by Edwin Dasso
Joe ignored him, rubbed his wrist, picked up his drink and wandered towards a table. He sat down and considered his options for a few minutes. There weren’t many. He had no idea what he would do. He knew Lida wouldn’t fix Lenny’s books.
Lenny watched Joe wander off and take a seat in the corner of the bar. His dark, pig-like eyes followed him across the casino. He couldn’t stand his little brother. The kid was weak, a sissy, a mamma’s boy. He shook his head. Some things never changed. Lenny was jealous over Joey’s good looks. Women flocked to Joey and were all over him. On the other hand, he couldn’t get a date unless he paid for it or frightened one of the female staff into going out with him or drugging them.
Joe again felt the heat and stench of his brother’s body behind him. He reached for his drink. He cringed when Lenny tapped him on the shoulder. “You got it pretty boy? Understand, dude? It needs to happen. NOW."
Joey didn’t turn around. “I’ll set it up for next week. Just like I said. After the Thanksgiving holiday.” Joe picked up his drink and sighed with relief when his brother moved away. What the hell was he going to do?
11
Several hours later Joe Minelli pulled up to the lovely French country home, the parsonage for the Mobile Methodist Church, where Lida’s parents lived. Lida’s father pastored the wealthiest congregation in Mobile, and the parsonage reflected the wealth of the churchThe. The spacious home was fashioned from plaster mixed with pale sienna pigment, while the roof tiles, made by hand and shaped over the craftsman's thigh, just as they’d been made in 1700 French manor homes. tiles were left unglazed to allow moss to grow—another detail that added to the overall pastoral look. In addition, the home had a wide front porch and tall columns that invited alfresco dining. Joe knew it had been the place of many church socials and meals.
Joey saw Lida’s car in the driveway. He walked up the well-manicured, landscaped walk and lifted the large brass knocker on the door. The sound resounded through the house.
Lida opened the door and frowned. She was pale and stressed. Her blacked eye seemed worse in the sunlight and Joe could see broken blood vessels under her eye socket. "What do you want, Joe? I thought I was clear with you. I want nothing, and I mean nothing to do with you or your insane family. Now leave."
"Can I come in, Lida? We’ve got to talk,” Joe pleaded. He gave her his best smile, but it didn’t work.
Lida shook her head. "No. I'm not talking about that anymore. I've told you, my mind is made up. Tell your brother I quit. That's all I've got to say," she started to close the door.
Joe heard a voice say, "Honey, who is there?" Seconds later, Lida’s dad, Reverend Dr. John Dewey saw Joe on the front porch and said, "Joe, come in. Have some iced tea and ginger cake. The ladies of the church just brought some over." Dr. Dewey pushed by Lida and held the door open as wide as he could. “I can guarantee it’s delicious,” he said as he rubbed his belly. Dr. Dewey was a tall angular man who was in perfect physical shape. Joe knew he worked out regularly and had an exercise room in the back of the house.
Joe smiled at Lida's dad. He enjoyed talking with him. "Thank you, Reverend. I believe I'll do that," he smiled as he crossed the foyer threshold. Joe had great respect for Dr. Dewey even though their lives couldn’t be more different. Lida’s parents had accepted him and made him feel welcome in their home, in spite of his Catholic upbringing and the fact his family owned a string of casinos.
“Let’s head toward the kitchen,” the Reverend pointed towards the back of the parsonage. "Have you got time for a chat?"
Lida interrupted, "Dad, I'm going to check on mom. Do I need to take her medicine?"
Her dad shook his head, "No, sweetheart. I gave it to her. Two of the ladies from the church are coming over around seven to stay with your mama for the evening while I go to my meeting."
Lida opened her mouth to protest, but her dad opened his hands. "No argument, Missy. I know your friends are in town and I want you to be able to be with them as much this week as you can. I have all the help I need," he promised her with a kindly smile as she walked over and gave him a big hug.
Lida’s smile was strained. “I love you, dad, but it’s fine for me to stay. I’d counted on being here with you and Mom." She studied her dad’s face and noticed how tired he looked. "I can stay with mom for the rest of the week and you get a break, maybe go fishing or go over to the Camp and rest. How about that?"
Her dad shook his head firmly. "Absolutely not. I’ll stay with your mother until it's all over. Besides, it’s Thanksgiving and my church would die if I didn’t hold a church service on Thanksgiving Day.”
Lida opened her mouth to protest. “But dad…”
“Besides, I love your mother and she’s my wife. It’s my duty as her husband,” he said stubbornly. “Plus, I want to take care of her,” he insisted with a tired smile.
Lida shrugged her shoulders and tried to continue the conversation but was unsuccessful.
Her father raised his index finger in warning. Lida knew from experience the conversation was over. “And I want you to go back to the Coast to see Kat, Barb and Allison."
Lida nodded and left the room.
This was music to Joey's ears. He wanted to talk to Lida about what he wanted for their life. His heart pounded happily as he watched the Reverend fill his glass with iced tea. "Thank you, sir. This looks so refreshing," he said. He was grateful to the Reverend.
"Don't thank me, thank the women of the church," the Reverend said. "Tell me how you been, Joe. What's new at the Magnolia?" John Dewey studied the young man. He liked him in many ways and knew the young man had endured a difficult life at the hands of his brother and father. Over the years, he’d heard stories about how Joe had been battered, bruised and tormented by the men in his family. He could detect a need for male approval and an earnestness about the young man. “How is your brother doing? He pretty much runs the show there, doesn’t he?” The Reverend spotted the shadow that flitted across Joe’s face.
“He’s okay. He’s stressed, but then again, he’s always under strain and pressure. I guess there’s a lot of anxiety when you’re at the top of an organization like Magnolia Enterprises.” His smile was tense. “I’m glad it’s not me, Reverend. I don’t want that constant worry in my life.”
Dr. Dewey reached for the cake knife and sliced Joe a piece of Ginger Cake. “Glad to hear business is good.” He placed the slice of cake on a clear glass plate and handed it to Joe. “What exactly do you do at the Magnolia, son? I don’t know that I’ve ever really known.”
Joe smiled as he accepted the piece of cake. “Thank you, sir.” He admired Lida’s father. He could only imagine how much the Methodist minister hated his only daughter dating the son of a Dixie Mafia gangster. “I’m in charge of Food and Beverage. I manage the restaurants and bars, and believe me sir, we’ve got a lot of them. I also oversee the hotel end of things, but there is a hotel director.”
Dr. Dewey nodded his head. “Whew. That’s a huge, job, Joe. I know you’ve got that huge buffet for lunch and dinner not to mention the fine dining areas. How many restaurants are there?”
“We have a breakfast buffet from six in the morning to nine at night. We have three fine dining restaurants, two coffee shops, a taco bar, a coffee bar and of course, the alcohol bars. It’s a lot of people and a lot of food to manage.” He paused and grinned. “Fortunately, I’ve hired some good managers so that helps.”
The Reverend shook his head. “Whew, that’s a lot of responsibility.” He laughed. “All I have to do is manage my flock here at the church. My job is probably easier than yours.” He looked into Joe’s eyes and noticed the fine lines and wrinkles that had come early in life for the young man.
Joe smiled at him. “This cake is delicious. You’ve got some good bakers in your congregation.” Joe switched subjects. “Yeah, the casino does keep me busy. But oftentimes it’s the same old stuff. We’ve been fairly busy so that’s a good thing.”
The Reverend n
odded and hoped that was true. He'd seen tension and dismay on his daughter’s face over the past few weeks. At first he thought it was because her mother was dying, but now he knew it was more than that and something was wrong. “Lida seems to like it there pretty well but she seems really tense these days. I’ve never known Lida to be stressed at work. She’s an excellent accountant. Do you know if anything special is happening in her area?” The Reverend picked up his iced tea glass and took a sip as he looked at Joe. Did he detect a shadow pass over the young man’s face?
Joe nodded, “Yes sir. She is stressed. I think we’re due a visit from the Mississippi Gaming Commission next week. She’s working extra hard to get ready for it.”
Dr. Dewey frowned. “That surprises me. She’s generally organized and efficient so I’m surprised a visit from the Commission has her so upset. Is that all you think has upset her?” The Reverend continued to look at him.
Joe felt anxiety climb his spine. “Well, we’re busy during the week and it’s booming on the weekends. The hotel is booked, and the Coast is busy this time of year. Lots of folks are flying in for the Thanksgiving Holiday,” he said as he studied his iced tea glass and reached for the sugar. “Then there’s Christmas, then the Snowbirds arrive. That’s a lot of work for her,” he said honestly.
“Ah, yes,” Reverend Dewey agreed as he realized there was nothing else Joe either would or could tell him. “Thanksgiving. The Church is celebrating Thanksgiving with a huge meal at the Fellowship Hall tomorrow evening. Can you attend?”
“Yes sir, I’d love to, especially if Lida invites me,” Joe grinned. He looked longingly at the cake. “Boy, that cake is good.”
“Well, son. I’ve invited you to Thanksgiving and I’m sure she will too,” the preacher said with a wink. “Now, let me cut you another slice of cake.”
“I shouldn’t, Reverend Dewey. I’ve had plenty,” Joe shook his head.
“Nonsense. You’ll work it off tonight at the Casino. Besides, I can’t eat an entire cake by myself.” Dr. Dewey pushed the plate toward the younger man.
Joe ignored the plate as he watched Lida come down the stairs with her small suitcase. She looked at him. “If you drive me over, Joe, I’ll need a way home Monday.”
“It’ll be my pleasure,” His smile was wide. “But, I just told your father we’d come back tomorrow evening for Thanksgiving dinner at the church.” He searched her eyes.
Lida avoided him. She shook her head and wasn’t happy. She looked at her father. “You invited Joe to church tomorrow night?” Her face was flushed.
Her father’s kindly eyes looked down at her. “I did. He said he’d like to come.” He searched his daughter’s eyes. What was going on with her? “I hope that maybe the three of us will be able to get your mother there. I know people would love to see her up in her wheelchair.”
Lida shook her head. “I don’t know about that, Dad. She’s pretty weak today. She hardly sat up for a half an hour.” Lida paused and wiped a tear from her eye. “A trip to church for dinner sounds pretty ambitious to me.”
“Well, we can see tomorrow how she is. Maybe we can do it,” her father encouraged her. “I’d love to have her there for her last Thanksgiving.” His voice was low and emotional. His skin was etched with fatigue lines and seemed stretched over his face. His eyes were sad.
Lida nodded, her eyes burned with tears. “We’ll try.” She kissed her dad on the cheek and turned to Joe. Her voice was cold. “Are you ready to go? We probably should get back.”
Joe nodded but he felt Lida’s pain. “Sure. I’m ready anytime.” He’d have her hostage in his car so they could talk and plan.
Reverend Dewey looked at his daughter. “Lida, have a piece of cake with me before you leave. It’s delicious. Joe can vouch for that.” He winked at Joey.
Lida sighed. She knew her dad didn’t want her to leave. “Okay, but just a small one. I’ve got to get back to the Casino. It’s really busy there with the Thanksgiving rush.”
12
Traffic on the beach road was heavy for a Tuesday night on the Gulf Coast. Tourists had flocked into Biloxi to gamble over the Thanksgiving Holiday. There were dozens of black limousines taking the high rollers to and from the Gulfport airport. Mike, great guy that he was, volunteered to be the designated driver for the evening and currently, only Kat was in his truck. He’d listened happily as Kat conversed with her girlfriends via speaker phone. Barb was holding her own, and the hospital staff we hopeful she would come out of her coma in the next day or so. So far, the group had partied at three of the hottest nightclubs on the Gulf Coast. They’d decided to end their evening with a final drink at the bar of the Magnolia Casino where most of them had hotel rooms.
Kat smiled at him from the passenger’s seat. “Do you think they’ll all have hangovers in the morning?”
Mike snorted. “Undoubtedly! Why wouldn’t they? There’s no question in my mind,” he said with a laugh. “I surely hope some of our college friends grow up sometime.”
Kat’s cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She dug it out and read the digital display. It was from the Biloxi Medical Center. She looked over at Mike, her face pale. “It’s the hospital.”
“Answer it,” he quickly glanced at her.
"Is this Kathryn Benson?" Kat recognized his accented voice. It was Dr. Mahmoud.
"Yes, yeah it is," Kat said breathlessly. "How is Barb doing? Is she better?" Kat held her breath.
"I'm happy to say she's much improved," Dr. Mahmood sounded pleased. "I just got off duty in the emergency department and I stopped over to the ICU to check on her. Her level of consciousness has improved. She’s oriented to person, place and time. We can rouse her, and she responds to her name and most questions correctly."
Kat was overcome with relief. She clutched Mike’s knee in happiness. "Oh, that's such good news." She hesitated and then asked a question. "Do you know what caused it? What made her sick?"
Dr. Mahmoud paused briefly. "Yes, yes we do. Your friend was poisoned. We've isolated the poison as one of the plant poisons. It's the plant alkaloid hemlock."
Kat was speechless. "Hemlock? Are you saying that someone deliberately poisoned her? I don't see how that could be possible. None of us know anyone on the Gulf Coast. We’re just visiting. Besides, isn’t that what killed Socrates?" she asked, her voice bordered on hysteria.
Dr. Mahmoud sighed heavily. "The poison wasn’t a lethal dose. It was enough to make your friend very sick. It wasn’t designed to kill her,” he said gently. “If someone had wanted to kill her, they’d have planned a heavier dose.”
Kat was speechless. “Why would someone poison Barb? She’d never hurt a fly! She’s a nurse in Washington, DC and she takes care of people.”
“I don’t know. But someone did.” Dr. Mahmoud’s voice was gentle. “Perhaps it wasn’t meant for her.” He paused and added, “Nevertheless, we've reported it to the Biloxi police and Mississippi Poison Control, so they'll probably interview you and your friends tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? Okay, that will be fine. Can Barb have visitors?" Kat questioned as she tightened her hold on her cell phone and attempted to control the spread of anxiety through her body.
"I'm sure she can, Miss Kat.” Dr. Mahmoud hesitated a moment before he continued his conversation. “I want you to think long and hard about this. Her food was poisoned, so I'd caution you and your friends to be particularly careful for the next few days while you're in town." His voice had an ominous sound to it.
A chill consumed Kat as an icy sensation ran up her spine. She hugged her arms to her body to warm herself. Her voice was a whisper, "Why? Do you think someone is trying to hurt us?” She thought her heart would jump out of her chest and she felt dizzy.
"I don't know," Dr. Mahmoud said. "What I do know is that your friend’s food was deliberately poisoned. At any rate, I wish you a good evening, and I'm glad I reached you to let you know that your friend Barbara is better."
"Thank you, doctor,” Kat clicked of
f the phone and looked at Mike. Her voice was soft as she pushed her long, dark hair out of her face. "Dr. Mahmoud seems convinced someone tried to poison Barb and he said we should all be very careful."
Mike gritted his teeth. He felt the muscles in his face contract as his stomach knotted up. He replied in a low voice, "I don't think anyone was trying to hurt you or Barb. I think they were more likely after Lida."
“Lida?” Kat’s mouth fell open as she considered his remark. "But why? Why would they try to hurt Lida? Really Mike, you and I know she does awesome work. She’s a total workaholic. The financial records at the Magnolia have probably never been in better shape," Kat declared.
Mike gave her a quick look as he slowed his pickup truck and eased into the turn lane. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of. Perhaps Lida is trying to be too honest and too professional. Joe’s family, the Dixie Mafia guys, aren’t particularly ethical or honest. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were putting pressure on Lida to fudge the books and she’s refused." He looked over at Kat. “Do you understand what I mean. I suspect they have pressured her to alter their financial records.”
Kat stomach twisted into a knot. Fear jumped up her spinal column. She remained silent as Mike pulled into a parking space. She got out of the car, looked across the lot and saw Lida and Joey embraced in a hug as they stood next to his Jaguar.
She nudged Mike and said, "Look over to your left. It looks like any problems between Lida and Joe have been worked out. That's a relief," she said as she took a big breath.
"I hope you're right, Kat. Things aren't always as they appear," Mike said, as he pressed his lips into a thin line, took her arm and escorted her into the Magnolia Casino.
