The Wager (13 page)

D
ogzilla, Trump, Gigi, Bookkeeper, Inferno and Inuvik frolicked with each other in the ocean off the Dog Walking Park. The tide was in and Gus Gustafson marvelled at the beauty of the place, even in late Autumn. A flotilla of Canada Geese swam by as though they were teasing the dogs to come after them. All five dogs crashed into the ocean and the birds took off into the blue sky quite out of reach of the dogs.

Gus found himself going over in his mind the latest developments since Bea was rescued. He realised that Gloria was visiting Bea at the Funeral Home almost every day. He gave a sigh of relief that he had managed to convince Turk O'Brien to keep a low profile in case a description of him had been given to the police by the laundry worker he had spoken to at the Care Home.

"That fellow is so stubborn," Gus thought. He thought of how Malcolm had his team of lawyers working on some solution to the problem and hoped sincerely they would come up with one soon. Gus stared at Art Maloney who was standing with Gus watching his Greyhound, Bookkeeper, swim about with the other dogs. He noted that Tyler Thompson had both his dog Inferno and Turk's dog Dogzilla with him.

Trump was now equipped with a remote electric collar and Gus was holding on to the remote in case the large Sheep Dog showed signs of his customary harassing of Gigi.

"Dogs don't stand a chance of disobeying now," Gus concluded as he pressed the warning button on the remote. Trump must have heard the beeping because he quickly moved away from Gigi. "Smart of Turk to obtain that device for me."

Loud barking alerted Gus, Tyler and Art to the fact that they were no longer alone. Linda Daniel's Doberman, Cleo, and Pegasus, Esther Goodenough's Wheaton Terrier, joined Gus as their mistresses reached him. Gus noted that Esther was using an electric leash and that Pegasus no longer was pulling her along. She removed the leash leisurely and Pegasus joined the other dogs in the water. He noticed Art Maloney give the former fight attendant a kiss and a warm embrace.

"Missed my chance," he laughed to himself, thinking of Gloria's wager.

Gus noted a trace of sadness in Linda Daniel's eyes as she watched Art embrace Esther.

"She's got the hots for Malcolm," he guessed. "Or maybe it's just Gloria's wager. Actually I wonder what's up with Malcolm. I haven't seen him since he got out of the hospital. Guess he's taking care of his horse racing problems." Gus decided to help Linda's cause.

"Gloria and I are holding a party next Friday for Malcolm," he improvised. "It's his eightieth birthday. Will you join us, Linda? And the two of you as well?" he invited Esther and Art. "It's a surprise party."

Art and Esther nodded in agreement as did Linda.

"Quite an adventure the other night," Art Maloney said exuberantly for him.

"You've got quite a talent as an imposter," Linda joked..

A week later Linda Daniels drove up to Gus and Gloria's sprawling bungalow with trepidation. She wondered

if Malcolm's increased attention to her while he was in the hospital was any indication he was viewing her as anything more than a close friend. She had not heard anything from him since his release. She remembered her deep disappointment when she had turned up at the hospital only to find him gone. He had not sent her a message.

"He's so egotistical," she mused. "He thinks of no one but himself. No wonder his wife left him."

The driveway was already full of cars and Linda had to back out onto the road to park.

A crowd of dog walking club members was spread all over the inside pool and living room area. Linda noticed an empty chair beside Honey Pratt and Tyler Thompson and idled over.

"How was New Orleans?" she said to the newly returned duet.

"The jazz concerts were wonderful," Honey told her as Tyler greeted Linda warmly and then moved to give Gloria a hand with circulating the appetisers, "but my daughter is having a ft. Want's to know why I'm dating a Caucasian and showing him off to all her friends in New Orleans."

"Really?"

"Not only that, she's concerned about Tyler's age. Thinks I'm losing it completely. Honey gave a quick summary of her daughter's objections.

Honey said that her daughter had told her that she was losing it big time. That dating Tyler was just asking for pain at his eventual death. Honey told Linda that she had retaliated by saying that Tyler was not like an older, rescue dog from a Dog Pound with a very limited number of years. That humans had a good chance now of living until they were at least a hundred.

"You mean you told her that Tyler was not a rescue senior?" Linda choked.

"Exactly, and that he and I had a lot in common like love of dogs, the same brand of Bourbon, Dixieland Jazz, and New Orleans, not to mention that his Sun in Capricorn trine my own Moon in Taurus is one of the best astrological compatibility signs."

Linda laughed.

"How did you find that out?"

"An Astrology compatibility analysis, Sugar. I don't enter any relationship without one now."

"Maybe that's where I went wrong. I should have had one of those done years ago."

"Good thing that Charlotte assumes that my relationship with Tyler is platonic. Doesn't think a man his age can still get it on. If she knew what really went on down in New Orleans it would be she having the personality fracture not me."

"You're not going to tell her?"

"Y'all think I'm crazy, Sugar. That girl would have the rest of my family up here trying to get me back to what they think is my normal state of mind."

Linda laughed as Honey related how she had lied to Charlotte for the second time when she had phoned down late one evening as Tyler and she had just got back from the large New Orleans cemetery and they were changing clothes to head out again to do some more dancing at the famous Preservation club.

"Told her I was retiring early for the night as the country air had tired Tyler out. She was only too eager to believe me."

"Knowing Tyler the exact opposite was occurring, wasn't it?"

"You're right on Sugar."

Their conversation ceased as Gus Gustafson shouted "Quiet, he's coming!" Everyone turned toward the front door.

As it opened, Monica Mason came through followed by an unusually well dressed Malcolm Brooks on crutches. Linda's mouth few open in astonishment. She felt considerable pain around her heart as her romantic illusions faced the light of reality.

"He must have called her," she thought. "The moment he got out of the hospital. Linda felt like someone had struck her in the stomach. Her cheeks turned bright red and she felt two inches high.

"I wonder what's wrong with me," she thought. "How could I think I could possibly compete with Malcolm's usual dates."

"Surprise," everyone in the place yelled. Linda wished she could be anywhere but in Gus Gustafson's living room.

Linda noted that things were getting worse. Malcolm was heading straight in her direction guiding Monica toward her.

"Linda, you remember my girl friend Monica," he said gruffly.

"Who is Linda?" Monica demanded.

"You remember. You met her at the hospital. Linda is the veterinarian that keeps Trump and the rest of my animal menagerie in good health."

"Oh, of course, the animal attendant."

Linda forced herself to put out her hand as the much younger woman put out hers. Linda noted with a very sick feeling that Monica was wearing an engagement ring. Her heart felt like several swords were piercing it. Her eyes went down to the young woman's waist. Linda realised it had expanded considerably.

"She's pregnant! That explains it."

"Malcolm and I are engaged," Monica told her.

"He doesn't even know that I am attracted to him," Linda

realised with increasing pain. "It isn't like he was deliberately trying to wound me."

"Congratulations," she managed to gasp. Honey Pratt put a empathetic hand to her shoulder.

"Isn't it great! Malcolm is taking me on a world cruise on our honeymoon."

"Happy Birthday to you," Linda welcomed Gus Gustafson coming into the room with a huge birthday cake with eight lines of candles burning on it. Everyone started singing. Linda breathed a huge sigh of relief as Malcolm and Monica moved toward the well-stocked table and the cake.

Malcolm took a huge intake of breath and attempted to blow out the candles. He managed all but five and quickly exterminated them in another breath. Gus reached for a bottle of champagne and poured Malcolm and Monica the first drinks. They drank it rather quickly.

"Too quickly," Linda thought.

Everyone was congratulating Malcolm on his birthday and engagement. Linda could see her old friend enjoying the party a little too much. She frowned as his nephew, Lorne Brooks, was present at the party and kept refilling Malcolm's glass every time it emptied. She could see Lorne glaring at Monica occasionally when he thought she was not looking.

"She's ruining his inheritance plans," Linda realized.

'I don't like Malcolm drinking like that," Linda thought. "And I hope he's not going to drive after all those drinks." Linda watched as Malcolm continued to click glasses and drink down the champagne Lorne poured for him. The party goers were giving him and Monica well wishes.

Gus came over and gave Linda a hug of sympathy.

"You all right?"

Linda shook her head. She felt herself under extreme

emotional stress and moved toward the door. She bumped into Lorne Brooks on the way.

"Leaving so soon?" Lorne demanded as Linda moved past him.

Linda noted that Lorne had a camera around his neck and was furiously taking pictures of Malcolm and Monica in between refilling Malcolm's champagne glass. He had an obsessed look in his eyes.

"Sick animal at my office," Linda lied. By the time she had gotten her SUV halfway down the road Linda was trying to shut out her pain and trying to laugh at herself for even daring to think of trying again to attract Malcolm's romantic interest.

"He's out of my league," she decided.

Her Doberman, Cleo, greeted her warmly as she went into her house. "I had best restrict myself to animal companions," Linda decided. "Dogs are more dependable, loyal to their owners and less complicated anyway."

Thoughts of Malcolm would not stay out of her mind. Linda pulled out her tranquillizer case and stared at the pills. Linda shook her head as she realised what she was going to have to do. She was going to have to follow Honey Pratt's advice and not see him anymore. Linda decided to resign as Malcolm's veterinarian. Linda managed to summon up her will power. She went into the kitchen and flushed her tranquillizers down the drain.

"I'm never going to become a drug addict," she vowed.

"I've got to stop seeing Malcolm," her mind told her. "Surely I'll eventually stop thinking about him."

Several hours later Malcolm staggered out to his Cadillac. Lorne Brooks and Monica Mason were with him.

"You better drive, Lorne," Malcolm ordered.

"What's the matter? You getting old? Can't hold your liquor anymore?"

Malcolm looked at Monica.

"You drive?"

Monica staggered noticeably. Malcolm realised she was physically having trouble with the pregnancy. Considerable nausea and a draining of her energy.

"Never mind."

Malcolm made a monumental effort to force his eyes to focus. He opened the car door and sank down into the driver's seat. Lorne helped Monica around to the passenger side and got her into her seat belt. He went into the back seat.

Malcolm started the car. He slowly moved out of the driveway narrowly missing Frank Simpson's Mercedes in the process. Malcolm stared at the white line. There seemed to be two of them. Malcolm cautiously pulled the car into the side of the road.

"There's no way I should drive." He removed the keys and tried to hand them to his nephew in the back seat.

"What's the matter Malcolm? You getting old or something?"

"Show him Malcolm!" Monica demanded.

Malcolm sighed and pulled the car back onto the road again. He made it down two side streets but when he went to pull onto the freeway to drive Lorne home his coordination was not up to it. He missed the final turn onto the freeway, went off onto a grassy area off the shoulder and crashed into a tree.

"Did you hear the bad news about Malcolm?" Linda was surprised to hear Honey Pratt ask as they met the next morning at the dog walking park.

"What news?" Honey handed her the morning paper.

"Millionaire arrested for DUI." Linda looked at the

picture under the headline. Malcolm was looking much less than his dignified self as some cameraman had captured a shot of him and Monica inside his luxury Cadillac. The Cadillac was resting against a tree next to the freeway. Linda noticed that the windshield was cracked and Monica had blood on her face. She was wearing an extremely angry expression.

"Oh my God! He must be mortified," Linda exclaimed.

"He didn't injure his leg again did he?"

"Just his pride," Honey laughed.

"I hope that doesn't cause complications with the baby."

Y
ou're terminated Lorne," a furious Malcolm Brooks informed his nephew as his Senior Vice President, Reg Sanderson, looked on in agreement. "You'll find that we've given you a very generous retirement pension."

Lorne stared around his uncle's comfortable and impressive office and then at his uncle in complete astonishment.

"But it's you that got plastered all over the morning newspaper."

Malcolm angrily told him that he had called an old friend at the newspaper that morning to find out the name of the cameraman who took the picture. That he had been curious because no one had seemed to be around the car after he hit the tree and the police had been rather slow to arrive.

"My friend told me in confidence that you were the one that sent the picture by courier in time for the deadline."

Lorne's face suddenly went completely white. He turned away from Malcolm and looked at Reg Sanderson in shock.

"What about Malcolm? He's the one that should be terminated. Driving under the influence; knocking up a young woman. You want a CEO who shows such poor judgement?"

"Let it go, Lorne," Malcolm felt his anger dissipating. He was thinking of his brother's wife and the pain she would experience if she knew the truth about her son.

"The announcement will say only that you requested an early retirement," Reg Sanderson assured Lorne.

Malcolm sighed as tears came into his nephew's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Lorne. There's nothing else I can do. I demand loyalty at the very least from my top executives."

"You bastard!" Something snapped in Lorne's mind. He sprang at Malcolm and grabbed him by his suitcoat. He started to swing at Malcolm with his right hand. Malcolm grabbed his arm in mid motion and expertly put it into an armlock. Lorne went down onto his knees and broke into tears.

"Take Lorne back to his office and help him pack up, will you Reg?"

The Senior Vice President nodded and pulled Lorne up from the floor. He led Malcolm's nephew toward the closed door.

"I'll make you pay for this!" Lorne shouted. Reg Sanderson opened the door and pushed the distraught man through. He closed the door.

Malcolm picked up the phone and punched in some numbers.

"Security, get me Mitchell."

"Keep an eye on my nephew Lorne, will you Mitch. I've just terminated him and he's making threats. Have one of your people follow him for a few days. I think he'll be all right but I want to make sure. Great, you'll take care of it yourself. I appreciate that."

Malcolm put down the phone, then thought better of it.

He punched in another extension.

"Law Department, this is Malcolm Brooks, put me through to Jason."

"Jason, you've seen the morning papers. Yes, very unwise of me. I'll enter a guilty plea and take whatever the court decides. I deserve it."

"You'll take care of the matter personally. My appreciation. Keep me up to date on the happenings."

Malcolm sighed deeply as he put down the phone. He buzzed his executive secretary, Jessica. She came right in immediately.

"Jessica, I'm going home. Reg will fill in until I'm back."

"Yes, Mr. Brooks."

Malcolm got up and moved out of the room using his crutches. He felt the impact of his age fully for the first time.

"I'd better see how Monica's making out. I know the animals make her nervous when she's at my estate."

He drove directly home trying to shut thoughts of Lorne's mother out of his mind. As he drove through the gate of his estate he wondered at the number of automobiles in his driveway. Fire trucks, an ambulance and several police cars were parked and people seemed to be searching through his gardens and woods.

Malcolm few through his front door and found his housekeeper trying to calm a hysterical Monica in his living room. She was sobbing uncontrollably. Malcolm braced himself with his crutches as Monica stood up, ran over to him and threw herself against him.

"What happened?" Malcolm questioned his housekeeper.

"I'm so glad you're here, Mr. Brooks. It's Raptor, your boa constrictor. Trump lunged at his cage and broke the glass door somehow. Raptor got out and he and Trump got into a wrestling match. It scared Miss Mason when she came across them slithering around the living room and when she tried to run out the front door the big snake and the dog followed her."

Malcolm groaned.

"I told you Raptor was defanged, Monica. He's harmless."

Malcolm dislodged Monica back into an armchair, went into the kitchen and made some Camomile tea. He went into his bar and poured a double whiskey for himself.

"Drink this!" he ordered Monica. "It will calm you."

"The snake tried to wind around me, Malcolm," Monica sobbed. She gulped the tea down. "And I want you to get rid of that awful dog."

"For Heaven's sake, Monica. You're a grownup. Raptor isn't that powerful. All you have to do is grab him by the tail or the head and pull him off. Now you've got half the neighbourhood up in arms. And getting rid of Trump is not on the asking block."

Malcolm's lack of sympathy seemed to enrage the young woman. She aimed the now empty tea cup and threw it at him at close range. The cup hit Malcolm on the head and shattered into several pieces. Malcolm's crutches gave way and he crashed to the floor. Malcolm's housekeeper rushed to his aid and his pet Howler monkeys in a large cage in the glassed in porch near the living room started to whoop.

The housekeeper got Malcolm into a chair and started to blot the blood running from a cut on his forehead.

"Our engagement is off," Monica shouted at him just as the front door opened and Malcolm's butler staggered in with Raptor coiled around him. Monica screamed. The butler seemed unfazed and moved over to Raptor's glass cage and peeled the big snake off himself. It moved with a fluid motion back onto its favourite wooden perch. The butler placed a sheet of plywood across the door of the cage.

"That should hold him."

Monica pulled the large, diamond ring off her left hand and fired it at Malcolm. It struck him on the chest and bounced down onto the floor. Malcolm's housekeeper gathered up the large ring and handed it to Malcolm.

"Where did you find Raptor?" Malcolm questioned his butler.

"He was heading for Mrs. Gustafson's house, I think, sir. After her Siamese cat again, I bet. He was almost to the house when I spotted him."

"That's all you care about, that horrible snake?" Monica headed for the door.

"I'll drive you, Monica." Malcolm offered.

"Over my dead body. I'll see you in court! I'm sure that accident has permanently damaged my looks." Monica went out the front door, slammed it hard and the glass shattered.

"Want me to intercept the young lady?" Malcolm's butler offered.

"Just drive her home, will you Lorenzo" Malcolm handed his butler his car keys. His housekeeper went to deal with the glass all over the floor.

"By the way, where is Trump?"

"The firemen are chasing him, Mr. Brooks. Him, your black jaguar, Diego and your Cassowary Bird, Razor. But don't worry, they are all still inside the estate grounds."

"How did Diego and Razor get out?"

"Rushed past their attendant, Mr. Brooks, when he opened their gate and was distracted by all the firemen crashing through the grounds. But don't worry the firemen are tracking them by their radio collars."

Malcolm groaned, pulled out his cell phone and dabbed the blood on his forehead with his handkerchief.

"Law Department," he requested the receptionist at his office.

"Jason, another problem, I'm afraid."

"Yes, the planets must have gone retrograde or something, as my new age friend Honey Pratt would say. My pregnant, former fiancee is suing me. Claims her looks have been damaged by that accident. Just negotiate a settlement with

her lawyer, will you? And make sure someone makes an offer today. She's rather distraught and might do something drastic. I want custody of the baby when it's born included in the agreement. I don't think Monica will resist if you offer her the right price. Keep increasing the offer if she refuses."

Malcolm hung up the phone after his lawyer assured him he would immediately take care of the matter personally.

"You need a doctor, Mr. Brooks," his housekeeper assured him, looking at the ugly cut on his forehead that was still spewing blood.

"I need more than that, I'm afraid, a psychiatrist maybe."