[Veritas]

12:00 pm to 1:00 pm:

"Madame?" Crito called out as he tapped on the door of Athene's suite. "All is ready now, madame. The limosine will be here to take you to the airport soon."

"Good," said Athene from the other side of the door. "I'll be down in a few minutes. Make sure my bags are downstairs and ready to go."

"Yes, madame." said Crito.

Athene put the finishing touches of cosmetics on her face, scanning every inch of her face for telltale signs of aging or any other imperfections. Beauty such as hers required a high level of maintenance, and Athene was vigilant in that respect. "Art steps in where Nature fails," her mother had told her. She had perfected that art over the years, having spent hundreds of thousands of dollars in creams, lotions, foundations, skin tighteners, moisturizers and cosmetics to highlight her best features and conceal the worst. She had been to the finest beauticians all around the world in her quest for eternal youthful beauty. She had kept a physical fitness program that would have exhausted a Marine sergeant. Not an ounce of fatty food passed her lips; she was as slim as a supermodel, and just as firm.

And for what? she wondered. To be cast aside by that ingrate Criss Angel? To be beaten and humiliated by that old witch he called his mother? Well, that little news bulletin she had posted on Celebnooz.com would be the perfect revenge. Even if he denied it, as he surely would, it would tarnish his angelic reputation enough to satisfy her need for justice. No one treated Athene Christopolous in such a manner--no one!

There. Her makeup was perfect. Satisfied, she picked up her handbag and laptop case and left the suite, vowing never to return. when questioned by the media, she would give them a very unflattering review of the Luxor and her unfair treatment there. Bad publicity wourld do more damage than a lawsuit, with less time and money. She would move on, leave this all behind her, let Criss think about what he had missed, find a new conquest who would appreciate her more than he ever would. She was Athene Christopolous, heiress to the Omicron Empire. She would overcome!

She walked to the elevator bank and pressed DOWN. She waited and waited, drumming her fingers on her laptop case. What was keeping that thing? she thought irritably. What was taking so long? She had to get downstairs immediatly. The sooner she got out of this Godforsaken place, the better. Couldn't these elevators go any faster?

Finally, a ding, and the doors of one slid open. Athene stepped into the elevator, jabbed the button for the main floor and waited while the car quietly descended.




Criss took his leave from his mother's suite, still sorrowing over Maury's plight. He mulled over the past events and the child's future as he made his way to the elevator bank. Did her parents really steal that money? No, they couldn't have. They were greedy, granted, but they didn't have the smarts to pull off a robbery like that. The eye in the sky would have nailed them in a minute's time. The dad just found it somewhere and kept it for himself. If he had turned it in, things would have gone better for everyone, Maury included. They couldn't go to jail for keeping something someone else stole, could they?

But what if Maury's mom and dad went to jail, anyway? Criss wondered as he pushed the DOWN button. What would happen to Maury? Were there relatives she could stay with? If not, more than likely she'd end up in a foster home, living with complete strangers who would probably treat her no better than her original parents did. Criss shook his head in despair. So much grief for such a young child to bear. He could only hope for the best, comforting himself with the fact that she was with Mom right now, probably the only lucky break that poor kid ever got in her life, he thought. If only there was something he could do...

A ding from the elevator brought him back to the present. The doors of the elevator on the opposite side opened. Criss went over to the waiting car to enter, but stopped short when he saw who was already in there. Criss swallowed his bile and suppressed his rage.

"Hello, Athene," he said.

Athene gave a brief nod in reply. Criss stepped into the elevator car, keeping as much distance from her as space would allow. It was only twelve floors down, but with her on board, it would be like sinking into Hell itself. There were a lot of things he would have liked to say to her, most of them four-letter epithets, but he prudently held his tongue in such a confined space as this; he'd get his chance in the open air of the atrium.

The descent was mercifully quick; the doors slid open, and Criss shot out of the elevator like a bullet. Normally, he'd have allowed the lady to step out first, but this, he thought maliciously, was no lady. Athene, for her part, was appalled at such lack of courtesy; it was furthur proof of his vulgarity. She stepped out quickly with a disdainful air, high heels clicking on the tile floor like castanets.

Criss watched her as she brushed by him, her pert nose in the air like a pampered show dog. He could see her retinue falling all over themselves to please her, handling her mountain of luggage as if precious artifacts were packed inside. In a moment of spiteful mischief, he decided to get in one final dig.

"Did you remember to pack your panties, Athene?" he sneered.

Athene whirled around to face him, furious. Criss couldn't resist smiling smugly. "You seem to be quite careless where you leave your lingerie," he went on. "Not to mention forgetting what suite you were booked in."

Athene stormed up to him, livid with rage. "At least I was spared contracting some disease from you after your night with those filthy (bleeps) at the club!" she shot back. "To think I wasted my time trying to make your aquaintance!"

"Oh, really?" Criss retorted. "You have quite a way of 'making an aquaintance' with someone, breaking into their rooms and sleeping nude in their beds! You were lucky security let you off with a slap on the wrist--or, rather, a slap on the ass from what I saw on the video!"

Athene stared at Criss, completely flabbergasted. "Yeah, that's right," he said, gloating. "They caught the whole thing on tape--and they're still laughing about it in the security office! Just be grateful it was my mom who caught you in my bed. If it had been me who caught you, you wouldn't have been able to sit down for a week!" He thought about that last statement. "But then, you would have considered that foreplay, wouldn't you?"

"I should file assault charges against that mother of yours!" Athene snarled. "If I had my way, that old (bleep)--"

Now it was Criss' turn to snap. "Hey! You watch what you say about my mother! She's a better lady than you'll ever hope to be! As far as I'm concerned, you deserved what she gave you--in spades! You may think you're all that, but you're nothing but a (bleeping) brat who doesn't know how to act her age, whatever that is!"

Athene drew back her hand and slapped Criss smartly on the face. Criss didn't flinch, or even reel from the blow. "Was that supposed to hurt?" he asked casually. "I felt something, but I'm not sure what it was."

"Get out of my sight!" Athene commanded angrily. "I never want to see you again!"

"That's the nicest thing you ever said to me, Athene," Criss retorted. "Back at you."

Athene spun around and sailed out of the atrium to her waiting limo, her assistant, Crito, shooting Criss a dirty look as he accompanied his mistress out the main doors. Criss flashed an extended middle finger and walked away. He had to get to Production for the new episode of MindFreak.




Tracey Cullen had stepped out of the MindFreak Outlet shop where she had been browsing until it was time to call about the mail room position in the Production Office just in time to witness the altercation between Criss and Athene. She wished she had a camcorder or even a camera phone to capture every deliciously sordid detail. Instead, she had to rely on memory, and she was grateful to have such a good one. She couldn't wait to post this on the LC website.

Criss had mentioned a videotape about Athene being in his room in the nude, and Dimitra catching her and slapping her on her ass. Oh, God! That would be too awesome for words! She would have sold her soul for even a glimpse of that videotape! If she ever had the good fortune to run across it on the Internet, she'd download it in a heartbeat, and forward it to the whole Loyal Community. Who knew? Maybe someone would--or already did.




Jennifer skipped up to Ashley's desk gleefully. "Did you get the download finished yet?" she asked eagerly.

Ashley clicked on the YouTube thread she had created. The three major scenes of Athene entering, Athene tossing out Hammie, and Athene's spanking from Dimitra were condensed into thirty seconds of playtime. It was enough as far as Ashley and Jennifer were concerned.

"Beautiful!" Jennifer lauded her friend. "Now we just sit back and watch the fun!"




Still in the repair shop, Steve was itching to escape. No sooner than he finished one machine that another cropped up in its place to be fixed. The last one needed a replacement part that he didn't have in the shop and which had to be ordered by phone. He hoped that it would be at least a day, so he could put it off and make good his getaway, but as bad luck would have it, the parts warehouse specializing in slot machines happened to have it in stock and would bring it over in forty-five minutes, causing another delay for Steve. If he didn't get out of here soon, he was dead in the water, either by the cops or by Vic. He couldn't make up his mind which was worse.

There was a knock on the shop door. God, he hoped it was the parts guy! Steve walked over to the door and opened it without bothering to ask who it was. Once he saw who was standing there, he wished he had.

"Steve Packard?" said Grissom.

Steve nodded feebly, all hope of escape vanishing like a Criss Angel act. It was over, he kept repeating again and again to himself. It's over, it's all over. He felt the cold steel of police handcuffs grip his wrists behind his back. It's all over, o-v-e-r over.

"You're under arrest for major theft. You have the right to remain silent..."




Meanwhile, Gary and Irene Brighton sat together in the security "office", alone.

"So, where do you think you were going?" Irene wanted to know. "You were just going to leave me and Maury, weren't you?"

"Can it, Irene," Gary growled.

"You just couldn't share any of that money you got, didn't you?" Irene went on. "No, you had to take it all for yourself and make a break for it! Well, you're in a lot of trouble now, mister!"

"I said can it!"

Irene laughed derisivly. "You're the one who's gonna get 'canned', dipwad! How much was in that bag, huh? Enough to put you away for a very long time."

"At least I'll be away from you!" Gary shot back. "And anyway, what are you going to do about it?"

"Hey, I can claim innocent spouse relief," Irene told him. "I can say I knew nothing about the cash you found, or stole, or however you got hold of it, and I'm free and clear!"

"Like hell you are! You wanted that money almost as bad as I did! You're in Dutch, Irene. You're an accomplice."

"Prove it! It'll be your word against mine. Single mother with a little girl, no means of support, her husband a thief--I'll make out like a bandit! You, on the other hand, are screwed like a lightbulb!"

"Hah! You threw Maury out of the suite, remember? You said you never wanted to see her again! She could testify against you in court, you know!"

"She could testify against you, too, Gary. I could plead temporary insanity because of prescription pills, you know."

"They won't buy it."

"Like they won't buy that excuse you gave them about the money, that you got the 'wrong' bag by 'mistake'? I saw you, Gary. You stuffed that bag in the kitchen cabinet to hide it. Then you took the money and ran like the coward you are. Well, you're not going to get away with it, Gary Brighton! I'm gonna make sure you get what you deserve!"

"Yeah?" Gary countered. "Well, I'm gonna make sure you get yours, Irene. Child neglect and abandonment, that's gonna cost you plenty, sweetheart! They could send you to rehab for your little 'drug problem' as well."

"I don't have a drug problem!"

"Oh, yes you do, sweetheart! You were willing to plead insanity caused by prescription pills. You admitted it yourself, remember? Tossing out your own kid like that while you were on drugs? They'll nail your skinny ass good for that! And once they see that little pharmacy you carry around in your purse...well, say hello to Betty Ford!"

"That's minor compared to stealing almost a million dollars cash!"

"I didn't steal it, I just found it, that's all."

"Found it and kept it for yourself? That's theft!"

"Oh, aren't you such a Girl Scout! If it had been you who got hold of that bag, you'd have blown the whole bundle!"

"It's a wonder you didn't blow the whole bundle yourself in the casino!"

"No, I had better plans."

"Like what? Running off God knows where and sticking me with the kid and the hotel bill? You're a louse, Gary. You always have been and always will be. Always thinking about yourself, not giving a damn about me or the kid."

"Like you give a damn about the kid yourself."

"(Bleep) you, Gary."

The door opened. Macaffey and two other officers entered the room. Gary and Irene stood up.

"Okay, folks," Macaffey said. "We're gonna take a little trip downtown. Both of you are charged with second degree theft."

"Hey, wait a minute!" Gary protested. "You have no proof!"

"Oh, yes we do," Macaffey retorted.

He pointed at a small videocamera bracketed on the ceiling. "Smile! You're on Candid Camera!" he sang out. "We got the whole thing on tape! Didn't have to grill you at all. So, you might as well come quietly. We have new accomodations for you in the county lockup!"




The phone rang in Dimitra's suite.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mom, it's Lynn. We're downstairs in the lobby!"

"Oh, hello, Lynn! Yes, I'll be right down! Good-bye!"

Dimitra hung up the phone. She had all but forgotten about Lynn and Little Dimitra coming over today, what with the business of Maury and all. Well, she'd just have to make the best of it.

"Come along, darling," she said to Maury, who had been sitting on the floor watching SpongeBob SquarePants on television. "We have to go downstairs and meet someone."

Maury looked up. "Who?"

"My granddaughter and her mother. Now, let's not keep them waiting."

Maury rose and went downstairs to the lobby with Dimitra. Once there, she saw a lovely blond woman and a dark-haired girl a head taller than she was standing there waiting for them. Mother-in-law and daughter-in-law embraced warmly, then the dark-haried girl hugged her grandmother. Maury started to feel forgotten again. Her own grandmother was nowhere near as nice as Mrs. Angel. She never hugged her Grandma Potter--she hated hugs and she always stank like cigarrettes.

"Lynn, Dima," Dimitra said, drawing Maury close to her. "This is Maury Brighton. She's staying with me for a while because her parents are...well, they got into a bit of trouble."

"Hello, Maury," Lynn said, smiling. "Nice to meet you."

"Hi," Maury choked out. She couldn't get over how beautiful Lynn looked. She looked like an angel in the lonely little girl's eyes, with her blue eyes, blond hair, and beautiful face with its radiant smile. She was almost a princess--an angel princess, she thought.

"And this is my granddaughter, Dima." Dimitra said.

Dima. What a pretty name, Maury thought. Dima had to be the luckiest girl in the world to have an angel princess for a mother and Mrs. Angel for a grandmother. Would there be any room for a nobody like herself with this enchanted family?

"Well, how about some lunch?" Dimitra suggested. "You must all be starved by now."

"Okay, but someplace simple," Lynn suggested. "Nothing fancy."

"Fine. We can go to the deli and have a sandwich."

All agreed. As they made their way to the deli, Dima turned to her mother. "That little girl is awfully skinny," she commented in a semi-whisper. "And her dress looks kinda old."

Lynn held up a silencing hand. "Hush, dear. Let's not be rude. She's a guest with Grandma, so let's be nice to her."

"I'm not being rude," Dima countered. "I just noticed, that's all. I think her mom and dad don't care for her."

"Well, let's just keep a lid on it for now," her mother whispered. "We don't want to pry into anything that's none of our business."

[RACHEL02189]

I wonder what's going to happen to her now that mom and dad are going up the river so to speak

[Veritas]

1:00 pm to 2:00 pm:

"So I took Maury back to her parents' room the next morning," Dimitra explained to Lynn over lunch in the deli, "and I knocked on the door, and this...woman came out, shrieking at the poor child, saying she didn't want to see her again and all that. It was terrible! I had no choice but to take her in."

"You did the right thing, Mom," Lynn said. "Maybe by now her mother'll be more clear-headed and she can go back."

"I don't know about that," Dimitra said doubtfully. "It seems her parents are tied up in some sort of theft. They could go to jail, and then what will happen to Maury, here?"

"Well, she'll probably be sent to a home somewhere."

A "home"? What sort of "home" would she go to? Dimitra wondered. She looked at Maury's frail form, the bony limbs, the large, sad eyes, the faded dress she was beginning to outgrow--hadn't this poor child suffered enough in her young life already? How could God forsake an innocent child such as she? It was fortunate that her suite and the Brighton's were next to each other, or else Lord knew what would have happened to her.

That particular train of thought led to a more significant destination in Dimitra's mind: their suites were right next to each other, she found Maury in the atrium last night, and then saw her in the hallway, her mother had thrust Maury into her hands, and now they were in police custody, and Christopher had found her by the elevators trying to find her father in the casino so she could get something to eat. It all made sense! It had not been a coincidence Dimitra had found Maury twice in the same night, but the hand of Providence had been at work. God in His Infinite Wisdom had given this neglected child to her, Dimitra, to raise as her own. She could not doubt it as she gazed into those large eyes, filled with a lifetime of suffering and neglect. She would see to it that the "home" Maury would live in would be her own.






Ashley's YouTube thread had barely merged onto the Information Highway than it was siezed upon by eager Loyals. One such Loyal was Lolly Jones, bass player for Filibuster. She was perusing the YouTube site to critique her band's music video when she came across MAMA ANGEL SPANKS ATHENE! Oh, this she had to see! She clicked it on and read the premise:

Athene Christopolous broke into Criss Angel's suite one night, threw Hammie out, and was caught by Mama Angel herself. Dimitra spanked her ass good! Payback for the lies on Celebnooz.com. This is the acutal security tape.

Lolly clicked on the sight and watched all twenty seconds of Athene Christopolous's humiliation at the hands of Mama Angel. Then she clicked on it again. And again. And again. She couldn't get enough of it! But why keep it to herself? A quick log-in to her account on the LC website, a few fill-ins, and it was off and running. She couldn't wait to see the reactions her fellow Loyals would have when they saw this.




Meanwhile, it the Production office, Tracey Cullen waited nervously while Ashley went over her makeshift application. She had to get this job, she thought anxiously. She just had to!

Ashley looked up. "Can you be here at eight tomorrow morning?" she asked.

Tracey's heart leapt. "Yes!" she all but shrieked.

"Okay, we're gonna try you out in the mailroom," Ashley told her. "Since you're under eighteen, you can only work twenty hours at most. I would advise you to get your high school diploma as soon as you can. You're not going to make it without it."

"Oh, I promise! I'll be here! Don't worry, I'll work really hard for Criss!" Tracey skipped out of the office, her heart soaring on angel's wings. I got the job! she said to herself. I got the job! I got the job! Maybe God rewarded my good deed this way when I found that person's suitcase for them, she thought.




JD entered the deli, partly to see his wife and daughter, partly to tell his mother that security wanted to see her concerning Maury. Dima was the first to see her father. "Dad!" she called out, "over here!"

JD waved back and approached their table. "Hi, hon," he said to his wife, kissing her. Then he turned to his mother. "Macaffey wants to see you and--Maury, is it? He wants to see both of you in his office."

Lynn looked at her husband. "Is it serious?" she asked.

"With Big Luke, it's always serious," JD replied. "Maury's mom and dad were busted for theft. He wants both of you in his office."

"In the middle of lunch?" Dimitra said, a bit annoyed.

"In the middle of right now, Ma," JD told her. "Macaffey's not a man who likes to be kept waiting. This was a guy who worked fifteen years in a supermax prison as a guard; he barks, you jump." (1)

The two women and the girls got up from their table and followed JD to the security office. Dimitra was still miffed about the interruption of an otherwise pleasant afternoon. Chief of security or not, he could have waited until later.

(1) (See "The Cave of Sorrow" LC Written Arts section)




"Hey, Cos?"

"Yeah?"

"You seen JD anywhere?"

"He got called to the security office for some reason. I think it has to do with Mom and that kid she found."

Criss was taken aback. What was the deal? he wondered. Better go check it out. He left the Production office and headed for security. There, in the hallway, he came across JD, his little family, mother Dimitra and little Maury. "Hey, guys, 'sup?" he asked.

"Ask Macaffey," JD retorted. "He's the one calling this meeting."

They all went in the office. Macaffey stood there like a rock, arms folded across his barrel chest, waiting.

"Okay, Big Luke," JD said, "we're all here. What's the deal?"

"The deal is that Gary and Irene Brighton were charged with possession of stolen property: half a million dollars of hotel cash which had been stolen by a slot machine repairman named Steve Packard," Macaffey explained. "The charges of theft itself was dropped when Packard was identified on tape. If they had returned it, they wouldn't be in this mess. But they wanted to keep it for themselves, and now they're facing jail time. But that's not why I called you here."

Macaffey strolled over to his desk and sat down. "We have to make arrangements to take Maureen here to a foster home, since her folks are going to be in the county lockup until bail's posted." He turned to Criss. "It was nice of your mother here to care for her, but--"

"NO!" Dimitra shouted angrily, clutching Maury to her side.

Everyone looked at her in surprise, the security staff included. Dimitra had almost never raised her voice like that, at least not as far as they could remember. Why was she so defensive all of a sudden?

"I won't have this child taken away from me!" she insisted. "God gave me this little girl to care for, and I'm going to! It was no accident that I found her in the atrium--it was God's will! This all happened for a reason. Maury will stay with me!"

"Mom," Criss murmured hesitantly. "I...I never knew you cared..."

"I do." she said firmly.

"Uh, ma'am," Macaffey spoke with uncharacteristic calmness, "you know, the law don't allow single people to be foster parents, and I know for a fact that you're widowed, I'm sorry to say, so, uh, Social Services gotta find a couple for her to live with."

Criss couldn't help but notice the crushed look on his mother's face, and it stabbed him in the heart. She firmly believed that God had given Maury to her to care for, and now the law said she couldn't because Dad was dead. Couldn't they make one exception in this case? The stony expression on Macaffey's face told him no. The law was the law in Big Luke's eyes, and no amount of sentiment would change that.

Lynn turned to JD. "Hon, do you think we could...you know..."

"What?" JD shrugged.

"We could take in Maury ourselves," she suggested. "Your mother told me all about her in the deli, and she really loves her."

"Take in a strange kid into our home?" JD wondered, unsure.

Take in a total stranger just like that? We can't just take in a child like a stray puppy! It wouldn't work out. And what about Dima? She's too used to being an only child. Would there be any conflict between them? Probably. And yet, he pondered inwardly, Mom did really care for the poor kid, and Maury would get lost in the system if she was sent to a foster home. God knew who would take her in, and how she would be treated. Well, if Lynn was willing...

JD turned to his daughter. "Dima, honey, your mother wants to take in Maury here for a foster child. Are you willing to go along wth it? It'll mean giving up some privacy, but it'll only be for a while."

Dima looked up to her father. " If Mom and Grandma want her, then it's okay with me. I don't mind."

JD smiled. "Good. Then it's settled. Macaffey!" he said aloud to the chief at his desk. "You can call Social Services and tell them my family's willing to take in Maury ourselves. It'll save them time and paperwork."

Dimitra embraced her eldest son. "Oh, thank you, JD, darling! May God bless you!" She turned to Macaffey. "Maury can stay with me for the rest of the day until you get everything worked out. You can call me in my suite if you need me."

Macaffey shrugged. "Fine with me," he said. At least he'd be spared a visit with Social Services. It was out of his hands. "You work it out with the SS office. I got work to do."

As the Sarantakos family left with their newest member, Criss turned to his mother. "You got her clothes with you?" he asked.

Dimitra thought for a moment, trying to remember. "I think that's all she has, what she has on already."

Geez! Criss thought, appalled. Not only don't they feed their kid, they don't even get her any clothes! They should tack on child neglect on top of all the other charges against them! He pulled out his wallet and withdrew several large denominations. "Here, go buy her some new clothes, willya? She looks like a rag doll." he told his mother.

Dimitra's eyes widened at the sight of so much money. Back in the day, she could have clothed her sons with a small fraction of what Christopher had given her. Children's clothes couldn't be that expensive, could they? she wondered.

Criss felt two skinny arms wrap themselves around his hips. He stooped to pick up Maury in his strong, muscular arms. The sad little face he had seen by the elevators the previous day was now smiling at him.

"You know, I wanted you to be my daddy," Maury confessed. "and Mrs. Angel to be my grandma."

"Me?" Criss was flustered. As much as he loved children, fatherhood was a step he never bothered to contemplate, or was afraid to. "Well, I can't be your daddy, but I can be your foster uncle."

"So, can I call you Uncle Criss?"

Criss smiled brightly. "Sure, you can!"

Maury hugged her Uncle Criss' neck. "I love you, Uncle Criss."

Criss felt a lump rising in his throat. "I love you more, Maury."




The steel doors of the county lockup rumbled open. Two guards escorted two of the latest arrivals to their cells, their footsteps echoing loudly as they trod slowly down the long cinderblock corridor. Steve Packard, arrested for grand larceny and breaking and entering, and Gary Brighton, charged with possession of stolen property. His wife, Irene, had been taken to the women's cell block in the other wing on the same charge. Neither had given any thought as to the fate of their daughter, Maury. At least he didn't have to put up with her nagging anymore, Gary told himself, trying to cheer himself up.

The two prisoners were unshackled and pushed into their cell. The heavy door boomed shut behind them. Gary sat on the bottom bunk, Steve swung his legs up to the top. There was an awkward silence. Neither felt like making conversation at that moment.

I wonder if they got Vic, Steve thought to himself. I know he didn't get the money, but he'd be held as an accomplice. It was his idea originally to rob the safe in the first place. Now he's free and I'm rotting in jail. This blows!

If I hadn't overslept like that, Gary said to himself, I'd be free as a bird! They had that room bugged all the time we were in there and they heard everything! How the hell was I to know that money belonged to the hotel? If I had all that money, my problems would have been solved. This blows like beans for lunch!

Steve turned on his stomach. I still don't know what happened to that bag of cash. Did the guy whose luggage was on the rack return it to the hotel? Or did the bellhop take it for himself? Guess I'll never know.

Gary lay down on his bunk. Okay, the hotel got its money back. You'd think they'd let me off already. Geez! They should thank me for finding it for them. Bust the son of a (bleep) who actually stole it and let me out! I'm innocent already!

How did they find out it was me, anyway? Steve wondered. I kept within the blind spots. Where did I slip up? I blew it!

How did they find out I had that bag, anyway? Gary asked himself. I hid it behind the plant. Who found it there? I blew it!



Felix Rappaport awakened to the sound of his cell phone deedling away. It had taken all his powers of diplomacy, honed from years of working in the hospitality business, to get it from the nurses who had insisted he just take it easy and rest.

"Hello?" he answered groggily.

"Hey, boss!" It was Macaffey, sounding unusually upbeat. "Heard you were under the weather. How'd the ulcer surgery go?"

Word gets around fast, Felix thought. "I'm okay," he rasped.

"Well, here's something that'll make you feel better," Macaffey crowed. "We got the money stolen from the safe back and the guy who stole it! Turned out to be the slot machine repair guy, Packard."

Felix managed a smile. "That's great, Macaffey. You're the best. Keep up the good work."

"Don't you worry about a thing, Mr. R.," Macaffey assured him. "Everything's under control. I took the liberty of upgrading the video surveillance around the Accounting Office. We need to open up a few blind spots; we got total visual now."

"Good, Luke. Good job."

"Now you take it easy and get some rest, Mr. R. God's in His Heaven, all's right with the world! Get well soon--all the guys here are pulling for you."

"Thanks, Luke. 'Bye."

Big Luke Macaffey hung up the phone. He drew a big, satisfying, relieved sigh, the kind of sigh that followed a tough job well done. It was good to have the pressure off, at least for a while. Fifteen years at a supermax prison had taught him not to be complacent. Even in his semi-retirement career as chief of security at the Luxor Hotel, there were problems. Hell, after last night, it was a wonder he didn't have an ulcer!

[RACHEL02189]

I had a feeling she was going to end up with JD and his wife

[Veritas]

2:00 pm to 3:00 pm:

"Hello?" Felix groggily answered on his cell phone.

"Hey, Felix," Criss' voice came from the other end. "How ya doin'?"

"Hey, Criss, I'm okay. The docs say I'll be out in a week. How's everything in the hotel?"

"Fine. That money that got stolen last night's safe in the bank, and the guy who robbed you is in jail. Typical Hollywood B-movie ending."

Felix smiled a little; he was still too weak to laugh. "How's the show coming along?"

"Show's great, coming along fine. Look, don't worry about a thing, okay? Just get better soon. We're all praying for you."

"Thanks, Criss. See you in a week."

"Later. 'Bye."




Macaffey watched as the electricians reattached the overhead cameras to the ceiling of the Accounting Office. It had been so simple, no major expense required (which pleased the beancounters among the Board of Directors), just some refocusing and magnifying around the blind spots. The door leading to the safe was now on visual, and the combination lock was upgraded with a thumbprint digital scanner programmed to read the prints of only those with approved access to the safe. Master keycards would no longer allow access to the office or the safe. Only those who worked directly with cash, such as accountants and cashiers would be permitted, and even they were subject to the greatest scrutiny.

Macaffey called the surveillance room. "How's visual on Twenty-Seven?"

"Good," came the answer. "Better than ever. You're coming in clear. If you could move to the corridor on the right, we can check for any blind spots."

"Roger that."

Macaffey stepped to the right corridor, one of the blind spots the camera crew uncovered during the investigation. "Okay, how's that?"

"We got you on visual, no problem. Looking good."

"Roger that." Yeah, they were looking good now. Still, he wished it had been better in the first place. Why hadn't these blind spots been discovered before? If they had been covered as they should have been, Packard would have been busted within five minutes instead of a couple of hours ago. It was inexcusable that a lousy repairman could just walk in like that and help himself to half a million dollars of hotel money--especially on his watch.

Macaffey made his way out of the Accounting Office and to his own. Well, it wouldn't happen again, that was for sure. Fifteen years of guarding gangsters and murderers in one of the nation's supermax prisons taught him that no matter how digilant you were, someone would find a way to beat the system. Mechanical errors were easy: find it, fix it, forget it. But no matter how technologically sophisticated your surveillance equipment was, human error would always worm its way through. It took only a split-second to miss something on the monitor only to be discovered later with the hindsight of videotape. A guard couldn't look in front and in back of him at the same time; he could be dealing with one crisis while an even bigger one was taking place. His men were tough, disciplined and well-trained, but they were still human, and criminals knew that. They could be distracted, they could be conned, they could be overtaken with weapons, they could even be offered bribes, but they could overcome all that and more with the help from the eye in the sky. His men weren't perfect, but they were the best he had.

Macaffey sighed. Well, live and learn, he thought. It was like his what his Dad told him years ago: If you're not making mistakes, you aren't doing anything. It was good advice, God rest the old man's soul. From the small errors he made, he became a better guard, both in the prison and here in the hotel. Still, he wished he had had some of the high-tech surveillance they had now in the hotel installed in the prison when he first worked there fifteen years ago. It would have made his job a lot easier. Oh, well. Life goes on.




Ah, well, Athene Christopolous thought to herself as she boarded her plane for LA, life goes on. It was Criss Angel's loss, not hers. There were plenty of young men who would love to be seen with her. So many up-and-coming young actors with muscular young bodies and devilishly good looks to choose from. What was one vulgar, uncouth magician compared to them? Chalk it up as a mistake and get on with life. He wasn't worth losing sleep over.

High in the sky over Nevada, Athene took out her laptop and logged in. She wanted to see how her little smear campaign against Criss was coming along. In the op-ed page of Celebnooz.com, there were no responses. Well, it was early yet; she had only posted last night. All in good time, she thought.

As she scrolled down the page, her name caught her eye alongside a YouTube thread: MAMA ANGEL SPANKS ATHENE! Shocked, she clicked on the site. There, on the Internet for all the world to see, was the security tape from her break-in and her humiliation from Criss' mother. Athene watched in horror as her naked body was shown in black and white, uncensored and unedited, her bare behind getting slapped sharply by that old witch, Criss's mother, Dimitra.

Athena screamed all the way to LA.




Lyn Sheppard and her friend, Stacy, were on their afternoon break from rehersal. Lyn sipped her third cup of coffee of the day while Stacy stuck to bottled water as they lounged on the ratty sofa in the green room.

"Still thinking of last night?" Lyn asked Stacy.

Stacy nodded dreamily. "Mm-hmm. God, I wish we could do that again. With Criss, I mean."

"Hey, you don't want to be mixing business with pleasure, do you?"

"With Criss Angel, what's the difference?"

Both women laughed. They were still giggling like schoolgirls even when they were called back to rehersal, to the bemusement of the rest of the cast.




It was the Filbuster's first rehersal with Rick Martin, their new drummer. To Lolly and Pierce's surprise and delight, Rick was not only a talented drummer, but a quick study--he had the drum parts down after a single reading! Not only that, he had a few original songs he had written himself that were sheer masterpieces. Between the three of them, they had enough material for a new CD. This guy istoo good to be true, Lolly thought.

Yeah, she reflected somberly. Too good. Even without Filibuster's high turnover rate with drummers, it was a distinct possibility that a guy this talented could go solo and be successful in his own right. Was Rick using them as a stepping stone to his own fame and fortune?

Lolly shook her head. No, it couldn't be true. Rick had been a waiter before this--he wanted to be in a band so bad and the opportunity came up when Jason became suddenly unavailable, so he took advantage of it. It was a lucky break for both Filibuster and for Rick Martin. Maybe it was fate, or good karma, or divine intervention that Rick came into the band when he did. Why question good fortune?

"Okay!" Rick called out, holding his sticks aloft. "One, two, three, four!"

The band crashed into their number, perfectly timed, perfectly performed. No doubt about it, Lolly thought as she thumped on her bass guitar, they clicked!




"MindFreak Productions, may I help you?"

"Hi, this is the manager from Body English. Could you send Criss over to pick up his car sometime? He left it here last night."

"He left his car there? How did he get home?"

"Someone drove him home because he thought he was too drunk to drive. We've been keeping an eye on it since. This thing's too expensive to keep here, so could you either call a wrecker or have him come over and pick it up?"

"I'll give him the message."

"Thank you. Good-bye."




"So, what are you in for?" Gary Brighton asked his cellmate.

"Grand larceny and bee-and-ee." Steve replied drily. "You?"

"Possession of stolen property. I...found this bag of money, see..."

Steve shot bolt upright. "Bag of money?" he echoed. "Where? How much?"

"Well, it fell off a baggage rack in the elevator, and I took it back to my hotel room. I dunno how much was in it, but it was a helluva bundle. Close to a million, I'd say."

"What'd you do with it?"

"I...misplaced it somewhere, and security pinned it on me 'cause it was next to my suitcase."

"You mean you were trying to take the money and run, you mean."

"Hey, I found it and now the hotel's got it back, okay? So, just drop it! I got pinned for it, and now I'm going to jail for it while the (bleeper) who really stole it is still on the lam!"

Steve could not help but smile. "You want in on a little secret?"

"Like what?" Gary grumbled irritably.

"I'm the (bleeper) who stole it."

Gary rose out of his bunk and faced Steve, astonished and outraged. "You?!"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, me."

"You son of a (bleep)!" Gary exploded. "You set me up! You framed me, you (bleeper)!"

"No, no, no, I didn't set anyone up," Steve protested. "I just set it on the cart because security was crawling around, then it disappeared. I didn't even know you until now. You set yourself up when you found that money and kept it for yourself. What were you going to do with it, huh? Run off to Mexico or something?"

"I oughta kick your sorry ass, you (bleeper)! Because of you, I'm getting sent up the river, along with my wife!"

"Ohhhhhh!" Steve purred. "Wifey's involved too, huh?"

Gary wanted to strangle his cellmate, but realized it would be futile. No matterh what he did, it wouldn't change things. "Ah, can it!" he snarled.

He slumped down onto his bunk again. "If she had gotten her hooks into that dough, she'd have blown the whole bundle in a day. Then where'd I be? Stuck in the same dead-end job with a (bleep) of a wife and a snot-nosed kid, that's what!"

"She get busted, too?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, she got busted, too. Cops heard and recorded everything we said while we were in custody, so she can't file for innocent spouse relief. She's going up, just like me."

"What about your kid?"

"Ah, I couldn't tell you," Gary shook his head. "She'll be fine, I guess."




She was fine, indeed. In fact, Maury Brighton couldn't be better off. The Clark County Social Services office, Child Neglect division, were all too happy to grant JD and Lynn temporary custody of her "until furthur notice" as they put it. It spared them the tedious wading through lists of potential homes and endless contacts and screenings of families. Criss gave JD the rest of the afternoon off for him and Lynn to fill out the paperwork and arrange the amount of the monthly foster care stipends. Not that the Sarantakos actually needed it, of course. JD's income working for Criss was more than sufficent to raise another child, and Criss himself volunteered his support to help Maury. The poor child had nothing, not even a decent dress to wear, and no niece of Criss Angel's, foster or otherwise, was going to go about in rags starving to death.

While JD and Lynn negotiated the terms of Maury's foster care, Dimitra took her new foster granddaughter out shopping for a much needed new wardrobe. Dima accompanied them, pointing out what was hot and what was not when it came to fashion: The punk-rock look was out, she said, but glam-rock was very in, especially pink. California surfer colors were really hot, especially Crocs shoes. L. L. Bean was good, but kinda pricy, as was Abercrombie and Fitch. Gap Kids was so out! she said, so stay away from there. Her grandmother, however, completely ignored her, choosing to stick with the basics. It was good enough for her sons when they were growing up, it was good enough for Maury. Indeed, it was better than whatever came Maury's way, and that was little enough as it was. The clothing allowance Criss had given her was generous enough, but Dimitra still kept an eye out for bargains. Old habits died hard, especially when it came to spending money.

Maury was overwhelmed by the huge selection of clothes in the store where Dimitra had taken her. She honestly didn't know where to start. Dimitra held up some nice summer dresses in front of Maury's skinny body to see how they would look on her. She was lucky enough to find some cooler weather clothes on the clearance rack that would fit her as well. Then it was on to the shoe department. Dima found some Skechers sneakers for her, while Dimitra had her try on a pair of black Mary Janes, "for church", as she explained. Maury didn't argue with any of the choices made for her; it was the first time she had anything new to call her own. It was a thrill just to be there in the store, let alone have anyone buy anything for her.

Outerwear was next, as desert nights could be so cold. Maury skipped along with her new grandmother and foster sister, happy as a lark. Her misery was past; she had a new family now, and not just any family, either. Though she had wished for Criss Angel to be her daddy, he became the next best thing instead: her uncle. And Mrs. Angel was her grandmother, just as she had wished. Now she was getting new clothes and everything. For the first time in her short life, Maury Brighton had a reason to smile, and it felt good.

And how was your day?

[RACHEL02189]

That's interesting a grandmother like Dimitra that knows what's in and what's out. That's a cute story Veritas Thumbs up

[Veritas]

Thank you.

[ckqtid01]

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Comme des Garcons Beatles collaboration
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