Jeannette moved carefully around the large living room; seeing Clifford home in the middle of the day was remarkable and not a little puzzling. His face was set like stone and his brandy glass held more than enough for an afternoon social drink. She considered her opening comments, careful to make certain she was reading the signals correctly. It could have been a bad golf game; nothing else ever seemed to disturb him.

"I'm surprised to see you finished playing so soon." She tried.

"It would seem we both were surprised today then." He drank thirstily and gave her a hard stare.

"Really? What happened?" His tone set alarms ringing and Jeannette gathered herself for whatever was coming.

"My game was interrupted by a young woman from Kansas." He watched her reaction and smiled nastily when she brought a hand to her throat.

"I- I don't understand. Kansas?"

"Drop the fake confusion, Miss Zarkowski." Jeannette gasped aloud involuntarily and her face turned crimson. "Something you forgot to mention at the wedding?"

"It's- it's not what you think. I can explain..."

Clifford finished his drink and tossed the glass across the room. "You can explain to my lawyer."

"No! No, Clifford, please. Not this. Not now. I can explain. Please."

"You can move into the hotel until this has been resolved."

"Clifford! Please!"

He gave her one final, dirty look, and stalked out of the room. Jeannette moved to the window and stared blankly out at the vast expanse of precisely tended gardens and trees. How had anyone from Kansas found her? What had the woman told him? She leaned heavily against the glass and thought about all the plans she'd made for her future; all the people she'd cultivated and made beholden to her.

The thought made her straighten up suddenly and a feeling of hope washed over her and she began to pace the room, thinking, her expression changing from deep concern to a sly, knowing smile.

Jeannette Zarkowski wasn't beaten yet.

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

Grace gathered her hair behind her head and clipped it with a large butterfly clip as she gleefully related her latest gossip to Deborah and two other of their friends, Lolly Daniels and Torri Shannon.

"She walked right onto his putting green and started talking to him!"

"Where did you hear this anyway?" Torri laughed eagerly.

"Bruce, the valet at the club told his sister and she passed it on to me . . . in secret of course." They all laughed together. "He's afraid to go back to work or even ask for compensation for the cracked rib Clifford gave him."

Deborah debated whether to contribute to the gossip, because she had some rocking news straight from Mindy Cowls. Instead, she kept her own counsel and speculated along with the others.

Grace leaned on the counter, one hip shot to the side. "I understand the woman is a guest at your place, Deb."

"Liar!" Lolly punched Deborah's arm. "Tell us about her."

"There's nothing to tell. She seems like a nice person. She booked three nights and she mentioned she was here on business."

"Some business! What could she want with Clifford Whyst that would call for interrupting his golf for God's sake?" Torri asked.

Deborah played innocent and caught a suspicious look from Grace.

"I suppose we'll hear something sooner or later. Nothing much goes on in this town that doesn't eventually get into the public domain." Grace stretched her arms and sighed. "Well, enough gabbing, I have a business to run so you three can scoot and let me work."

She watched from the window as her two friends chatted a moment outside and then waved goodbye to one another. Grace puttered about her shop for a few minutes, her mind turning over the various ramifications of what she was about to do and finally decided upon which side her bread was buttered.

Lolly sat in her Mercedes and with arms locked straight out, gripped the steering wheel hard. This was dynamite news and very welcome indeed. She could see her opportunity of becoming the queen bee in Santa Gordo forming with shrewd clarity. The other women on the council will happily back her move, particularly since they resented being ordered on how to behave after Jeannette had exposed their opposition to the Mayor. She started the car and burst into traffic amid curses and a cacophony of horns.

Deborah hurried back to the hotel and dragged Gordon in from skimming the pool.

"We have guests who would like to swim, Deb."

"This is more important."

"Than business?"

She sat him down, and sat facing him, holding his hand. "This is big, Gordon."

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

Roger was waiting in a tall, padded booth when Warren arrived. A half filled glass of liquor sat on the coaster in front of him and his eyes were glued to the lithe young woman massaging the chrome pole on the stage beside the bar.

"Roger, got here early I see. Nice to see you again." Warren stuck out a hand as he sat and Roger turned in his seat to accept.

"Only a minute or two." He put his hand around the glass to hide the amount.

Warren smiled. "Good, good. Glad I didn't keep you waiting." His raised a hand and watched the buxom, scantily clad server make her way to their booth.

"I'll have a scotch and water, no ice and another of whatever my friend is having."

She delivered her mandatory smile and asked if it was on his friend's tab or his own. Warren said he was paying and mused over the fact that Roger's minute or two was a gross exaggeration.

"So, Roger, what's new and exciting at the Chamber of Commerce? All the town's horses saddled and ready to ride?"

Roger looked at him. "This will be a sharing of ideas for the benefit of the town, right?"

"Absolutely. I'm just providing an opening for our discussion."

The drinks came and Roger let his gaze linger on the departing server before finishing his half glass and sipping from the other.

"Nothing is new. Jeannette runs the office like it was her private empire. As her aide, I'm continually saddled with all the menial day to day business."

"But capably I'm sure." Warren tested the flavor of his own drink and licked his lips.

"It's the only reason things get done." Roger shifted his shoulders and went back to his drink.

"What about Harold or Edmond. Millicent Tweedy must be an efficient member."

"Edmond spends most of his time listening to his station callouts, and frankly," Roger leaned over the table as far as his little body would allow, "he contributes nothing... absolutely nothing. A yes man to Jeannette's every word."

"No..." Warren feigned surprise.

"Yes! And Harold is another. Never on time. Always complaining about the hours. He agrees with anyone."

"And Millicent?" Warren coaxed.

Roger finished his drink and Warren signaled the server, twirling his finger around the table.

"Millicent does her job but then her job is answering the phone and filing. Any boob could do that." Fresh drinks arrived and Roger sipped his without a thought. His attention wandered back to the stage beside the bar and Warren saw the sag of his mouth and the glassy look in his eyes.

"So that leaves you with the bulk of the workload then." Warren dragged Roger's attention back. "It's always the troops that rescue the generals."

"That and the fact that nothing I suggest ever gets taken seriously."

"Well that's just not right, Roger. And it's also the reason Rob and I and the other council members feel we should be looking into better ways to run both our offices."

"Lose Jeannette Whyst."

"That's a pretty strong step to take."

"But not too difficult." Roger said cryptically and slurped another ounce from his glass.

Warren's hand went up again and he leaned forward, encouraging more. The server arrived and Warren asked for something to nibble on. Roger coughed into his glass.

"I think your friend could use something to clear his throat."

"You're right, bring him another."

She smirked and minced away, bringing Roger's cough to a climax of red-faced barks.

"Have a sip of this, old man." Warren insisted, holding up the last of Roger's drink.

The server returned and set a fresh glass in front of him, leaned down and whispered that she hoped he would be able to enjoy her nibbles. Roger made a strangling sound and his eyes fastened like leeches on her retreat.

"How about taking a deep breath, Roger and focus on what we were saying." Warren sat back in the booth and tasted his drink modestly. "You mentioned that losing Jeannette wouldn't be too difficult. There must be a lot of bread crumbs she could follow to avoid that."

"It wouldn't be that hard." He took another large swallow and blinked at Warren. "She has been availing herself to different men around the town, creating a collection of compromised sources." He hiccupped and burped, excusing himself with an accompanying blush.

"Basically using sex to advance her agenda." Warren said.

"Exactly- exactly... abs-for sure."

"Anyone in particular?"

"Recently she locked on to a young hotelier at the Posada de Jardines. A fella named Gordon Hardy."

"What could she use him for?" Warren frowned.

"She already used him for housing her friends while at your boss's party."

"That's hardly something to muster concern over."

"No? Check around and find out what she did at her party... and it wasn't just him. Your boss has some fires to put out. And in spite of all this liquor you've pumped into me, Warren, I know that's why you're here."

Warren considered his friend and decided that truth would provide better results than guile.

"Guilty, Roger. But also guilty of wanting our town to work and as I see it, all associations like ours need to work cooperatively. Nothing like everyone pulling oars together."

"You mean we need to take sides."

"Okay. We need to take sides. Which one are you on, Roger?"

There was a long, silent pause during which both men drank, watching one another. Finally Roger leaned forward again, his chin almost on the table.

"The angels."

Warren smiled and downed the last of his liquor. "Very good, Roger. Angels it is. I sincerely hope whatever... news... you provide will warrant you getting your wings."

"The first thing I can tell you are the names of all the women in her 'committee'."

"An excellent start, Roger. In return we will be sure to consult with you first when we call on the Chamber for anything."

Roger drained his glass and carefully read his watch. "I think I should be going."

"Don't drive, Roger; call a taxi."