by Tracy Ellen
Poor Anna. We’d both been incredibly busy over the last week. Every time we did start to talk, we got interrupted. Either I had to put her off or she had to go put out a fire.
The other girls urged me on, as well.
Taking a deep breath, I concisely told the four of them ninety nine percent of the true story.
I began with the night of my kidnapping, my rescue by Luke, (I omitted Candy’s role in that, as I didn’t want to get them involved in my secret battle with Crazy), our hunt for the person who contracted my abduction, Dickie’s mistaken murder, the decision behind our postponed engagement, meeting the Chicago DDL partners, Luke’s break up with me at James Byrd’s party, the truth behind Luke’s supposed cheating with Crazy, a fun sidebar rehash of Pam’s attack on Crazy, Luke later surprising me at the apartment to secretly swear his love, Luke’s suspicions about his company, Svettie shanghaiing me to get Luke’s help, our subsequent plan with Chief Jack to denounce the killer, and then the final showdown at Luke’s farm where Dan’s unhinged wife Emma was unveiled as the murderous culprit behind everything.
After the story was completely told, I gratefully accepted the fresh drink supplied by the smiling flight attendant. The girls were temporarily silent, all of their mouths hanging slightly open. They’d known bits and pieces of what transpired, but hearing all the events tied up together, it was one hell of a crazy story.
Pam’s forehead was wrinkled again, but Jazy was the first to speak.
“Are you telling me when I got so sick and worried that night you were abducted by Dickie it was because you really weren’t feeling well, too?”
“If by not feeling well you mean shot up with a drug, shoved into a stinking rotten potato bag, banged around in a van, stripped out of my clothes in a freezing abandoned farmhouse, tied to a chair in a kitchen filthier than a garbage dumpster, and getting slivers stuck in my ass so deep while trying to escape that Luke had to operate later, then yes, that’s what I’m telling you,” I replied cheerfully, sucking my finger after skimming the sea salt off the rim of my glass.
“Sweet.” My sister smiled at her best friend. “You were right, I am psychic.”
Tre J grinned back. “Told you.”
Anna rolled her eyes at me, and I smiled over a sip of my spicy Bloody Mary.
Pam checked around to verify nobody would overhear before she whispered half-angrily, half-bewildered, “Okay, I get why Candy was still there that night of the police trap at Luke’s farm, but why has Luke employed her?”
“What the fuck! Employed her to do what?” Jazy asked, eyes narrowing at the same time Anna and Tre gasped in unison, “No way!”
“Yes way,” I confirmed, staring into my drink with a rueful smile, “and that’s what I’d like to know.”
Anna exclaimed, “But why don’t you know?”
I looked up and met her shocked expression. “So far, Luke isn’t saying.”
Anna’s widened for a second and then she laughed softly.
I grinned wryly. “Exactly.”
“What did I just miss here?” Pam sounded confused. “Bel, I don’t believe you can’t get Luke to say what he’s hired Candy to do. Men always do anything you want.”
Tre added, “Women, too.”
There was a trace of sisterly pride in her voice when Jazy stated, “Bel could get a deaf mute to sing like a parrot.”
“A canary, and thanks for your faith in my persuasive abilities, but Luke…”
Anna was still laughing when she interjected, “Oh my God, guys, don’t you get it? Luke won’t jump through Junior’s hoops. That’s why she’s so hung up on his ass.”
After that, heads swiveled to look at me expectantly. Clearly they waited for me to refute Anna’s statement that I couldn’t control my boyfriend with a snap of my fingers.
“Anna’s right.” I shrugged a shoulder and smiled slowly at their shocked faces. “What can I say? To me, there’s nothing sexier than a man with an excellent brain and a mind of his own. As for his ass…I know none of you red-blooded hot mamas need an explanation as to why I’m hung up on that.”
Jazy and Tre J hooted while Pammie laughed and smacked Anna lightly on the shoulder.
After the laughter died down, Anna ventured dubiously, “I guess we’ll have to warn Luke, he made a big mistake hiring Candy for anything. Maybe he doesn’t get she’s crazy.” The worry was evident in her tone that her hero could be such an idiot, but then she zeroed in on me. “You didn’t say anything to explain the big clod of mud wrapped up in my freezer that you won’t let me throw out.”
“Mud?” Jazy repeated with another laugh, turning in her seat to peer at me with interest.
I paused with my glass halfway to my mouth. “That frozen clod of mud, my dear Anna, contains a cast of a boot print I’m tracking down to eliminate a suspect on a completely different matter.”
“Oh, that’s just great, Sherlock.” Anna’s suspicious nature wasn’t assuaged by my answer. She looked around anxiously, as if she would spot the suspect on the plane.
Pam, who had more faith in my tracking abilities, or maybe it was the free flowing booze, shimmied her shoulders while leaning forward to sing conspiratorially, “CSI Las Vegas” to the tune of “Viva Las Vegas.”
“Sounds like a ninja mission to me,” Tre chuckled in agreement, rearranging her long legs into the aisle with a sigh of pleasure.
“Vantastic!” Jazy held up her glass and sang out, “CSI Las Vegas!”
“Fantastic,” I amended with a laugh.
I joined in, shimmying and snapping my fingers while Pam and Jazy mimicked Elvis and sang the chorus of our new version of Viva Las Vegas.
“No! No! No! No CSI Las Vegas,” Anna yelled loudly while slapping the top of the seat in emphasis. “That is not how a good maid of honor acts!”
Her outburst abruptly stopped the singers. Jazy, Tre, and Pam stared agog at Anna, as if she’d grown a second head.
“It’s just a song, Anna.” I tried not to laugh at her chipmunk glower and put a hand on my heart. “No CSI Las Vegas, I swear on Luke’s ass.”
Suddenly, Reg stood in the aisle next to us with his hands on his hips. “It sounds like crankytown up here. Does somebody need a cuddle and a nap?”
“Are you talking to me?” Anna demanded in a scary voice.
As my grinning brother coaxed my glaring best friend away to their assigned seats, I laughed quietly and raised my arm, shaking the empty glass of ice cubes at the anxiously hovering flight attendant.
Chapter XII
“Time of Your Life” by Green Day
Sunday, 12/30
3:25 PM
So far, I liked traveling with my boyfriend. I sent the girls back to their own seats and spent the last half hour of the flight snuggling quietly with Luke. Well, I snuggled up to Luke. My head was in that perfectly comfortable spot on his shoulder and he had an arm around me. Feeling my buzz, I lazily stroked his chest and watched as he flipped through pages of software documentation on his computer with the concentration I gave to juicy romance novels.
McCarran International Airport was crazy busy. One of the pros of traveling with a pack of alpha males was the girls twiddled our thumbs and girl talked while everything was arranged for our convenience. Reg ran the show since it was his wedding party. Luke and John stood together to one side like good alphas and let him. Of course, that didn’t stop them from keeping their eyes peeled on the activity around us, ready to step up whenever Reg asked.
Anna’s good mood was refreshed from her short nap and she appeared to hold no grudges after I’d scared her with investigation talk. In the next limo ride from the airport to our hotel, she excitedly described the various amenities arranged for our stay at the Bellagio--compliments of the baron.
We had the use of the Chairman Lounge for our convenience. Their services arranged pretty much anything we may need or want, from limo service, to tickets for the best seats at shows playing in Vegas, to skipping to the head of the line at
restaurants and buffets. The baron had wielded his magic and booked each groom an Executive Parlor Suite to stay in with their friends until the weddings took place, and then they would join their bride in her suite.
The Executive Parlor Suite included a billiard room, bar, media room, and a bedroom. Anna read from a printed itinerary, after she passed us all copies.
“The men are all gathering tonight for a joint bachelor party for Reg and Eric George in Reg’s suite. A catered dinner will be served at 6:00 PM,” Anna glanced up at the guys with a smile, “and then you will all do whatever it is men like to do at bachelor parties.” As they clapped and catcalled, her smile disappeared and she stared down Reg. “While keeping in mind you do not want to piss me off, of course.”
“That’s on my mind my every waking moment, Anna love,” Reg replied, kissing her soundly.
“Woo hoo, she’s scary,” Ash exclaimed. “Dude, I’m glad it’s you getting hitched.” He grinned broadly around the limo. “Me? I can partake in everything Vegas offers a single, good-looking man blessed with a big...”
“Mouth?” Anna interjected dryly.
“Head?” Tre suggested with a wide smile.
“Ego?” Pam giggled, kicking Ash lightly in the shin.
“Wallet?” Jazy asked, flashing her dimples. “Money will buy you anything in this town.”
Everyone looked towards me and I shrugged. “Sorry, but I’m drawing a blank here trying to come up with one thing Ash could be blessed with that I’d call big.”
John Smith’s yipping laughter was the loudest.
Ash struck a pose hand on his chest. “Heart, mean girls. I am blessed with a big heart.”
“Uh huh.” Reg waved a folded bill in the air. “I’ve got a Benjamin that says Mr. Big Heart is passed out before seven o’clock.”
Henry reached for his back pocket. “Since I predict he’ll be reenacting The Lion King, I’ll double that.”
“On what basis do you predict The Lion King?” Crookie inquired, head tilted.
“If Ash thinks he’s getting lucky, he sings The Lion King,” Henry answered, as he pulled out two crisp one hundred dollar bills.
While Ash blustered and we laughed, Crookie nodded slowly. “The Lion King runs for 88 minutes, so I will bet with Henry.”
Henry smiled and held up a fist. “Good man.”
As they bumped fists, Luke pointed to Reg. “My money’s on you.”
Reg nodded back. “Smart man.”
I sat up and opened my purse. “I want in on this, too. Two hundred says the little harpy fighter is right.”
Everyone got in on the bet then. Wallets opened and while money flew back and forth across the aisle to Reg or Henry, my boyfriend leaned down and asked curiously, “Why did you bet on Reg?”
I angled towards him and replied in a low voice, “I didn’t. I bet on 179 minutes.” I held up my phone and showed him the time. It was 4:01 PM. I set the phone down on my lap and caressed his cheek. “And you.”
My boyfriend looked into my eyes and his smile grew. It was a rare, genuinely open smile, the one his mother probably saw frequently when Luke was a boy before life hardened him into the secretive man fate had selected for me to love.
He shook his head in admiration. “That brain of yours.”
I grinned, thinking of my recent conversation on the plane with the girls about Luke’s brain. “I know, wouldn’t you just love to fuck it to death?”
Luke’s laughter got everybody’s attention.
Anna laughed, too, even as she asked, “What’s so funny, Luke?”
He kept shaking his head, but instead of answering he asked, “What are Eric George and his friends up to later on when we hit the casinos?”
I had wondered how it was going to work for the under twenty-one faction. It almost seemed cruel to visit Vegas when you couldn’t gamble, drink, or even hang out in a casino. Having entertainment like movies and a pool table in their own suite was ideal for the younger guys, but if I was them, I’d want to get out and see the town, too.
“Tonight they’ve got tickets to The Black Keys concert at the Hard Rock Hotel. They have plans to go drive a Lamborghini at some raceway while they’re here, too.”
My bat-like hearing picked up Ash informing Reg that most of the topless shows were eighteen and older.
Burlesque shows with some T and A seemed relatively harmless to me, although I guess it depended on the couple’s viewpoint on the subject. I know some women didn’t care if their men were into porn, patronized strip clubs, and accepted that bachelor parties with hired strippers, if not actual hookers, were an American wedding ritual that had to be endured. Other women freaked the hell out at any or all of the above. Never being part of a couple with a man of legal age before now, I’d never given the issue of strippers and hookers much thought.
Across the narrow aisle of the limo, I stared at the smirking face of John Smith. He’d overheard Ash’s comment to Reg about the topless shows, too. It didn’t take him long to feel my eyes. When he lifted his thick brows in question, I gave him a subtle Viggo V. It was a precautionary measure in the event he was thinking a bachelor party meant he had carte blanche to sneak prostitutes into their suite for orgies, or take them on a trip to a bunny ranch. I may not have decided my personal opinion on the moral issues involved, but I’d seen “Hangover.”
He stared back, and I didn’t like the looks of his smile when he cleared his throat. “Anna, sorry to interrupt, but can you confirm for the group as a whole--we aren’t in Northfield anymore, right?”
Anna replied warily. “Uh, that’s right, John.” She peered at him closer. “Are you on drugs and not sharing?”
“Thank you for confirming,” he evaded, but there was nothing restrained in the lecherous grin he sent my way while Anna and Pam exchanged confused shrugs.
He was such a snake I had to laugh, but then I explained to the girls, “John’s practicing his Dorothy imitation.” I sighed loudly, and smiled patiently. “John, how many times have I told you it was Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer who produced The Wizard of Oz, not Disney? Ash won’t let you perform with him unless it’s Disney.”
Ash bounded up in his seat. “You want to perform with me? That’d be amazing, man, but Bel’s right. I only do Disney. Do you know any Aladdin?”
“Dude, I don’t,” John Smith replied evenly.
“How about anything from The Little Mermaid? You gotta know this song.” Ash sang a few lines.
“Under the Sea,”
“Under the sea,”
“Darling, its better,”
“Down where its wetter,”
“Take it from me.”
John bit out with a tight smile, “Nope, I don’t swim.”
I stifled my laughter seeing Ash’s expression of disappointment at John’s musical ignorance.
Despite Luke’s grip squeezing my thigh, I didn’t look at him or John Smith. Studiously, I kept my eyes on Anna’s face while she hurriedly covered the silence with continued descriptions of the delights in store for us all.
“Our joint bachelorette party begins with a visit to the spa where we are getting the works. Pampering massages are on the menu and other treatments with mysterious names that I have no idea what they are.” She raised her arms and shouted, “But it’s my last night as a single woman, so let’s live dangerously!”
We clapped excitedly and Pam whistled.
Reg called out, “Brazilians for all!”
Anna shoved him without looking and smoothly went on, “Later, we’ll have dinner, hit some shops, and then those that want will go out clubbing.” Anna shrugged and added sympathetically, “Poor Stella, with the baby and the time change, she’s going to be tired early.”
As the girls asked Anna questions about the spa, Luke asked me in a low voice, “What’s your problem with John, Princess?”
I angled towards my boyfriend again. “Have we ever discussed our viewpoints on strippers and prostitutes?”
He patted my thigh
, eyes glittering wickedly. “Rest assured you are the only woman I pay to have sex with.”
“And pay dearly you will,” I smiled sweetly, “if I hear that supposedly reformed sex addict John Smith uses this trip as an excuse to get up to his old tricks of debauchery.”
He pulled his head back to regard me with hooded eyes. “Are you threatening me, Anabel?”
“Never,” I emphatically vowed, hugging his arm. “I am promising you, my Master of Delight.”
He snorted. “Are you seriously worried John’s going to hire prostitutes?”
“Hmm, let me think. Oh wait, no need. Yes.” I motioned my head towards John and Pam. “Not that I’m worried John will hire hookers. He is the one who should be worried if he even considers it.”
Glancing over at John, the oily charmer was ogling Tre’s impressive bosom. He shot me a sideways smirk, even as his hand rubbed Pam’s shoulder and he kissed her cheek.
I rolled my eyes to let him know his amateur display to push my buttons wasn’t working.
Luke kept his voice low. “How would you like it if I held you responsible for Jazy’s actions?”
“I expect you would, if Jazy hired prostitutes and I was idiot enough to participate. My sister is single. She has a philosophy regarding sex similar to a single man that I happen to share. Jazy’s a slut, and mentally, I’m a big fat slut, too. The only reason I’m not physically a slut like her is because my mind isn’t attracted to most men and won’t let my body be a slut unless I am. But neither of us are whoremongers like John Smith. Big difference.”
Luke eyes moved over my face in that familiar gaze of fascination before he replied slowly, “I know John was a single male until he recently got a girlfriend, but I’ve never known him to have to pay for sex. When did he become…” Luke didn’t bother concealing his delighted grin, “a whoremonger?”
“Oh, quit using logic on me,” I complained with a begrudging smile. “Nobody has more potential to be a whoremonger than John Smith. I don’t trust him one iota.”
