In The Company of Deceit

Chapter 9 - How The Dice Roll

Virginia Stahl closed her laptop and started to sob. With all the elements working against her in the industry she had to be involved in a bus crash, and now she couldn't get to where she needed to be to hold things together. The designers wanted no part of her excuses over accommodations, and advertising and the suppliers were still dragging their feet over contract disputes.

She was at a loss. At a loss and alone. She leaned down and examined her leg, brushing at the scrape there, and then at the small cut on her chin. There was no way she could pull the show together without the help of the suppliers and the designers, and they weren't even talking; this was going to be her biggest event yet, a reputation maker. It would be a reputation maker all right, she thought ruefully. Then she still had to get her car back.

There was a knock at her room door and she peered through the security hole to see a policeman staring back.

"Yes?" She opened the door just enough to speak politely.

"We're asking all the passengers if they have any idea where Mister Edwin Del Darrigo might have gone."

"He was the man with the briefcase?" Virginia pulled a face. "I have no idea. I never saw him after the accident."

"We are also checking passports if you wouldn't mind showing me yours."

"Why would you need to do that?"

"Two of the passengers were illegal and as such a check of everyone has been ordered."

"Oh, okay." She left the door open and got her purse then dug out her passport and handed it to the policeman.

"Mind if I ask why someone with this many different country stamps is riding an interstate bus that really should have been retired?"

Virginia told him about her car and her rush to get to a big city. The Salt Lake bus came first and the garage that had her car hailed it for her and she paid cash to the driver for her ticket. The policeman thumbed the passport, rereading the statistic page and giving her a sly look.

"You have the name of the station where your car is?" Her lips thinned and she went back to her purse, handing him the receipt for the car and her driver's licence. "Okay then, thank you, Miss." He handed it back and saluted pleasantly. "You have a good night."

She closed and locked the door and leaned against it for a moment. "I wonder where he did go." She asked the empty room. "Probably he was an illegal as well."

******

Belinda had regained her composure in what could have been considered record time and she stood as the doctor pushed through the operating room doors and stripped off his mask. The police had picked her up at the hotel and driven her to the hospital, advising her that they would need to interview her as soon as possible.

The surgeon balled up the mask along with his gloves and tossed them into a sanitizer as he headed toward the waiting room. She moved a few steps toward him, her senses picking up the astringent smell of cleanser and the gagging odour of sickness and medicine clinging to the ancient wall tiles.

"Mrs. Ashbury-Stark?" The doctor stopped in front of her.

"Yes- my daughter...?" Imperious.

"She received a very nasty blow on the head. She has a concussion and is unconscious, connected to our monitoring equipment and showing all her vital signs, but she is not responding to any stimulus." He scrubbed his chin with slender fingers. "She uh- she also has a pretty advanced cancer of the liver, which is not going to help our procedures for her other problems."

"The liver? I understood it was brain..." Belinda frowned.

"It began there." He looked hopelessly uncomfortable. "It's not uncommon to find the cancer cells migrating to other sensitive areas or organs."

"Will she be alright?"

He stared away into the long hallway. They always ask the same question, whether you tell them they have a toothache or they died. "A lot will depend on whether she comes out of her unconscious state."

"Can I see her?"

"There really is nothing to see, Mrs. Ashb─"

"I must see her!"

He sighed and nodded. "You can look through the observation window but I can't permit you in the room. If you'll follow me."

He led the way back through the OR doors and positioned Belinda in front of a window overlooking Muriel, barely visible among the bandages, tubes and other instruments. She stared at the figure in the bed and then turned to the doctor.

"What are her chances?"

"I would have to speak to our specialists before rendering any decision, but from a surgical standpoint, the cancer aside, her condition is considered critical."

She stared through the glass and wondered what life might be like without her sick daughter to worry about... particularly now. Their adventure in Vegas had been borne of the need for survival, now it was becoming a moot point and Belinda began thinking along new, different lines.

With Muriel out of the picture, the money would go a long way in mending whatever grief she might endure and afford her a new start in an arena she had long coveted. It might also be prudent to approach Edwin, if he shows up; combined, their money would make a considerable sum.

Since the first shock of being pregnant through the difficult birth to the devastation of being abandoned by a husband who lost interest when she wasn't able to keep up with his social needs, Belinda had vowed that one day she would get what she felt she deserved. Maybe this was the day.

She thanked the doctor and then rejoined the young patrolman who had accompanied her. She was required to give a statement before being released to the hotel for the night.

******

Carlos Hateris didn't fare as well. Firstly, he had to give a formal identification of his companion who was killed in the accident. Next he had to validate his own identification, which he couldn't do and was immediately slapped in a holding cell while a call was made to the INS. Carlos saw his hopes and the anticipated future with his friend swirl away like smoke in the wind.