After Beth’s death, Catherine had attempted to gain custody of Madison, but she had not succeeded.
He had no idea where Catherine was now. He hated her. She actually believed he’d killed Beth—the love of his life. It was unthinkable she would believe such a thing.
Sometimes, when he relived that night, the horror was too much to bear. And the sadness . . .
Now time had passed since he was acquitted, and he wanted his daughter back.
“She’s better off staying with us,” Tina informed him.
“No, she’s not,” he argued. “She should be with me.”
“You live in some crummy hotel,” Tina pointed out. “Who’ll look after her?”
“I’ll get an apartment, hire a nanny.”
“Is that how you want your daughter raised—by a nanny? That’s not fair to Madison. She’s happy around Susie and Harry.”
“I know, Tina, and I appreciate it, only I gotta claim my life back—and Madison is my life.”
After his acquittal he’d legally changed his name from Castellino to Castelli. He’d torn up the letters and photos he’d received from all those women, and tried to stay out of the limelight. People had short memories—it was only a matter of time before they’d forget the notorious headlines and he could slide back into obscurity.
Bone had left town. According to Gus, he’d moved out to the West Coast. He knew beyond a doubt that Bone and Mamie were responsible for Beth’s murder. The two of them together had hatched some kind of diabolical plot. But why? That was the question. What had Beth done to them? Did they hate him so much that they had to murder the one woman he loved?
Vito Giovanni had counseled him. “Look at it this way,” Vito had said. “You whacked Roy. Then someone did this unfortunate thing to you. Now ya gotta leave it alone—you’re even.”
Even! Was Vito fucking crazy? They’d never be even.
“Michael,” Tina said, interrupting his thoughts, “can you help me bring out the cake?”
“Sure,” he said.
“Can’t wait for Vegas this weekend,” she said excitedly as he followed her into the kitchen. “It’ll be so much fun!”
What was fun anymore? He didn’t know. He didn’t care. He’d promised Tina and Max a weekend in Las Vegas to celebrate their wedding anniversary, and he would try to make it fun for them.
Everyone sang “Happy Birthday,” while Madison jumped up and down squealing with excitement. Harry made a futile attempt to shove her face in the cake. Susie slapped him away. Tina began yelling at them both. There were kids and toys and balloons everywhere.
“Love you, Daddy,” Madison lisped, bestowing a big sticky kiss on his mouth. “Love you sooo much!”
He picked her up and hugged her to him. “You’re my world, baby,” he said. “You know that? You’re my whole wide world.”
“I’m my daddy’s whole wide world,” she repeated proudly. “Love you, Daddy.”
“Yes, kitten,” he said, putting her down. “Ain’t that the truth.”
He’d never get over Beth, but at least he had his precious daughter. That was something.
Returning to Vegas with Max and Tina brought back a rush of memories. Fortunately, none of them were of Beth. He’d managed to compartmentalize his life, and Beth was not part of his memories of Vegas.
They’d left the children with Tina’s parents, so he felt secure that Madison was in good hands.
The moment they landed, Tina was in heaven. “Oh my God! Oh my God!” she said, hyperventilating. “Can we go see Elvis?”
“We’ll never get tickets,” Max said, always the pessimist.
“I can arrange it,” Michael said. “I got connections here.” He was boasting, but why the hell not? If Tina was hot to see Elvis, that’s exactly what she would do.
He wondered if Manny Spiven was still around. Then, for some unknown reason, he began thinking about the blond. What was her name? Dani. Yeah. Dani.
That was a long time ago. A one-night stand. Why was he thinking about her? He wondered if she was still in the chorus line at the Estradido.
No, she was probably long gone, married and living in Omaha with three kids and a fat husband.
“I want to see everything,” Tina enthused as the airport cab drove them into town. “I want to go to every hotel, every casino. I want to drive up and down the Strip. This is so exciting! You have no idea.”
Vito Giovanni had arranged for them to have their rooms comped at the Estradido Hotel. He’d gotten them the best, which Michael was grateful for. It helped that he’d recommended a market buy to Vito—a stock that had doubled over a three-week period.
“Where’d you learn about this shit?” Vito had asked.
He’d shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.”
“I want you t’ do more for me.”
“Fine with me.”
Karl Edgington’s picks were always right on the money, and over the last few years he’d been making himself a small fortune. He didn’t have to work for anyone anymore, he was his own boss—with the help of Karl, who according to Warner Carlysle was due to be released any day now.
“There’s a Jacuzzi in the living room,” Tina giggled to Michael when they all met downstairs for a drink after checking into the hotel. “Can you believe it?” she said, wide-eyed. “In the living room. Max is the happiest man around!”
“I am?” Max said, sounding surprised.
“Yes,” Tina said. “ ’Cause you can take a bath and watch TV at the same time.”
“Maybe I’ll take a bath with you,” Max said slyly.
“Don’t be disgusting,” she snapped.
“Did you notice the mirrors on the ceiling above the bed?” Max asked, giving Michael a quick nudge.
“Guess I missed that.”
“Take a look. Sexy, if you ask me.”
It seemed that lately, Max found everything sexy. He was definitely experiencing the married-man itch.
“Tomorrow I’ll score tickets for Elvis,” Michael said.
“If you take me to see Elvis, I’ll love you forever!” Tina swooned.
“How about me?” Max asked.
“Oh, you. You’re my husband, I’ll always love you.”
“Tonight I thought we’d have dinner at the hotel,” Michael decided. “We can see the show, then take a look around.”
“I don’t want to have dinner here,” Tina said petulantly. “Can’t we go to the Sands, or the Desert Inn, or the Magiriano? My girlfriend stayed at the Magiriano, and she says it’s the best. Apparently there’s an amazing show.”
“Whatever you want. I’ll arrange it.”
Tina nodded enthusiastically.
“Two nights in Vegas an’ you’ll be screamin’ to go home,” Michael said, laughing at Tina’s genuine excitement.
“As long as I get to hit the tables,” Max said.
“You’d better remember what happened last time,” Michael reminded him.
“That was a long time ago,” Max said cockily. “I know what I’m doin’ now.”
“He’s got a hundred dollars to play with, and that’s it,” Tina said in true wifely fashion.
“Yes, honey,” Max said, the five hundred dollars he’d managed to smuggle from home itching to leave his pocket.
Before they went upstairs, Tina decided she should play the slots. She hit a lucky streak, and after forty-five minutes and two jackpots, she came away with fifteen hundred dollars.
“Oh . . . my . . . God!” she exclaimed. “This is the most fabulous place on earth! I wish we could come here every weekend.”
“Well, we can’t,” Max said, surly because he’d already blown a hundred. “Lend me some of your money—I wanna play.”
“No, it’s mine. You go play with your hundred dollars.”
“Selfish,” he muttered.
“I’m not,” she countered. “I won it, and I’m spending it on the kids.”
“Yeah, that’s right—spoil ’em.”
“You two gonna fight?” Michael said. “I thought we came here to relax.”
“We did,” Tina said, shooting Max a baleful look.
“Okay,” Michael said. “So I’ll make reservations for dinner and the show at the Magiriano. We should leave here in an hour. Maybe you wanna go upstairs an’ shower.”
“Why?” Max joked. “Do I smell?”
“Get outta here,” Michael responded.
Tina and Max took the elevator to their room, still arguing, while Michael made his way to the main show room. There was nobody around, so he went backstage. A stage manager informed him the girls hadn’t checked in yet.
“I was, uh . . . looking for Dani. Is she still working here?”
“We don’t have a Dani,” the stage manager said.
“How about Angela?”
“We got two Angelas.”
“What time do they usually come in?”
“You a relative?”
“Yes.”
“The girls are here by five.”
“Thanks,” he said, hoping that one of the Angelas could fill him in on Dani.
Why was he looking for her anyway?
No reason. Anything to pass the time.
The first Angela was not the Angela he’d had in mind, nor the second—a faded brunette who tried to persuade him to come back after the show, promising she’d show him the sights.
“Sorry,” he said.
“So am I!” she said, with a jaunty wink.
Is that all women saw—his good looks? When he was younger and hoping to get laid every five minutes, it had worked for him. Now, at almost thirty—with everything he’d experienced, one-night stands were a thing of the past. He craved love and companionship, a woman who excited him and kept him alert. A woman like Beth.
Only problem: women like Beth did not exist.
When Tina arrived downstairs she was all dressed up for her big night out in Vegas: short, black cocktail dress, three-inch heels, rhinestone jewelry, and teased hair.
“How about my wife?” Max boasted. “Ain’t she somethin’?”
“She sure is,” Michael agreed.
“And I am escorted by the two handsomest men in Vegas,” Tina said, preening as they made their way through the casino to the front of the hotel, where they took a cab to the Magiriano.
Tina loved the Magiriano. She stopped to admire the dancing fountains and the caged cockatoos, while Max tried to sit down at one of the blackjack tables on their way through the casino to the Krystle Room.
“No!” said Tina, dragging him off his seat. “After the show, not before.”
Michael palmed a twenty to the maître d’ so they would be assured a front table.
“I’m so happy!” Tina squealed. “This is my dream!”
Michael nodded. It was nice that someone still had dreams.
Dani—1974
Goddamnit!” the young girl screamed. “Some moron stepped on my fuckin’ train!”
The girl was nineteen years old, six feet tall, and spectacular. Her name was Penelope and she had a mouth on her. She was Gemini’s replacement and worked next to Dani. The only problem was—nobody could replace Gemini.
Dani had been back at work for a year. She needed to keep herself occupied, and nothing did that better than two shows a night at the Magiriano, where she was considered a veteran.
Twenty-six and a veteran. That was Vegas for you. No history.
“Calm down, dear,” said Eric, the assistant stage manager. He was a sweet gay guy, who always looked out for Dani. “You’re upsetting everyone with your uncouth language.”
“Uncouth?” exclaimed Penelope. “Listen to you, faggo. You must’ve heard four-letter words before?”
Penelope was a total pain. Engaged to a young mafioso type, she thought everyone should kiss her fine young ass.
Dani had tried to keep the feelings between them neutral. It simply wasn’t possible. She missed Gemini. She thought about her every day. The night before her wedding, Gemini had indeed gone to see Moralis. Why she’d done so in view of their history together, nobody could quite figure out. She’d gone to his hotel room, where he’d been his usual violent self, locking her in the room, attacking her, raping her, and finally, in a fit of fury, throwing acid in her face. After that terrible act, he’d kept her a prisoner in the room for three days in excruciating pain, until eventually a maid got suspicious and called the police.
By the time the police got there, it was too late. Gemini died on her way to the hospital.
Morgan was a broken man. He blamed Dani for allowing Gemini to leave the ranch that night, even though it was clearly not her fault.
Moralis was arrested and locked in a cell overnight. Somehow or other he managed to hang himself.
Over the following months Dean attempted to comfort Dani. It was no good, she was inconsolable. “I can’t marry you, Dean,” she’d finally told him. “I bring people bad luck. First Emily. Now Gemini. I cannot do it to you.”
He stayed by her side for a long time, desperately trying to persuade her to change her mind. It was no good, she was adamant. Eventually she told him she couldn’t see him anymore, and he returned to Houston. Three months later she heard he’d married someone else.
She didn’t care, relationships were not for her—not even friendships—so Penelope behaving like a complete diva did not bother her.
Occasionally Dean phoned, even though he was now a married man. “How are you doing?” he would ask.
“Fine,” she would answer.
“We’ll always be friends, won’t we, Dani?”
“As long as your wife doesn’t mind.”
She was glad Dean had found somebody who seemed to be good for him—a nice Southern girl with money of her own.
A few days after Moralis killed himself, his millionaire father, Esai, had flown in from Colombia to collect his grandson and take him home. Dani desperately tried to persuade him to allow Nando to stay in Vegas. “Mr. Sanchez,” she’d pleaded, “Nando is better off staying with us. He doesn’t know you. My son loves him like a brother, he’ll be very happy living here.”
“I think not,” Esai had said, cold as ice. And that was his final answer.
Nando leaving town deeply upset Vincent. He missed his best friend, and although he was only nine years old, he chose to be a loner—refusing to make any more close friends. He excelled at school, getting A’s in most of his classes. He also shone at sports.
Dani and he were as close as a mother and son could be. The two of them went to movies, rode bikes, and sometimes they took a boat out on Lake Mead, while other times they drove into the desert and spent the day exploring.
“Will ya look at my fuckin’ train,” Penelope screamed again. “It’s ruined!”
“It’s not ruined, dear,” Eric said, fussing with her elaborate train. “It’s perfectly fine. You’ll go onstage and do a fantastic show.”
“Screw off, you little faggot,” she said rudely.
“Don’t talk to Eric like that,” Dani intervened.
“Are you telling me how to behave?” Penelope demanded, giving her an imperious look.
Dani shrugged. “Somebody should.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Penelope ranted. “My boyfriend could buy this hotel if he wanted to. Then I’d have your ass fired.”
“Go ahead,” Dani said. “I don’t care.”
“Stuck-up bitch!” Penelope spat.
“She’s the bitch,” Eric whispered in Dani’s ear.
Sometimes onstage Penelope attempted to sabotage her. It was all very subtle, but Dani knew exactly what Penelope was doing. After getting tripped up several times, she decided to play Penelope at her own game. One night she flung out her arm and knocked Penelope’s headdress flying. The following night she did the same thing. The sabotage soon stopped.
Penelope received plenty of attention. Men loved her, but not as much as they loved Dani. She had a very loyal fan following, especially when the
conventions came to town—the same groups of men returning twice or three times a year, and always coming to see her in the show.
Shortly after she returned to work, the company director had called her into his office and said, “Dani, the time has come for you to go topless.”
“You know I won’t do that,” she’d answered.
“It’ll be very tasteful,” he’d assured her. “You’ll wear the same lavish costumes, make the same extravagant entrances, except you’ll show your breasts. Is that such a terrible way to make twice your salary?”
“I . . . I don’t know,” she’d said hesitantly.
“What’ve you got to lose, my dear? You’re famous as it is in Vegas. You’re one of the most beautiful showgirls in town. So cash in and make the big bucks while you can.”
“Isn’t it kind of sleazy?”
“Not anymore. All the big hotels are taking their best girls topless. We’re an expensive, classy show. We have to keep up with the competition.”
“I’ll think about it,” she’d sighed.
She’d thought about it for a couple of weeks, and then decided she had nothing to lose. The costumes were expensive and gorgeous, and she knew they’d present her in a stylish way. Plus, there was no man around to get upset and jealous, and as the company manager assured her, the nudity would be brief and tasteful.
The lure of making twice her salary finally convinced her. She was putting everything she earned away for Vincent’s education, and the extra money would be an enormous help. Being a single mother was not easy, so . . . if showing her breasts would double her savings, why not?
When she informed the company manager her answer was yes, he was delighted. “You’re gonna kill ’em, Dani,” he’d said. “They’ll be flocking to see you.”
And that was the truth.
Her loyal fans were also delighted; they even started an official fan club.
She enjoyed her two separate lives. Life one: Mother of Vincent, going to PTA meetings, swim meets, and Little League baseball. No makeup, no fancy clothes, just another mom who baked cookies on Open School Day. Life two: Dani Castle. Famous showgirl. Glamorous, gorgeous, a lurer of men, all of whom she rejected.