Gordon carried the garbage bag from Mindy's room around to the dumpster and tossed it inside. Puela hauled the sheets off the bed and piled them on her cart with the towels and facecloths from the bathroom. Gordon came back in and asked if everything looked okay and he prowled around the room.

"You expectin' to fin' something", Mr. Gordon?"

"Not really, just being thorough. I hate having to send things forgotten across the country at my expense."

"I was wonderin' if you thought I kep' stuff I found."

"Oh, Puela no. Jeez that didn't even-- I'm sorry if you felt that way." Gordon immediately held out his hands and made his way to the door. He heard her offer her own apology as he stepped quickly across the patio.

"Oh, Gordon!" Miranda yoo-hooed from her post on the patio swing seat. He stuttered to a stop, forced a smile and turned, cocking his head to the side in question.

"Gordon, Betts and I were wondering if you might enlighten us as to the all the fuss around that young lady's room."

"What fuss would that be, Miranda?" He asked politely, sauntering toward her.

"Well, I said to Betts, didn't I Betts. I said, after we spoke to councilman Biggs, I wonder why they're here visiting that young lady."

"And what did Betty say, Miranda?" Gordon knew he had made a cardinal error being sarcastic and he stood, face frozen in polite attention, hoping she wouldn't react negatively.

"Why I said, I don't really know, Miranda." Betty leaned forward sincerely, patting her sister's arm.

The action turned on a very bright light in Gordon's head and he turned his attention to the, heretofore, unspoken sister.

"Frankly, Betty, neither do I. Whatever business they had was their own and they didn't share."

Betty nodded, keeping her fingers on Miranda's arm, her own face almost creating a sly smile.

"I'm sure if there was something we needed to know you would tell us, Gordon."

"Indeed I would, Betty. I would definitely tell you." The slight emphasis on her name confirmed a silent acknowledgement.

"Another light bulb?" Deborah asked when he returned to the office.

"No, just snooping, but I did learn something that I was always suspicious of."

"What?"

"Betty is the one that calls the shots in that couple. She seems to prefer the role of doting sister but it's really Miranda that does the doting and acts as the front for their little performances."

"I saw you in Mindy's room."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"As an owner and manager I feel I have the right to inspect the rooms if and when I like."

"Right. You were simply doing what you said the sisters were doing."

"I don't snoop!"

"Okay." She busied herself folding personal laundry. "Find anything?"

"Nope, I wa— that was sneaky, West."

"She called a cab from the office as soon as she paid her bill and I heard her tell them it was to the airport."

"Doubt we'll be seeing Mindy Cowls again." Gordon sank onto the sofa and put his feet on a magazine on the coffee table.

"You know they bought her off."

"Why am I not surprised. Clifford Whyst has enough money to pretty much have his way in anything."

"It's not right. She shouldn't get away with what she did." Deborah leaned on her little fists on the table.

"What makes you think she did?"

"What do you know? Do you know something?"

"Not officially but I can't imagine that Mindy was just shuffled off with a payout; Jeannette's future must have been one of the conditions."

Deborah gave him a shrewd look and announced she was going out for an hour or so. His protest fell on deaf ears and he waved goodbye with a sarcastic nonchalance. Puela stuck her head in the door and stated that all the rooms were finished and the laundry was on the last load in the dryer.

Gordon thanked her and wandered into the office to check their bookings.

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

"C'mon Grace, you know what's going on with everyone in this town." Deborah stood at the counter in the shop, hands on hips and one foot resisting an annoyed tap on the tile floor.

"All I know, Deb, is what other people tell me. Doesn't make it the truth."

"Fine, tell me the gossip then."

Grace sighed and absently scratched her chest. "Jeannette Whyst is holed up in a suite at the Colonial Palm, a directive from her husband according to Lolly."

"He kicked her out! That's all?"

"Maybe. Lolly says that Torri told her that Rob Brewster went to Jeannette's house and left in a red-faced rage. "

"How would Torri know that?"

"She was in the caddy hut with the new valet . . . I think his name is Buck Swagger."

Deborah's face creased. "Pu-lease."

"True." Grace crossed her heart. "They saw him drive up and storm inside and not long after he charged out and drove off like a rocket."

"I meant, Buck Swagger."

"Oh, well it's something like that. Anyway Torri couldn't finish fast enough to get back and tell everyone."

Another frown from Deborah as she pictured the scene.

"Also, Kit said that Clifford's lawyer was at your hotel seeing this Cowls woman." Her eyebrows rose as she stared at Deborah. "Well?"

"Well what. Yes, he was there and he saw her."

"You weren't going to say anything?" Grace snorted a tight laugh and came from behind the counter. "You come here for your gossip fix but you don't share, Deb. What's with that?" Deborah blushed and Grace knew right away that she had entertained an accurate suspicion earlier. "Out with it, girl."

Deborah apologized and told Grace everything she had shared with Mindy.

"She took a payoff?"

"She said that it would satisfy her clients and she would be doing alright for herself." Deborah looked out the window. "I thought she was a really dedicated, ethical person when I offered my help."

"Money is a powerful persuader, especially Clifford Whyst's money. I'm not surprised she took a deal, I would have."

"Grace!"

"What the hell, If I had the chance to make everything right for a client and come out flush myself, I'd do it in heartbeat. Jeannette Whyst is finished in Santa Gordo, trust me. You can bet they didn't make any deal that would let her off the hook and leave themselves exposed. I think your friend's ethics will be well served in that regard."

Deborah slumped on the counter and shook her head. "I suppose so."

"So what's wrong then?"

She straightened up. Nothing, I guess . . . Buck Swagger?"

Grace laughed and slapped her shoulder. "I know. Conjures up all kinds of images doesn't it? Torri swears by him though, says he can drive a ball like a howitzer."

"Torri doesn't golf?"

Grace stared at her friend. "You missed the analogy, Deb. She was referring to his prowess." She nodded her head, coaxing an understanding.

"Oh!"

"Yeah, oh." Grace shook her head. "What does Gordon say?"

"About what?"

"Duh-- about Jeannette and her shady past."

"Nothing. I guess he's as surprised as anybody. He certainly won't be hurrying to accommodate any of her friends again."

"If she even has any. So are things okay with you two?"

"Sure. I mean nothing's changed between us." Deborah waved an impatient hand. "Gordon is Gordon and I'm me. We're fine."

"Good. Keep it that way; you are a nice fit together."

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

Wilfred sat across from Jeannette and silently watched her as she worked his message around in her head, looking for a crack to drive in a wedge of survival.

Rob's resignation and apology to Clifford told her that any hope in that area was eliminated and from what she had been told, unless she wanted to be shipped off to Kansas to face fraud and theft charges, her collection of videos would soon belong to the very people she had intended to threaten with their content.

"I could just release them anyway, Wilfred; it would ruin the lot of you."

"And you could enjoy that questionable victory from a six by nine dirty little cell in a Kansas jail. Don't think extortion charges, however damaging to us, wouldn't be added to the fraud charges, my dear and with Clifford's power behind us you would be lucky to see the light of day again." Wilfred's voice sanded the air between them in a raspy tone.

"You are all bastards, you know that." She hugged herself tightly. "What happens to me now?"

"Whatever Clifford decides I suppose. That's out of my hands, Jeannette. The beds you made, or should I say, unmade, is where your destiny lies." He grunted as he rose from the chair, straightening his jacket and giving a polite cough. "Your crime has been taken care of, Jeannette, don't ruin that advantage for yourself, things can change back very quickly." He gave her a crooked smile and headed for the door. "I'll expect all the material in my hands by noon tomorrow, no delay, Jeannette. We're playing hardball here. I'll let myself out."

So that's it, she thought. All the planning, all the pretending to her numerous partners, all for nothing. She rested her head on the seat back and stared at the ceiling. Rob Brewster had folded like tissue paper to her husband's demands and the rest helped him do it. She didn't stand a chance. The video collection was to be in the hands of the lawyer by the morning or she would be arrested and extradited to Kansas to face trial and an assured conviction.

Jeannette looked around the suite and slowly realized that this was going to be her future. This was going to be her prison. How would she be treated, she wondered?

Rodney stiffened his back as he listened to the orders From Hiram Belvedere being delivered to him over the telephone. Clifford Whyst was delivering the rules the hotel would follow with regard to his wife and Rodney felt a worm of disgust move in his stomach.

The Colonial Palm Hotel was being ordered to maintain the suite of rooms where Jeannette Whyst lived as an entertainment room for Clifford's golfing cronies; and in light of the recent episode with Lonnie he knew exactly what that meant.

The rumours about her were swirling like dust devils throughout the community and When he hung up, Rodney adjusted his thinking to that of his employer. If that was her means for getting ahead it was fitting that it should be the means by which she is punished.

Two or three of her close women friends had also been spoken to and been given an ultimatum regarding their continuing presence in Santa Gordo; they all reluctantly accepted their future, avoiding a fate similar to that of the ex Mayor. He tugged his jacket and shot his cuffs, smiling gleefully at the young couple approaching the front desk.

"Welcome to the Colonial Palm."