Betting on Hope

Chapter 22



Twenty minutes later the service driveway was crowded with police and emergency vehicles, security personnel, FBI agents, cops, and EMTs. Two young, handsome paramedics from the fire department checked out Faith. Behind them, a police photographer took pictures of smashed beets that had left brilliant purple stains on the casino walls where they’d hit, random rutabagas and stray carrots rolling around on the ground, and a large, pink dildo lying on the loading dock.

Faith felt woozy, disoriented, and flustered from the male attention. One of the EMTs flashed a light in her eyes, and one examined her aching wrist.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” the tall blond one said as he wrapped an elastic bandage around her wrist, smiling at her. “But you’ll need to go to the hospital and get an X-ray just to be sure.”

“I don’t think you have a concussion,” the one with the smoldering eyes said. “But they can check you out there. Will your insurance cover Las Vegas General? They’ve got a good emergency room there.”

“That’s fine,” Faith said.

The naked man who’d been lying on the pavement—Faith had been right about that—was now lying on a gurney with an IV running in his arm, where another set of paramedics worked on him.

“Is he going to be all right?” Faith asked as the EMTs packed up their gear. “What was he doing in my truck?”

“We think it was some kind of religious cult that worships vegetables as sexual symbols,” Smoldering Eyes said.

“Really? Well, I’m all for that,” Faith said.

“Our other patient doesn’t have anything life-threatening,” Blondie said, nodding at Big Julie. “He should be all right.”

“Wait right here for a minute,” Smoldering Eyes said. “The police want to ask you a few questions before we take off.”

Faith sat in the open doorway of the ambulance, feeling the heat beat down on her bare head. Where was her hat? Her arm throbbed. She should call Hope. She would call Hope when she got her phone back.

A uniformed cop about a size too large for his uniform came over with a notebook.

“I understand that’s your van,” he said.

“Yes,” Faith said for what seemed like the hundredth time. “I was unloading crates of vegetables. Some guys burst out of the kitchen, pushed me back, I fell off the dock, knocked myself out. They stole the van, but they didn’t get very far. Just across the parking lot. As you can see. Before they got into an accident. Can I go to the hospital now? I don’t feel very well.”

“We’re going to have to confiscate the load for evidence,” the cop said.

“Confiscate the load? You mean the vegetables?” Faith asked, not understanding. The cop nodded.

“You can’t,” Faith said, puzzled. “The Ginger Palace paid for those vegetables. They’re fresh. The chef—Kenji Hasegawa—he needs them. For the customers.”

“They’re evidence in a criminal proceeding,” the cop said. “They’re the weapons.”

“They’re not weapons!” Faith said. “They’re beets! They’re dinner!”

“And we’re taking your truck, too,” the cop said.

“You can’t!” Faith said, feeling hot, wounded, angry, and abandoned. Her wrist hurt, her head throbbed, she felt dizzy, and she wanted to go to the hospital. “I need the truck to work!”

“You’ll get it back,” the cop said. “Here’s a receipt.” He handed her a pink slip of paper.

“When? Next month, when it’s too late?” she said, kicking the ambulance, hurting her toe.

“When we’re done with it,” the cop said, closing the notebook.

“Where were you when the van got stolen, that’s what I want to know,” Faith said. “Some cop you are.”

“Miss? We’ll take you to the hospital now,” Blondie said.

“Sure,” Faith said, climbing into the ambulance, taking care that she didn’t hurt the hand that was screaming in pain. “You men are all alike. You take me for a ride and then dump me. What do you care?”

Blondie looked startled and then glanced at his partner.

“We can give you something for the pain,” Smouldering Eyes said.

“Nothing’s going to fix this,” Faith sniffed, but she let him stick the needle into her arm anyway.



When they got to the emergency room, the paramedics walked her up to the desk where a clerk was typing and left her, as Faith knew they would.

“I was in an accident,” Faith said to the clerk. “I need to see a doctor. For my wrist and head.”

“Name?” the clerk said, typing.

“Faith McNaughton.” Faith rested her hand gingerly on the edge of the desk. It felt better to keep it elevated.

The clerk typed in Faith’s name, but then frowned at the screen.

“You’re here for yourself? You mean you’re here for Amber, right?” she asked. “You’re her mother?”

“Yes,” Faith said, confused. “What about Amber?”

“We’ve been trying to reach you,” the clerk said. “We need some information from you about Amber’s health insurance. Your sister—Hope, is that right?—couldn’t supply it all.”

“Amber’s here, in the hospital?” Faith said, suddenly focused.

“She’s doing fine,” the clerk said. “She’s out of surgery.”

“Surgery?” Faith asked, her voice rising.

“Whoa,” the clerk said. “I’ve got your sister’s contact information right here. I’ll call her. She might still be in the hospital.”

“What kind of surgery?” Faith asked, her voice escalating. “And what do you mean, Hope might still be in the hospital? Hope’s in the hospital, too?”

“I’ll call Amber’s doctor; he can fill you in,” the clerk said, punching in some numbers. “And maybe we can get you something for the pain.” She ripped a form out of the printer. “And while we’re waiting, can I get your group number?”



Hope and Tanner had just reached the hospital parking garage when Hope’s phone rang for what seemed like the umpteenth time. The hospital’s number came up on the display—probably more insurance problems, Hope thought, annoyed. But she picked up anyway.

“Your sister is here,” the clerk said. “Faith?”

“Faith got here? Oh, good,” Hope said, relieved. “She can finish the insurance forms, then.”

“She’s doing that now,” the clerk said. “While she waits for X-ray.”

“What? Why is she waiting for X-ray? What happened to Amber?”

Tanner stopped, alert.

“Not Amber, Faith,” the clerk said.

“Faith needs an X-ray?”

“Yes,” the clerk said. “And an MRI. But the nurse doesn’t think her injuries are too serious.”

“Faith has injuries?”

“Possible broken wrist and concussion.”

“What? What happened?” Hope almost didn’t notice when Tanner put his hand on her elbow and started to steer her back to the emergency room.

“She was in some kind of accident,” the clerk said. “I need her group number.”

“I’ll be right there,” Hope said, closing the phone. She turned to Tanner. Her face was pale.

“No wonder Faith didn’t pick up. She had an accident. She’s waiting for an X-ray and MRI now.”

“Good thing we’re already here, then.” Tanner put his arm around her.

“Fifty percent of the McNaughton family today has had an accident bad enough that they had to come to the hospital. The same hospital. What are the odds?”

“I don’t think Jimmy the Greek is taking bets on it,” Tanner said, as the emergency room doors whooshed open and greeted them with a blast of cool air.



Faith was sitting in a hard plastic chair in the emergency room, waiting her turn, holding a lightly bandaged hand gingerly in her lap, and looking wan and disheveled. When Hope saw her sister looking so forlorn, she rushed over and put her arms around her.

“What happened, sweetie?” she asked Faith. “How are you?”

“What happened to Amber?” Faith asked, clinging to her sister. “Nobody can find the doctor, and all they would tell me was that it was a hand injury. And they won’t let me go up there to see her until I’ve been checked out.”

“She was slicing vegetables, and she cut herself. She had surgery to repair nerve damage, but the doctors think everything went okay. She had specialists. We called you a zillion times. I guess we know why you didn’t answer. What happened to you?”

Faith shook her head. “An accident. It was weird. There was a naked guy. I feel awful, but I don’t think I’m hurt real bad. And the cops took my truck! They think beets are weapons!”

“Cops are dopes,” Tanner said, sitting down next to Hope. “Everybody knows only frozen beets can be weapons.”

Hope choked back a laugh as she sat down and even Faith chuckled, a watery sound. Tanner handed Faith the box of tissues that sat on the table next to him.

“We’ll get you in to see Amber,” Hope said, feeling determined. “I bet you have plenty of time before the X-ray. But you don’t have to worry about her. Troy’s staying with her. They’re having a lot of fun up there.”

“Troy?” Faith looked confused.

Tanner nodded. “My kid. She’s on a beading rampage. She and Amber are doing girl stuff, so they’re fine for a while, although you might not like Amber’s new hairstyle.”

“New hairstyle?” Faith asked, but Hope stood up.

“I’ll just go ask about your X-ray. Then you can go see Amber. She was asking for you.” Hope went over to the desk and leaned in. Tanner watched her walk away, the sway of her hips, the slope of her back and the curve of her neck as she leaned over the desk. She was utterly beautiful, and never more so than when she was kicking butt for her family.

“What happened to your truck?” he asked, still watching Hope as she argued with the clerk. Faith told him, sniffling, and by the time she was done, Tanner saw that Hope had achieved victory. She walked back to them, just in time to hear the end of the story.

“She says you can go up,” she said. “The cops have your truck?”

“And the vegetables. I didn’t make the deliveries! Not even to the Ginger Palace. So what is Kenji going to do for tonight? And if I don’t fulfill my contract, he won’t order from me again. I was so counting on this, Hope! My first commercial customer, and Kenji is so nice, and I know he’d recommend me to other restaurants, and now it’s all over because the cops took everything!”

“Faith, it’s all right,” Hope started, putting her arm around her sister.

“No, it’s not! It’s ruined, Hope. And I’ve let you down again.” Faith started to cry in earnest.

Hope pulled her sister into a hug. “You haven’t let me down, Faith! Nothing’s ruined. You were in an accident. We’ll call the customers and explain. They’ll understand. It’s all right.”

Tanner watched them for a moment.

“Faith,” he started.

Faith looked up and sniffed.

“I know somebody who could maybe get your truck back from the cops. But what about the deliveries? You can’t do them if your arm is broken, and Hope really has to get to the casino.”

Faith brightened. “If we could just get the truck to the Ginger Palace, Kenji and and the sous chefs could unload the crates this one time. Like Hope said, everybody else can wait a couple of days.”

“Okay, let me see if I can find my guy.” Tanner took out his phone and pressed the speed dial for Jack Sievers, his childhood friend and lawyer extraordinaire.



As the phone rang, Tanner looked at the sisters—two faces so similar, and yet so different, and only one that made his heart leap—and wanted to wipe the worry from Hope’s eyes.

She shouldn’t have to solve all the McNaughton problems by herself.

“Jack? Listen, can you shake yourself free this afternoon, right now? I have a problem.”

“Tanner, I can always count on you when I’m getting bored. Did the feds toss you in the slammer again? I am ready to go mano-a-mano with that hopeless Frelly.”

“No, it’s not about me. I have some friends here. One of them was in an accident with her vegetable delivery truck, and the cops have confiscated everything as evidence. But her business will take a hit if she can’t make her delivery to the Desert Dunes today. I’m hoping that you can ransom the truck and get it over here.”

“Oh, great, Wingate, another prestigious job. And—not that it’s the main thing, but can they pay me? Or am I doing it for a lifetime supply of carrots?”

“If they can’t, I can,” Tanner said.

“If they can’t, I want UNLV basketball tickets,” Jack said. “Put them on.”

“I should buy stock in that stadium,” Tanner said. “Thanks, Jack. The business owner is Faith McNaughton. Here she is.” Tanner handed the phone to Faith.

Faith looked at him, a question in her eyes, as she took the phone.

“This is Jack Sievers,” Tanner said. “He’s a lawyer. He’s been relying on me for friendship since grade school. I thought I’d give him a chance to do something for me for a change.”

Tanner grinned as he heard Jack yell “I heard that!” And then he turned away to let Faith talk to Jack and was rewarded when Hope gave him a shaky smile.



Hope looked at Tanner handing the phone to Faith and almost burst into tears of relief herself. Maybe this horrible day would turn out okay after all. She smiled at Tanner but felt it crack a little around the edges. He put his arm around her.

“What?” he said.

She felt herself relax into him. She didn’t want to—she could stand up for herself and her family. She’d been doing it for a long time. But he’d brought hamburgers and waited with her for Amber and got Troy to come over and called the lawyer and now he had his arm around her and she didn’t feel quite so alone anymore.

Long-term, card players were not for her. But for right now—she wanted to lean a little.

“That was nice, what you did,” she said. “Thank you.”

He rested his cheek against her hair and she felt herself melt.

“Don’t thank me until Jack gets that truck back by dinner time.”

“Whatever he can do is great. Have him send us the bill.”

“He said he’d settle for carrots.”

Hope smiled into Tanner’s shoulder. “No, he didn’t. I really am grateful, Tanner.”

Tanner rubbed his cheek against her hair. “Grateful enough to go for a swim at my place?”

Hope leaned away from him and looked into his eyes. He smiled, a slow and wicked smile, a smile of promise. His eyes held heat, too, and mischief. But his jaw was determined. Hope felt a shiver run down her spine. He was flirting, but he had Intentions. She knew it.

Would she be willing to go swimming? The idea was attractive, but she feared the waters might be too deep.

Faith closed the phone and turned back to them. She looked happier.

“Jack said he’d try, but no promises,” she said. “He said he’d call me. It sounds like he knows what he’s doing.”

Tanner nodded. “He does. He will.”

Faith nodded. “Okay. I’m heading upstairs to see Amber. I know you guys need to get back to the casino. I’ll be fine. Thanks, you guys.” She gave them each a hug, taking care not to jar her injured arm.

“Watch your hairdo when you get up there,” Tanner warned her as she released him. “Trust me, it’s at risk.” He left to retrieve the car from the parking garage while Hope walked Faith to the elevator.

“Mom will get here as soon as she can,” she told Faith. “She was coming to see Amber anyway, and now she can help you with the vegetable delivery, too.”

As soon as the elevator doors closed behind her sister, Hope headed for the emergency room’s side exit, where Tanner would be waiting with the car. She was shocked as she walked down the hallway to see Big Julie Saladino lying on a gurney.

Was everybody she knew in the hospital today?

“Mr. Saladino! Is that you?”

Big Julie opened his eyes, cut and swollen with purple bruises. His shoulders were bare underneath the thin blanket that covered him, and Hope thought he probably wasn’t wearing anything at all underneath it. Why was he naked?

“What happened?” she asked.

“Fell,” he said through a cut lip. “Who’re you? Oh, wait. You’re the broad wants to play cards on Saturday. You’re lookin’ better than when we met.” He gave Hope a slow appraisal that made her blush.

“Um, yes, thank you. Baby’s been taking me shopping. I do want to play on Saturday if the game’s still on. How badly are you hurt?”

“Game’s on. This is nothin’. You should have seen me the time after—well, never mind. This ain’t nothin’, that’s all.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Can I get you anything?”

“Nah. Thanks, though. They’re gonna take me for an MRI pretty soon. It’s backed up. How do you figure that? Don’t we pay taxes? That’s what I want to know.”

“I’ll call Baby for you, how about that? Take care of yourself. I’ll see you Saturday,” Hope said, taking out her phone. She gave him a little wave as she pushed her way out of the side door.

“Baby?” she asked when she connected. “Did you know that Big Julie is in the hospital? I just ran into him at Las Vegas General.”

Baby gasped. “Really? And he didn’t call me?”

Hope paused, thinking about the naked gangster lying on the gurney. “I don’t think he has his phone with him. He’s all cut and bruised. He said he’d been in a fall.”

“Is he hurt bad?”

Hope saw Tanner drive out of the parking garage and head her way.

“He looks bad, but he says it’s nothing. I didn’t talk to a doctor.”

“I gotta get right over there! Thanks, Hope. I owe you!” Baby hung up, and Hope ran to meet Tanner waiting in the car.



A nurse came over to check on Big Julie while he waited for the MRI. They really had to find him something to wear. Having this man lying naked in the hallway, even if he was covered by a blanket, was not appropriate.

The patient seemed to be asleep, so the nurse decided not to wake him. Sleep could be the best healer, and she’d called his wife. She said she was coming over right away. Lots of times family members could perk up a patient when they needed it most.



Entering the hospital, Marilyn saw a young, vampy-looking blond running towards her. With a shock, she realized that the tramp was the same one she’d followed in the casino a few days before.

Big Julie’s slut. She was here. Marilyn felt her teeth grind together. She’d thought after that fight—well, she’d thought wrong. The slut was still here. The nerve of Big Julie. When she thought about everything she’d done for him, and this was the thanks she got. Well, she’d show him, and that cheap bottle blond, too.

Hurrying now, she went up to the receptionist and asked for Big Julie’s room.

“415C,” the receptionist said.

Turning, Marilyn saw that her rival had heard this, too. Snarling, she stormed for the elevator, the tramp in hot pursuit.



Baby realized in shock that the woman asking for Big Julie’s room must be Marilyn. After all this time, she finally was meeting the wife, if you wanted to call this “meeting.” Marilyn was just about what Baby expected—way older than herself, overweight, her hair dyed a flat reddish brown. Baby couldn’t see what Big Julie still saw in Marilyn, but obviously the big dope was afraid of her or lazy or something, because here she was and she sure wasn’t looking like she was going upstairs to ask Big Julie for a divorce.

But Baby knew what Big Julie wanted. Big Julie wanted to divorce Marilyn to be with her. And if Marilyn thought she could just kick her out of the hospital when Big Julie needed her the most, Baby would just have to show Marilyn how wrong she was.

They rode the elevator in silence to the fourth floor. When the doors opened, Baby sped down the hallway toward Big Julie’s room. Marilyn was surprisingly fit for a woman of her size and age, and Baby could hear her pounding footsteps behind her as they rushed down the corridor. And then there was the room, and Baby burst in, Marilyn right behind her.

Big Julie, bloody and broken, but unbowed, lay supine on a white hospital bed. A nurse leaned over him, gently adjusting a pillow.

“Well, isn’t this cozy,” Marilyn said from behind her.

Big Julie looked toward the doorway. “I was wondering how long it would be before youse found me,” he said.

“How are you feeling?” Baby asked, rushing in and leaning over Big Julie from the other side of the bed.

“Just fine,” Big Julie said, glancing warily at Marilyn.

“Back off, girls,” Marilyn said, coming in and dropping her handbag on one of the visitors’ chairs. “You too, honey,” she said to the nurse.

The nurse rolled her eyes and marked Big Julie’s chart.

“Enjoy your visitors,” she said with the barest hint of sarcasm. She went out, closing the door behind her.

Baby picked up Big Julie’s hand and stroked it. She’d show Marilyn.

“Julie, I been so worried,” she said. “You gotta let me take care of you.” She kept her eyes riveted to Big Julie’s face. She’d show him how much she cared. And that Marilyn, too.

“Won’t happen,” Marilyn said, sitting down on the chair.

“Big Julie, tell her.” Baby said. “About us.”

Big Julie closed his eyes.

Marilyn laughed. “You mean, how he told you he’d divorce me to marry you?”

Don’t lose it, Baby thought. Big Julie wants you.

“Honey, he won’t do that,” Marilyn said, smiling knowingly. “He’ll never divorce me. He can’t afford to.”

“Money! Is that all you can think about?” Baby asked, her voice rising.

“It isn’t about money. It’s about who he is. You think he’s the boss of Jersey, don’t you? Well, he isn’t. My father is the boss. Big Julie is the second boss.”

Big Julie groaned. “Marilyn—” he began.

“You rest now,” Marilyn said to him. “Let the girls talk. Your tootsie here should know how things stand.”

“I got a name!” Baby said. “Use it!”

“Baby, sugar—” Big Julie said.

“Quaint,” Marilyn said. “So, like I was saying, Baby-Sugar, my husband is the second boss. If he doesn’t screw up, he’ll be boss one day. What do you think his chances of promotion are if he divorces the boss’s daughter?”

“He don’t care about promotion!” Baby said firmly. “He cares about me!”

“He cares about promotion,” Marilyn said. “But even if he didn’t, let’s say he divorces the boss’s daughter, knowing the boss’s secrets. How long do you think it would be before the boss decides Big Julie’s a threat to the organization?”

Baby paled. “Julie! Is that true? You would be in danger? You?”

Big Julie shrugged.

“I know it’s hard to take in,” Marilyn said, almost kindly. “Why don’t you think it over somewhere else?”

“I don’t believe you!” Baby said, her heart sinking. “You’d say anything to make me go away! Well, I’m not leaving.” She sat down on the other visitors’ chair.

“Don’t you worry none,” she said to Big Julie. “I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

Big Julie groaned.

The door opened and a doctor walked in.

“Well, isn’t this nice!” he said, smiling at the group. “Your wife and daughter are here to visit.”

“Oh, shut up,” Marilyn and Baby said together.