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shaking his head. “You were dead.”
    â€œSo I heard. I don’t know how they did it, but somebody put me on ice and gave it out I was dead.”
    â€œYou were dead, man! I came to the viewing. You were wearing that same tie.”
    Ned glanced down at the tie, a striped number, pale blue and white with a kind of silvery sheen. He didn’t remember it, but then he had about a billion ties.
    â€œMust’ve been some poor schmoe they dressed up to look like me. Whoever did this is a sick fuck, you know? Obviously it was a threat.”
    â€œA threat? Put you on ice fourteen years as a threat? Man, who’d go to the trouble?”
    â€œI don’t know. I thought at first Randy’d done it, but I don’t think she could pull this off. Maybe I pissed off the mob. They been after me anyway, ever since they did Fat Herbie.”
    Donny glared at him over his whiskey glass. “Piss off the mob, they ice you permanent. No, it’d take some weirdo with a lot of cash and too much imagination to dream up something like this and pull it off.”
    â€œYeah, but Hughes is dead.”
    â€œHe wasn’t the only rich weirdo in Vegas.”
    They both took slugs of their drinks. Ned rolled his glass between his palms and looked for a waitress to order another round.
    â€œSomebody’s living in my house.”
    â€œYeah, well. You were dead.”
    â€œSo my assets are all gone.”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œI’ve got some silver stashed.”
    â€œNo, you don’t. Dick Tabbet dug it up.”
    Ned stared at Donny. Donny took another pull at his drink.
    â€œThat’s why he and Randy were taken to trial,” Donny added. “They also tracked some of your coins and stuff back to Tabbet. I assume you heard about the trial?”
    Ned frowned. “Some.”
    â€œThey were accused of burking you for your cash.”
    â€œSon of a bitch.”
    Ned finished his drink in one large swallow. A red haze was beginning to form around the edges of his vision. Unusual on only one drink, but then god only knew what the kidnappers had doped him with. He didn’t feel too bad physically. He was getting angrier by the minute, though.
    Donny caught the eye of a passing waitress and called for another round. “So, what did happen?”
    â€œFuck if I remember.”
    â€œOh. You don’t remember anything for the past fourteen years?”
    Ned shook his head. “I remember sending Connie off to college. I remember telling my lawyer to take Randy out of the will. Had the feeling she was going to try something. Did he do that?”
    Donny shrugged. “She was convicted, so she didn’t inherit anything. Only they overturned the conviction, so I don’t know what happened.”
    â€œSonofabitch! She got off?”
    â€œBoth of ‘em got off. Some of the evidence was thrown out, something about button-marks on your chest. You got any of those?”
    Ned glanced at his chest. He didn’t know, and he wasn’t going to strip in the bar to find out.
    â€œI’ll fucking kill ‘em!”
    â€œCh, ch, ch,” Donny said as the waitress came up. She set down their glasses, shot a questioning glance at Donny, then left.
    Ned gulped down half the new drink. “You gotta help me, Donny. You gotta help me get my life back.”
    â€œAfraid that’s beyond my scope, buddy. Talk to your lawyer.”
    â€œYeah. I’ll call him in the morning.” Ned took another swig, frowning at the table top. “You ever been to Atlantic City?”
    â€œNo. Why?”
    â€œJust wondering. Been thinking about it.”
    â€œIf the mob’s after you, I’d stay out of Jersey.”
    â€œThey’re not after me. I’m dead, right?”
    â€œChrist, Neddy.”
    â€œThink about it. It’d be like starting with a clean slate.”
    â€œOK, I’m too tired for this. It’s three in the fucking