Red Snow. Sean Ryan Stuart
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killers develop. However, he still had a smile on his face and Jeremy was unable to tell whether or not, he was angry or just brooding. It slowly dawned on Jeremy that perhaps Junior had more than a casual acquaintance with organized crime. That thought suddenly brought him back to reality, and he decided not to pursue the matter right now. He was happy to see Guido and right now that was all that mattered.
“Damn, CPT Grant, you are looking great!” Guido yelled.
“Man, am I glad you are okay! We heard all those horrible stories about you being KIA (Killed in Action), or MIA (Missing in Action), etc. Shortly after you disappeared, I was zapped in the head and ended up in the hospital at Fort Sam Houston, Texas. I have a huge silver plate in my head now. I am okay now, except for the occasional headaches. They were not able to get all of the shrapnel out, but the doctors tell me I should be all right,” Guido blurted out in one long sentence, his right hand slowly and unconsciously rubbing a large scar near his right eyebrow and right ear.
“Well, everything you heard was true. I was taken P.O.W., and eventually escaped three months later. I was picked up by chance by a Jolly Green Giant, and here I am today safe and almost sound!” Grant said, his voice trailing off in thought once again.
“Hey Jeremy, what has happened since you came home, what are you going to do? Do you have any plans? Want to work for me?” Guido said, switching to the more familiar Jeremy.
Jeremy explained the rest of the events of the past six months, and told him of Loretta, the Presidio and Travis AFB. Junior listened intently, then dragged Jeremy over to one of the many bars and bought him a double Chivas.
“Guido, you lied to me. You always said you worked here, but you never told me you owned the place! I really appreciate the offer, but right now I am on my way home, and I am not planning on doing anything for at least six more months. Besides, I’ve been able to save nearly all my pay for the past three years, and I have nearly forty grand stashed away,” answered Jeremy.
“Well, would you have believed me if I told you we owned four casinos? You know how G.I.’s are! They lie, steal and get drunk! Not only that, but for obvious reasons, I didn’t want everyone to know who I am. You know what I mean?” Guido said, a smile slowly spreading across his face. It was menacing smile, filled with veiled threats, yet genuine and sincere, a somber wake-up call to perhaps a hidden agenda.
“Anyway, that’s old news, what brings you here? I know you didn’t come all the way to Vegas just to see me. What’s cooking?”
“You are right Guido. I am on my way back home, and I decided to stop by Vegas and visit my cousins Douglas and Danny Lawyer, and at the same time say hello to you,” Grant exclaimed.
“No shit, that ‘shyster’ is your cousin? Well, I’ll be damned, what a coincidence. He is my attorney, and one of the best guys in Vegas. I knew there was something I liked about him. Why don’t you call him and we’ll have a party tonight. All three of us, and some friends,” Junior blurted out.
“Well, it sounds like a great idea. Let’s call him now and get started.
Law offices, can I help you? A young, sexy voice answered, her breath blowing air on the receiver, as if she had been running, or for that matter, being chased by someone.
“Is Dougie there? Grant inquired.
“Who did you want? Doggie? I am sorry, we don’t have anyone here by that name,” answered the secretary, somewhat irritated by the caller.
“No, not Doggie, Dougie C. Lawyer, my cousin.”
“I am terribly sorry, I misunderstood you, I’ll connect you to Mr. Lawyer,” the young secretary answered.
“Douglas Lawyer, can I help you?” he answered.
“Hey Dougie, it’s me, Jeremy; I’m here in town. We want you to join us at the Matador, and Guido is throwing a party tonight. By the way, call Danny and ask him if he wants to join us.”
“Hey, that sounds good to me, cousin. I don’t think Danny is going to make it, he is visiting my parents up in Redding. I didn’t know you guys knew each other. Where did you meet?” Dougie inquired.
“I am surprised he never told you, I was his CO in Vietnam, and we were very close,” answered Jeremy.
“Well, he probably never knew I had a crazy cousin named Jeremy Grant. Okay, let me finish up here in my office, and I’ll be right over. Where should I meet you guys?” asked Douglas, his voice trailing off.
“Hey Guido, where should Dougie meet us?” asked Jeremy.
“Tell him to come to the front desk and ask for me, they will show him the way up to my penthouse. Tell him be sure to ask for Junior,” replied Fontana.
“Doug, come to the front desk and ask for Junior, they will show you the way. See you soon,” answered Jeremy.
Junior grabbed Jeremy’s arm and escorted him toward a bank of private elevators, guarded by a couple of beefy goons, their bulging suits revealing strange shapes near their left armpits. Jeremy felt a little uncomfortable knowing that Guido could very well be some type of underworld gangster. However, the strong bond they had developed convinced him he should not say or do anything right now.
The elevator quickly rose to the top of the building. It silently opened to a large corridor, also guarded by more beefy goons. There was a series of large doors facing the northern and southern exposures. Junior nodded to a couple of the guards and they opened a large glass door. It led into a huge, magnificent penthouse which overlooked the fabulous Vegas Strip. Jeremy walked over to the immense windows and slowly gazed across the incredible Vegas skyline.
“Wow!” He exclaimed. “This is a magnificent view, no wonder you like to live way up here. Is it always this gorgeous?” Jeremy asked.
“Yep, you got it. We have more lights on the strip than most major American cities have in their entire infrastructure. We are really blessed to have the Hoover Dam, and its unlimited power source. Sit down and get comfortable. What will you have to drink?” Guido asked.
“Well, how about Chivas on the rocks, and perhaps some cold Miller beer for chasers?”
“Sounds good to me. Hey Frankie, take care of it. Also call the restaurant and send up Tony Pascuali. I want to order something really special for my friends. Oh, by the way, ask Rosemary to come up as well,” Guido ordered.
Frankie smiled at the mention of Rosemary. She was a grand lady, but of indeterminate age and full of vigor, probably in her early fifties, possibly in her sixties. She was tall, buxom and a splendid redhead. In many ways, she resembled the legendary forties movie star Maureen O’Hara, but was slightly plumper and taller. Frankie sometimes fantasized about what she was like in her prime. Rosemary was the hotel’s personal Madame. She watched, controlled, monitored and inspected all the showgirls who also worked the field. The hotel did not allow any overt prostitution, but instead had a covey of willing girls who were available for services for special guests. It was all very well controlled and managed by Rosemary. She could spot a street whore a mile away, and would immediately dash over like an angry mother hen and protect her chicks.
Someone knocked on the door, and Dougie was escorted in by one of the goons. Jeremy got up and walked over to Dougie.
“Hey cousin, how in the hell have you been?”
Dougie was a little shaken by Jeremy’s appearance. He had not seen his cousin in almost three years and was shocked by his rather gaunt appearance, and especially his streak of snow-white hair. Dougie walked over and embraced his cousin. Both men stood there silently for a while and slowly parted.
“Hey you, what in the hell have you been doing to yourself? Trying to emulate Twiggy? I really think you should tell your hairdresser to put less peroxide in your hair gel next time.” Dougie said, in an attempt to break the awkward silence.
“These things just happen when you are under great stress. The doctors say there isn’t much I can do about it. Anyway, I’ve been