A telephone campaign was quickly arranged to sound out the minority shareholders and Peter also prepared a company mailing with a resume of Cybrus including a list of all the potential benefits that could accrue under their ownership. Everything was headed confidential with a brief legal explanation composed by Myles. Only outside suppliers would be used for the preparations; any mention at all to Barton would ignite a firestorm.

They all knew very well that Barton's position, when the business became firmly established, was to simply tread water, relying on the company's reputation and strong market foothold, flexing the company muscle only when necessary. He often hinted that he had spent enough energy getting to where he was and a bit of coasting wouldn't hurt. But as Peter had purposely pointed out at recent meetings, new faces were appearing in the marketplace arena and only those who adjusted would survive the advancing wave. Barton just glowered.

While the general mailing was quietly being prepared for the shareholders, Brian made his plans to concentrate on Miriam's backroom maneuvering. With such huge potential gains at stake, Brian had no qualms about exploiting his relationship with Moira, their long-standing friendship did, after all, allow for personal business contact. But Miriam needed careful watching. Brian sensed she was more involved than was apparent on the surface.

•••

Abatha shuffled ahead of Peter down the polished hallway, past the library entrance and straight out to the atrium.

"Mister Delacourte, ma'am." She puffed, stepping aside as Peter strolled onto the Italian tile floor of the plant festooned atrium. The air was heavy with what could only be described as a green smell.

"Peter, welcome. I'm so glad you called, I was beginning to wonder if I would hear from you again." Miriam set down a pair of designer garden snips and pulled off her designer gloves, holding out a poised hand.

Obediently, he accepted her welcoming grasp and followed her to a wrought iron patio set in a shady corner. "I wasn't sure if you wanted me calling you here at your home. Obviously I worried for nothing since I'm now here in person."

She lifted the large sunhat from her head and let her hair tumble about her shoulders as Abatha returned with a tray of iced tea and chocolate cookies.

"Thank you, Abatha. Mister Delacourte and I have business to discuss so would please just take messages if anyone should call or visit."

"Ma'am." The faithful Abatha rolled away on obviously old, aching feet.

"Tea, Peter?" He nodded and settled back on the chair. "Coming here presents no problem, Peter. Myles is only home for dinners and bed... or should I say sleep."

He coughed politely. "So why am I here, Miriam? Wouldn't a phone call have been easier?"

"Tell me," Miriam asked, ignoring his questions. "How did things go with Arnold?"

"Very impressive. Chang has quite an operation over there. He wants the whole business, lock and all the stock."

"Arnold can be very possessive. How are the others taking the news?"

"On board, both of them. I would have thought you would know about Myles yourself."

"He can be secretive sometimes."

"What, no pillow talk in the marital chamber?"

She stopped pouring and looked at him in surprise, a faint hue seeping into her cheeks. "Why Peter, I thought you came to discuss business."

"That too." He lifted a cookie from the plate and nibbled calmly, watching her.

"I suppose in your case they're the same thing really." She passed him a cup and raised her own to her lips.

"I just want some clarification, Miriam. You mention Moira and her shares to me and the next thing I hear she's wanting to discuss business with Myles and as far as I know, Brian as well. Are you playing the same game with all of us?"

Miriam sipped her tea and stared at the tabletop. So Moira has made a move already, well good for her. "As a matter of fact, yes, but when Arnold asked me I told him that as financial officer of the company, Peter, you were the one I wanted him to meet with."

He bit his cookie in half, showering bits onto his shirtfront. "The one you wanted him to meet with?"

"Have another cookie while I tell you what I think, Peter."

The sun had shifted in the sky putting the shady corner directly in its path and, magnified by the glass ceiling, the temperature drove them to a garden swing outside under a massive chestnut tree. Peter sat with his eyes closed and his head resting on the back of the seat as it rocked slowly, trying to assimilate Miriam's story. At first it sounded absolutely preposterous, the ravings of a bitter wife with delusions of grandeur but as she patiently explained, it revealed a diabolical logic and an almost foolproof plan. The biggest surprise of all was her almost girlish embarrassment over her part for him in the scheme-plus, she wanted him!

"Well?"

"I believe it's time to take an aggressive interest in Mister Chang's offer."

Miriam placed a warm hand on his arm. "And Mrs. Spenser-Forbin?"

He sat up and shifted to face her, slipping dangerously into the violet pools of her eyes. "Especially Mrs. Spenser-Forbin." Their lips met with brief hesitation and then increasing passion, causing the garden seat structure to creak and groan from the unusual stress.