Jacks Are Wild: An Out of Time Novel (Saving Time, Book 1)

by Martin, Monique

  “They can go from criminal to legitimate businessman just by moving into town,” Elizabeth added.

  “And the government turns a blind eye?” Simon said skeptically.

  “Sort of,” Elizabeth said. “The mob has men everywhere, even in the FBI. Besides, the local government’s making a mint on taxes. Feds tried to make some noise about it in the early fifties. Had McCarthy-style hearings and everything. It shined a bright light on places like Milwaukee and Florida. All those men scurried into the dark and guess where they ended up?”

  “Here,” Simon said.

  “I’m impressed,” Jack said as he looked at Elizabeth with admiration. “You’ve done your homework.”

  “I told you she was obsessed,” Simon said. Then he frowned. “The government must know what’s really going on here though.”

  “They do,” Jack said. “They just formed the Gambling Commission in ’59. Run by the FBI. But it’s early days.” He shrugged.

  “They have a little black book of people who are banned from casinos. Guess who’s in it?”

  “Your friend Marshall?”

  Jack nodded. “And you can see how effective that is.”

  Simon grunted.

  “So, back to him,” Jack said. “All the families, at least a dozen, had a man in Vegas who looked out for their interests. Those are the Inside Men. Enforcers. And that led to trouble.”

  “Hardly surprising,” Simon said.

  It wasn’t. “Right. The families had a meeting and Chicago offered to send a man to oversee them all. Sam Giancana sent Caifano, aka Marshall. He’s the Outside Man. The one who oversees everybody else, who makes sure things run smoothly and that nobody scares the tourists back to Idaho.”

  “But,” Elizabeth said, “he’s also a man who likes to kill people with bombs and set them on fire. So, your mileage may vary.”

  Simon frowned deeply at that. Jack knew he wasn’t keen on this to begin with, and that certainly wasn’t going to help. But it was the truth. Better he know just the sort of person they were dealing with than not.

  “What’s your connection to this man?” Simon asked.

  Jack brought them up to speed on everything that had happened so far, including everything he’d learned about the Santos and his misadventures with Falco. By the end of it, Elizabeth was even more excited and Simon even more wary.

  “So, how can we help?” Elizabeth asked.

  “It would help if you could learn more about the Whitmores, especially Ronnie. There’s some bad blood there. And, honestly, just having another set of eyes on things will be a big help.”

  Simon ran his finger round the rim of the glass the way he always did when he was lost in thought. “And you can introduce us as wealthy friends from California who are always looking for investment opportunities.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes lit with excitement. “I always wanted to be a high roller.”

  Jack nodded. “It might work. Or,” he added and gave Elizabeth a quick wink, “one of you could go undercover at the Lido over at the Stardust?”

  Elizabeth fought down a smile. The Lido de Paris show was one of Las Vegas’ most infamous reviews.

  “Really?” Simon asked.

  “Yeah,” Jack said innocently. “Although I think it should be Elizabeth.”

  Simon bristled at that. “If anyone’s going undercover, it’s me.”

  Elizabeth barked out a very unladylike laugh at that.

  Simon’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “It’s a topless show.”

  Simon’s eyebrows arched in surprise and then his eyes narrowed again. “Are you suggesting my wife appear in a topless review?”

  “No,” Jack said, shaking his head, and trying not to laugh.

  Simon nodded and picked up his drink. “I should hope not.”

  “She’s too small,” Jack said, unable to pass up the opportunity to see Simon squirm a little. And squirm he did. He nearly choked.

  “I beg your pardon.”

  Although, judging from the fire in Simon’s eyes, Jack might have taken the joke a little too far.

  “Not her … ya know,” Jack said, feeling uncomfortable now. “Just her.”

  Simon clearly still didn’t understand what he meant and leaned forward, but Elizabeth laid a hand on his arm. “He means I’m too short. You have to be 5’7” to even get in the door.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Simon said. “You’re perfect.”

  “You’re biased,” Elizabeth said.

  Simon looked at Jack, who merely held up his hands.

  “I have no opinion.”

  Simon raised a brow and nodded. “Wise man. Now, tell us more about Whitmore.”

  Chapter Nine

  THE SANTOS HAD A penthouse, if you called it that in a two-story building, at the near edge of the Elysium wing closest to the casino. It had two exits that he knew of. What appeared to be the front door opened into the main grounds by the pool area and the other was a private exit that, as near as Jack could tell, worked its way through the back side of the casino and led to a nondescript door on the other side of the building.

  He’d found an empty table at the edge of the pool area that gave him a perfect view of the doorway. It was fairly close, maybe forty feet away, but the landscaping gave him decent cover. Between that, his newspaper and his sunglasses, he didn’t look any different from any other guest enjoying the morning.

  Jack put his hand over his coffee cup to signal that he didn’t want a top off. The poolside waiter nodded and moved on to the other guests who were out enjoying the relative cool of the morning. Jack turned over his newspaper and pretended to re-read the sports section as he waited.

  It was a crap shoot deciding which door to stake out, but Susan seemed more like the front door sort of person so he’d put his money on that. That had been two hours ago, though. He might have missed her, or she’d taken the other door.

  He glanced at his wristwatch. It was 9:15. He’d give it until ten and then see if he could track her down and pick up the tail.

  So far he’d gotten a pretty good idea who the players were, but he needed to see the game from further away. When you’re in it, you miss things. And if you choose the wrong door, you miss everything, he thought with a frown.

  He took off his sunglasses, and despite being under the shade of his table umbrella, he squinted at the brightness. Damned desert sun was brutal.

  Quickly, he put on his sunglasses and resumed his vigil.

  Finally the doorway he’d been watching opened. One of the omnipresent security guards stepped out and held the door for Susan. He said something to her and she shook her head. He stepped back inside, closing the door behind him.

  Susan looked around, and Jack lifted his newspaper to block her view. Not seeing him, or anything out of the ordinary, she slipped her purse onto her wrist and headed for the casino.

  Jack put down the paper, picked up his hat and followed. She crossed the casino floor, smiling at a few people she knew along the way, and made her way to the front desk. She briefly spoke to the clerk then retraced her steps back toward the cafe. Pausing at the entrance, she spoke with one of the employees before going to a reserved booth in the back.

  Jack stopped at the entrance and leaned against the wall just outside. The cafe had large plate glass windows running along one side that gave him a pretty good view of the whole place. He watched as she ordered coffee and took a few, quick sips. All of that was perfectly normal, except that there was something off about the way she held herself, the way she looked around. She was nervous.

  Jack scanned the cafe, but everyone there seemed to be the usual hotel clientele. But there was definitely something odd about Susan today.

  She looked furtively around the cafe again and then gathered her purse and gloves and headed toward the back. Jack couldn’t see that area from where he was. He could wait for her here, but he had a bad feeling about that.

  Risking being seen, he went into the cafe and
walked toward the back. The back hallway led to the kitchen on one side and the restrooms on the other. He paused there for a moment. Maybe she’d just gone to the john. But the door to the ladies room opened and an older woman came out. Jack tipped his hat, waited for her to leave and then ducked into the kitchen.

  The workers, apparently used to interruptions and too busy to care, looked up at him, but he just smiled and they went back to work. He made his way through the kitchen to the back door and pushed it open. Susan wasn’t too far ahead. She hurried through the parking lot toward the private back entrance to her own apartment. But instead of going inside, she stopped at a beautiful red and white late model Corvette and slipped behind the wheel.

  “Dammit.”

  Jack ran as fast as he could the other way. Falco’s Caddy was parked in the front lot. Just as he got into it, he saw Susan’s car pull toward the entrance and make a right onto the Strip, away from downtown.

  He put the car in gear and followed.

  If she’d wanted to make a quiet getaway, why hadn’t she just used the other exit from her apartment? It would have been a straight shot to the car from there. The only answer he could think of was that she wanted to be seen in the hotel. She’d gone out of her way to talk to several people, to be seen. So, why the slip out the back then?

  Jack followed her down the highway, and as they passed the Hacienda and started out into desert, he had to wonder how far she’d go. Was she running away?

  He stayed close, but not too close. There wasn’t much traffic going out of town and certainly not at this time of the morning. But the empty highway made it easy for him to see her when, about five miles out of town, she turned off into the parking lot of an old motor lodge. She pulled her car around back, out of sight. Jack parked at the gas station across the street. It was too close, he was risking being seen, but there was no other cover out here. He pulled around in a circle and parked facing away. He watched for her in his rear view mirror.

  Was she having an affair? Jack wasn’t sure that tracked. From what he’d seen, her contact with men beyond her immediate family was limited and superficial, unless he counted her bodyguards, and Big Frank hardly seemed her type. Bobby Lord, as disturbing as Jack found the idea, was probably his best guess, given the options. God, he hoped not.

  He still had trouble swallowing it. Sure, the motel was out of town, but it was too close for comfort. Either this wasn’t an affair or she was new at it. He wasn’t sure which he hoped for.

  A few seconds later, Susan appeared around the corner of the motel and hurried toward a room, reading the numbers as she went. She didn’t know exactly where the room was. This was her first time here.

  Jack moved his mirror to follow her.

  Finally, she stopped and looked around nervously before knocking on the door.

  After a moment it opened and she stepped inside.

  “Come on,” Jack silently urged. “Let me see you.”

  Like magic, a man stepped out to make sure she wasn’t followed. It wasn’t Bobby Lord though.

  It was Dick Jepson, the reporter.

  ~~~

  Jepson. How had he missed that? Good looking enough, he supposed. Hardly in her class, but attentive, interested in her, even if it was probably only for the job. It’d be easy for her to fall for someone like that, he guessed. Especially if she were feeling a little vulnerable and underappreciated. Unethical as hell on Jepson’s part, but it wouldn’t be the first time.

  Jack took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead. It had only been about fifteen minutes, but the car was already like a furnace. He stepped out of the car and walked over to the Coke machine. He slipped his dime in the slot and pulled out a bottle of Bubble Up. Leaning down, he stuck the neck of it into the bottle opener slot and pushed down. He’d always loved the sound of that.

  He took a deep drink from the soda and blew a satisfied breath. That hit the spot. Cans in the future just didn’t taste the same.

  He rolled the cool bottle across his forehead, then started back to his car. Just as he got in he saw Susan’s motel room door open. Jepson stepped out and looked around before Susan appeared. He said something to her. She nodded quickly and hurried back to her car.

  It was strange. No arm touching, no kiss, no lingering looks. Jack had seen his share of affairs, and they never ended like that. It was almost business-like. But if this was a new thing for her, she might just be too nervous to do anything but get the heck out of there. And with good reason. If her husband found out, it wouldn’t be pretty.

  Jack waited until Susan’s car appeared and waited for it to turn back onto the highway before he started his car and followed her back to the Paradise.

  When they got there, she parked in her private spot and hurried back in the same door to the kitchen she’d slipped out of earlier. Jack parked his car in the front lot again, lucky to find a spot, and went back into the casino.

  He checked his watch. The whole shebang had taken about thirty minutes. Easy enough to explain away if she were questioned.

  Susan was sitting in her booth, a fresh cup of coffee being poured. She ordered eggs and toast that she didn’t eat and then left the cafe.

  She paused at the cashier’s desk as she looked into her purse. “I forgot my keys,” she said to the woman working the register. “I swear, I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached.”

  The woman smiled and Susan sighed and shook her head self-deprecatingly, then started back toward her rooms.

  Jack watched her as she went back up to her suite. It was a decent little performance. If someone started asking around, she had a pretty good alibi.

  Jack wandered back over to the table he’d used for his morning stake out to wait for her again, but it was taken. He scanned the area for another, and saw Simon sitting at a table across the courtyard. Cross waved him over.

  He put down his newspaper and took a sip of tea as Jack approached. “Join us,” he said as he gestured to an empty chair.

  Remnants of a half-eaten breakfast littered the table. His wife was conspicuously absent.

  “Where’s Elizabeth?”

  “Doing her best Ethel Merman.” He nodded toward the pool.

  Jack laughed. “I think you mean Esther Williams.”

  Simon grunted, signifying his disinterest in the distinction.

  Cross was wearing his usual ensemble, dress slacks and oxford shirt. He had made an allowance for the heat and rolled up the sleeves to his forearms and daringly had the top two buttons of his shirt undone. For Simon Cross that was as casual as it got.

  Sometimes, Jack didn’t know how he and Elizabeth worked. They were a study in opposites attracting. On paper, none of it worked. He was in his forties and she’d barely broken twenty-five. He was old-school, old money, old family. He had a bent toward broody and preferred the safe route, while Elizabeth practically bled enthusiasm. She was open and fun, and until they married last year, the oldest money she’d had was the twenty found in last year’s winter coat. And yet, they brought out the best in each other.

  It made him a little envious—he had more than his share of failed romances—but it also gave him hope.

  Simon shifted his gaze toward the pool and pushed out a breath before turning to Jack. “So, how did your morning go?”

  Jack tilted his head to the side. “Interesting, actually.”

  He brought Simon up to date.

  Cross hmm’d. “It could be an affair. From what you said about Santo, he’s hardly the faithful type. Maybe she’s just …”

  “Getting a little of her own?” Jack suggested.

  Simon shrugged. “Possibly.”

  His eyes drifted back over to the pool. “Although I’ll never understand how a man could do that to a woman he loved.”

  Jack turned and saw Elizabeth cling to the far the edge of the pool. She waved and swam toward them and the steps.

  “Not everyone is as happy as you two are.”

  Simon glanced at him
and nodded once in concession before turning back to watch his wife.

  Elizabeth leaned her head backwards in the water to smooth back her hair before she started up the steps. It was slightly erotic the way she rose out of the pool, water glistening against her skin. It made Jack feel a little uncomfortable. Elizabeth was a beautiful woman, but she was also like a little sister to him. Seeing her like that made him a little squeamish.

  And judging from the look on Simon’s face, it made him feel a little something as well. Unfortunately, they weren’t the only red-blooded men at the pool. Many an appreciative head turned to watch her. One man even approached her.

  Simon started to get out of his chair.

  “Don’t,” Jack warned him.

  Elizabeth could take care of herself and she resented when either one of them acted as though she couldn’t. Not that that stopped either of them from being ready to knock heads together if needed.

  The man handed her a card and admired her once more. She read it as she walked to their table.

  Simon stood as she neared and wrapped a towel around her shoulders, giving her fans one last glare. He pulled out her chair and she handed him the card.

  “He thinks I’m talented,” she said with a grin.

  Simon snorted and read the card aloud. “Marty Finebaum. Talent Agent. Models. Actresses. And more.”

  “And more!” Jack said with a laugh.

  Simon tucked the card back in his pocket as he sat down. He was always protective of Elizabeth, but there was an extra “r” in his “grrr”, as Elizabeth would say.

  Jack made a note to ask him why later.

  For her part, Elizabeth seemed to think it was equal parts flattering and amusing. She wrapped the towel around herself and sat down.

  She reached for a piece of toast. “So, what’d I miss?” she asked as she took a huge bite.

  “Susan had a rendezvous this morning with that reporter from Sports Illustrated,” Simon said.

  Elizabeth’s mouth opened in surprise. “Jepson?” she asked. “The cute one?”

  Jack nodded.

  Elizabeth pursed her lips. “Veddy interestink. You sure it wasn’t something else? Maybe just more of the interview?”