At that moment, Terry and Lola were walking briskly together down one of the hotel corridors. Terry halted and Lola nearly stumbled over her.
"What the h-- ?" Lola began.
"Oh, please!" Terry muttered. "Not here! Not now!"
Lola followed Terry's stunned gaze down the corridor ahead. The McCaskill family's imperious matriarch was marching toward them. Mother McCaskill was overdressed and purposeful, as always, looking like Eleanor Roosevelt at an embassy luncheon, from tasteful pumps to regal hat. The older woman zeroed in like a dive bomber on the two younger women.
"Teresa! Whatever are you doing here?"
Terry leaped into action, grabbing Mother M in a tight hug, which Mother M suffered with great dignity, but in which she did not truly participate.
"Aunt Mary!" Terry crowed.
"I beg your pardon, missy!"
Terry backed off to hold the older lady at arms length, grasping her by the shoulders. She sent Mother M an insistent look. "I said, Aunt Mary. This is such a surprise. Do Mother and Daddy know you're here?"
Mother M looked pointedly skyward as if to ask the heavens why she had been saddled with such a difficult child. "If by 'Mother and Daddy' you are referring to my late, lamented forebears, the answer to whether they are aware of my activities here on earth rather depends on one's view of the afterlife." With the polite dignity of the well-bred, Mother M looked to Lola and extended a hand. "How do you do? I'm Mary Margaret McCaskill."
"My Aunt Mary," Terry added.
"I believe we've established that, Teresa. Give me a little credit," her mother said.
"Pleased ta meetcha. I'm Lola," the working girl said, shaking Mother M's proffered hand while Terry fidgeted.
Mother M asked Lola, "So, are you also ...," she dropped to a whisper, "...working under cover?"
"Oh geez," murmured Terry.
"From time to time," Lola answered brightly.
Terry inserted, "Aunt Mary, what in heaven's name are you doing here?"
"Perhaps you have forgotten, my dear niece. My canasta club takes a field trip once a month, either to the casino here, or the Seminole Hard Rock casino in Broward County, or the Miccosukee casino on Tamiami Trail." She turned again to Lola. "Do you work with Teresa, dear?"
"No, ma'am," said Lola ingenuously. "Right now, I'm working here at the hotel. I'm a ho--"
"Hostess!" blurted Terry. "Lola's a hotel hostess. She, ah, ... greets ... unaccompanied male guests."
"Warmly," Lola added.
"Oh, yes," Mother M said with absolute calm. "That's what we used to call a prosti—"
"Aunt Mary!" Terry said, then turned to ask Lola, "Can you give us five minutes? We need to talk privately. Family stuff."
Providentially, a bored-looking male guest stepped into the corridor from the dining room at exactly that second. Lola's face lit up as she evaluated his potential. She locked eyes with him.
"Take ten," she told Terry, without breaking eye contact with her prey. "I might as well make a buck while y'all catch up."
Terry suppressed a shudder and said, "Fine. I'll meet you back here. Aunt Mary, would you come with me, please?"
Terry took her mother's elbow and steered her into the nearest elevator. The doors closed and the elevator began moving before Mother M said, "Teresa Cecilia Beatrice Mc—"
A sudden fit of violent, loud coughing from Terry obliterated whatever Mother M intended to say. She slapped Terry soundly on the back, nearly knocking her to the floor. Terry flashed her a squelching look.
"I'm not surprised you've caught cold, dressed like that. Young lady, there can scarcely be room for appropriate undergarments beneath a dress like that."
"We'll discuss it in a minute, okay?"
The elevator stopped, doors opened, and Terry gently towed her mother toward Terry's hotel room.
Within minutes the two women sat on toilet and tub-rim in Terry "Dupree"'s hotel bathroom, while a loud, steamy shower rained torrentially in the background. Terry leaned forward and, speaking head-to-head, explained the situation to her mother.
When she finished her explanation, Terry sat upright and flexed her shoulders, saying, "So, that's where we stand right now. You've got to get out of here before you get yourself busted -- or get me and my team killed. And I don't even want to know how your canasta club knows there's a casino here, when a team of police investigators can't find hide nor hair of it."
Mother M remained absolutely still, with more dignity than is usually possible when seated on a porcelain throne. She studied Terry's face.
Terry waited, and when her mother did not respond, Terry asked, "Aren't you going to say anything?"
"This steam is making my hair frizz."
"No, I know you. You have something to say. What is it?"
"This man, Hallstead. Is he Catholic or Protestant?"
"I just met him! All I know is he's from Montana."
"Ah!" Her mother's interest increased. "Is he Blackfoot, then?"
"I don't—"
"Crow? Flathead? Salish-Kootenai?"
"Mother! Stop being an anthropologist for a minute. He's just a man."
"Indeed?" Mother M's voice conveyed a thousand ideas in that one word.
Terry leaned forward and clasped both her mother's hands. She rocked twice, thinking, then sighed and answered as if admitting to petty crime.
"He's a good man. He just spends himself in crazy ways, trying to pay an old debt he only thinks he owes." Terry gave that a moment to sink into her mother's brain before adding, "I love you, Mother. I'm glad I have you, and I'm glad we talked. Now, please go away and never come back here, okay?"
Her mother thought for a number of seconds before agreeing. "Very well. But, before I depart, let me tell you how to get into the casino. There's no need for you to waste any more time than is absolutely necessary in this dangerous situation."
"Deal," said Terry.
A short while later, Terry and her mother stood together in a descending elevator. Mother M examined Terry's dress again, with a critical eye.
"Are you sure you don't want to go back to the room and get a shawl or a cape or something, dear?"
Terry just smiled at her.
When the elevator doors opened on the ground floor, Lola was waiting for them – stuffing folded money into her bosom.
"Goodbye, Aunt Mary," Teresa said, giving her mother a peck on the cheek.
"Goodbye, dear. Goodbye, Lola. It was nice meeting you."
"Same here. 'Bye."
The ladies parted company, and Mother M went back the way she had come, down the corridor. She made an unscheduled detour to the hotel dining room before leaving the building.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Terry has directions to the casino, but can only four undercover cops bust an operation this big and deadly when they have no way to call for backup? Things could get dicey (pun intended) in the next installment of Emerald's Secret.
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