Vegas Sunrise (33 page)

In spite of herself, she leaned over and kissed him until his eyes opened. “Now,” she whispered, “I want to make love to you.”

“I'm waiting,” he whispered.

When the room grew light and the fire was almost out, they looked at one another, their faces alight with love. “I'll wash your back if you wash mine,” Birch grinned.

“Just my back?” Libby teased.

Birch pretended horror. “That's where I'm going to start. Where I finish, will be anyone's guess. One bar of soap or two?”

“I want my own. I'm going to lather you from top to bottom and save the middle for last. Is that okay with you?”

“Absolutely.”

A long time later, Libby said, “It's quarter to eight. Should we head for the dining room or should we knock on Sunny's door?”

“I say we let them sleep. We can't go out. There isn't much to do in the lodge except eat, look at the fire, or watch an old movie.”

“I rather thought they'd be up by now. Harry was so excited about the snow, I kind of thought he'd be up staring out at the white stuff. One knock. If they don't respond, we'll go downstairs. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Precisely at eight o'clock, Birch and Libby closed the door of Birch's room. They walked the short distance down the hall to Sunny and Harry's room.

“The door's open, Birch. They must have gotten up early and are in the dining room waiting for us. The bed's made and the fire is out. They both need to be warm. I wonder if they slept in their clothes. They even made the bed. They do that, you know. Harry does one side, and Sunny does the other. Usually, though, it's not this neat. It looks to me like the fire's been out for a long time. There aren't any red embers.”

“Here's a note,” Birch said as he snapped on the light.

“What's it say?” Libby asked, craning her neck to read the note over Birch's shoulder.

“Jesus Christ! They went snowmobiling at two o'clock this morning. They never went to bed, and they weren't here to keep the fire up. Six hours!”

“Don't panic. They might be in the dining room or the great room, where it's warm.”

“You don't believe that any more than I do,” Birch shouted as he raced down the hall. He was aware immediately of the silence, the emptiness, of the smell of perking coffee and cinnamon.

Sunny and Harry were nowhere in sight.

The storm outside was still raging when Birch ran to the heavy front doors. He pulled them open, gale-force winds driving him backward. He was covered in snow in a matter of seconds.

“They must be here somewhere. They wouldn't go out in this storm,” Libby said, her face ashen. “Sunny would never do something so foolhardy. Harry wouldn't either.”

“Trust me. They're out there. They probably figured the barn where the snowmobiles are kept is just around the corner, and they could make it there in their chairs. Their wheelchairs are gone. They're out there, Libby. Get dressed. We have to look for them. Better yet, you bring my stuff while I talk to that night manager and have her call the rangers.”

The manager's face drained of all color when Birch told her what he suspected. “You have to raise the rangers. We're going out, but I'd like to know someone is looking out for us. You know, backup.”

“Mr. Thornton, I don't think your sister would be foolish enough to go out in this storm in a
wheelchair.
I don't think you should attempt anything until I speak with the ranger station.”

“If you were the one out there in a wheelchair, would you want me to wait for a ranger?”

“Well, no, but . . .”

“There are no buts. They left at two o'clock. It's eight now. That's six hours. Anything could have happened to them in six hours.”

The manager's face got whiter at the thought of the liability involved. She tried the ranger station again, with no results. The look on her face went from helpless to hopeless.

“How long does a tank of gas last in a snowmobile?”

“About an hour and a half if it's full. Speed has something to do with it. Clarence didn't fill the tanks yesterday because he wanted to catch the shuttle down the mountain. He has a family, and he wanted to be with them. I told him it was all right to leave. Some of the tanks were nearly empty. Clarence gave me the work sheets before he left. Only six of the machines had a full tank.”

“Is there any place they could take shelter if they ran out of gas?”

“There are what we call two line shacks, where we keep emergency supplies for the ski patrol. I can show you on the map. It's unlikely they made it that far. There wasn't enough gas in their tanks. There is a possibility your sister and her friend are still in the barn. If they had the presence of mind to check the gas tank. Clarence always puts a yellow magnet on the tank when he fills it up. I have no way of knowing if your sister realized the meaning of the magnet. Their wheelchairs were kept in the barn when they took out the machines yesterday. Clarence might have explained the way it works, but I can't be sure. Start there, Mr. Thornton. I'll keep trying the rangers. Stay close to the building, and you'll be able to see the barn. I'm sure that's the way they went. The walkway was cleared by the snowblower around dinnertime last night. Good luck.”

Libby was muttering to herself as she pulled on her fur-lined boots.

“This is not our fault. Making love has nothing to do with this, Libby, so don't start blaming yourself. Even if you had stayed in your room and I stayed in mine, we would just now be meeting up down here. Neither one of us would have checked on Sunny during the night. Don't go packing any bags for a guilt trip. Okay, are you ready?”

“I'm ready. What do you feel, Birch? Tell me the truth?”

“I don't feel anything,” Birch said grimly. “Stay right behind me.”

“Don't you worry about that,” Libby said. She adjusted her snow goggles.

The wind howled and shrieked as the snow battered them. For every three steps they took forward, the wind drove them back two steps.

Heads bent, they trudged forward. What would normally have been a five-minute walk to the barn took them forty minutes just to the place where Birch fell over Harry's wheelchair. Libby fell against him, sliding forward to land against Sunny's chair. She started to paw through the snow, shrieking and crying that Sunny and Harry were buried in the snow.

“No, they're not here. Look, Libby, neither Harry nor Sunny is stupid. The barn is right there. They would have seen it outlined in the snow. We need to think like them right now. Going back to the lodge would have taken them too long. I think they opted for the barn and either crawled or belly-whopped. Maybe they used their rear ends to bounce along. They're not here. I know they're not,” Birch shouted to be heard above the wind.

Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the barn. “The door's open. I was right. They made it this far. Can you make it, Libby?”

“I can make it. My question is, how in the name of God did they do it? We have legs and feet and right now I can't feel mine at all.”

“I don't know.”

“Sunny! Harry! Are you in here?” Birch and Libby shouted over and over, their voices echoing in the cavernous barn.

“Look. They managed to light one of the lamps. That took some doing on their part. It shows they were thinking and had their wits about them. Shine your light around, Libby, so I can find the oil to replenish the lantern. Ah, here it is.”

“Two of the snowmobiles are gone from the track!” Libby cried, her voice full of anguish.

Birch could feel his heart thundering in his chest. He had to do something. “I say we gas up these machines and begin our search. There's a lot of emergency gear in here. Let's hope they had enough sense to take some of it with them. My gut says they did because things are less than tidy on the shelves. The messiness tells me they were grappling for things that were higher up because everything else is incredibly neat and precision-aligned.”

“God, I hope you're right, Birch.”

“I know I'm right,” Birch said with more confidence than he felt. He put his arm around Libby's shoulder and pulled her to him. “One more time, Libby, this is not your fault, and it isn't my fault. I'm going to light the rest of the lamps. Hopefully, if they aren't too far away and the snow lets up from time to time, they might see a flicker of light. We don't have anything to lose by lighting them.”

“I agree. The snowmobiles don't need gas. The magnets are on the tanks. Harry and Sunny were the only ones using the machines. These six are gassed and ready to go.”

“Shit!” The single word exploded from Birch's mouth. “You'd think a place as modern and sophisticated as this would have a horseshoe track that would bring the used machine to the rear instead of back to the starting point.”

“We need to think like Sunny and Harry. I'll be Sunny and you take Harry's part. Which way would they go? Which one would take the lead? Sunny was talking about the Molly Stark Trail yesterday. She was reading one of the brochures. I remember her commenting on the landing strip and the fact that the trail was only a mile and a half from the lodge. She said if a skier got lost, they just had to find the trail and they could make it back here. She wasn't speaking to me directly but to Harry. She probably said more but I didn't hear it.”

“We'll strike out in the direction of the trail. This map they have on the wall is clearly marked. With only one lantern it's doubtful either Sunny or Harry saw it. I almost missed it myself. I'll take the lead. Stay close behind me.”

“Birch, they could have gone in a hundred different directions.”

“I know, Libby. We'll do our best. My gut tells me they didn't get too far with the small amount of gas they had in the machines.”

“Several miles at least, Birch. If their machines died on them, it's anybody's guess what they did.”

“No negative thoughts, Libby. Are you ready?”

Libby adjusted her goggles. She nodded.

Not bothering to look for the mechanism that operated the tract, Birch pushed his machine off the track out into the snow. He started the engine before he went back to the barn to push Libby's machine outside. The last thing he did was to close and latch the monster double doors.

His heart thumped and thudded in his chest the way it had when he was little and watching a horror movie on television. Back then he had Sage to cling to. He wondered at that moment what his brother was doing. Probably riding down the mountain in the late-fall sunshine. Iris would have cooked what she called a he-man breakfast for him. She would have kissed him good-bye at the door and waved until his car was out of sight. Sage would be clean-shaven, dressed in his white shirt, tie, and business suit, listening to a Bob Marley tape on the ride down the mountain. Sage always was a lucky son of a bitch. He wished his brother was riding the snowmobile behind him instead of Libby. Right now Libby was too emotional. What he needed now was Sage's cool, level head.

Some things were just not meant to be.

Fanny sat in her parked car in the underground casino parking lot, smoking. Time this morning seemed ominous somehow. She felt disoriented, unsure of what she should do next. Being with Billie and listening to her problems had drained her, leaving her feeling listless and somehow angry. She wished for coffee, for a comforting friend, someone to tell her it was okay to break and enter and steal her dead husband's aviator wings. She should be home listening for the phone to ring. What if something happened to Sage while she was doing Ash's nefarious bidding? If she were at the hospital, she could turn the television in the waiting room to the weather channel. “And what good will that do me if the phone rings in my house?” she muttered. She fired up another cigarette. One of these days she had to quit smoking and cut down on her coffee intake.

Fanny leaned her head back against the headrest of the driver's seat. Billie a gambler. How was she ever going to come to terms with that?

“I kept telling you you were losing your edge. Now, do you believe me?”

“I can't believe you're here again, Ash. Is your afterlife's work following me? Why can't you leave me in peace? I'm not in the mood for your snide comments today.”

“Get out of this garage. Do you have any idea how many weird people hang out in places like this? Why do I have to do all your thinking, Fanny? Let's get with the program here.”

“I'm here to get your wings back, Ash. I'm going to break and enter and steal them just the way you want. I should be at the hospital. I should be with Billie. Instead I'm sitting here in a parked car trying to figure out a way to break into my own apartment and all because I'm listening to a dead man give me orders. Go away, Ash.”

“I'm tired, Fanny. Those kids of ours have given me a run for my money. How the hell did you do it all those years when I wasn't there to help you?”

“It was hard, Ash. Some days I didn't think I'd make it. It all worked out but it did take its toll. I don't regret one minute of my life. That's not quite true. Some days I do. Do you know about Billie?”

“Of course I know about Billie. She learned a hard lesson, Fanny. I preached till I was blue in the face. Where was she while I was doing that?”

“Probably hiding while she tried to figure out why you could never remember her name. How could you forget your own daughter's name? That was unforgivable.”

“Yes, it was. I can't change the past.”

“You were a shit, Ash,” Fanny said vehemently.

“Yes, I was.”

“I like it better when you argue with me. It's easier to hate your guts that way.”

“Where you're concerned, Fanny, hate is just a word. It isn't in you to hate anyone. That's a commendable trait. Billie's going to be fine. Trust me on that one.”

“That one? Does that mean the others are in trouble? Earlier you said you had to help the kids. Ash, don't do this to me. Are they okay? Should I go home to listen for the phone? I don't think I could bear it if something happened to them. Are you watching over them? Ah, what can you do, you're dead!”

“I didn't say I could do anything. I said they needed me. Like you need me. When the day comes, and it will come, Fanny, when you no longer need me, I'll be gone forever.”

“I don't want that, Ash. I feel closer to you now than I did when you were alive. I wonder if I'm losing my mind. Maybe I'm having a nervous breakdown. All I want to do is cry. That's a sign of depression. Maybe I already lost my mind and I'm too stupid to know it. You used to call me stupid a lot, Ash.”

“That's because I was jealous of you. The kids are in trouble. If they remember the things I tried to teach them, they'll be okay. They have more of you than me in them. Right now I don't know if that's good or bad. They aren't kids anymore.”

“If they need you why are you here? I can do what I have to do by myself. I don't need you here pep-talking me.”

“All you have to do is cut me loose, Fanny.”

“I can't do that. Why can't I do that, Ash?”

“We'll talk about that later. Get those wings back, Fanny.”

Fanny's voice was honey-sweet when she said, “Ash?”

“Yeah.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“Ah, if I could, I would. Move!”

“I hate your guts!”

“You keep saying that. Is it okay to leave?”

“Go and don't come back,” Fanny shouted.

“Okay.”

“Will you look after the kids, Ash?”

“Fanny, Fanny, Fanny. What do you think?”

“I love you, Ash.”

“I know. I love you, too, Fanny.”

“Do you really, Ash? Truly?”

Fanny looked around as she waited for Ash's response. She sighed deeply. “Life goes on, Ash. A person can't live on memories. Thanks for . . . whatever.” She waited a moment to see if there would be a response. There wasn't. She sighed again as she climbed out of the car.

Fanny glanced at her watch as she weaved her way across the casino floor to Neal Tortolow's office. She knocked softly and entered when the door opened.

“Fanny! What brings you here so early in the day? Is something wrong?”

“There is always something wrong, Neal. First things first. I want to apologize to you. Things were mixed up in my mind. Ash always preached to me that business stays in the family. Blood ties, that kind of thing. I thought . . . hiring Jeff was the right thing to do. I couldn't have been more wrong. I'm grateful to my children that they made it right. You might not be part of my blood family, but you are part of my extended family. I don't know how I could have forgotten that. I just want you to know I'm sorry.”

“Apology accepted. How about a nice cup of coffee. It's just the way you like it.”

“I'd like that very much. I need your help, Neal.”

“Name it and you got it.”

Fanny explained about Ash's wings. She waited for Neal's reaction.

“Let me be sure I understand this. You want me to call Jeff down here and tell him you want to meet with him in the conference room. You are then going to go to the penthouse and steal his key ring.”

“At first I was just going to take the wings, but then that would point the finger to me. The whole key ring will be better. I'll leave the keys somewhere and they can be put in Lost and Found. The wings belong to Jake. I didn't know that. Ash had something engraved on the back of the wings for Jake. I have to get them back.”

“Okay.”

“You'll make the call?”

“Of course. Ash used to talk about those wings all the time. He treasured them more than anything. I knew they were meant for Jake. Lassiter made such a point of showing me and everyone else those wings every chance he got. It used to make me sick the way he'd fondle them. I never understood why you gave them to him.”

“I made a lot of mistakes, Neal. It was a bad time for me. When Ash died, I thought I was clearing up loose ends. My own children had so much. Birch and Sage didn't want the wings, so I thought Jeff would want them. You know, a tangible thing from his father. It seemed like the thing to do at the time. If I thought Jeff would willingly part with those wings, I'd go to him up front. I know he won't. I know it as surely as I know I have to keep breathing if I want to continue to live.”

“Okay, let's do it. He'll take the elevator to the main floor. I'll meet him and tell him you're in the ladies' room. Don't take too long. He and I aren't exactly friends these days, and he might get suspicious.”

“Just keep him down here.”

“What is your reason for asking him to meet you?”

“Reason? Oh, I'll think of something. I'll take the elevator to the second floor and the penthouse elevator from there. I still have my card key.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Fanny waited five minutes on the second floor. The minute she saw the private elevator stop on the ground floor she pushed the button to bring it to the second floor. She didn't realize she was holding her breath until her lungs protested. She exhaled, the sound exploding in the elevator.

Her knees were like wet noodles when she exited the elevator. Jeff's door opened to her touch. That had to mean he had left his keys behind. She blinked at the mess in the living room. Beer bottles were everywhere. She wondered if Jeff had had a party the night before or if he was the one who consumed all the beer. Where would a person like Jeff put his keys? She herself had always tossed them on the foyer table. She ran to the small hallway. The table was bare.

Ash, Sage, and Birch always emptied their pockets at night and threw the contents on the dresser. She raced to the master bedroom. The dresser was as bare as the foyer table. Maybe they were in the living room, where the mess was. She pawed through the newspapers, the dry food cartons, and loose papers. There they were. Ash's aviator wings attached to a massive key ring. In her hurry to grab the keys she disturbed the contents of the table. Colored pictures slid across the table. She took a second to look and then gasp. Horrified at what she was seeing, she started to shake. Sage and her naked daughter-in-law! Polaroids meant there were no negatives.
Take them,
her mind screeched. She swallowed, her mouth dry, her tongue thick.

What was Jeff Lassiter doing with pictures like this? What was her son Sage doing with Birch's wife? God in heaven! Fanny jammed the pictures and the keys to the bottom of her bag and ran to the door. As she fumbled with the door handle she broke into a drenching sweat. She had to get out of here. Now. She ran to the elevator and jabbed at the down button on the wall. Once inside she almost collapsed. Sage with Celia. Impossible. Trick photography. In a million years she'd never believe what her eyes had seen. Never, ever.

Eyes wide, nostrils flaring, Fanny ran from the elevator on the second floor to the stairwell. In the dim concrete stairwell, she leaned against the coolness of the wall as she tried to bring her labored breathing under control. She needed to be calm and cool when she met with Jeff. What was he doing with those obscene pictures? How long would it take before he noticed they were missing? Blackmail? Would he call the police?

Fanny walked out of the stairwell onto the main floor. She walked as fast as she could to the conference room. She opened the door to see Jeff pacing around the table. “I'm sorry I made you wait, Jeffrey. It was my intention to ask you to have breakfast with me—I need to talk to you about several things—but I've just had a call. I have to go to the medical center right away. Perhaps later in the week if you aren't too busy.”

“Of course. Can I drive you?”

Drive. One needed car keys to drive. “Oh, no. Thank you anyway. I think best when I'm driving. I'll . . . what I'll do is . . . call you. Yes, yes, I'll call you later. Later in the week. Excuse me,” she called over her shoulder as she ran from the room.

On the way to the medical center Fanny ran a red light and then traveled a mile on the shoulder of the road, horns blaring from every direction. When she finally skidded to a stop in the parking lot, she collapsed against the car door, her elbow jarring the horn. The sharp blast left her cowering in the seat. She had to get out of here. The rest room at the medical center in the privacy of a stall would be a good place to open her purse. How long would it take Jeff Lassiter to discover the missing pictures? How long before he discovered his keys were missing? Would he tie her visit to the missing items? If everything Ash said about Jeffrey was true, then of course he would suspect her. Proving it would be something else entirely.

Fanny caught a glimpse of herself in the plate-glass window of the medical center. That haggard, bewildered person couldn't be her. Where the hell was Ash? He should be here, pep-talking her. She snorted her displeasure as she whipped around the corner to trot down the hall to the waiting room, which seemed like home these days. She needed to sit down with a cup of coffee and a cigarette. First, though, she had to go to the ladies' room.

Fanny raced to the handicapped stall at the end of the row. She bolted inside and slid the lock home. The sound was so comforting she wanted to cry. The small shelf on the wall was perfect for lining up the junk in her bag. The first thing she did was remove the gold wings from the key ring. Without stopping to think, Fanny slid the cold, shiny wings down her bra. She wadded up the key ring in loose toilet tissue and placed it in the trash basket. She withdrew the obscene pictures and stared at them, getting sicker by the moment. Should she tear them up and flush them down the toilet? Should she keep them as evidence? Evidence of what? Maybe she could hide them. Where? In the lounge. There were pictures on the wall. Behind one of the pictures until she could decide what to do with them.

“Make it quick, Fanny. He's on his way. He put two and two together. I'm only telling you what you already know.”

“This is the ladies' room, Ash. I know I didn't invite you here. Get out. I need to think. I got the wings. These pictures . . . He saw right through my little act. I know he did. He's probably going through my car right now. What should I do, Ash?”

“Stash those pictures. They aren't real, you know. I might have done something like that in the old days. Neither Birch nor Sage would do something like that. Sage would never allow that to happen. You need to believe that, Fanny.”

“I do believe it. You don't have to tell me anything about
my
son. Our son. Jeff's coming here. I know it. I just know it. He'll find a way to get my purse. Oh, God, this is . . . this is the worst thing I've ever experienced in my life.”