Chapter Twenty-Five

This was the second night—or morning—in a row he'd spent tossing and turning on a hard, narrow surface designed only to very temporarily seat posteriors, not to cradle a recumbent full-length human form. Especially not when that form happened to be six-feet-plus and the black leather sofa in his office was barely five feet long, and barely as wide again as his shoulders. Of course, he could have had his pick of any of the guest rooms in the casino. Each featuring at least one king-size bed at the very minimum, with the highest industry standard mattress and bedding. He could have been out like a light in no time.

But this was penance, the best he could do on short notice. Leaving behind the scene of his most recent, returning to the scene of so many previous debacles with Ethan, and seeing what transpired, all while being very, very uncomfortable.

Would Ethan's ghost glide through the paneling, place his hands on his hips, throw his had back and laugh like a movie cavalier of old? Or would Ethan emerge swathed in a heavy black hooded cape that concealed him from head to toe, permitting only an accusatory pointed finger to emerge from a dangling sleeve. How about as the burnt shell of a man dragging himself along the floor as if bearing on his broken back the weight of airplane wreckage….

Zach forced his eyes open, but the room was inhabited only by him in his all too bodily form. No ghostly ones. They were all in his head…almost all.

Fuck. That seemed to be Zach's mantra these days. Say but not do.

What was he going to do now? That one little match he'd struck in the darkness only to see by, impersonally if helpfully cupping a hand around its tiny vulnerable flame…not even breathing on it…it had still blazed up in his face as instantly as if applied directly to an open powder keg. Wasn't that how a forest fire started? All it took for effortless arousal of the biggest, most devastating inferno was one tiny point of flame.

Earth, water, air, fire…fire was one of the four elements some ancient determined as essential to form and mold matter into something from which a spark of life could be lit into existence. So if fire was intrinsic to life and if like attracted like how could anyone be held responsible for participating in what was only a natural, innate process? To believe otherwise was as illogical and self-defeating as believing in a god that would create a human being only to condemn him for being human. On the other hand…fertilizer also ignited via a natural process.

So which way is the trick supposed to work? Play with matches or don't play with matches, either way you get burned.

Giving up on using the sofa for a bed, Zach swung his too-long legs to the floor, leaned back against the seat and craned his neck to look behind him. It was still too early for even a hint of gray to begin edging under the solid black rectangle of sky framed by the window. Sighing, Zach climbed to his feet, stretched his legs, and went to his desk. He'd not accomplished a fucking thing during his earlier attempt. Maybe, in lieu of a cold shower, it would be possible to get some work done now. At least answer some emails. They were piling up. He couldn't ask Edie to field them all, especially not the private ones.

Regretting the uneaten and wasted gourmet dinner now congealing beneath its covers upstairs in his suite, Zach buzzed down the twenty-four hour kitchen and requested a medium-rare cheeseburger and a pot of strong coffee. Feeling slightly better for the food, he worked into the dawn, clearing his email inbox and viewing the latest reports from the department heads.

Security's report included edited digital footage of J.R. Chandler putting on quite a good show of pretending to have a purpose for hanging around, first the fitness area, then branching out to other areas of ingress and egress, then returning to the fitness area. Eventually Security's footage showed J.R. making a call on his cell phone. According to the next time stamp, J.R. was joined some thirty minutes later by two other young men, scruffy looking and otherwise unidentified, who accepted what looked like cash from J.R. Successive footage showed J.R. leaving the casino, by all appearances under the smug impression his minions were holding the fort down.

The next footage revealed the hired minions wandering into the gambling area, exchanging their folding money for coins, and hitting various slot machines. It didn't take them very long to run through f J.R.'s cash. Then, apparently feeling that the end of his money ended their obligation to him, they were next seen furtively exiting the premises. Zach made a mental note to comp the two young men with drinks and dinner if they ever returned. As far as the casino's own surveillance of J.R.'s surveillance indicated, there was no independent corroboration for what were sure to be Junior's further allegations of an affair between Zach and Kendall. Just let him try. Jealous little prick….

So would that be him…or you? One of Zach's demons piped up, grabbing hold of the metaphorical rug under Zach's desk chair and giving it a yank.

At that point Zach was plunged into the waiting, detailed recollection of the maybe not-so-strange interlude with Kendall in his suite. Apparently it wasn't only those who could not remember the past who were condemned to repeat it. He seemed to be feeling each ill-advised caress again, reliving every ill-advised kiss…as incapable of turning off the flow in retrospect as he had been initially. It confirmed very little had happened, really. The expense of spirit in a waste of shame is lust in action1…and all…all that. So much angst for nothing.

To Zach's relief, a knock came at the door. With his mind so far removed from his locale, he was honestly surprised when Edie entered.

"What are you doing in so early?" he asked.

"Seven-thirty's not that early, boss," she protested. "The light was already on under your door when I got here—no matter how early I arrive, I'll never be able to keep up with you."

If only you knew, Zach thought dryly.

Edie continued, "Besides, I thought you were taking some time off. Come on, boss, I though you trusted me to keep an eye on things?"

"Edie, I do. Perfectly." Zach nodded toward the laptop open on his desk. "Everything looks terrific. I appreciate that."

She seemed mollified, and then her eagle gaze fell on the tray on his desk holding the remains of his middle-of-the-night cheeseburger. Her delicately plucked eyebrows rose. "Oh, boss," she said sympathetically. "You were here all night, weren't you?"

Zach shrugged. "Part of it. Clearing the decks."

"Oh? What's on the agenda, boss?"

"I'm flying to Colorado."

It was a decision Zach had just made at that very spur of the moment. Although he hadn't yet received notice regarding Ethan's release from the Medical Examiner's Office he expected that should be imminent. He planned to then have his son cremated before returning him to Pine Valley. While all the arrangements could have been handled long distance, bringing his son home with him was a small final thing Zach could do for the boy who would never accept any favors from his father in life…one last typically ineffectual thing, since Ethan would never know the difference.

"Colorado via Vegas," Zach added. Several months had elapsed since he'd made a personal appearance at the Seasons West. Now it, or rather the timeless land surrounding it, seemed to call to him as a temporary refuge. The stark desert environment had always been one of healing and renewal for him. Perhaps the atmosphere might help clear his head once again. He would fly there first, then pick Ethan in Colorado up on the way home…if Pine Valley could be considered such for either of them.

One of Edie's many virtues was that once you drew her the big picture, she was able to fill in the finer details herself. He didn't need to explain the sequence of events or his reasoning behind them. She grasped them instantly. All she said was, "I've got it covered. Just let me know when you want to take off."

"Thanks, Edie. You know what? There's no time like the present. Have Travel get me out of here around noon or as close as they can get."

Smartly saluting, Edie departed the office, leaving Zach to contemplate what to do between now and then, besides packing a bag and maybe running a razor over his face…should Kendall not still be in his suite. In any event, he needed to talk with her before he left. As the person closest to Ethan before his death, she had a right to know what Zach intended to do. She might even be able to provide some input to make him consider modifying his plan. If she had any, Zach was more than willing to listen to it. Too bad he hadn't asked her before now.

There was a related issue, too: Zach felt there had to be a very strong possibility that the other missing persons—Erica, Bianca, and Jackson—would be located very soon, perhaps even while Zach was en route to Las Vegas. It was almost beyond his comprehension that they hadn't been found yet, much less that the search would still be continuing after he arrived in Denver. If they were found while he was there, however, it would be much easier for him to handle things from there than for Kendall or Greenlee to fly out. But it was something else they needed to discuss.

If he called up to his suite now and Kendall was still there, Zach wondered, would she even answer? The phone would display the incoming number as being his private office extension, so that she would know it was he calling. Well, there was one way to find out. Actually, there were several ways, only Zach was too aware that indirectly checking up on her would piss her off if she got wind of it. He punched in the number to his suite, hoping for the best.

Hanging up after the fourth ring, before the call went into his voicemail box, Zach tiredly rubbed his face. Kendall either was gone, she was asleep—though it was doubtful she would have slept through the ring, as there was a phone beside the bed on the nightstand—or she simply wasn't picking up. Which left one more direct way for him to learn if she was still around. Exiting by the rear, private door, Zach left his office for the elevator.

His suite was empty. Even the wrinkles had been smoothed from the bedclothes. Taking a quick shower, shaving, and changing into a taupe-colored business suit, cream-colored dress shirt and abstract-patterned tie in shades of teal, beige, and cream for his trip, Zach hurriedly laid out a leather duffel bag on the bed and tossed in a few necessities. As he kept a full wardrobe at the ready in Las Vegas, packing was mostly optional. The main purpose of the bag would be to transport the container of Ethan's ashes, a gruesome purpose which Zach tried to put from his mind for now.

Not too many more minutes later, he was on the road to his and Kendall's condo complex. Discovering that she wasn't to be found there either, Zach mumbled a litany of curses at both Kendall, for playing hard to get when he seriously needed to get hold of her, and himself, for his participation in the mangling of the relationship between them leading to her avoidance of him—if avoiding him was what she was in fact doing. Realizing that he had no phone number at which to leave a message for her, Zach simply dashed off a very brief note stating he was flying out to Las Vegas and then to Denver take care of Ethan and to please call him as soon as possible. He included a list of phone numbers through which he might always be reached.

Folding the note over and scrawling "KENDALL" on the outside of it, Zach stuck the paper under her doormat so that the addressed portion stuck up in front of the door. There was no way she could miss it when she came home.

Just as he finished, Zach's cell phone rang with a message from Edie. He'd been booked on a flight. He had just enough time to make it to the airport for the two-hour advance check-in.

1William Shakespeare, "Sonnet CXXIX."