'Just one more question, Elma. Did Ned gamble?'
'Gamble? He might bet a dollar on a football game once in a while. But he didn't play the horses, if that's what you mean. He didn't even buy lottery tickets. Why?'
'He didn't like casino gambling? Dice? Blackjack?'
'No. I don't think he's been to Las Vegas more than three times since we've been married. He helped to get financing for a casino once, but that was strictly a business deal. Of course, I don't know what he did at this casino you said James has.'
'That isn't a real casino. No money changes hands.'
'I have a question,' Arrow said. 'James may make an offer to buy your stock-and everybody else's. Would you sell?'
Elma smiled at her audacity. 'I haven't spoken to James in over five years.'
'He seems to prefer boys to girls now.'
'There were shades of that even when he was a teenager back in Wick. I was young and naive, it's true, but I always thought his roughhousing with his friends went beyond the bounds of camaraderie.'
Chapter 16 THE HOAX
Again it looked as though my involvement with Dionysus had ended. Arrow knew as much as I did about the threat James posed and was in a better position to take action on it. And I didn't know what else I could do to clear Ned's name. But my family responsibilities hadn't ended.
By the time I got to the hospital Monday morning, Jacie was already there. I had gained a new respect for her, watching her concern about and care for my father. She was reading to him from the Wall Street Journal. He was sitting up in bed and looked much better. He was still hooked to a heart monitor and an IV, but he wasn't receiving oxygen.
I forced myself to give him a quick hug and said, 'You look good, Dad.'
'I feel fine. I'm ready to go back to work.'
He spoke slowly, but at least he wasn't slurring his words.
Jacie patted his hand and said, 'You'll be back at work soon enough, Richard. Relax and enjoy your vacation.' To me she said, 'He can move his right arm.'
My father demonstrated, and although he was stiff he did manage to lift it.
'The doctor said I can start physical therapy soon,' he said. 'I'll be back to walking in no time.'
'Do as Jacie says and enjoy your vacation,' I said. He was too anxious to get back in the game. And the game could kill him if he wasn't careful. I couldn't picture life without my father. I wondered what was in his will and whether Jacie would kick me out of the guesthouse. Selfish thoughts. More important was what would happen to Dionysus.
'I can't let James get control of Dionysus.'
Was he reading my mind? 'Don't worry about James, Dad. Everything is under control. When you've rested a little more we'll play chess together.' We used to play chess when I was young.
'Chess is one game I can beat you at.'
We would see about that. Jacie and I steered the conversation to inconsequential things. He wasn't in any shape to talk about whether or not James might get Elma's proxy and/or her stock, but I realized that he must know about her relationship to James, even though we hadn't discussed it.
I didn't tell him that one of my sources had said that the cocaine was planted in Ned's car, either, because that wouldn't clear his name unless the perps who had planted the drugs were caught. The information would just be a source of frustration to my father.
I left him in Jacie's capable hands, determined to work harder on my sports card business. Perhaps the last few days had made a change in me.
Dionysus stock was down again so I purchased more for Luz and for myself. This wasn't insider trading. The newspapers and the Internet carried the story of my father's stroke. Of course word that he was much better this morning hadn't gotten out yet, but I deserved some kind of an edge.
I had received enough cash flow from my business so that I had recently been able to purchase part of a baseball card collection for a good price. I separated out the more valuable cards from the commons and placed some of the best ones for sale on eBay.
When I updated my auctions on eBay I often checked to see whether other cards I was interested in owning for my personal collection were being sold. I acquired them one by one, as I could afford them.
I was casually looking through the pages of old cards for sale when I caught my breath. There was a T206 Honus Wagner listed. I looked at the scans of the front and the back of the card. No lines or other apparent damage. This might be one of the good ones. The dealer who was selling it said it was in near-mint condition. I knew him; we had done business together many times, buying and selling. He was completely honest. He was probably selling the card for somebody else, but he was staking his reputation on what he said about it.
The bidding was already at several-hundred-thousand dollars, even though the card had only been listed for two days. It would go higher before it was over. I couldn't bid on this card, of course. Some day I would. Reluctantly, I clicked to another page.
I made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and thought about Ned. Arrow wouldn't really be able to dig into his financial situation until Wednesday, after the funeral. One of the puzzles that remained was what he was doing at the casino, apparently losing thousands of dollars, when everybody said he wasn't a compulsive gambler. At least everybody except James. And was James reliable when it came to talking about Ned?
In searching for answers, I remembered Elma saying that Ned had been involved in getting financing for a casino. Any lead was better than none. I called Elma's number and caught her at home. She couldn't come up with a name, but she said it was an Indian casino on the road to Palm Springs. Bingo.
It was a great day for a drive. It was a great day not to be tied down with responsibilities such as a family or having to sit at a desk all day. The sun was shining; it was a day for extolling the wonders of Southern California.
I drove the Jaguar, not only because it handled so well but also because it was the only car we had with a manual transmission. Shifting gears made me feel as if I were accomplishing something-actively driving the car instead of having it drive me.
I took Pacific Coast Highway to the 110 Freeway, aka the Harbor Freeway, because it goes to the Los Angeles Harbor. Giving it a number to replace the name de-romanticized it, made it mundane. I headed north, away from the harbor, and bore right on the 91 Freeway, which was called a variety of names, depending on the year and where you were on it.
Traffic was moderate, meaning it was moving at 65 miles-per-hour or higher. The Jag rode effortlessly at 70, but I refused to go faster because exotic red cars attract the attention of the California Highway Patrol. We were in synch, the car and I, as it responded to my every touch. We passed from Los Angeles County into Orange County. Miles and miles of well-groomed stucco suburbs. Then Riverside County. Through Corona, once a farming community, now motels and fast food.
As we approached the Inland Empire city of Riverside I headed east on Route 60, through the Moreno Valley, one of the fastest growing communities in the state. Wound through foothills and down to the floor of the Coachella Valley and Interstate 10, the east-west artery that is often followed to LAX by planes coming from the East.
I got a close-up look at massive Mt. San Gorgonio, all 11,500 feet of it, which was visible from my window at home on a clear day, and Mt. San Jacinto, less massive at 10,800 feet and not visible from home because of intervening mountains in Orange County.
