Vegas Sunrise (14 page)

“Anything yet, Fanny?” Marcus bellowed from the roof.

“It's still the same. Try jiggling it.”

“Any better?”

“No. Turn it the other way or let me call a repairman.”

“A piece broke off. Okay, I'm coming down. Call a repairman.”

Fanny turned off the television and closed the front door. She walked back to the kitchen to call for a repair. Her call completed, she sat down to finish her now cold coffee, her mind whirling in every direction. She snapped out of her reverie when she saw the television antenna fall outside the kitchen window. Had Marcus thrown it off the roof? She raced to the door calling her husband's name. She looked around, her eyes wild, for some sign of him.

“Fanny . . .” The voice was faint, muffled.

Fanny ran to the front of the house. Her heart in her throat, her eyes searched the roof, then the ground. “My God, Marcus, don't move. Don't even twitch. I'll call an ambulance.” She was back in minutes, dropping to the ground. She wanted desperately to cradle her husband's head in her arms, but she knew better. It was all a bad dream. This whole day was a bad dream. It was one of those horrible nightmares one had from time to time.
Oh God, Oh God
. “I'm here, Marcus. The ambulance is on the way.” Fanny's voice was hysterical when she said, “Don't try to talk and don't move. Please, Marcus. I hear the siren. If they allow it, I'll go with you in the ambulance.”

“Move out of the way, ma'am.”

“Yes, yes, out of the way. He fell from the roof. He hasn't moved. I told him to lie still. Can you help him? Please, you have to tell me, is he going to be all right?”

“I don't know. We'll do everything we can.”

“Take him to the Thornton Medical Center. I'm Fanny Thornton. Do you want me to call ahead for you?”

Fanny raced into the house. She was incoherent when she started to babble into the phone. “Get every doctor in the hospital to stand by. They'll be bringing him in soon. Be ready. Yes, yes, I'll be with them. Yes, yes, I'll tell them.”

Fanny's voice was filled with fear when she said, “Is it safe to move him? They're waiting at the center for you to call. Is he unconscious? That isn't good, is it? Did he talk? What can you tell me? I need to know. Can I ride with him in the ambulance?”

“We'd prefer that you follow us. Are you capable of driving? Perhaps you should call someone to fetch you. Okay, on three, lift.”

Fanny ran into the house for her car keys and purse. The ambulance, siren blasting, was a half mile down the road as she backed out of the driveway, her tires squealing on the asphalt. She floored the gas pedal.
Please, God, don't let him die. Please, God. Don't take him away from me. I need him. Please, God, hear my prayers
.

 

Fanny sat alone in the waiting room. She was numb with shock as she drank cup after cup of bad coffee. She wished she could cry and wanted to cry. She needed to cry, but her eyes were dry, tired, and full of grit. She wished for John Noble's comforting presence, but he'd retired from the medical profession. Su Li was in China. She had no idea who the new doctors were who manned Sallie Thornton's medical center. The best of the best according to a newspaper article she'd read. She should have kept up with the workings of the center instead of letting trustees oversee everything. Something else she'd fouled up. Par for the course.

A nurse wearing crepe-soled shoes walked up to her. “Mrs. Thornton, I'm sorry, Mrs. Reed, can I get you anything? Do you want me to call anyone for you?”

“No. I'm fine. It's been so long. Somebody must know something by now. Can't you find out anything? Don't they give updates? John Noble always did when he was in charge of this center. When did things change around here? I'm going to have to look into this. I want to know what's going on, and I want to know now. It's been seven hours. Seven hours is an eternity when you're sitting out here.”

“I'll see what I can find out, Mrs. Thorn . . . Mrs. Reed.”

Fanny started to pace, her eyes on the carpet. Such a strange color for a hospital. Hours ago she'd worn a path down and around the small sitting area. She reversed her steps, hoping to erase her footprints. She was completing her ninth lap when she felt a presence behind her. She turned. She blanched at the pale green garb, at the sight of the surgical mask hanging askew around the doctor's neck.

“Mrs. Reed?”

“Yes.”

“I'm Dr. Oliver. I operated on your husband. He's in recovery right now. A round-the-clock nurse is with him. There is good news and bad news. The good news is your husband survived the surgery. He no longer has a spleen. We had to remove his left kidney. His right leg is broken in three places. He's got three broken ribs and two that are fractured. He's suffered a severe concussion. It's too early to make a prognosis. You can see him for a moment or so through the glass. He's still out of it. He's in good health, so we're hopeful. The next seventy-two hours will tell us more. My advice would be to go home and come back in the morning. Everything that can be done has been done. Now we wait. I know that doesn't sound encouraging, but it's all I can offer right now. Are you alone, Mrs. Reed?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Are you capable of driving home?”

“Yes. I'd like to see my husband.”

“Come with me.”

Fanny stared through the glass at the still form lying in the stark white bed. The array of tubes and monitors made her light-headed. She leaned her forehead against the cool glass as her body started to shake. He'd been so upset with her over the children, and now this. She never should have allowed him to go up on the roof. She should have insisted he call a repairman. It was all her fault. Everything was her fault. Like Sallie, she couldn't do anything right. No matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried, everything came back to slap her in the face. Sallie all over again.

Fanny wept for the past, what she was now facing, and the unknown future. Dr. Oliver gently led her back to the waiting room. “I can have one of the orderlies drive you home, Mrs. Reed. You look very tired.”

“I'm fine, Dr. Oliver. I'll be back in the morning. Thank you. Thank everyone for me.”

“It's our job, Mrs. Reed. Try to get some rest. We'll talk again tomorrow.”

Fanny left the hospital, her shoulders slumped, her feet dragging. She sat in the parking lot smoking for a long time before she started the car's engine.

She felt like a thief in the night when she climbed from the car in her own driveway. She stared at the antenna on the ground, at the towel and blanket in the driveway. How had they gotten there? The sensor lights sprang to life as Fanny crossed the driveway. How quiet and still it was. The dogs must sense something wrong, she thought. She knew the animals were fine. Earlier in the day she'd put down dry dog food and fresh water. The doggie door Marcus had installed allowed the dogs to go in and out at will. Thanks again to the privacy fence Marcus had put up a week after they moved into the house. There was nothing for her to do inside except cuddle with the dogs.

Fanny sat down on the railroad ties that bordered the driveway and dropped her head into her hands. What would she do if Marcus died? Unable to come up with an answer, she ran across the yard to the fallen antenna. She kicked it, slammed it, yanked at it and finally, using all the strength she could muster, heaved it sideways into the fence. It splintered into sections, hanging drunkenly on protruding nails along the fence line.

She walked back to the railroad ties and sat down. A harvest moon glared down at her. She'd always loved harvest moons. Tonight it seemed ominous, a malevolent evil eye.

She was truly alone. Decency said she should notify her children of Marcus's accident. Because her children were decent human beings, they would say the right things even though they had no real interest in Marcus. They might even stop by the hospital or send flowers. They'd schedule their visits when she wasn't there and go on with their lives that no longer included her. Because of her stubbornness. Ash always said one of the things he liked most about her was her ability to stand tall and not back down.

Fanny started to blubber. “I miss you, Ash. Those last months with you were some of the happiest months of my life. You finally came to understand me, and I truly got to know who you were. I love Marcus, but not the way I loved you. I wish you were here so I could talk to you. I need to know about Jeff. I need to talk about the kids. That's funny. They aren't kids anymore. It's so hard down here, Ash. I don't know what to do. All night long I kept asking myself what you'd do.”

Fanny pounded the railroad ties with her clenched fists. Pain ricocheted up her arms. Grimacing with pain, she finally got up and made her way to the kitchen door. The dogs circled her feet, each vying for her attention. She played with them for a few minutes and dispensed dog biscuits before she went upstairs to shower.

Dressed in her ratty old robe, Fanny settled herself in the kitchen, the scotch bottle and a glass in front of her, the dogs at her feet. She drank steadily until she knew she would be able to sleep. She staggered to the living room, the dogs trailing her. The animals sat at attention until they were certain their mistress was asleep. Their heads on their paws, their eyes and ears alert, they remained sentinels all night long.

Birch Thornton grappled with the phone stapled to a telephone pole at the construction site. Receiver in one hand, five rolls of blueprints in the other, he barked a greeting, “Thornton here.”

“Birch, it's Sage. Listen up. Marcus Reed fell off the roof and is in critical condition. It was in yesterday's paper, but I didn't see it until last night. Mom didn't call Billie or me. I assume she didn't call you or Sunny either. It happened five days ago. I thought I'd stop by the hospital today and send some flowers. Billie isn't interested in going. Iris is waffling. I don't really want to go, but I feel like I should since my last words to Marcus were less than kind. Mom will probably boot my ass out on the street. However, it's the right thing to do. My ass has been skinned before. I don't know if you want to call Mom or not. Sunny . . . Sunny might want to. Like you, she went up against Mom once before. Your choice.”

“I talked to Celia last night, and she didn't say anything. When was it in the paper? I can hardly hear you. Bad connection or else it's all the noise.”

“Yesterday. Right on the front page. Maybe Celia didn't get the paper. How's she doing?”

“She subs one day a week and waitresses two days during lunchtime at the Golden Nugget. She says she likes it. I thought you were going to take her to dinner or lunch.”

“Birch, I've called her six or seven times and left a message. She doesn't return my calls. I hope you aren't expecting me to stick my nose into your wife's business. Things are getting wild around here. Lassiter won't give me the time of day. I need you and Sunny to send Clementine Fox your power of attorney. I met with her the other day, and she's getting a handle on everything. She said the buzz on the street is he's going to step into Dad's shoes big time. And, get this, he's trying to develop something the street is calling the Holy Grail. The asshole probably started the rumor himself, just the way Dad used to do when he wanted word to get out about something he did. Clem is looking into that, too. I think Sunny had the right idea when she said the four of us should pool our money and buy out Lassiter's contract. Neal can run the place. What do you think?”

“Sage, whatever you think is right is okay with me. Sunny's right here, and she's nodding agreement. What about Billie?”

“She's in.”

“That makes it unanimous. Send the flowers from all of us. I wouldn't go to the hospital though. If Mom wanted you, she would have called. You said it was going to be a war. I take that to mean the lines are drawn. We're stepping outside the family now if it works and Neal is in. I'm okay with it, though.”

“Dad would have done it,” Sage replied.

“Yeah, this is exactly what he would have done. Do it!”

“Okay. Lassiter doesn't have to take the offer, you know.”

“Then make his fucking life miserable. You have the power now to shut down the casino in the time it takes him to blink. Once his foothold is secure, he's in the catbird seat. Shut it down, and he's out of a job. Play hardball like Dad did. Eyeball to eyeball and make him blink first. Our old man was a whiz at that. Can you handle it?”

Sage gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I can handle it.”

“How's Iris?”

“Moody. Withdrawn. It seems like she just goes through the motions. She goes to bed at eight o'clock and stays in bed in the morning. She goes to see Ruby pretty often. They like each other.”

“That's good, isn't it?”

“Hell, do I know?”

“Listen, Uncle Daniel is calling me. I'll put Sunny on. Do what you have to do, Sage. Sunny and I are behind you.”

“How's it going, Sage?” Sunny asked.

“It's going. Listen, Sunny, Celia isn't subbing. I called every damn school in the district. She registered, but that's all. The woman I spoke to said they called her twice and left a message, but she didn't get back to them. She isn't waitressing at the Golden Nugget either the way Birch said she was. I checked that one out yesterday, and no one's even heard of her. When I said her name was Celia Thornton they laughed in my face. In my opinion the apartment she took is just for Birch's benefit. I know she's holed up in Room 719. I thought I'd stay in town tonight and hang around. Lurk or skulk are probably better words. Try to get those power of attorney forms to me by tonight or early tomorrow morning. Send someone to the airport and put them on the next flight. Clem wants to pay a visit to Jeff tomorrow. I'm going to talk to him myself this afternoon. Meanwhile I have some dummies I can doctor up to throw in his face if need be.”

“Don't say anything about Celia,” Sunny warned. “Call me tonight. I don't care what time it is. You know me, I always sleep with one eye open. Try not to get caught. Are you okay with the Mom thing?”

“No, Sunny, I'm not okay with it. I hate it. I don't think this family is ever going to know peace.”

“Maybe someday. Have you spoken to Neal in the past few days?”

“We're meeting for coffee in a little while.”

“Say hi for me.”

“Will do. Take care, Sunny.”

 

Sage looked up from his desk. “Where to, little sister?”

“Meeting on the other side of town with my button supplier. Want to come along? No, huh? I had flowers sent to the hospital and put all our names on the card. I also called the hospital and Marcus is holding his own. When are you going to talk to Jeff?”

“After my meeting with Neal. Where's your power of attorney?”

“Under your elbow. See you later.”

Sage spent another hour clearing off his desk. He returned phone calls, separated his mail into two piles, “must deal with” and “delays.” As he shifted papers, he called Iris. “Listen, honey, I'm going to stay in town tonight. I'll probably take a room at Babylon or if they're full up I'll crash at Billie's. I'll see you tomorrow evening. You okay, honey?”

“I'm fine, Sage.”

“You sound funny. Not funny ha-ha, funny as in something's wrong.”

“What could possibly be wrong?”

“That's my question. Since you don't have an answer, I'm going to head out of here. I'm meeting Neal for coffee, then I'm going to surprise Jeff Lassiter. At some point I have to meet up with Celia since I promised Birch. Billie sent flowers to the hospital. She said Marcus is holding his own. Have a good day, honey.”

Sage slipped into his jacket and was out of the office in seconds. He did double time going down the street and around the corner to Babylon, entering by the front door. He weaved his way through the narrow aisles filled with a visiting contingent from Boise, Idaho, coming to a stop at the Country Kitchen, where Neal was waiting for him. They shook hands and headed for a table in the back where it was quiet.

“What is going down around here, Neal?”

“The pink slips are going out next week. Supposedly they have already hired new people to replace all twelve of us. We can't confirm it, though. Some kind of secret meetings are going on in the executive dining room all day and all night. Lassiter refers to his office now as the War Room. The ax is getting ready to fall, buddy.”

Sage smiled grimly. “Not likely, Neal. I'll have my brother's and sisters' powers of attorney by tomorrow morning. We override Mom when it comes to a vote. None of you are out. If Lassiter paid out any sign-on money, he's going to have to eat it. If possible, we're going to try to buy out his contract and put you in charge. If he doesn't go for the buyout, you're still in charge. He'll just be a figurehead going through the motions to save face. The job should have been yours to begin with. Mom made a mistake. We engaged the services of the Silver Fox.”

Neal whistled.

“I'm going to talk with Jeff after we have our coffee. What else is going on?”

“Sage, I hate telling you this crap, but that sister-in-law of yours is on the payroll right here in the casino. Bitsy Drake in Payroll called me at home early this morning to tell me. In this business you have to have spies everywhere, you know that.” His tone was defensive-sounding. Sage shrugged.

“Celia? What does she do?”

“No job description. Her salary is $800 a week. That's gross, not net. Hortense, the maid on seven, said she's using Room 719. She asked the head of Housekeeping if she had a key to clean the room. Delphine went to Lassiter, who assured her Hortense was seeing things and no one is in 719. Hortense is now on the unemployment line and Delphine already got her pink slip. Friday's her last day. Sage, those women have been here since Babylon opened. Your father loved both of them. Hell, Delphine knitted him a sweater one Christmas. He left each of them $5000 in his will; you know that, so it should tell you something.”

“We'll just see about that. Tell them both their jobs are secure for as long as they want them. Make sure you get Hortense back here today, even if you have to go to her house to get her. She stays on seven, too. She could probably tell us both stories about that room that would curl our hair. She never, ever breathed a word to anyone. She was definitely loyal to Dad. I guess my next question as much as I don't want to ask it is, does Lassiter hang out in that room, too?”

“The indications are that he does. What the hell is going on, Sage?”

“I don't know. That's the truth. My skin is starting to crawl, though. How about doing a little detective work for me this morning. Check all the stores in the casino and see if Celia has been charging stuff to the family account. If you can, get a copy of the receipts.”

“Sure, no problem. Listen, Sage, there is one other thing. I've been agonizing over this for months now. I've wanted to call you or your mother, but I didn't. It isn't my business, and yet it is my business. Someone came to me the other day. It isn't important who that person is. What is important is the story he told me, complete with pictures. Here, take a look,” Neal said withdrawing an envelope from his breast pocket.

“Why do I have the feeling I'm not going to like what I see? Your bald head is glistening with perspiration. That's making me even more nervous.”

Sage rifled through the pictures. “She looks like Billie.”

“It is Billie, Sage. She's wearing different-colored wigs.”

“Where the hell did you get these?”

“I told you, a friend. She's gambling. Big time. On the other side of the street.”

“Billie! I don't believe that.”

“Then why do you look like you believe it? Every day and half the night. We're talking some very big bucks, Sage. She's hooked. That was your old man's biggest fear.”

“What was?”

“That one of you kids would get hooked. He made me swear on his life, and I'm not joking, that if I ever got wind of one of you hitting the tables, I would let him know. I'm letting you know, and I'm off the hook.”

“I feel sick,” Sage said.

“How do you think I felt? The only thing that could make me feel worse would be if it were Sunny. If it were Sunny, I would have dragged her out and demanded an explanation. Your sister Billie and I never had the rapport Sunny and I had. It's always the one you least expect who throws you the curve. If I can do anything, let me know. Good luck with Lassiter.”

Sage shoved his coffee cup to the middle of the table. Neal hadn't touched his coffee at all. Billie gambling? Sweet, gentle, workaholic Billie. How had this happened? Why hadn't he seen the signs? He was with her every day, how could he not know something like this was going on? He wondered
exactly
what big bucks meant where Billie was concerned. It certainly explained the four- and five-hour lunches and the dark circles under his sister's eyes in the morning. It probably explained the locked drawer in her desk, too. “Son of a bitch!” he muttered.

Sage stopped at the first phone he came to. He placed five calls, issuing orders in a soft voice before he stomped his way out to the casino floor and then down the corridor that led to Jeff Lassiter's office.

“Sorry, sir, no one goes beyond this point except Mr. Lassiter.”

“Get out of my way, you pipsqueak,” Sage said as he shouldered the nattily dressed guard aside.

Sage didn't bother knocking. He opened the door, closing it behind him. “It's time to talk, Jeff.”

Jeff swiveled his chair around until he was facing Sage. “How did you get in here?”

Sage looked down at his feet. “I walked.” He waved the copies of his siblings' powers of attorney under Jeff's nose. “What this means to you is this, you can't fire anyone unless we all agree. We don't agree. If you hired anyone without our approval to replace any old employees and paid sign-on bonuses, you eat those. Neal and the others stay. So does Delphine. Hortense is on her way as we speak. Don't ever do anything like this again. My sisters, my brother, and I are prepared to buy out your contract. Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars, cash on the line.”

Lassiter laughed, a fiendish sound to Sage's ears. “The contract is airtight. Five million, and I might
think
about it.” It was Sage's turn to laugh.

“I rather thought that would be your answer. Know this, though, you're going to have a thousand pairs of eyes on you. Every person in this casino is loyal to our family. I want you to remember that. The books are open to every member of this family. A team of forensic accountants will be here starting tomorrow. I don't know what your game is, but whatever it is, it's not going to be at the expense of my sisters and brother. It's obvious to me you have a gripe where the Thornton family is concerned. That gripe might even be justified. I can't undo something my father did, nor can my sisters or brother. My mother made a mistake when she hired you. Legally, we can undo that mistake. However, a deal is a deal. If you plan to earn your livelihood in the gaming business, it is not our intention to thwart those endeavors. My father provided for you and your mother very handsomely. I'm sorry if it wasn't to your liking. As I said, we can't undo his arrangements. All we can do is try to honor, to the best of our ability, the plans he set in motion. So, you collect your pay, you keep your sign-on bonus, and the rest of the casino will be run by Neal. It's a take it or leave it offer.”