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 lit
tle 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.”
“If that’s what you believe, then make it easy for him. You have the wings. You got rid of the keys. Now, hide the pictures and go out to the waiting room. Do it, Fanny. Do it right now.”
“I’m doing it, Ash. Watch me. See, I ripped the backing just a little. I’m sliding the pictures down inside. Now I’m hanging it back the way it was. Your mother hung these pictures, did you know that?”
“Take a deep breath, act like nothing happened. Light a cigarette. You can quit another day. Toss your purse on the floor by the chair and walk over to the nurses’ station. Act unconcerned, Fanny.”
“Okay, okay.”
The first person Fanny saw when she opened the lavatory door was Jeffrey Lassiter. She blinked and reared back. “What is wrong?” She knew shock and fear showed on her face. That should prove to Jeff that she was upset over Marcus.
“Nothing. You seemed so . . . upset, I decided to come over here to make sure you were all right. Are you?”
He has mean little eyes, Fanny thought. Why didn’t I ever notice that before?
“I always get upset when I come here. I never know if the news is going to be good or bad.” She tossed her purse onto the floor by the chair she usually sat in. “Excuse me a moment, Jeffrey. I want to check with the nurse.”
“Take your time. I’ll keep my eye on your purse.”
Fanny nodded. She stayed at the nurses’ station longer than usual as she made small talk and accepted a cup of coffee. How many seconds would it take him to go through her purse? Five, ten? A whole minute. He’d have to paw through the junk, open the zipper compartments. Two minutes?
“If you’re sure you’re all right, I’ll get back to the casino,” Jeff said when she sauntered over to her chair.
“I’m fine. I appreciate you taking the time to drive over here. I’ll call you later in the week.”
“You know I moved into the penthouse, right?”
“No, I didn’t know that,” Fanny lied. “It’s quite comfortable. It looks different now than when your father lived there. He was partial to black and white, chrome and glass.”
“You’re sure there is nothing I can do?”
“Everything’s fine. Thank you for coming.”
Her heart hammering in her chest, Fanny watched as Jeffrey walked away. How did CIA spies do this day in and day out? She felt wiped out, frazzled, down for the count.
“You pulled it off, Fanny. That’s my girl. He suspects, but that’s okay. Get those pictures and the keys. NOW!”
“I have other things to do right now, Ash. The charge nurse told me the doctors want to talk to me. They’re with Marcus now. I think there’s been some kind of change in his condition.”
“Those pictures could screw up Sage’s life, Fanny. You have to destroy them. That’s a goddamn order, Fanny!”
“I don’t have to listen to you, Ash. This isn’t the navy.” So much for words, Fanny thought as she headed for the ladies’ room. The ugly pictures and the keys safe in the zippered compartment of her purse, Fanny took her place in the waiting room to wait for her conference with Marcus’s doctors.
The knitting needles clicked furiously as Fanny’s thoughts ran rampant. How did Jeffrey Lassiter get the pictures of her son and daughter-in-law? Was Ash’s illegitimate son blackmailing her son? How could Birch’s wife do such a thing? Her instincts about the young woman had been right. That brought it all back to Sage. She believed with her heart, with her mind, with her gut, that Sage would never betray Iris and his family. If her instincts in regard to her son were right, what other explanation was there for the obscene, ugly pictures? When her meeting with the doctors ended she would take a trip up to Sunrise. She could do nothing for Billie until later in the day.
Fanny adjusted the granny glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. Maybe she should think about Billie instead of the ugly pictures in her purse. On the other hand maybe she should think about Marcus and what the doctor was going to tell her. Was John Noble here? If he was, the medical center was allowing him to participate because he was a friend of the family and for the long years of service he’d given to the center before his retirement.
She heard the steps, knew they were coming at her from behind. Fanny wadded up her knitting and shoved it into the large canvas bag. She took a deep breath and waited. Was the news going to be good or bad? Why wasn’t she feeling something? Why wasn’t her heart pounding in her chest? Why didn’t she feel light-headed? She’d felt all those things with Ash. Why was Marcus’s condition different than Ash’s? Marcus was her husband. Ash was her husband, too . . .
Six doctors! Fanny’s heart fluttered in her chest. Ash said Marcus was going to live. Damn, she had to stop pretending Ash talked and visited with her. If she wasn’t careful, they’d come after her with a net. She let her breath out in a slow swoosh of sound.
She felt at a disadvantage. Ash had always told her never to sit at a meeting. Standing he said, put you on everyone else’s level. Eyeball to eyeball was always best. Fanny was on her feet in the time it took her heart to beat twice. She inclined her head slightly to acknowledge the five white coats. John Noble was in a three-piece suit.
John stepped forward. Fanny thought she’d never seen him look so inscrutable. “There is bad news and good news, Fanny. Marcus woke around two this morning. That’s the good news.”
“Marcus woke and you didn’t call me! Why, John? That’s unforgivable.”
“Yes, it is. That’s part of the bad news, Fanny. We started to run some tests immediately. You couldn’t have done anything except to sit here just the way you were doing. It was a judgment call. The trauma to Marcus’s head is much more severe than we originally thought.”
“Is Marcus going to live, John? I want you to tell me the truth.”
“There is no reason to think otherwise at this time. His quality of life is . . . we think it will be very different, Fanny.”
Fanny drew in her breath. “What does that mean exactly? Spell it out, John.”
“The tests . . .”
“Just tell me, John.”
“Indications point to Marcus suffering brain damage, Fanny. He doesn’t know me. It’s doubtful he’ll know you.”
Fanny shuddered. “Is . . . is he like . . . is he like Philip was in the beginning? I really need to know, John. Don’t sugarcoat this. I want it straight.”
“Philip recovered and led a productive life after his stroke. Marcus’s condition is different. We’re going to run some more tests, Fanny. We just don’t know yet. He’s awake. In my opinion and in the opinion of my distinguished colleagues, that’s a good thing.”
Fanny backed up to the chair she’d been sitting on. John reached out to help her, but she shrugged off his hand. “What . . . what should I do? Shouldn’t I do something? Why are you just now finding this out? Couldn’t you tell earlier? I don’t believe this. Surely something can be done. Do these things reverse themselves?”
“Fanny, when Marcus fell, he hit his head on the concrete. It was a horrendous blow. It’s a miracle he survived at all.”
“Are you saying his brain is scrambled?”
John’s voice was careful, edgy sounding when he said, “I don’t think I’d put it quite like that.”
“That means . . . that means . . . How can God do this to me, John?”
John Noble bit down on his lower lip. He took a minute to compose himself. “Fanny, I’m just a retired doctor. I don’t
have the answers you’re looking for. Is there anything you want to ask my colleagues? They’re the best in their fields. They’ve done everything humanly possible. Aside from running a second series of tests, it is what it is. We’re going to give Marcus a bit of a rest now and start the tests after lunch. You can visit with him now.”
Fanny stared at the man who had been a friend most of her life and at the stoic specialists in their crisp white coats. She nodded. She was halfway down the corridor when she remembered her purse. She went back for it.
Fanny looked through the plate-glass window of the ICU room, her mind totally blank as she stared at her husband. He looked the same as he had yesterday. She wiggled her fingers. Marcus smiled and did the same thing. Please, God, let all those doctors be wrong. She lowered her head, tears dripping onto the molding around the window. When she looked up again, Marcus was still wiggling his fingers. Fanny bit down on her lower lip, breaking the skin. When she tasted her own blood, she backed away from the window out of fear that her frenzy would allow her to put her clenched fist through the glass.
“Whoa. What can I do for you, Fanny? Let’s sit down and talk. Please, Fanny.”
Fanny wiped at her eyes. “I don’t know what to do, John. I didn’t go in because I don’t know what to say. How can a person as strong and vital as Marcus suddenly turn into someone who might not recognize me? We’re married. We lived and loved together. All of that can’t be gone. It just can’t. Why me? Why Marcus? I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel, what I’m supposed to do. He’s my husband. Now you’re telling me he could be a borderline idiot. I hate the word, but it is what you said in a roundabout way. I almost put my fist through the glass a few minutes ago. I don’t think I can handle this. No, no, that’s a lie. I know I can’t handle this. Look at me, John. I’m not Sallie Thornton. Marcus isn’t Philip Thornton. I cannot do what Sallie did. I simply cannot do that. I don’t care what that makes me in your eyes. I refuse to allow myself to turn into Sallie Thornton. Do you hear me, John? I absolutely positively will not allow that to happen to me.” Fanny’s voice rose to a high-pitched scream.
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