Warren Biggs and Bradley Marchmount listened to their Mayor's revelation about his call from Jeannette Whyst, a surprising confession for one in his position, and both stirred in their chairs uncomfortably. Rob Brewster wasn't the only one who had also been secretly indiscrete with members of Jeannette's committee.

"This is war, gentlemen. War with a bunch of wily, power hungry bitches that plan to use extortion to take over this office. Blackmail is what it is."

"I thought it was extortion."

"It's both, Warren. And it's gotta be stopped somehow right away." Rob marched about the office touching his citation frames and various award certificates.

"How? All of us are in the same boat!" Bradley wrung his hands nervously.

"By getting something on them, Godammit! There must be something we can dig up. Some dirt that will smear their smug faces." Rob slammed down into his chair and snarled at the desktop.

"Whatever we do we now have to have a strategy for Monday morning." His look confirmed that it was Rob's rash threat that set their deadline.

Warren raised a hand and made a suggestion. "I'm a pretty good friend of Roger Dortmund and he's Jeannette's aide at the Chamber of Commerce. Maybe he can provide some gossip . . . it is what he thrives on normally."

"Yeah, the little prick was the one who mentioned my being at the Wigwam Bar when I was supposed to be at a club meeting." Bradley spat.

"Talk to him. Today." Rob thumped a fist on the desk. "Meanwhile you start canvassing her friends—other than this bloody committee—and see if anyone else has a bent nose." He aimed his letter opener at Bradley.

"What about you?"

"I'm going to draft the dismissal papers for the four traitors on our board."

"Move with caution, Rob. We're already under a very limited deadline because of rashness." Bradley stood as Rob bounced out of his chair.

"You just do what I said and move your ass so this rash deadline doesn't become a bigger problem."

"He has a point, Rob." Warren said after Bradley left. "They won't go easily, particularly with the ammunition Jeannette claims to have."

"I'm the bloody Mayor here! If I want to fire somebody I bloody well will!"

"All I'm saying is don't build your sand castles too close to the shore."

Rob stared, bewildered.

*************************

Mindy hurried across the patio, fumbling her room key out of her purse as she went. Deborah watched from the office and knew immediately that something was wrong. She hesitated getting involved but the woman seemed really nice and she had confided in her earlier. Deborah put the phone on auto answer and left the office.

Mindy opened the curtains before answering the knock and then opened the door, pulling Deborah inside.

"What's the matter? You look scared stiff."

Mindy sat on the bed and clasped her hands on her lap.

"I told Clifford Whyst what I had learned and what I was going to do. I thought he would be grateful to learn what his wife was. Instead he threatened me and then chased after me with a golf club."

"What! He actually threatened harm!" Deborah joined her on the bed and put an arm around the shaking woman.

"I think I underestimated my position in this matter. He tried to bribe me first and when I refused he got really angry then I said something about his golf club and he nearly went berserk."

"Well I know his golf is more important than his wife but you must have hit a very sensitive nerve."

"What can I do? He must own everyone in this town. If I go to the police with my case against Mrs. Whyst they're liable to arrest me!"

"Are your facts solid? Is she the thief you think she is?"

"I know she is, and yes, my facts are bullet proof."

"Then I think you should go ahead and get her charged."

"Easy for you to say." Mindy stood and paced the room.

"Well, I'm no lawyer or anything but this was committed out of state right?" Mindy nodded. "So then go to the state police, they would be the ones to extradite her back to uh-- where was it?"

"Kansas."

"Right. Kansas."

"Do they have an office here?"

"As a matter of fact, Jeremy Callum just retired from the force and he lives right here in town. I'm sure he could advise you on how to go about things."

"Why are you doing this-- helping me?"

Deborah blushed and stood, moving toward the door.

"I honest to God don't know. You just struck me as a nice person and- and--"

"Can you put me in touch with this Jeremy?"

Deborah opened the door and stepped outside. "I'll look up his number and you can give him a call."

"I really appreciate this, Deborah. I have to admit that I am very nervous about doing anything after this morning."

Without replying, she nodded and hurried back to the office.

********************

Edmond Rainsbury slapped his leg and laughed aloud as Jeremy fired his slingshot at the cat slinking along the top rail of his fence at the bottom of his yard.

"Thank goodness we didn't need your shootin' ability when you were still workin', Jer."

"I didn't use a slingshot when I was working, Ed, and for your information I was a department marksman."

"God help us." Edmond laughed again, heartily.

"Speaking of work, shouldn't you be at the station instead of out here drinking my beer?"

"It's my lunch hour."

"Hour? You've been here most of the morning."

"Slow day."

Jeremy dropped his slingshot on the porch and stared at his old friend.

"Slow day? How can say you're having a slow day? You fight fires!"

"And, do you see any anywhere?"

"I can just imagine what you would have said if I had done something like this when I was working."

"We did!" Edmond roared again with laughter.

The telephone ring sounded from inside and Jeremy climbed out of his seat and went inside. When he came out he was scratching his chin and his eyes held an amused twinkle.

"Looks like I'm suddenly in demand again."

"What for, shootin' cats offa fences?" Edmond choked on his beer and rocked forward, slapping his leg.

"Some young lady wants help making a presentation to the state police."

"And she called you?"

"Okay, Ed, enough joking. I think you best get back to the station before you find it burned to the ground."

"Wouldn't be a bad thing actually. Place is getting in need of a lot of repairs." Edmond sighed and stretched as he clumped down the steps to the sidewalk, waving as he wandered up beside the house and out to the drive.

**********************

"Roger, it's Warren Biggs. I called to say hi and ask if we could meet for a drink or a coffee this evening?"

"Warren, it's been quite a while." Cautious.

"I know and that's exactly why I'm calling. It's been too long. I must be honest, Roger, I do have a motive." The silence indicated that Roger was waiting for the explanation. "With Rob as the new Mayor and I being one of the senior council members, I made the suggestion that we should be reaching out to the other citizens groups in Santa Gordo and using the abundant talents in concert for the benefit of the town. Not much point in having star players warming the benches, eh?"

"That's always been my contention," Roger said primly.

"Exactly. I told Rob that if we wanted to mine the best minds for ideas we needed to go beyond the figureheads and get to the real workers."

"Well that's no lie." Another silence, this time Warren waited. "What time and where did you have in mind?"

"Do you prefer a drink or just coffee?"

"I think serious business calls for a serious drink."

"Marvelous. How about Cutter's at say-- six?"

"I wouldn't want to be too distracted, Warren."

"Don't worry, the real show doesn't start until nine."

"Six it is. See you then."