Bobby suddenly heard a very small muffled voice coming from the closet. “I'm not here. Go away, Daddy!”

Bobby opened the closet door, and there, way in the back, sitting under a hundred little dresses and other outfits, he saw his little girl. Without saying anything, he got down on hands and knees and crawled back to her. When he reached her, he simply sat next to her. Gracie took a sideways glance at him, clutched her teddy bear tightly to her chest and began to pout.

“I guess you're not too happy about leaving, huh?”

Gracie turned and peered up at him with him with her big brown eyes. “I'm not going! I'm staying here with Teddy.”

“I see. Are you sure? Because I'm really going to miss you if you don't come with us.”

“No you won't. You and Mommy have that new baby. I'm just the old one.”

“Gracie, you're not just the old one, you're the older one. Savannah is just a little baby. She doesn't know how to do anything yet.”

“She knows how to cry!”

Bobby stifled a chuckle. “Yeah, but there are lots of things she still needs to learn. You know, I was the youngest in my family; and who do you think taught me the most?”

Gracie looked at him solemnly and shrugged her shoulders.

“My big brother Gary. I don't know what I'd have done without him when I was little. It's a very important job, being a big brother or sister. ” Gracie was listening intently now. Bobby decided to take a chance and see how she'd react to a little challenge. Being his daughter, she'd surely have enough Ewing blood in her to get fired up at the thought that she couldn't do something. “But it takes a lot of hard work. Maybe you're right; maybe you can't do it.”

Gracie straightened her spine and looked at him indignantly. “Yes I can!” “I don't know. To be a good big sister, you have to spend time with your little sister and since you're staying here…”

“I'm gonna be the best big sister ever… and Savannah needs to learn a lot more than other little babies 'cause she's extra little.”

“That's my girl!” Bobby smiled and held out his arms to her and she jumped into them, hugging him as tightly as she could. He sat her on his lap for a moment. “Gracie, your Mommy and I love you and Savannah just the same. We love you very much, and we always will.”

“I love you, too, Daddy.” Gracie planted a kiss on his cheek and raced out of the closet.

“Hey, not so fast. Where are you going?”

“My sister needs me!” With that she ran out the door and down the steps, leaving bobby to crawl out of her closet on his own.

“I've got Jack Adams and Cindy Carson from accounting flying down this afternoon,” Sue Ellen explained. “They'll take a final look at the books for Davis and advise us if they think it's worth making an offer.”

“...good, I've got Anderson flying in, too, to analyze those papers. If they're legit...” J.R. started.

“But why wouldn't you have found anything like that when you were running Weststar? Surely everything's considerably more organized there than at Davis?” Sue Ellen asked.

“Well, I suppose Jeremy Wendell coulda deep-sixed a lotta that stuff when he took over. Daddy warned Gordon... 'Watch Wendell, he's gonna cut you out of everything you've built' he'd say. But, he didn't listen, and just like Daddy said, he ended up with nothing.”

“Well...I definitely agree with you that Davis Gas would be an attractive acquisition for Ewing Oil...if nothing else than for something for John Ross to play with.”

“Or if not him, I'm sure one of his friends would be more than interested in pumping gas for a living,” J.R. added. “Damn punks...”

Sue Ellen laughed. “You are getting old!”

“Hey, like Mama always says, I was born old!”

“If I had only known,” he thought as he shook his head slowly and thought about why he was here. His thoughts were disturbed as a familiar voice came behind him.

"Stephen!"

Dent turned to see a man he never thought he would see in the United States.

"Herr Streiberg! I can't begin to tell you how happy I am to see you!" Dent said as he smiled and shook the man's hand. He was tall, fair skinned, and had light blond hair. His face didn't match his age, as Dent thought often.

"Ja, Stephen, I can imagine you are glad to see me. What do you say we go down to the limo and we discuss matters?" Streiberg's reply came. He had a clipped Swedish accent that made some of the passengers give him a quick glance. "Would you mind carrying my bags? I don't believe in baggage claims."

"No, sir." Dent hoisted the bags and he thought back to how he met Streiberg.

The year was 1994 and Dent was on holiday. He had just ended his first term as Congressman and as his backers fueled his campaign finances for re-election, Dent decided to go to Europe. He had been in Switzerland for two days before it happened.

Dent decided to take out a Swedish call girl and she ended up dead. They drank to celebrate their night on the town but as they returned from dinner, she had passed out. After a frantic call to the hospital, Dent's prostitute died, apparently from mixing drugs and alcohol.

Dent remembered the slow crawl of tension down his spine and he thought on how word of this would obliterate his chances of re-election. As he wondered if he could jump from the roof, a hand went on his shoulder. The voice was cold, but somehow friendly at the same time.

"Herr Congressman. Perhaps I may be of assistance." Dent knew the man was Klaus Streiberg, the CEO of a sizable European energy company called Morningstar Investments. It was rumored that he was a shady businessman, but Dent knew that any help was help he needed. They talked and cut a deal. This would be covered up in exchange for specific errands to be requested at any time. Dent was young, and his chances of office loomed large, now that he had powerful friends.

And so it went. The girl was cremated and never asked about again. Dent returned to America and was re-elected in a landslide. He served on the Energy committee and at that end of the following term, Streiberg asked him to stop. Since then, Streiberg had Dent do odd jobs for him. Some time with the Oil Regulatory committee, and for the past two years, Dent worked for West Star's board. Dent always wondered how the older man had the stock behind him to support electing a board member. To Dent, all that mattered was one day making Senator or Governor of Texas. He took his orders without complaint.

As they entered the limo, Dent slipped the driver a hundred dollar bill and patted him on the shoulder. The driver closed the door and Dent prepared himself for the inevitable.

"McKay signed over the stock to Wendell's dummy corporation, as planned?"

"Yes, sir."

"Wendell has thanked you and now trusts you?"

"Yes, sir. He signed it over to Deep Sands, Inc. I think Wendell started that one when disco was in style." he ventured with a smile. Klaus did not smile.

"Stephen, it is important that you grasp some things I am about to tell you. First of all, I plan to set up an office for Morningstar Investments in this city. As you may know, Morningstar owns several oil fields and large amounts of real estate in Texas." Dent knew that was coming. "Also, I plan to help Jeremy Wendell, but do whatever it takes to cover the fact that you have ties to me." Dent nodded. "Finally, Stephen, Morningstar Investments has two surprises for my old rival Rex Wentworth. The first is that I have controlled a very large block of West Star stock for some time now. The second is that Morningstar is now involved with Project Guinea."

Dent's jaw dropped. "How, sir? That must not have been easy."

Streiberg laughed. "Stephen, you Americans should know better than anyone else in the world, connections are everything." The limo flew past several skyscrapers, but as it passed the West Star building, Dent couldn't help but feel that Wentworth was going to kill him if this didn't work out like the old man planned.

“Mr. Ewing, Mr. Ewing.”

Pam poked her head out of the limo window. “What does he want?”

“I don't know, but whatever it is, I'll take care of it. If we don't get out of here in the next five minutes, we'll be so late that our pilot will have to file a new flight plan.”

“Hello, officer.”

The officer nodded toward the limousine. “Going somewhere?”

“Seems like a good time to get away for a while. What can I do for you?”

“Actually, I didn't come to talk to you. I need to speak with Mrs. Ewing.”

“I told you, she's not well enough to be questioned.”

“Mr. Ewing, with all due respect, I'm beginning to wonder whether you're interested in finding the person who injured your wife. I understood when you didn't think we should question her at the hospital, what with the loss of you're son and all. But it's been a while now and we're running out of leads. What your wife saw might be our best chance of catching this creep.”

“Nobody wants that guy found more than I do. But Pam's still recuperating.”

“Mr. Ewing…”

“… and I'm not going to let anyone remind her of that accident again right now. She's still grieving for our son.”

The officer pondered that for a moment. It hadn't been that long since the baby died. Maybe she still wasn't doing so good. It was certainly possible. The last thing he wanted was to cause a set back for a family that had already lost so much. Especially this family… on the other hand, his boss had ordered him to come back with that report.

Bobby guessed at what he was thinking. “I'll even make a call to the station and talk to the Sheriff myself. Then you can question Pamela as soon as we get back.”

“Well, I guess if you call and smooth things over with the Sheriff…”

“I will.”

“But we'll need to get a statement from her as soon as you get back.”

Bobby climbed into the car and settled himself in the seat next to Pam.

“What did he want?”

He hesitated for a moment. “He had some more questions about the theft at Wentworth.” Guilt from lying to her immediately swept over him.

“Don't they have any leads yet?”

“No.” He quickly changed the subject. “Hey, look at these brochures I picked up.”

Pam looked at them with him. “I didn't realize China was so beautiful.”

“Yeah, can't wait to get there.” Actually, Bobby was glad to be going anywhere away from Dallas.

“But it's hot out there,” Cole complained.

Austin kicked Cole's foot. “Hush before she changes her mind. I'd rather be out there than in here any day. We can play under the tree.”

Austin and Cole both grabbed an armful of trucks and Karen opened the door for them and shooed them out into the backyard.

“Seems to me that you have this parenting thing all figured out,” Christopher said with a laugh. Karen used her feather duster to dust the shelf above the television, but she turned and used it on Christopher when he approached her. “Hey, cut that out,” he said, but a sneeze cut him off.

“I'm just trying to make this house look halfway presentable. If your grandma or someone were to stop by and visit, I'd be so embarrassed I'd probably die.” Karen started moving pieces off the shelf so she could dust it more easily.

“Yeah, well Grandma has a maid to dust her shelves. Ours is on vacation. I think we have justification to have a little bit of dust in our house. Besides, if you get rid of all the cobwebs, where will our spiders live?”

“I can really do without this,” Karen said, trying to avoid laughing. The doorbell rang, echoing throughout the house. “I guess since the maid is busy dusting, I'll get that.” Christopher swung a wide left around Karen to avoid her feather duster and he went into the foyer to answer the doorbell. Like John Ross, Becky was the last person he expected to see—or wanted to see for that matter.

“Hello Christopher.”

“I should have known this peace wouldn't last,” he said. “I guess it was only wishful thinking that you would stay away and leave us alone forever.”

Karen stepped into the entryway to the foyer and listened.

“I'm not here to cause trouble. I just want Megan.”

Christopher laughed, but his laugh was dry and without humor. “Oh, is that all. Well in that case, why don't I just pack her bags and send her with you?”

Becky smiled. “That's what I want you to do. The less stressful this is for Megan, the better it is for all of us.”

“If that was really the case, then why the hell are you back now?” Karen asked, walking around the corner. “Your coming in here trying to take our daughter is going to confuse and upset her.”

“Your daughter? Goodness Karen, are you still on heroin? I could have sworn I heard you call her your daughter.” Becky pushed past Christopher and walked into the room. “Megan!” she called. “Megan, your mommy is back…”

Christopher grabbed Becky by the arm and pulled her back into the foyer. “I didn't invite you in.”

“I don't need an invitation when you're keeping my daughter here. Like I said, I don't want any trouble. I just want Megan.”

As if on cue, Megan appeared around the corner and she stood in the doorway, looking confused. “Mommy?”

Becky stooped down and stretched out her arms. “That's right baby, come to Mommy.” Megan stood still, clinging to a doll. After a few seconds, she ran to Karen and held on to her leg. Karen reached down and picked her up.

Becky looked back at Christopher and then met Karen's gaze again. “I don't know what kind of brainwashing you've been doing to her, but you had no right!”

“She's not going with you Pamela Rebecca,” Karen said. “Not now, not ever.”

“If I take this to court, you'll never win. Ewing or not. An alcoholic and a heroin addict. That's a joke. Neither of you are fit to raise a goldfish, never mind a child. And once I do get her back, you will never see her again. I'll make sure of that…and then Christopher, you will know how it feels to have a child taken away from you.”

Christopher bit his lip. “I already do, thanks to you and your lies. Now get out of my house.”

Becky turned around and walked back out into the yard. “I promise, you haven't heard the last of this.”

Christopher nodded. “No, I'm sure I haven't, but if you'd like to talk to my lawyer I can give you his phone number.”

Becky opened the door to her car and sat down in it. “I'll let my lawyers do that.”

Christopher watched her drive off and then he went back in the house where he found Karen standing in the foyer. “I took Megan back upstairs. Oh God Christopher, if she takes this to court, we don't stand a chance. She's right. She'll use our pasts against us and they'll take Megan away so fast we won't know what hit us.”

“I know…but we don't have to worry about that, because this isn't going to find its way into a courtroom. Not if I can help it.”

Karen was perplexed, but she didn't like seeing this side of Christopher. “What do you have up your sleeve?”

“An insurance policy and a friend in a very high place…both courtesy of Melissa McSween.”

"Great seeing you both. Paul, you and I don't see enough of each other," he said with no enthusiasm as he settled into his chair behind the enormous desk. Alyssa walked over to his side, and sat on the edge of the desk.

"That's right, Jeremy. I don't get to see you until those meetings most of the time. I swear, the way that man runs the company…hell, I miss the days of Reaganomics, high oil prices, and Jeremy Wendell in the big chair at West Star!"

Wendell smirked at that and pushed forward a simple looking document. "This is how you can get me back in the big chair at West Star. I can't do anything about the Reaganomics, but between the President making Texans proud and the way oil is going up, I see it as an all around good situation for us all. Isn't that right, Alyssa?"

Alyssa smiled at him, and puckered her lips briefly as McKenna read the document, he quickly became alarmed. "Jeremy! This is a proxy! It says that if I sign it, I'll be off the Board!"

"Well, yes, Paul, it does."

"That isn't legal!"

"Oh, it's legal. You see, when little Christopher Ewing ran the company, he was a drunken loser. Drunken losers usually don't pay much attention to what they sign. I had a friend in legal slip him a document that gave me all kinds of cards up my sleeve. Like this one, for instance: Members of the West Star Board of Directors can sign their votes over through proxy, with the only stipulation being the proxy shall last no longer than one year."

"I won't do this!"

"Don't worry. I just need a year."

"Not that, you damn snake! I won't sign over to you."

"Paul, you never made President, did you?"

McKenna thought for a moment at what Wendell was getting to. "No. You know I didn't."

"Sign this, and as soon as I'm back as Chairman, I'll make sure you're the new President. I'm getting older, you know. I need strong hands to run the company day to day."

McKenna thought it over. This old snake was just hot air. He'd find a way to get West Star back, and then Paul McKenna would get rid of the old man, and he'd call the shots down at West Star.

He grabbed a pen. "It's a deal…I don't know what I'm going to do now, is all."

"Don't worry,” Wendell smiled sincerely, or so it seemed. "You'll be deciding how to decorate your office in no time at all." He stood up and shook Paul's hand. “I'm just glad that you're on my team. Boris! Show Mr. McKenna out."

McKenna turned and gave Wendell a thumbs-up sign. Wendell smiled and gave him the same gesture. As Boris shut the doors, Wendell's smile faded. "Moron."

He went over to kiss Alyssa and she wrapped her arms around him. "Jeremy, you are amazing! He bought it!"

"I'm not Bobby Ewing, am I? I don't need to be a boy scout to close a deal." He looked over the document. "Alyssa, my dear, now it's your turn." He produced an identical document and handed it to her.

Her face went from a large smile to a shocked look. "You don't trust me?"

"Of course I do. That's why I wanted to give you a visual aid that proves it." He reached into his pocket and handed her a jewelry case. She opened it and saw a large diamond engagement ring. She laughed excitedly and kissed him. "Don't you want to help me out, Mrs. Wendell?"

Alyssa laughed like a schoolgirl, and grabbed the papers and signed. "I love you!" she said warmly. He smiled at her and ran a hand down her cheek.

"I love you, Alyssa."

Wendell put the papers in his desk, and locked the drawer. He kissed her and knocked everything off the desk as she hit the lights. “And they say that a cubic zirconium can't fool a woman,” he thought as they proceeded to celebrate the engagement.

As he waited for her in the living room, he could hear her rattling around in the kitchen. She had insisted on making him coffee. “Do you take cream or sugar in your coffee, J.R.?” She called from the other room.

“No thank you, black is fine!” He shouted back. “Are you sure you don't need a hand with anything?”

“Listen, the day I can't make a decent cup of coffee is the day they can put me in the ground, as far as I'm concerned,” she said as she carried in a tray with two mugs on it.

J.R. took one of the mugs from her. “Thank you, I appreciate it,” he said.

“Well, I appreciate all the work you and Sue Anne did for me. I always knew Jock Ewing had nice boys...”

“Not a problem, it was no trouble,” J.R. said. “I was actually talking to Sue Ellen, and she thought that if you would consider it, Ewing Oil would be interested in purchasing Davis Gas for a more than fair price.”

The old woman seemed surprised. “What do you want with Davis Gas?” She asked, curiously.

“Not much, to be honest,” J.R. said. “But, we were thinking more along the lines of taking care of you. With no children of your own, and your husband gone... We could have nurses and servants here for you around the clock, taking care of everything...”

“If you're trying to sweet talk me,” she interrupted, “I suggest you don't mention nurses. I don't need nurses, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of my own self,” she argued.

Typical. He thought. “Well, at the very least, gardeners! They could spruce the place up...besides, you said yourself that those stations are nothing but a burden! To be perfectly frank, we found nothing wrong with the administration of the company  everything's solid  but why should you have to go through with the aggravation?”

“Well, yes...you're right about that,” she said. “But, I don't know...that's all I have left of Gordon's,” she said.

J.R. smiled, and put his arm on her shoulder. “We could get you back a lot more that was his.”

Her eyes twinkled. “You could? Like what?” She asked.

J.R. smiled. “Why don't you let me buy you lunch?”

“What do you want?” came Iris' voice from the other side of the door.

Gregor waved at the peephole. “We need to talk.”

“Tell Rex that if he wants to talk to me, he can come talk to me face-to-face instead of sending you to do it.”

“Listen Iris, I'm just trying to help you out, now can you let me in?” Gregor's voice came across as sounding very sincere. Sincere enough, in fact, that Iris opened the door. He smiled at her and walked in. She shut the door behind him.

“I don't have all day.”

“I'm sure you don't. A woman such as yourself must be very busy. Spending all this time alone in this apartment after losing Rex to a woman that you hate. Tragic, lemme tell you.”

“The only tragedy here is that I didn't rid myself of Rex sooner,” Iris said with contempt in her voice.

“Or is it that you didn't get rid of Afton sooner?” Gregor asked. There was something in his voice that made Iris very uneasy.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do I need to spell it out for you Iris? You're a smart lady, c'mon…”

Iris folded her arms against her chest. “Please do.”

“A plugged in radio, plus bath water, equals no more Afton. A tragic accident, yes indeedy, but what was so tragic was that you almost got out of the apartment without being seen. It would have been the perfect 'accident', but Mitch saw you and you had to off him. Suddenly that electrocution didn't seem to accidental when Mitch had a knife plunged deep in his back, now did it?”

“This is unbelievable. I don't know what kind of sick game Rex is playing, but tell him this is not going to work!”

Gregor feigned innocence. “We know you did it Iris…you know that nice little old lady that lives next door to Afton? Well…you don't know her, but she does know you. She saw you enter her apartment on the night of her murder.”

“You lying bastard.”

“Hey, don't shoot the messenger. I'm just here to offer my help and to let you know that it might be best to make your get-away before the police show up, which should be soon…”

“Where the hell is Rex? He was behind Afton's murder, not me. He even asked me to give him an alibi! Now he's trying to turn this around on me?”

“Like I said, you might want to try skipping town. You're a very rich woman. You have enough money to live the rest of your life on. Go back to Paris…”

Iris' was enraged. “Like hell. That's the last thing I'm going to do.” She grabbed her jacket off the hanger beside the door and stormed out of the room.

“Hey! Where're you going?” Gregor shouted after her.

“Where else? To see Rex.”

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