Vegas Sunrise

by Fern Michaels

  “If you miss Birch, why don’t you join him? I don’t understand you young people today. If I was married to someone like Birch, I’d be all over him twenty-four hours a day.”

  “We have some things to work out, Ruby. I made some mistakes when we first arrived, and now I have to find a way to make them right. Birch wanted . . . expected certain things and . . . I got caught up in the glitz and glamour. Things didn’t work out the way either of us expected. Birch got violent and used his fists. I couldn’t go out for a few days. Don’t get the idea I was blameless because I wasn’t. I’m even willing to take the blame for my part in the whole thing. A little distance between us for a while will help things. We’ll work it out because we love each other. How are you doing, Ruby?”

  Ruby pretended shock for Celia’s benefit. “Very few changes occur in my life on a daily basis. For the most part I lead a very orderly existence. I’m still looking for someone to take over the ranch. Have you been to the medical center to see Marcus?” Ruby said in one long rush.

  “No. I’ve been thinking about it, though. I sent a card to Fanny, one of those cheerful, keep your chin up things. I made so many stupid mistakes in the beginning I didn’t want to make another one by invading her privacy. I did call earlier. I wanted to be able to tell Birch something tonight when I called.”

  “Tell him Billie, Bess, and John arrived a few hours ago.”

  “Thanks for telling me that. I know Birch will be relieved. Something’s going on with all of them and their mother. Birch didn’t elaborate, and, as I said, I learned my lesson earlier, so I don’t question him. Now, let’s firm up a dinner date for the end of the week. I’ve really got to go home, Ruby. Six o’clock rolls around quickly. It was so nice running into you. Be careful driving home.”

  “How about Friday evening? Sevenish at Peridot. Peridot is Fanny’s favorite restaurant. Actually, I think it’s everyone’s favorite restaurant.”

  “I’ll look forward to it. Take care, Ruby.”

  “Give my regards to Birch.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Ruby watched Celia weave her way across the casino floor. She wondered why she wasn’t exiting by the hotel door if she was really leaving the casino. She stood, her eyes following the electric blue beaded gown that was brighter than the neon overhead. She decided to follow Celia. She didn’t know how she knew, but she knew Celia Thornton wasn’t going back to her apartment. The night was too young to retire the sparkly blue dress. She was proved right minutes later when Celia left the casino by one of the side doors. She risked a glance at her watch; 10:55. Somewhere along the way, Celia had picked up a matching shawl. She watched as Celia threw it over her shoulder with a carelessness of long practice. Ruby’s eyes narrowed. “Just what do we have here?” she murmured aloud.

  Following Celia to the casino across the street was easy, the glittering dress showing her the way. Ruby watched as Celia flirted outrageously with the customers. At one point she playfully swatted a slot player when he reached out to pat her rear end. She stopped just long enough to take a sip from a glass he held out. This young lady had definitely been “around the block,” Ruby thought.

  Ruby stayed on the fringe as Celia fought her way to the twenty-one tables, where she patiently waited for a seat. When a seat opened, Celia sat down and to Ruby’s inexperienced eye, proceeded to act like an experienced gambler. Ninety minutes later, Celia carried her chips to the cashier’s window, $17,000 richer for the experience.

  “I’m not cut out for this detective business,” Ruby muttered to herself as Celia bought herself a drink at the bar. She chatted and flirted with the bartender as well as the men at the bar for thirty minutes. It’s like she’s on a time schedule, Ruby thought as Celia kept glancing at her watch.

  Ruby looked at her own watch and was dismayed to see that it was five minutes past two. She wished she were home in bed.

  Again she followed the sparkly dress out of the casino and back to Babylon. Ruby made sure she stayed far enough away to observe the young Mrs. Thornton, but not close enough to be seen and recognized. At twenty minutes past two, Jeff Lassiter strolled nonchalantly into the Harem Lourge. He exited almost immediately, followed by Celia a few minutes later. Ruby stayed on her trail until she felt a light tap to her shoulder. Panic-stricken, she whirled around.

  “Are you having some kind of problem, ma’am? I’ve been watching you all night. Why don’t we go somewhere that’s quiet so we can talk?”

  He looked like a nice young man but Ruby was having none of it. She shook off his hand, her eyes searching for the shimmering blue dress that was headed for the elevators. “Listen, I’m undercover,” she hissed, “and you’re interfering with my job. My name is Ruby Thornton. Run it by your boss, what’s his name, Neal? He’ll vouch for me. Now, scat, before I make a scene.” The elevator door closed just as Ruby reached it. There was nothing for her to do but watch the lighted arrows at the top of the elevator. The elevator stopped at the sixteenth floor. Were there other people in the elevator? She had no way of knowing. When the elevator door opened, she emitted a sigh of relief. Good. Now all she had to do was find out what room Sage was in?

  “Ma’am?”

  “I thought I told you to stop bothering me. You made me lose . . . Never mind. What do you want now?”

  “I want you to come with me.”

  “That’s not likely to happen, young man. I don’t like pushy people. I’m not doing anything wrong.”

  “You look like you’re stalking someone.”

  “Your eyes are deceiving you, young man. I do not stalk. Men do that to unsuspecting women. You’re trying to put me on the defensive. You’re stalking me! The things we Thorntons have to put up with. I want you to leave me alone.”

  “I work here.”

  “Well, guess what, my family owns this casino. Are we having a standoff here?”

  “It would appear so,” the young man said, his voice edgy.

  “Is there a problem, Anthony?” Neal Tortolow, head of Security and floor manager, asked, coming up behind his Security guard.

  “Yes, there is a problem,” Ruby said. “You know me, don’t you?”

  “Of course, Miss Thornton. What’s the problem?”

  “I’m conducting family business here this evening. Your man here just crimped my style. The person I was observing got away from me. This is not something the family would want to . . . you know, get out. Do you mind if I leave now?”

  “Can I help? Do you care to be more explicit?”

  Ruby sighed. “Without mentioning names will it help if I say it’s about the young you-know-who and the other young you-know-who, both newcomers to this establishment?”

  Neal’s brow furrowed. “Oh.” He nodded and waved her on.

  “Anthony, this is one of those things you learn to deal with as you gain more experience. You were diligent and I commend that in my employees. Miss Thornton is family. Take a break and wind down.”

  Neal kept his eyes on the bank of elevators. What the hell was going on and where was it going on? The old lady was undercover on a matter that concerned two people known as “you-know-who.” At two-thirty in the morning, it was par for the course.

  Neal scribbled a note to himself and stuck it in his breast pocket. The elevator stopped on sixteen—Anthony said customer in blue dress took elevator to sixteen prior to his discussion with Ruby Thornton.

  Celia stepped from the elevator on the sixteenth floor. She scanned the arrows on the walls to see which corridor she should follow to 1611. She sucked in her breath. Was this a mistake? Would it backfire? She desperately needed an ace in the hole. But, would what she was about to do give her that ace? It was a gamble. Solly, her old buddy from BBT, which meant Before Birch Thornton, always said you fuck them before they fuck you. Then you divide and conquer at which point the pie is all yours. What she was about to do would drive a wedge between Sage and his wife, another wedge between Birch and Sage which, in turn, would bring mother Fan
ny into the foray and drive a third wedge between her and her son Sage. Internal family matters would take precedence over business matters and pave the way for Jeff Lassiter to carry out his plans. Jeff would send, anonymously, the little sister’s photographs to one and all along with the astronomical sums of money she’d lost gambling. All the internal strife would cause extreme stress to big sister Sunny, who would collapse under said stress. Yes, what she was doing would definitely be an ace in the hole. For 10 percent of the Babylon empire she’d sell her soul to the devil.

  Celia took another moment to savor the situation she was in. She’d planned this little caper from the day she found out who Birch Thornton was, back in Costa Rica. She’d been clever, too, having the others on the team ask the sticky questions so Birch wouldn’t think she was interested in his money. She’d written letters to everyone she could think of, to verify the Thornton wealth, saying she was a foreign student doing a paper on the gambling business in Las Vegas. The whole process had taken a full year. Her reward at the end of the year was marriage to Birch Thornton.

  Playing the role of the girl next door, a.k.a. Miss Simpleton, had worked wonders. She knew everything there was to know about the Thorntons. Birch loved talking about his family, loved sharing confidences and secrets. She’d soaked it all up like a giant sponge. Sage slept like the dead, according to Birch. According to Birch, waking Sage was impossible, once he was asleep. Once, Birch had gone on to say, he, Sunny, and Billie had tied Sage’s legs and hands and carried him outside and left him in the bushes. He didn’t wake until eight the following morning, when he bellowed like a bull to be cut loose.

  Time to get on with it. Card key in hand, Celia followed the arrow just as the elevator started upward. She slid the card key into the slot, waited a second for the small green dot to appear before she opened the door and slipped into the dark room. The elevator stopped. She heard the door open. She’d made it without a moment to spare.

  Celia waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She removed her shoes and tiptoed over to the bed. Sage lay sprawled across the bed, the flowered spread in a heap at the bottom. He wore only his Jockeys. She took a moment to admire his leanness, his hard flat belly. She wondered if he was half as good as his brother in bed. Birch was wild, but she was wilder. She’d shown him things he’d only dreamed of until he became a sex addict. She knew how to hold him in line, though. When he did something she didn’t like she withdrew her favors until he made things right. That was in Costa Rica. Those tricks didn’t work here in Vegas. Other tricks were required here in this fast-track paradise of neon light. That was okay—she knew every trick in the book and then some.

  Celia reached behind her to pull at the zipper of her dress. It made a slithering sound when it fell to the floor. The lacy underwire bra and string bikini made no sound as they fell on top of the sparkly dress. She moved closer to the bed, trying to figure out the best camera angles. All she needed were four shots. One with Sage’s head between her breasts, one with her on top of him, up high and one low. The last one would be the clincher. She wouldn’t have to disturb him at all for that shot. She could flip him over on his back, strip off his underwear, and get the other three shots in a matter of seconds. Her adrenaline kicked in when she picked up the phone to dial Jeff’s extension. “Now,” she whispered.

  She was perched on the side of the bed when Lassiter let himself into the room. Celia turned on all the lights, her eyes never leaving Sage’s body. He didn’t stir. “Let’s make this quick.”

  “Jesus H Christ,” was all Lassiter could say repeatedly as he snapped the pictures with his Polaroid. “Let me take a couple of extras just in case. I have to tell you, Celia, this is one obscene shot. Good, but obscene. I really didn’t think it was possible to get a full shot of your face, his face, your breasts and his dick all in one shot. We need a couple of these.”

  “Shut up and be done with it already.”

  Five minutes later, Celia was completely dressed. She turned off all the lights. She waited until Jeff left, then waited five more minutes before she opened the door. She looked to the left and right before she stepped into the hall to head for the elevator.

  “A very productive night’s work,” she murmured on the ride down to the lobby.

  Ruby Thornton peered between the leaves of a palm tree. A quickie? Obviously. She watched as Celia left the building by the hotel entrance. For all her efforts the only thing she knew for certain was that Celia Thornton had gone to Room 1611. She’d followed the young woman’s perfume trail that ended at the room registered to Sage Thornton. The only thing she didn’t understand was why Jeff Lassiter took the elevator to the sixteenth floor shortly after Celia. She almost choked when the word “threesome” ricocheted inside her head.

  “I need a drink,” she muttered.

  “Is anything wrong, Miss Thornton? You look like something’s bothering you,” Neal said.

  “Nothing’s wrong. I’m leaving now.”

  “It’s a long ride out to the ranch. Would you like me to get someone to drive you? It is close to three-thirty. I worry about women out alone at this time of night.”

  “Perhaps an escort to my car. Thank you for the offer. I’ll keep my doors locked.”

  Neal watched Ruby leave. He knew something had gone on in the casino. Something he wasn’t privy to. It irked him that he had no proof, no one to blame. If Ash Thornton were here, he’d have the answer within minutes. He sighed. As much as he wanted to be like Ash Thornton, he wasn’t ever going to reach that status. All he could do was keep his eyes and ears open and deal with the real problems that surfaced every five minutes. He had to deal in facts and what his eyes saw and what he could prove if it came to a court of law.

  Celia let herself into the small one-bedroom apartment. It was a rathole pure and simple. She looked around at the Goodwill furniture, the threadbare carpets, the crusty lampshades on rusty lamps. The only thing that could be said about the apartment was it came furnished. There was no way she was sleeping here. She would never put an ounce of food in the filthy refrigerator. She wouldn’t even sit at the table to eat take out food in cartons. Her bags were still packed. This place was for derelicts. She was far from a derelict. Right now she had $17,000. She could go to any hotel on the Strip and that’s exactly what she was going to do the moment she checked the messages on her answering machine.

  Careful not to touch anything, Celia pressed the Play button. She smiled when she heard Birch’s voice. The smile left her face as she listened to her husband tell her he was dining out with Sunny’s therapist. “I should be home early, Celia, if you want to call. We had a good day today. My uncles work like Trojans. Sunny is really doing well, and so is Harry. That’s why Libby feels she can leave them for a quick bite. All any of us have eaten for the past week is fast food. It gets to you after a while. Have you talked to Sage or Mom? I’ll wait up till midnight my time. If I don’t hear from you tonight, call me tomorrow. Hope the job’s going well.”

  Celia erased the message and rewound the tape. “Dinner with Libby Maxwell, eh. As if I care? Still, tomorrow I’ll have to offer up a jealous protest, I guess.”

  Bags in hand, Celia walked down the three flights of steps to her car. She threw the canvas bags into the trunk. “Riviera, here I come. Clean sheets, a clean bathroom, and Room Service. What more could a girl ask for?”

  9

  Fanny woke slowly, aware that she’d slept in her clothes. She rubbed her eyes until she was fully awake, a deep, gut-wrenching moan escaping her lips when she realized she hadn’t been dreaming. It was all real. Marcus was in the hospital, and his chances of recovering were slim to none. Her children had deserted her, and she was alone. Had she dreamed that Billie and Bess were here? She strained to hear any sound in the house that would indicate her two best friends in the world had come to her aid. What could they do? What could anyone do?

  Were the blinds and drapes closed, or was it dark outside? It must be evening since a night-l
ight glowed in the hallway. When had she come home? Yesterday, today? What time was it? What day was it?

  Fanny rolled over and buried her head in the pillow next to her. The pillow smelled like Marcus’s aftershave lotion. She rolled over and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Maybe she should take a shower and add another towel to the pile on the bathroom floor.

  Merciful God, who was this creature staring at her in the mirror? Fanny backed away from the vanity mirror to sit on the edge of the bathtub. Her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking, she cried. How had her life come to this? Weary to her bones, she stood and stared again at her reflection for a long time. Her fingers were clumsy when she opened the medicine cabinet. She looked at the array of prescription bottles lined up on the top shelf; some hers, some belonging to Marcus. Most were antibiotics and muscle relaxants. Somewhere, though, there was a bottle of sleeping pills John Noble had prescribed for her when Ash and Simon died. They were so strong she’d never taken any after the first one because it had left her groggy for days. She couldn’t remember now why she had kept them instead of flushing them down the drain.

  Fanny poked behind the talcum and Vicks VapoRub until she found the round squat container. Nine pills. Should she take them all or just half of them? Would taking all of them at once make them work quicker? Would she die with five as opposed to nine? Who cared? Why was she even worrying about the amount? She’d take them all and go back to bed. She’d go to sleep and never wake up. She brightened momentarily when she thought about seeing Ash again. He’d have a fit if she took the pills. He’d fought for his life like a tiger, and here she was taking her own life because she couldn’t cope anymore. Ash would be ashamed of her.

  The bright red pills in her hand, Fanny sat back down on the edge of the tub, tears rolling down her cheeks. Such a cheerful color. Red was a wake-up color. Why weren’t these pills gray or some dismal brown color? She slid from the edge of the tub to the floor, hugging her knees, her head bowed. In her life she’d never been this tired, this weary.