The little group looked around the lavish waiting area, their eyes wide, their jaws dropping. “Furnishings, paintings, carpeting, plus the mannequin behind the desk, three hundred thousand easy,” Maggie whispered. “And this is just the waiting room. Well, it is Vegas, so I guess money is no object. Let me handle this,” she hissed as she approached the shiny desk where a woman sat staring into space. Maggie summed her up in a heartbeat. Vegas showgirl gone to seed but fighting it every step of the way. Botoxed out the kazoo to the point that nothing moved on her face. There was nothing on the desk except a console phone and a computer that wasn’t turned on. A game show with a shrill, squealing audience was on the color TV that hung suspended from the ceiling. Maggie eyed the wild Dolly Parton wig the woman was wearing, the blood-red nails that were so long she understood why the computer was off—the talons would get stuck in the keyboard. She took a second to wonder how she wiped her rear end. She answered her own thought by assuming the woman had a bidet. Maggie shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Ma’am, can you please help us?” When the woman didn’t respond, Jack walked over to the free-hanging TV and pulled the plug.

“Ma’am?”

“It’s Crystal. Miss Crystal Shine,” the receptionist said, eyeing Jack, Ted, and Dennis.

“Of course it is,” Maggie drawled.

“We’re here to see Mr. Meadows.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

Maggie was about to say no, then changed that to “Absolutely we do. Otherwise, why would we be here? Just tell us where he is, and we’ll find our own way. That way you can get back to your game show.”

The woman thought about it for a few seconds. “Go through that door on the left, go down the hall to the end, and Mr. Meadows’s office is the last one. What did you say your name was?”

“Barbara Walters,” Maggie said with a straight face.

“Really! You look wonderful for your age,” Miss Crystal Shine said.

Jack developed a coughing fit that was so alarming, Ted had to clap him on the back. “Barbara Walters!” Jack gasped as he stumbled along behind Maggie and Cyrus.

“Obviously, she needs glasses,” Maggie said, and giggled. “Ah, okay, here we are. Oh, lookie here, tell me that isn’t a fancy-schmantzy nameplate. If you care to look around, this one is the biggest and the shiniest compared to the others. Guess that’s why he gets the last office with the wraparound windows. Does his job pay that well?” she whispered.