut clapped as Annie's voice blared over the loudspeaker, telling everyone they had ten minutes to clear the building.
“Merry Christmas, everyone!” she bellowed.
If you enjoyed KISS AND TELL,
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HE KLIEG LIGHTS SEEMED EXTRA-BRIGHT, WAY TOO
HOT. TWO MINUTES TO GO.
Please, God, let me get off this stage in one piece. The headdress seemed heavier than usual. Eighty seconds. Kick high. Twirl. Smile. Sixty seconds. Kick. Twirl. Smile. Show those teeth. Forget the sweat dripping into your eyes. You know the routine. You can do it blindfolded. I'm burning up. Thirty seconds. Hold it together. You can do this. Ten seconds. One last kick. Follow, Connie. Then you can collapse.
The music reached a tumultuous crescendo, and she was off the stage, the Vegas crowd enthusiastically shouting their approval of the chorus line's performance. Her long legs were so wobbly, she could barely stand. Connie reached for her.
“Trish, you okay? Your timing was off, but I don't think anyone else noticed. God, girl, what's wrong? Here, let me take your headdress. Trish, you're burning up! Girls, come here. Something's wrong with Trish!”
The chorus line swarmed around Trish just as the floor gofer, a young guy named Ernie, tried to fight his way through the scantily clad women.
He was waving a folded note at Trish and fought to be heard above the clamoring voices surrounding her.
“That guy who's been here every night this week asked me to give you this.” He thrust out the hand holding the note. “It's a note asking you to have a drink with him, and that's a thousand-dollar bill folded inside it. A thousand-dollar bill! Do you know how rare those are? The guy is a
prince.
That means he's royalty!” Ernie screamed, his freckles lighting up like mini Christmas lights.
“Prince, king, who the hell cares? Get out of here, Ernie,” Connie shouted. “Can't you see that something is wrong with Trish?”
Trish sucked in her breath as she felt a cool cloth being run over her face and neck. It felt wonderful. Because Trisha Holiday was a kind and caring person, she struggled to speak. “Give it back, Ernie, and tell him, âThank you but no thanks.' ”
“But it's a thousand-dollar bill, Trish! Are you sure?”
“She's sure. Now, get out of this room. We need to get changed,” someone shouted, menace ringing in her voice.
Ernie ran for the door, his spiked hair moving in his own breeze.
“I'm okay, girls. Just help me get out of this costume. Guess I got that flu bug that some of you had. Seriously, I'm okay. I'm going to go home to bed. I'll drink lots of juice and take some aspirin. That's what you all said you did.”
“You're running a high fever, and you're flushed,” someone shouted.
Someone else held out an aspirin bottle. A third chorus girl handed Trish a glass of water. She gulped at the little white pills as she peeled off her heavy costume. Someone took it from her hands and hung it up alongside her headdress. She struggled to pull on an oversize sweatshirt over her head, but in the end she needed help. Sweatpants followed. She felt someone slipping her sneakers on her feet, and someone else tied them. A puffy down jacket was placed around her shoulders. Her purse was thrust into her hands.
Time to go home to her cozy apartment. “Thanks, girls. I'm okay now. Tell Nathan I don't think I'll be at work tomorrow. God, he's going to fire me! He gave me such a hard time when I asked for a week off to go home to help see my sister through her divorce. I need this job.”
“Don't worry about it, Trish. We'll threaten a walkout if he pulls something like that,” Connie said. Trish heard murmurs of agreement backing Connie up. They were a great bunch of girls, and she loved every one of them.
“I think you should get a room here at the casino,” Connie said. “Or I'll drive you home.”
Trish shrugged into the down jacket. Somebody else pulled up the zipper. “Like I can afford to stay here! Get real, Connie! I can make it home on my own. I feel better now that I'm out of that heavy costume. Thanks for the offer, though. I'll see you when I see you.”
Trish was out of the dressing room and walking on wobbly legs. She was burning up and chilly at the same time, and she wasn't even outside yet. Thank God she had a nearby parking space. She crossed her fingers that her old Honda Civic would start up and not fail her. Then she crossed her fingers again that the heater would work. It was all she could do to pull open the heavy stage door, but she managed to do so by utilizing both hands, using her shoulder to hold it in place. As she stepped outside, the door slammed shut as a blast of arctic air assaulted her.
Trish could see her car and the expanse of asphalt she had to traverse to get to it. She could do it. She was aware of a small group of people to her right. God, what if she got mugged? She almost laughed at the prospect. She had forty-six dollars in her purse and a single credit card that had nothing left on it. She stepped forward and felt the wind buffeting her as she struggled to get to her car.
She was less than two feet from her Honda when her knees buckled and she collapsed to the ground. Fortunately, the thick, puffy jacket helped to break her fall. She heard voices, felt herself being picked up, and heard someone say something in a language she didn't understand.
Strangely enough, she felt safe in the arms holding her. She was being carried.
Somewhere? Hospital? Back to the casino?
The conversation surrounding her sounded agitated by then. The people were arguingâshe could tell that by the tone, even though she could not understand the words they said. One voice, a male voice, was higher. It was a nice voice. A concerned voice. A voice of authority.
Trish struggled to open her eyes, but they felt like they had lead weights on them. She looked up into the handsomest face she'd ever seen in her life. “Please don't hurt me,” she whispered. She wondered if the handsome man had heard what she had said. Or did she just think she had said those words aloud?
“I would never hurt you, Trisha Holiday.” They were in an elevator, and the voices were still jabbering in that strange language. They, whoever they were, weren't going to hurt her. At that moment, she didn't care what happened next. All she wanted was a warm bed, with warm blankets wrapped tightly around her, so she could sleep. Sleep. Until her fever broke. Beyond that, she just couldn't make herself care.
The women of the Sisterhood have long been aided in their quest for justice by the men in their lives. Now, for the first time, the guys are stepping into the spotlight in a brand-new three-part adventure!
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Jack Emery, husband of Sisterhood member Nikki, finds himself at loose ends. Frustrated with the limits of the criminal-justice system, he bands together with his friends. Along with Ted
Robinson, Joe Espinosa, Harry Wong, Bert Navarro, and Jay Sparrow, they form an off-the-grid spy group called BOLO Consultants. The “guy group” tackles cases overlooked by the D.A. and FBI with, of course, a little help from the Sisterhood!
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A Zebra eBook exclusive, on sale in September 2014!
Photo by M2IFOTO © 2006
