“It's a beautiful night.” Pam only nodded her head in agreement. Bobby turned her around to face him. “Are you okay?”

She tilted her head slightly. “Are you?”

“It's going to take a while for both of us, I suppose. I'm trying to concentrate on the good things.” He pulled her body closer to him. “Like having you home with me.”

Pam looked into his hazel eyes. There was a hint of Bobby's old boyish charm in his last statement and Pam found it comforting; a sign that perhaps things would be all right once again. She put her arms around him and leaned her cheek against his chest. “I'm glad to be home. It seems like I was in that hospital forever.”

“But you're home now.” Bobby pulled back slightly, causing Pam to look up at him. “… and soon we'll be touring the Orient.”

Pam smiled. “You're finally making good on that promise.”

“Which promise is that?”

“I'm finally getting a proper honeymoon.”

“Complete with exotic location and two children tagging along.”

“… and I only had to marry you three times to get it!” Pam tickled him in the ribs. Bobby tickled her back and tightened his grip so she couldn't wiggle free. They both fell into laughter.

As their laughter died away, their eyes locked and they kissed deeply. As their kiss ended, Bobby looked into her eyes. “I love you, Pam.”

They kissed again before Bobby took her hand and led her to their bed. There were open suitcases sitting there and Bobby quickly shoved them off. “I think we can finish packing in the morning.”

Pam went to him and they sunk down on the bed, locking out the troubles and pain of the world, if only for a while.

The four members of the family ate their breakfast quietly, soaking in the sounds of spring from the opened window, rather than engaging in conversation.

Donna looked over at the clock on the wall and she wiped her mouth and pushed away from the table. “I need to get going.”

“What about the cattle auction today?” Ray asked. “I thought we planned on going to that.”

Donna's face fell. “Oh, I forgot all about that, I'm sorry Ray. It's just that all of this stuff is going on down at city hall, with this project that half of Dallas is getting involved in. I have my work cut out for me if I intend to intervene.”

Ray nodded and hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “Okay then, I guess I can take somebody else. Lucas, how about you?”

Lucas shook his head. “Sorry Dad, you know ranching isn't my thing.”

“Margaret?” Ray asked.

“You know I'd love to, but I've got a political science club meeting this afternoon. Maybe some other time?”

“Sure, you bet. Well, I guess I'll get going then. The early bird always gets the worm at these cattle auctions, so I'll see the three of you tonight.” Ray stood up and left the three of them in the dining room. Donna followed him.

“Ray, I'm sorry. Really, I am. I completely forgot about the auction.”

“Don't worry about it.”

“You're not angry?”

“The old Ray might have been angry, but I respect you and what you do, so go show those oil companies who's boss.”

Donna smiled and kissed him. “Thanks, Cowboy.”

Pam was glad to be getting away for a while. She was still not fully recovered and she felt relieved at the prospect of getting away from Dallas. She wasn't allowed to lift anything too heavy yet, but, though Savannah was out of danger, she was still small extremely small. So Pamela held Savannah close as she stood in the foyer saying good-bye to Miss Ellie.

“Let me hold her, Pam.”

Pamela gently passed the sleeping bundle to Miss Ellie. “I hope she sleeps this well on the plane.”

Bobby walked in, trailed by the limo driver, who began to carry their luggage out to the car. “Pam, have you seen Gracie? She was here just a minute ago…”

Pam looked away from Ellie and Savannah. “She went up stairs to get her bear. I'll get her.”

Bobby waved her off. “No, you just work on getting yourself and Savannah to the car. I'll take care of Gracie.”

Ellie continued to coo over Savannah, “She's just beautiful, Pam.”

Pamela smiled and put her hand on Ellie's shoulder. “Miss Ellie, you know that all grandchildren are beautiful.”

Ellie smiled. “Well, I have to admit, that's true about the Ewing grandchildren. But there's something special about this one.”

“Could it be her middle name?” Pam smiled knowingly.

Ellie beamed. “Savannah Southworth. It's a lovely name. If I'd had a daughter…” Ellie suddenly went silent. She handed Savannah back to Pam. “But I suppose it's best that I didn't. The Ewing men are strong and that's a good thing. I'm not sure how a little girl would have faired.”

Pam smiled gently. “Oh Miss Ellie, you know Jock would have spoiled a little girl rotten, just like he did Lucy.”

Ellie's face clouded over for a minute, her mind flooded with memories of Jock and 'little Lucy'.

“I wonder what's keeping Bobby and Gracie…”

Pam's voice brought Ellie back to the present, but she still found herself staring down at the baby. Gracie and Savannah both represented a special connection to her past. Her and Jock's son and Digger's daughter had forever intertwined Barnes and Ewing.

A smiling blonde approached his table and asked if she could take his order. John Ross wasn't in the mood for anything solid, but a drink might calm his nerves. He gave the waitress his order and she disappeared beneath an archway overgrown with purple wisteria.

John Ross rested his chin on his hand and again he looked through the crowd until his eyes rested on a young couple, obviously very much in love. A memory flash reminded him that this was Pamela Rebecca's favorite restaurant and anger rose up inside of him at the very thought of her and all she had done to him.

"John Ross? Are you okay?"

"No I'm not. Pamela Rebecca, you are...I can't even find a word to describe you right now. Sickening. You are sickening. You let me believe for almost a year that Megan was my daughter, when all along, you knew she was Christopher's! You disgust me."

Pamela Rebecca was taken aback. "John Ross, Melissa was behind that. She lied just to hurt you. She's jealous of us!"

"God! Can't you EVER stop lying? Melissa played a tape of your conversation! You confessed on the tape! And you were STILL going to let me believe that Megan was mine!"

"A tape? Hell, she's a police officer. She has the resources to fake stuff like that..."

"STOP IT! You and I are through. I hate you Pamela Rebecca. We will NEVER even be friends again, let alone be in any kind of a relationship and as far as I'm concerned, I hope I NEVER see you again, so get the hell out of my sight. Better yet, why don't you just get the hell off Southfork."

Pamela Rebecca was crying. "Please. Please hear me out."

"NO! Dammit, I have heard enough from you! You've fed me lies since we met and I'm not listening to this anymore!"

From what John Ross gathered, she hadn't done anymore than send Cliff a postcard every now and then. Very strange indeed.

“Here's your drink sir.” The waitress set it on the table and John Ross thanked her. He glanced at his watch while taking a sip. 11:15. Where was this guy? He was fifteen minutes late and John Ross didn't appreciate being kept waiting. He'd waited long enough. The e-mail that he'd received yesterday had said 11 a.m. John Ross took another drink as someone approached his table from the side.

“John Ross. Hi.”

John Ross looked up and his eyes widened. Of all the rotten luck and bad coincidences that could have possibly happened on a day like this. He could think of a million people he'd rather have standing beside his table—Attila the Hun, Hitler, even the devil himself—anyone but… “Pamela Rebecca…”

“Becky.”

“Pamela Rebecca, Rebecca, Becky, Pamela, Pam, I don't give a damn.”

“I would have thought a year apart would mellow you out just a bit. I didn't think you'd still be angry with me.” Becky's voice was full of hurt.

“Oh, angry doesn't describe how I feel about you and all you did to me. If you hadn't left town when you did, I would have probably killed you.”

Becky pulled out a chair. “Mind if I have a seat?”

John Ross nodded. “You know, actually I do mind, because I'm meeting somebody here today and I don't have time to waste talking to the likes of you.”

“You don't want to hear what I have to say?”

“I'd love to hear about the people you manipulated and ruined while you were away from Dallas, but I don't think I could handle that on an empty stomach.” John Ross paused for a moment. “Tell you what, if you like this table so much, I'll just move to another one. No harm done.”

“No, we have to talk.”

“There's only one person I have to talk to right now and it's not you!” John Ross snapped.

“Skyrider.”

“What? How did you know that?” John Ross stared at her, but she didn't answer. “How did you know I'm here to talk to 'Skyrider'?”

“Because I am Skyrider.”

“That's bullshit.”

Becky shook her head. “Skyrider was my horse's name, remember? My favorite horse. I used that when I took out the e-mail address. I had us meet at my favorite restaurant. What more proof do you need?”

“What are you trying to pull? Did you not cause enough grief for me already? I thought this was going to be about Melissa…”

Pamela Rebecca smiled and leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table. “Oh, this is about Melissa.”

Behind the mansion was a series of smaller buildings that were nicely built and matched the design patterns of the mansion. One of which was nicknamed The Vault, and that was where Wendell had asked Kaitlin to meet him.

She rounded the corner and looked into the main room, which was Jeremy Wendell's pride and joy. This was where he kept his antique cars.

"Daddy?” Kaitlin called. She heard a slight echo. "Daddy!" she repeated.

"In here, Kaitlin!" came Wendell's voice from around the bend. Kaitlin walked to where her father was carefully shining a bright orange car. He turned around and gave her a large smile. "Do you like it?"

Kaitlin laughed, "It's the color of orange Kool-aid! How could I like it?"

Wendell looked her over. "I'd think a woman with your taste in men wouldn't have the bad common sense to mock my good taste in rarities." Kaitlin started to reply, only to be cut off by Wendell. "This car is an antique 1948 Tucker Torpedo. They only made fifty of these cars. I agree, the color is a tad unique, but it's special to me. It was one of the first cars to have seat belts and it could go 130 miles an hour. Motor was in the back, too. The car was ahead of its time and the large motor companies put the man who made it out of business. They put him out of business because he was going to be a threat and because he could cause them serious damage." Wendell walked from the car and washed his hands in the nearby sink.

"It seems to me that you've been putting people out of business for years,” Kaitlin said to Jeremy's back.

Wendell didn't look up. "That's why I asked you here. That, and lunch."

Kaitlin and Wendell walked to the poolside gazebo, making small talk. When they sat down, Jeremy handed her some photographs of Rex Wentworth and Afton Cooper. They were in public, in what looked to be a passionate embrace.

"I assume this is what Wentworth did that set you off?"

Kaitlin simmered. "How dare you show me these."

"I don't feel that you're being fair to me right now. I raised you--"

"No, Daddy, you didn't! I was raised by tutors and anyone else you could get, because you were always trying to make President of the company! Then you made it, and tried to buy this company, or that company…"

Wendell's trademark smirk flickered at her large grin. She was so much like Kristin Shepard in her sarcastic smiles and in her ranting. Jeremy Wendell thanked his lucky stars that Kaitlin wasn't as ruthless and power hungry as she was.

"Ewing Oil? How many times did you try to break Ewing Oil? You didn't give a damn about me, or about Robert! All we were to you were toys." She stared at him until he replied.

"Are you done? Good. I loved your brother and I was sadder than anyone when he died. I was sorry when I had to leave you as children Katie, you know me better than anyone. I'm a changed man. I want you to be happy and that's why I don't want you with Wentworth." Wendell got up to put his arms around her. Kaitlin didn't move.

"What about West Star?"

"What about it?"

"Don't try to con me,” she said as she pushed him off. "If there's one thing I know, it's that Jeremy Wendell won't let anyone run that company but him."

Wendell's face was a mask of fury. "Kaitlin. Wentworth conned you out of your stock in the company! He isn't a man to be trusted. Throw in with me and we can destroy him. Pay him back for his antics with this--lounge singer!" Wendell sneered at the picture of Afton and at the words as though she repulsed him.

"Nice pitch. No sale." Kaitlin said evenly. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I love you. And I want us to be closer. But you want West Star back and I don't trust you. I won't help you," she said as she picked up her purse, "OR that lying bastard Rex Wentworth. Let's do lunch next week."

Wendell stared at her as she walked away. He waved at her with a large smile that seemed sincere as she got into her car. She blew him a kiss. As she drove off, his face contorted. Damn that daughter of his! Time for Plan B.

He grabbed the cordless phone and dialed. "It's me. Come down here and bring McKenna with you. Three sharp."

Rex was going over some papers as the intercom buzzed. "Yes, Angelica?"

"Mr. Wentworth, Mister, uh…Mr. Gregor is here for you."

Rex smiled. How many people knew Gregor's last name? Not many.

Angelica issued Gregor in and Rex motioned for him to sit in one of the large plush chairs facing the desk. Gregor looked around the office and let out a slow whistle. "Rex, your office is amazing. Look at that view! I mean…”

"Gregor, I just had a barrage of idiotic comments like that thrown at me. Let's cut to the chase. I have a number of things I want done and since you're my right hand man I want you to handle them."

Gregor's dark eyes gleamed. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, first off, what are the chances of anyone ever finding out about our link to Farlow's death? I am aware that it's been some time, but I want to make sure of this before anything else."

Gregor smiled his toothy grin and straightened his tie. "That little bit of business wrapped up nicely. That fool Urbanski won't be telling anyone and Ewing hasn't the proof to link us to it."

Rex looked him over. Anyone else would have said that out of cockiness, but Gregor always had a great record of covering his tracks. That news pleased him.

"Good. Now, the second bit of business. The Petrol contract. I have an agreement between Cliff Barnes' company, The Clifford Group and it's due to close very soon. Very soon, as some of the oil was delivered by that idiot's bastard son."

Gregor nodded. "You want to know the status of the deal?"

Rex nodded solemnly. "With Barnes out of the picture, my poor sister,” he looked to a picture of Katherine Wentworth on his desk, "My poor sister will be smiling, wherever she is. Also," Rex's eyes focused on Gregor's again, "my new company will have made a very big transaction that's going to make the stock prices soar."

Gregor nodded. "Yes, the deal is still set to close unless Barnes comes up with a large amount of oil, and quick. I was talking to your European lawyers and they tell me that it is still set to close, as planned."

Rex smiled. "Good, because I want to transfer the deal to West Star. I have all the papers right here. I want all of my European energy companies transferred to West Star. This way, maybe that damned Board will consider me a little more trustworthy."

"Isn't that risky?" Gregor ventured.

"Not at all. I own 41% of West Star, which is far more than anyone else. This way, I have everything in one house and I don't need to make calls to Europe all the time. Just have these looked over by my lawyers in France and I'll be set."

Gregor was jotting this down on a small pad. He then got up.

"Gregor, what are you doing? I need one more thing done. Sit."

Gregor sat and looked at his employer.

"I want a complete investigation of Jeremy Wendell, all members of the current West Star board of directors, and I want to know who owns what amounts of stock. Also, give me an update on JR Ewing's financial position."

Gregor waited to be dismissed. Rex got back to his paperwork, and waved him away. Rex turned to his panoramic view of Dallas and looked to the Ewing Oil building. “Because soon, J.R., the only position you'll be in is beneath my shoes.”

The intercom buzzed. "Mister Wentworth? I received a call from Dallas Police. Hope Miller asks that you return her call."

Rex gritted his teeth. Something had to be done about Afton, and quickly. Rex looked to his small cluster of desk pictures and a hideous idea began to form. “Gregor!” he shouted. Gregor stopped in his tracks and turned around. “Just one more thing.”

Eric paced the room. “There has to be something I can do…some way to get the oil that TCG needs to meet those conditions of Cliff's contract with Wentworth. Something…”

“I know you want to help Cliff so you can get back in his good graces, but it's not worth all of this headache. Cliff's approval is hardly worth all of this worry.”

Eric looked at his mother. “See, it's not just about that. I want to prove it to myself that I can pull a company like TCG out of a rut like this…if for nothing more than to shut Rex Wentworth up.”

“What about that research center in Hawaii?”

Eric scratched his chin. “That place has been shut down for years. I'm sure they took anything valuable with them to another location.”

“Are you sure about that?” Marilee asked. “Cliff's not the brightest man alive. He's also impulsive. If he thought that research center wasn't helping the company, he might have shut it down with a moment's notice.”

“There could be something there, I suppose. But on the other hand, it could be a wild goose chase.”

Marilee nodded. “Yes, it could be that. But if you really want to save the Clifford Group, then maybe it's a chance you need to take.”

“I know a lot of stuff. A lot of stuff that you should know too.”

“Like what?”

“Like how she had me leave Dallas against my will. How she threatened to ruin me and have me arrested if I didn't leave town…if I didn't leave my precious baby here with Christopher and Karen.” The very thought of being away from Megan for so long caused a flood of tears to run down Becky's face. She fished through her purse for a tissue which she used to blot them away. “I lived in Boston for over a year, afraid to come back to town for fear of what bogus charges she might have brought against me. I know how powerful she is…how much clout she has being Harry McSween's niece. I only came back this time for my mother's funeral…and because I'm sick of hiding. I'm going to make that bitch pay for every day I had to spend away from the people I love.”

John Ross shook his head. “This is unbelievable. You really should have more respect for the dead.”

Becky was puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that Melissa is dead! Don't act like you don't know! You probably orchestrated the whole accident!”

“Accident?” Now it was Becky's turn to be thrown for a loop.

“The jet she was on exploded. Melissa and my son are both dead!”

Becky couldn't believe she'd been hiding from a dead woman for the past year. Dead women told no tales. “I'm sorry to hear that John Ross, especially about your son, but it doesn't change the fact that Melissa was a lying, conniving, bitch.”

John Ross shoved the table back and stood up. “I'm not listening to anymore of your lies.”

“It's the truth! You have to believe me.”

John Ross shook his head in disgust. “That was my first mistake and I will never make that one again.” John Ross began to walk away, but stopped in mid-step. “And don't try to take Megan away from Christopher and Karen. If I hear that you're causing them any trouble, then going to jail will be the least of your worries.”

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