No sooner than Pam had done this, a Chinese woman in her late 40s bumped into her, sending her shopping bag flying to the ground. The woman only briefly hesitated and flashed Pam an apologetic look, but it was obvious her attention was focused on the person on the opposite end of her cell phone.

“She was sure in a hurry,” Bobby remarked as he stooped over to help Pam pick up the bag's scattered contents.

The woman continued around the corner and she began to speak into the phone in broken English. “I am not sure I understand…is he going to be well?”

“No Adrienne, I'm afraid your father isn't going to be…well,” came an amiable voice from the phone. He definitely didn't want to upset her, but he didn't think it could be avoided.

“Oh no, this is terrible news,” Adrienne whispered into the phone, her voice barely audible. She rounded the corner, almost running into another woman. “Is he…is he killed?”

“No, not killed Adrienne. Killed is when someone else takes one's life, like with a gun or a knife. Your father had a heart attack…his heart just…his heart just stopped working. I'm sorry…he's dead.”

Tears began to stream down Adrienne's face and she fished in her purse for a tissue to wipe them away. “Uncle Oscar, please tell me that this is a…a joke.”

“No, I'm afraid not. Cal was found dead at a place called Southfork Ranch in Braddock, Texas.”

Adrienne located a bench to sit on and she took a seat and crossed her legs. “I need to travel to Dallas, I think.”

“Of course. Don't worry about a thing, I'll make all of the arrangements and then I'll call you back and let you know what to do.”

“Thank you, goodbye Uncle Oscar.”

“Goodbye. Take care Adrienne.”

Adrienne flipped the phone shut and blotted away more tears. It was strange how a man she barely even knew could affect her in this way. She knew she couldn't spend the rest of the day crying; there would be lots of packing to do and then a plane to catch. Today was going to be a busy day for Adrienne Ling-Stackhouse.

She sat up and motioned for him to come over and reluctantly, he did.

“I take it you enjoyed yourself last night Manny,” she said coldly.

“Margaret is a nice girl.”

“I can tell you think so.”

“But we're just friends and that's all we'll ever be.” Manny put his hedge shears on the table next to Jillian and sat down next to her. “What about you and Eric? I didn't even know you two really knew each other.”

Jillian looked at Manny's face and replayed his voice through her head. If he was jealous about that, he definitely wasn't letting it show. “I haven't known him that long. What happened last night just kinda happened.”

“Margaret wants us to do some more stuff together.”

Jillian spurted out the next few words without thinking. “Well I don't want you to do anything else with Margaret.”

“Why not? You set us up to begin with.”

“And it was the most stupid thing I've ever done. I regretted it all last night.” She couldn't believe it. She had just admitted that she was jealous.

“Why do you feel that way?”

“Because…” Jillian hesitated and didn't know whether she should say what was on her mind. Finally, she decided she should. “Because I have feelings for you Manny. I have for a long time and I think you know that. I've as much as told you before. It just took seeing you with Margaret last night to make me realize that even more.”

Manny didn't know what to say to Jillian in this situation. “Jill…” he muttered, but before he could finish, she had leaned forward and kissed him. JR watched from the inside of the house.

“There's something I need to tell you Jillian. Why don't you sit down.”

Jillian shook her head. “No thanks, that's okay. I'll stand up.”

“Suit yourself.” JR wasn't sure how to break this to Jillian, but he knew she'd take it hard, given her feelings for Sue Ellen. Finally, he decided just to come out with it. “Last night I proposed to Sue Ellen.”

“You what?” Jillian asked. She couldn't believe this!

“I asked her to marry me.”

“Oh my God, that is so…I can't believe you're falling for her again! What are you thinking! Tell me she said no.”

“She said yes and I couldn't be more happy about anything and I wish you'd feel the same, Jill.”

“Well I don't! And I just hope that one or both of you come to your senses before you make a big mistake!”

“Now wait a minute, you don't even know Sue Ellen and never even gave her a chance.”

“I don't need to hear anymore of this, but in case you haven't figured it out from this conversation, you do not have my blessing!”

JR shook his head as Jillian left the room. He felt like he could handle any business deal, any oil business related problem that was hurled his way, and now he felt like he had figured out Sue Ellen, but raising a teenaged daughter was a complete mystery to him. Something told him she wouldn't come around either.

Everything was quiet on this morning after the barbecue, perhaps almost too quiet. After everything settled down last night, the family had finally heard Sue Ellen's answer to J.R.'s question, and each person had reacted in their own way. By the time that she went to look in on the Sawyers, Helen was sound asleep, and Amelia was rocking Diana. A sense of peace existed at Southfork last night, Ellie mused as she took another sip of her coffee.

Before coming out to the patio for breakfast, she had had a brief conversation with Pam, who reported that she and Bobby were still traveling, “somewhere in the Orient.” Ellie had briefly told Pam about the happenings at the barbecue, but she didn't get to share a lot of details. Pam told Ellie that Bobby had a surprise outing planned for that evening, and so she was going to have to go. It bothered Miss Ellie that Pam and Bobby weren't present at the barbecue, but she knew better than anyone that time away to cope with their loss and their grief. She knew that they would come home when the time was right for them.

“Momma?”

Ellie turned to see J.R. coming through the sliding glass door out onto the patio.

“Good morning, J.R.”

“Morning, momma. Looked like you were lost to the world for a second.”

“I suppose I was,” she replied. “Just reflecting on what a success this year's barbecue turned out to be. Except for the unfortunate death of Mr. Stackhouse, it was really a rather calm year.”

“And a successful one,” J.R. said as he remembered Sue Ellen's answer.

“Yes. I convinced Wade to bring his family here to stay while they rebuild her home.”

“I've been meanin' to talk to you about that,” he said as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“What is there to talk about, J.R.? Helen is my niece, and she needs a place to stay.”

“I reckon she does,” he said quickly, “but the Ewings could've put her up at the Fairview or somethin'.”

“That's ridiculous!,” Ellie snapped. “She's family. If there's one thing I thought you'd learn over the years is that any member of this family always has a right to be here.”

“I'm not disputing that, Momma,” J.R. answered. “But even you said yourself late last night that her sudden change in attitude toward this family surprised you.”

“It did, J.R., but I've gotten to a point in my life where very little shocks me any more.”

“It just worries me that she has an agenda of some kind.”

Ellie scowled. “J.R., this isn't Ewing Oil! Not everyone is full of secrets and the ability to hurt other people.”

“I hope you're right, momma, I hope you're right.”

J.R. placed his brown Stetson on his head and leaned over to kiss his mother on the cheek. As she heard his car pull out of the drive, she shook her head, not wanting for a minute to give J.R.'s concerns about Helen any mind.

“Is this Sly Lovegren?”

“Yes,” Sly answered cautiously.

“A florist is on the way up with a delivery for you, ma'am. I suggest you assist him with the door. Coming in, he could barely see in front of him, the bouquet was so large.”

“Thank you for calling,” Sly responded. She put down the phone, and got to Ewing Oil's front door just in time to see the florist. His face was blocked. Sly assisted him with the door, and let out a scream of delight when he placed the large arrangement on her desk.”

“Wade Sawyer!”

“Florist at your service, ma'am,” he replied.

The two broke into laughter.

“What on Earth are these for?”

“To make up for my ignoring you.”

“I told you yesterday,” Sly replied, “that I understand your need to be away.”

She leaned in and kissed him gently on the cheek.

“They are beautiful.”

“Not as much as you,” Wade replied, knowing it sounded corny.

Sly blushed so slightly. “Will you be in town around noon?”

“I doubt it,” the cowboy replied. “I've got to go back to the Ranch and have a talk with my mother.”

“Why? Has something else happened?” Sly asked.

“It's just that something changed yesterday. My mama's whole attitude toward the Ewings.”

“J.R. has said for years that attending one Ewing barbecue can do wonders for people not used to Dallas.”

“This was different, Sly. It's almost like something snapped in her, and she became a different person when she walked onto the driveway at Southfork. The truth is, it scares me.”

What Wade didn't know at that moment, and might never know, was that J.R., who was even more against the move than Wade, had the exact same feelings. If only the two men would have talked to each other, would they have found a solution to the sudden change in Helen?

"Damn, this is nice!" he said to himself. Vaughn leaned back, and smiled a large contented grin as he closed his eyes. "Good job, back in Dallas, and I get to settle some old scores. Doesn't get much better than this!"

As Vaughn sat there, he remembered his appointment with Jeremy Wendell in about five minutes. This was going to be good. He hit the intercom toggle on his desk.

"Say, partner. I'm meeting with you-know-who pretty soon. You sure this'll work like you think?"

There was a silence. The man at the other end was musing. "You just do what I tell you to. Play it like I said, but keep the intercom on so I can hear."

"You got it!" Vaughn happily replied.

Just then, a buzzing went off. "Mr. Leland? Jeremy Wendell is here to see you."

"Fine, fine! You just send that man in.", Vaughn answered and hit the toggle to his partner.

Vaughn's secretary opened the door, and Jeremy Wendell came in.

"Jeremy! How are you? That'll be all, darlin'!"

"Vaughn. It's a pleasure to see you. Especially…where I'm seeing you." The two men shook hands, and Vaughn patted Jeremy on the back.

The two caught up a little, and Vaughn heard about Jeremy's past few years.

"Prison? What was that like, Jeremy?" Vaughn was the picture of worry and compassion for his friend.

"Oh, not all that bad. I was in a minimum-security prison. Mainly crooked accountants and land developers. But you know, I've done well for myself again."

Vaughn's face shifted to his oily grin again. "Good, good. That's why I call you here. I don't know if you've followed my dealin's lately…."

Wendell laughed. "Actually…no. Vaughn, it seems you vanished off everyone's radar after Barnes hit Gold Canyon 340. Then you showed up again in 1993, as a major player in the European Investment business."

Vaughn's eyes didn't betray his thoughts. The oily grin that one associated with Leland didn't fade, either.

"Well, you know what they say. A man needs his secrets. Say, whatever happened to that…Davis? Man who started Weststar?"

Wendell looked away, and then back to Vaughn. "Point taken."

"Anyway, let's don't get off on the wrong foot. I have a business proposal for you, now that you're top dog at Weststar again. I know that you own a massive amount of stock, and that one man owns nearly half of the company. How would you like to fix all that?"

"Fix Wentworth? You aren't talking about…?"

"No, lord no! I mean…what if…we could make his stock disappear?"

Wendell didn't swallow or blink. This could be the way to get rid of that European interloper once and for all.

"Go on."

"Jeremy, what would you say if I told you…my firm controls a vast amount of Weststar stock?"

Wendell pulled a copy of the shareholder's report for 2001 from his pocket and tossed it onto the other man's desk.

"I know. I also know the stock is split so thinly right now, every major shareholder is someone I want backing me. Let's cut to the chase. You manage stock and investments for clients. Some of those clients own Weststar stock. That makes up 23% of the company's stock."

"That's about right. Let me run this one by you. I say that we greenmail Wentworth."

Wendell's eyes lit up at that. Greenmail Wentworth? That would mean that Weststar as a company would buy his stock back, and almost 41% of the stock would be out of circulation.

"That would make our percentages larger, wouldn't it, Jeremy?"

Wendell's face grew a strange expression that turned into a very calculating smile.

"Extremely larger. And it would make the prices soar so that no one would ever be able to take us over without very heavy funding. The problem is that buying out Wentworth could cost us billions."

"That's true, yes. So that's why I have a plan for you. Morningstar Investments", Vaughn gestured outward to his office with a large grin, "would be more than happy to loan the cash to Weststar oil. We see it as a sure thing. The stock prices soar, the more money we take from commission, and we'd even ask low interest on the loan, and don't care about time constraints."

Wendell's mind clicked in warning. "What's the catch, Vaughn?"

"I want it in writing that I can be on the Board, with the power to name two more directors."

"That'd be a change from who I have now, I suppose. All right, Vaughn. I'll have the papers drawn, and it looks like Mr. Wentworth is about to retire", Wendell said as he rose.

Vaughn stood and laughed a friendly laugh that turned into a harsh cough. He started to bend down towards the desk. Wendell watched him as his body racked with coughs.

Can't let the deal collapse, Jeremy, he thought to himself. "Vaughn, are you all right?" He managed to say in a sincere tone.

Vaughn looked up. "Fine, fine. Get me some water, will you?"

Wendell got the water from the bar, and handed it to Leland, who drank greedily.

"Are you all right now?"

"Fit as a fiddle!" the other man mustered. "Now…what do you say we sign those papers by Monday?"

"Sounds good, Vaughn.", Jeremy said with a firm handshake. "What do you say we have lunch soon?"

"I can't wait. Make an appointment with my secretary, boy."

The two men nodded with smiles at one another, and Jeremy walked out the door. As Vaughn leaned back into his chair again, he waited for the signal.

The intercom buzzed. "Sir? George at the desk says that Mr. Wendell has left the building."

Vaughn grinned. "Guess the coast is clear.", he said to his partner through their secret connection.

The door opened, and the man went over to the bar.

"Went good, didn't it?"

"Yes, indeed. I have to tell you, us being in these offices is really going to throw him off."

He walked over to the balcony, and saw Wendell's jet-black limo on the street. He smiled.

"Gotcha, Wendell", JR Ewing looked down at his enemy with a smile. He looked to the sky as Wendell's limo sped away. "This is for you, daddy. I'll never let that bastard get me down."

Val looked from his face to the stack of typed papers he held in his hand. “Cliff, I know that you aren't always the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but I'm pretty sure you know that you're holding your biography.”

Cliff laughed. “I don't believe this…as a matter of fact, this is unbelievable.” He was frustrated beyond belief. Cliff had only read just a few pages and already he was regretting having Val write this. “You make me look like some kind of…clown!”

Val ran her hand through her blonde hair. “Well, like they say, if the shoe fits…and in this case, it's a clown shoe.”

“This isn't accurate. This is ridiculous.”

Val was getting offended. This was what she considered some of her best work—an accurate portrayal of Cliff Barnes. Of course she knew he'd be offended by it. Men like Cliff Barnes always were when someone called them on their shortcomings or showed them their own reflection with no rose-colored slant. “You know what Cliff? This is ridiculous. I slaved over this book for over a year now and trust me, you aren't the most interesting subject to write about, but I think it turned out good.”

“Well I don't.”

“You haven't even read all of the first chapter! Okay Cliff, you know what? I quit. Val yanked the manuscript out of his hands and stuffed it under one of her arms. You aren't worth another minute of my time.” Val turned around and stormed out the door, leaving Cliff alone to contemplate the idea of an autobiography.

Val slammed open the door and found herself face to face with Eric Stone. “Hi Val, what's wrong?” he asked, seeing the angry scowl on her face.

“Your daddy is the most pathetic man alive on earth today and if you know what's good for you, you'll keep far away from him before it rubs off on you!”

As she brushed past him, Eric noticed what could only be Cliff Barnes: The Untold Story tucked under her arm. He smiled as an idea formulated in his head. He'd have time to flesh it out later, but for now, he had something to discuss with Cliff. Then there was also the slight chance that he wouldn't even need the plan.

“Oh great, what do you want?” Cliff asked when Eric walked into the room.

“I had some good news I wanted to share with you.”

“I could stand to hear some, but something tells me I don't want to hear what you have to say.”

Eric smiled. No, he probably didn't. “I made a little trip out to Arizona last week and I spent the day talking to Jack Ewing.”

“I didn't know you knew Jack.”

“Well, I didn't, which I guess worked to my advantage when I asked him to sell his 4% of the Clifford Group.”

That got Cliff's attention. “What?”

“And he sold it. Can you believe that? So here I am with this nice chunk of your company and I…”

“And it won't do you a bit of good. Don't think you're going to weasel your way back into the company after what you pulled with that spy and my sister.”

Eric sighed. “You know that I was just trying to pull your ass out of that Rex Wentworth deal that only an idiot would get himself into.”

“Hey, watch your mouth!”

“It's true.”

Cliff knew it had been a stupid thing to get himself into, but he hadn't given it much thought before he'd signed on. Thankfully now he was in the clear. “I don't care. You're not getting back into my company; it'd be like having JR around. I'd spent all my time making sure you weren't getting us into some illegal deal or doing something crazy.”

“You need me.”

“Ha! Like I need a hole in the head.” Cliff turned his back on Eric and grabbed his briefcase off the kitchen table. “I'm going into the office. Lock the door when you leave.”

Eric folded his arms and watched Cliff head outside. Yes, he would definitely need that plan after all.

He looked over to where the Morningstar tower was, and thought back…to 1987.

This isn't your building anymore. It's my building.

What-no. It was sold to a…

…Posner realty? A little subsidiary of mine.

Wendell smirked.

It was you? You sicced the Justice Department on me?

I warned you not to cross me.

I'll get back at you, Wendell. If it takes me the rest of my life.

More threats. You'll get out now, and take this eyesore with you.

Wendell had reached for the picture of Jock Ewing.

Wendell! You touch that picture again...and I'll kill you where you stand.

That was the last time Wendell had ever been in fear of a man. JR's look that day was terrifying. He held the picture of Jock in front of John Ross. John Ross? THIS is Ewing Oil.

Wendell had spent the past few years forgetting how fierce an opponent JR was. Was he behind Vaughn Leland?

He decided to call in some favors in Europe. For much of the morning, Wendell called old friends in Europe, and financial services. It turned out that Morningstar Investments was founded in the early 90s, and that Vaughn Leland did a spotless job of running it.

They specialized in building large financial deals, and acquiring stakes in energy companies. Wendell liked the idea of doing business with them the more that he researched the company. It turned out that Vaughn had never defaulted on a deal while with Morningstar, and the company was rock solid.

Wendell called Washington.

"Commerce Department, how can I direct your call?" the bubbly voice came.

"Extension 2317. Jeremy Wendell calling."

"Very good sir!" the friendly voice replied.

"This is Undersecretary Philips."

"Bill! Jeremy Wendell here."

"Jeremy! How've you been?"

"Good, good. Say, I was wondering if you could tell me if the Commerce Department knows anything about a European company called Morningstar Investments."

"Well, usually we do keep track of big foreign companies. I can call in the file right now. Hang on."

"All right. So while we're waiting, how are the wife and kids?"

"Oh, you know how it is, Jeremy! I'm a grandpa now."

"My my! And to think I remember the man who was Texas State University's most eligible bachelor."

"Ha ha. I guess things change. Say, how are Robert and Katie?"

"Robert? Oh…he passed away."

"Oh God, Jeremy, I'm sorry."

Wendell took a second to regain his cool. "It's all right. You didn't know."

"Well...I just got the file. I'm looking it over now…looks pretty solid. I can have a copy sent down to you by tomorrow. Just make sure you destroy it."

"Thanks, old friend. You're a life saver."

"You know it, Jeremy. Stay in touch, all right?"

Jeremy said goodbye and hung up.

"Well, if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is", Wendell mused out loud. "Still, pending a check on the file and on the contract, it's a way to get rid of Wentworth. And Vaughn always did have his…weaknesses. I'm sure he can play ball. Especially if he knows I'm the one who calls the shots around here."

That's when the idea hit Wendell.

He punched the button on his intercom for his secretary.

"Get the Chief of Company Security up here."

Wendell, in his first run as Chairman, had set up several company employees that did off the record work. One of these was a Chief of Company Security. The man had no real department, but his job was to report directly to Jeremy Wendell.

A man in a black suit and tie came in.

"You wanted me, sir?"

A former Green Beret, private detective, and bodyguard, this man was Wendell's first appointment as the new Chairman.

"Yes, Masters. I want you to look into Rex Wentworth. Find me everything on him. Also, look into a man who works for him. Gregory or something like that."

"Yes sir."

He walked to the doors.

"Wait, Masters! Take this file."

Wendell took a key from his pocket, and opened a drawer in his desk. It was full of manila folders. He took the one on top labeled Carter McKay.

"Here. Release this to the press."

Masters nodded. "Yes sir."

Wendell was alone again. "Oh yes. With Wentworth gone…and about to be forgotten…McKay in jail….", he smiled at these thoughts, and looked to the Ewing Oil building.

"…That just leaves you, JR. Guinea is going to be where you fall. Count on it. And then I'm using that picture of your daddy as firewood."

“She must have gotten hurt yesterday,” Eve thought to herself. She didn't go to the Ewing Bar-B-Que with Chris and Karen, and hadn't heard anything about what had gone on.

Wonder if she has any bruises...

"Last time I try to prove how good I am in a saddle." Karen mumbled to herself.

Stepping into the kitchen, Eve spoke, "Bronking buck a little too broncking for you, Mrs. Ewing?"

Karen jumped slightly, winced in pain, and looked up, nearly spilling her full coffee cup all over the counter in the process. Karen took a breath and regrouped.

"Oh, Eve! I didn't see you there."

"I'm easy to miss." Eve replied coolly, trying to keep her gaze even with Karen.

"Don't say that Eve. But, yes, there was just a tad too much 'bronking buck' for me, I'm afraid."

"Well, you should just go hop your little self in the shower while I get everything ready for breakfast. Take your time. A long, hot shower will do your sore muscles some good and it's a great way to begin your day. I'll get everything ready for Chris and the kids."

"Are you sure? The kids can be quite a handful first thing in the morning."

"Oh don't worry about that. I've been working here for how long now?"

Eve had been working for Chris and Karen for a number of weeks. Chris had hired her to be their housekeeper/nanny, ever grateful to her after she had safely returned Megan to him last summer when she had wandered away at the water park.

”Besides, Christopher will be here to help me."

Smiling Karen said, "Christopher is one of the kids I was referring to."

Eve chuckled, stepped forward and placed her hands on Karen's shoulders, and using a tad more force than necessary, spun her around and pushed her towards the doorway.

"I said don't worry. I've got everything under control. Now scoot."

"All right. You win." Karen said as she exited the kitchen, coffee cup in hand. "Just take good care of my brood."

"Don't you worry." Eve called after Karen. She waited until Karen was out of sight and said, "I intend to take very good care of them."

"…. 'And so, I feel that Weststar's new oil reserves would lead to increased revenues, and hope that your Board of Directors'…underline 'hope', "Will follow your suggestions regarding my proposal. Sincerely….', and so forth, and so forth."

Wendell's secretary, Cynthia, nodded. "Got it, sir."

Just then, the double doors to Wendell's office flew open. Masters, who Wendell had sent out a few days previously, was thrown onto the ground. Gregor, Rex's henchman, followed.

"Wendell," he said, "I don't appreciate you sending flunkies to track me down."

Wendell smirked. "Leave us, Cynthia. And tell Alyssa we're still on for lunch."

Masters was struggling to get up, and Gregor knocked him back down. "I wouldn't count on that. Why did you send this amateur after me?"

"Well, Gregor…I'm shocked he found you. You're someone who Weststar is interested in taking in as an employee."

"Why is that, Wendell? I think you know who I work for."

"Who, the man in the plastic bubble? No, Gregor. I think you know where that's headed."

Wendell looked to Masters, who had managed to get to his knees. "Masters. Get the Hell out of my office. And I suggest you forget you ever worked for me."

Gregor stood closer to Wendell. "What do you want?"

"My, you're impatient, Gregor. I want you to come to work for me. Your employer is done. Why don't you join the winning side?"

Gregor mulled it over for a second. "I guess you know that I don't come cheap."

"Oh, I know you're good at what you do. I've known for some time. I just knew that sending Masters after you would bring you here. I know a lot of things."

"I'm sick of this, Wendell. Get to the point."

"Four words: Clayton. Farlow. Bobby. Ewing. How does that sum things up?"

Gregor was astonished. "You know?"

Wendell laughed. "Of course I know. And I know your involvement. So, providing you like my benefits, why not come to work for me? I'll give you something with rank, privilege, and you'd report only to me. Much like you work for Wentworth."

"How do you know that I won't tell Rex this?"

"Gregor, you aren't a stupid man. The Ewings are going to put him in jail, or Iris will finish him off. I also know about your involvement with that, by the way."

Gregor got menacingly close, and grabbed Wendell by his Hugo Boss tie. "I think you might be a dead man if you aren't careful. Now tell me. How do you know what you know?"

"Well, Masters was always useful as an informant. He just didn't seem to avoid the nerve blow you gave him. Besides, he isn't AS useful as you are to me."

"What do I have that you want?"

"Gregor, what makes men powerful? What makes the world work? What powers power?"

Gregor bowed his head. "Information." He loosed his grip on the other man's tie.

"That's right. I want you to write up everything you know about Rex Wentworth. Everything. Take as long as you need. You're going to write it all up, and my people are going to go over it. And then you're going to send it to Ewing Oil, care of JR Ewing."

Gregor was confused. "Why him? Isn't JR your enemy?"

"You might call him that. But…as I often tell people…the secret to power is pitting your enemies against each other. And with your information…JR will do what he always does. He'll break Wentworth…and then he'll get cocky. And JR Ewing's greatest weakness is that when he thinks he's invincible, he lets his guard down. And after this? He'll think he's bulletproof."

Gregor nodded. "Well, I guess you have a point there. So what's my first act as your right hand man?"

Jeremy pushed a button on his intercom, and told his secretary to send the men up.

"You didn't listen? You're going to go into a room with ten men in it. Then you're going to write up everything you ever did for Wentworth. Then it's going to be sent for you to Ewing Oil."

"Won't that make me a target for the police? For Rex?"

"Gregor, trust me. I can make things disappear." He smiled as the men appeared, and escorted Gregor out.

"Like Rex Wentworth's peace of mind."

“…and ever since Rex was shot…daddy took over Weststar, and he's seized all the power in the company. The board is a lot weaker now. Some people have even suggested that the Board was behind Rex's shooting, to raise stock prices!” Kaitlin related.

Sue Ellen sipped her drink and smiled. “Kaitlin, I'm so glad that we decided to have lunch together. We need to do this a lot more often!”

Kaitlin warmly smiled, and patted her older sister's hand. “I know. I'm glad that we're still going to be close, despite what's going on with Daddy and JR.”

Sue Ellen's smile started to dissolve. “I know. I know those two will never get along, but I hope that we can use our power at Weststar and Ewing to at least try to prevent a war.”

Kaitlin started to say something…stopped…and tried again. She looked off.

Sue Ellen looked her sister over. “Kaitlin? Did you want to say something?“

“Well…maybe it isn't my place…” she started. Sue Ellen knew what was coming. “…It isn't my place, but JR. JR's proposal…in front of all those people…I mean, what do you want to - - “

“I don't want to go into this. I don't want to seem rude about things, but let's not talk about this. J.R. is discussing that with John Ross right now, and some other things…we all have some issues that need to be worked out. And he needs to tell Jillian. This is a mess,” she said, her tone coming across as somewhat bitter.

Kaitlin smiled ruefully. “My fault, I'm sorry I brought it up. I know you'll do what's right.”

The two sisters had a few seconds of silence, which Sue Ellen broke.

“So how is Rex's health?”

“He's stabilizing more and more everyday. He still has severe lung damage, and can't use his stock to maintain operations in Weststar for a long, long time.”

Sue Ellen noticed a definite twinge of sadness as she said that.

“Do you think that you'll get back together with him?”

Kaitlin looked her sister in the eye, polite smile on her face. “Now, now. We all have things we don't want to go into this lunch, don't we?”

It was her sister's turn to be embarrassed now. Sue Ellen recovered by toasting her sister.

“To the Shepard girls. And their romantic battles.”

“Hear, hear!”

They spent the rest of their lunch talking about life, current events, and people they knew, but both women knew that sooner or later, there were serious issues to resolve in their love lives.

At The Clifford Group, Cliff was eating a late breakfast at his desk when the intercom buzzed. "Yes?" He asked.

"Cliff, it's Leo Wakefield. There's a press conference on CNN that you should probably catch," he explained. "It's about Project Guinea."

"Alright, thank you," Cliff said, opening his desk drawer to grab the remote control for his tv. He flicked it on. After quickly looking at the screen, he buzzed Leo's office again. "Leo, why don't you come up here...I have a feeling we're going to need to have a discussion after I finish watching this."

"Agreed," Wakefield said. "I'll be right up, Cliff."

"OK." Cliff set down his plate and moved to the couch which sat closer to the tv. The ticker at the bottom of the screen read, Senate Democrats to launch full investigation into Project Guinea. "Damn," Cliff said to himself.

J.R. sat alone at the large glass, oval-shaped table inside the Ewing Oil conference room. Behind him was a window with a spectacular view of the Dallas skyline, and opposite him, a newly-painted portrait of he and Sue Ellen superimposed over the Ewing 1 oil field. Ewing 1 was the only field from Jock's era which was producing, and even so, it was only operating as a stripper field. Most of the other original fields had played out long ago, and yet this one remained, continuing Jock's legacy twenty years after he died.

He stood up from the table and walked to the portrait, looking at his watch. The meeting wasn't set to start for another twenty minutes. He ran his finger along the frame before lifting the painting gently up, revealing a large safe behind. He entered the combination and the vault opened, and he grabbed the folder inside. He closed the safe door and repositioned the painting over top of it before looking back down at the folder. On it, clearly marked were the words "Davis Oil: Confidential". It was time.

"Now, remember, folks", newly appointed Weststar President Hank McKenna said, " We don't want to be trouble. We just say hi, then it's out the door!"

Kaitlin rolled her eyes. "Mr. McKenna, why don't you just let us be the judge of what to do?"

McKenna winced. "All right, little lady."

The group came to Rex Wentworth's door, where the security detail asked the questions regarding what their business was, and checked their briefcases and purses.

Kaitlin was the first in the room when the guards opened the doors. Rex was very sickly looking, and reading the latest issue of Forbes. On the cover, there was Wendell's picture next to one of Rex.

The title read: "WITH WENDELL BACK AT THE HELM, DOES THIS MEAN A BOOM TO THE AMERICAN OIL BUSINESS? OIL BARON TAKES BACK HIS COMPANY".

"I'm not so sure I like that headline," Kaitlin said with a smile.

Rex looked up, and for the first time since he arrived, his eyes had genuine happiness in them.

"Kait-lin…feels…like…it's been…too…long", Rex said with a smile. The respirator's cold echo made his voice sound hollow and otherworldly.

"It has, Rex."

The other Weststar VIPs came in, with McKenna leading the flock.

"Mr. Wentworth! How you feelin', chief?"

"As good…as can be…expected. Saw…you were…promoted, Hank."

"Yessir, yessir. Real pleased you're all right, though."

John Savory and Stephen Dent walked to the bed and shook Rex's hand gently.

"My bank is pleased that you're stable, Mr. Wentworth", Savory smiled.

"Mr. Wentworth", Dent said with a lopsided friendly smile, "I hope you get better."

Rex's eyes were like ice toward everyone but Kaitlin.

Two men in very nice suits came forward, and each handed Rex a card.

"From everyone in Legal, sir."

"From everyone in Operations, sir."

"Thank you…so…much."

The doctor who Jeremy Wendell recently spoke to regarding Rex's condition came in.

"I'm sorry folks, I think it's time Mr. Wentworth got some rest."

The Executives left, with only McKenna, Savory, and Kaitlin staying inside.

Dent took his chance to speak to the doctor outside in the hall, and made sure no one was around.

"Doctor, I trust that you won't be upgrading Wentworth's condition, as Mr. Wendell discussed?"

"No, I won't be doing anything of the kind. I don't need repeated threats, you know."

Dent pushed him against the wall. "Don't ever tell me what you need or don't. You just do your job like we tell you to. Now, Mr. Wendell wants Wentworth to sleep for a little while."

The doctor raised his hands in surrender. "All right, sir. No problem."

Dent smiled and patted the man's shoulder. "Good, Doctor Thorne. You do your job, and believe me, Mr. Wendell can help you out."

Dent walked to the edge of the hallway, and smiled at the guards in a friendly way. He was still trying to figure out just what was going on between Streiberg and Wendell. Streiberg's last order was to follow all of Leland's instructions.

He looked into the room through the small door window, and saw Savory and McKenna walk out, and towards him.

"Steve, Boy! What do you think's going to happen with ol' Wentworth and Wendell?"

"Mr. Wendell feels that we shouldn't discuss things like that, Hank."

Savory shot his cuffs. "My bank doesn't really care for Wentworth anyway. The stock has been soaring since Jeremy took control again. All the public Dallas oil companies have been worth more since he's back at the helm."

Stephen smirked. "I understand that McKay wasn't good for your bank's position with Weststar?"

The other men both laughed.

"Hell, boy!" McKenna laughed, "McKay just did most of Wendell's long range plans. Man doesn't know how to run an oil company. He's a bagman, not an oilman."

Savory was far more composed. "Really, Mr. Dent. I would think you'd know of McKay's tenure as Chairman. We lost millions when McKay was arrested for murder about ten years ago. The man had no vision when he managed to muscle his way back in. To be honest, I'm glad Wendell is back. I only wish there was a way it could be permanent."

Dent smiled. "You never know, Mr. Savory. I think Mr. Wendell has something in the works."

Kaitlin watched the three men talking in the hall. She had no doubt that they were wondering about how her father was going to keep Rex out of the company for good. That's why she was glad she planned ahead today.

"Rex, honey…I know we didn't end up well. I'm still angry with you, but I don't want to see you put out of commission. Why don't you help me help you?"

He smiled. "How…?"

Kaitlin pulled some papers out of her purse. "This is a voting proxy. I'd be able to vote your stock, and we'd be able to stop daddy from hurting you."

"Knew…you were the woman for me", Rex said with a grin. He reached for the papers, and carefully looked them over.

"Pen…?"

Kaitlin handed him a pen. Rex signed the papers.

"Thank you...want to give you…" he said breathlessly. Rex pulled his mask off, and smiled. Kaitlin leaned forward and kissed him briefly. She pulled his mask back on.

"I'll always love you, Rex. That's why I can't let daddy do this to you", she said as she gripped his hand. Their eyes met, and she knew she couldn't stay angry with him forever.

"I need to go now. You need sleep."

"Love you…my beautiful Kaitlin."

Kaitlin smiled as she shut the door, and walked towards the men, brandishing the papers.

"Don't get too cozy with the idea of Rex being gone. His stock means a lot to the company, and I can vote every share of it. So I suggest that you all tell my father that he isn't going to be the Chairman for long."

Dent smiled. "Kaitlin, Kaitlin. You know that isn't going to make your father happy."

"Stephen, your ambition sickens me. Savory, you're a greedy bastard. McKenna? You just want power. You're all gone when I get to the building. Count on it."

As Kaitlin walked toward the elevator, McKenna started for her. "Let her go, Hank", Stephen said with a smile.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and called a number. "This is Dent. Code three."

Kaitlin rode downstairs; she thought of Rex and smiled. Maybe they could get together when he was better. She still felt his lips on hers from that last night they were together…before that damned Afton ruined things.

As she walked to her convertible, a man started calling for help.

Kaitlin ran over, and saw that he was cradling his head in his hand, crying.

"Someone…. attacked me! Stole my car!"

Kaitlin got closer. "Are you all right? Did they hurt you?"

He looked up, with a glint in his eye. "Nope."

Kaitlin felt strong arms wrap around her. It was a large woman in a black jumpsuit.

"I'll take those papers, honey", she said. She had a solid grip on Kaitlin as she struggled. The purse was ripped off her shoulder, and its contents dumped on the ground.

The man went through the mess until he found the papers. "Got it!" The man said. "Let's go!"

"You stay away, girl. Let your father handle the business about Wentworth."

Kaitlin watched them drive away, trembling in shock. Her father really was up to something. It was time she knew what it was.

Leo Wakefield had now joined Cliff as the two watched the developments of the news conference avidly:

A fat, white haired, balding man stood at the podium. The screen identified him as 'Senate Majority Leader Fred Pickering, D-Georgia', and as both Cliff and Leo knew, Pickering was an environmentalist who had more than once shown his contempt for big business, and the oil industry in particular.

“In answer to your question, Barbara, we are not trying to stop this project, but merely ensure that certain strict environmental regulations are followed, as it has been demonstrated in the past that the President's energy policy gives little consideration to its environmental ramifications, no matter how destructive. We also believe a full inquiry should be held into the companies participating, particularly Weststar Oil, Ewing Oil and The Clifford Group, all from Texas, which I'm sure, you'll recall, have all been the subject of several outrageous news reports over the past few decades...some even as serious as allegations as supporting foreign terrorism. So, I believe, and the Democratic Party believes, that the American people need to rest assured that the individuals and institutions involved will result in the best foot forward while in Africa. We will hold the President to account for this project, and we even have several congress people from the Republican Party on board.”

“I'll be damned,” Cliff said to himself. “That sounds like a campaign speech, to me.”

“Mmm, as far as I know, Pickering is planning on retiring after this term; he's pushing eighty, you know. No, I think this is more of his swan song, he's looking for a legacy. He probably feels that if he can stop this project, and beat the president, he'll get into the history books.”

“Well,” Cliff said hastily as he stood up, “I'm calling J.R. We may not have a project leader, yet, but I'll just bet you he knew about this even before Pickering did, and he's probably just the guy to stop it.”

“I wouldn't do that, Cliff,” Leo advised. “In all seriousness, and as your advisor, I would recommend that you not respond to this. Right now, there are only rumors…you know, quiet conversation from people who don't matter that you've been mismanaging the company. If they did an audit, they would find the company to be solid…the only thing hindering your record was the Weststar deal, and that's been resolved.”

Cliff sat back down. “So you're saying I should support the inquiry? Cooperate fully?”

“Exactly,” he clarified. “And, if they do investigate Ewing Oil, and Weststar, they're bound to find something. You could have the two of them out of your hair for good…and, even if the success of the project was jeopardized, I think it would be an acceptable loss. You would, after all, be rid of your two biggest threats.”

“I told Miss Ellie I wouldn't go to war against J.R. anymore,” Cliff said after mulling it over.

“And you wouldn't be. But J.R. Ewing has enough powerful friends without needing you...there's no reason you should be dragged into a messy inquiry.” Leo switched off the tv and looked at Cliff. “A few weeks ago, you told me you valued my opinion. This is it, coming both as a friend and a close advisor. I've helped ensure that everything we've done here has been above board and honest, and if they need proof, we can give them proof. You've got nothing to worry about.”

Cliff weighed what he said. I'm a lawyer, I know the political game, he said to himself. And Leo knows what he's talking about… “Alright, we'll do it your way. You've never let me down, Leo…I hope you're right this time.”

“Senator Pickering,” started one of the reporters, “have you heard reports of a tanker crash north of Russia, apparently having departed from Russia, en route to the United States?”

“Unfortunately I have not heard this, I assume this is recent?” He asked.

The reporter nodded. “Yes, news just broke within the hour.”

“Well, I've been here talking to you for the last hour, so, nope, I can't say I've heard anything. But I'm sure if you folks at home stay tuned to this channel, they'll fill you in on what's happened…”

“Got a little lady here to see you.”

“For what?”

“Dunno. Should I show her in?”

Ray nodded and a few seconds later, Bart showed in Isabel Rodriguez and left the two of them alone. “Hello Mr. Krebbs.”

“Well, Isabel, what can I do for you?”

Isabel handed him a scrap of newspaper. “I'm here for the waitressing job.”

Ray looked up and smiled at her, then chuckled. “You mean to tell me you want a job waitressing at my restaurant after all those times you spilled drinks on JR at Southfork?”

“What can I say Mr. Krebbs, he just had a way of upsetting me. But I promise I'll do a good job and won't spill any drinks or anything else. I just desperately need a job.”

“What other waitressing experience do you have?”

“I'm working at a place called Duke's Diner right now. Please Mr. Krebbs? You don't know how bad I need this.”

Ray smiled. “I suppose I could give you a chance.”

Isabel's face lit up and she ran around the desk and hugged Ray. “Thank you so much Mr. Krebbs. I swear you won't regret this.”

Isabel knew she wouldn't regret it either. Now at least she had a decent job to tide her over until Lucas came around.

Assembled around the table now were J.R., at the head, Sue Ellen at the end opposite him, Kyle Bennett (Ewing Oil's chief attorney), and Norm Blaikie, who had been Weststar's president during the majority of J.R.'s reign. He had been turfed when Wendell had retaken the chairmanship, and had remained a loyal advisor to J.R. ever since. J.R. scanned his eyes across the room, then pressed a button on the desk. The lights dimmed and Sue Ellen flipped the switch on an overhead projector. The three men looked at what was on the screen.

"Thank you boys for coming," J.R. said. "You three are what I would call my 'inner circle', and what I'm going to share with you today will not leave this room, does everyone understand?" Benett and Blaikie nodded in agreement. Sue Ellen, of course, already knew what the meeting was about, having been the one who had discovered the initial document.

On the screen was the projection of a handwritten letter:

December 12, 1941:

"Sue Ellen discovered this while we were in Waco, going through the junk at the Davis Gasoline offices," J.R. explained. "It was actually paper-clipped to a set of contracts, which I have here with me."

From the folder he took a set of documents and distributed them. "Kyle, why don't you have a look at this...I had John Anderson do some preliminary examinations of the contracts when we got back, he thinks it could hold up."

As Bennett read over the contract, Sue Ellen spoke. "Basically, it's an agreement signed between Jock, Gordon Davis, as well as two other men in 1928, which basically implies that the four men owned Davis Oil equally, is that right?"

"Hmm, not exactly," Kyle mused. "It's actually a provisional document..." he continued to read.

J.R. spoke. "The way I see it, and the way I've been able to piece it together from talking to Cynthia Davis and my own memories of conversations I had with Daddy, the four men met in 1927 looking for work in the oil fields in Lubbock. Gordon's daddy was rich, and he was looking to put together a work team to start up his own company. He became friends with Daddy and the other two…Chip Walker and Rick MacKenzie, and they struck up a partnership. Whenever Daddy told the story, he always left it at that; he said Chip and Rick were killed in a fire, and Davis and he both went their separate ways and formed their own separate companies...but..."

"...but," Kyle interrupted, "there was an agreement in which, in order to be paid back for the work they did for Davis without receiving a paycheck, he would provide them with a safety net. If they hadn't found their independence within a few years-by 1937," he clarified, "they would be guaranteed a cut of the Davis pie."

J.R. nodded, "yeah, that's it. I've got another note..."

Sue Ellen read it aloud. "This one's dated August 9, but there's no date. Jock, I was glad to hear you are making a success with your brother and Willard Barnes. I knew you'd be able to make yourself rich. I suppose you've heard about the accident the other day, and will be heading back to Lubbock. It's a shame that this had to happen, especially after they had just hit it big. I guess I'll see you at the funeral. It's been to long. Gordon."

She took off her reading glasses. "The funerals he's talking about are that of Chip - and Rick, who were killed in a rig explosion in the early thirties, leaving Jock and Davis as the only two surviving partners of the original agreement."

"Wow," Blaikie, a large grey-haired man, said to himself. "I never heard about anything like this when I was president," he admitted. "Nothing even close."

"We figure Wendell had a hand at making a lot of these documents 'disappear' when he took control in...what was it...'71?" J.R. asked.

Blaikie shook his head in agreement. "Well, as president, yes. But he was in charge of the transition from Davis Oil to Weststar Oil when Davis sold the majority of his stock, so...he would've been privy to a lot of information, info which would've all but disappeared by the time we took over."

"Who is this Angus Knight?" Bennett asked. "Obviously he was a lawyer, but... when Jock came to our firm in the fifties, he had been Sam Culver's client. I was under the impression that Culver had been his only lawyer. But, you know, this man may be instrumental in all of this... assuming the Weststar copy is destroyed, and we've got the only copy... it may be very hard to prove anything, especially ownership, and particularly when we only have a few bits and pieces of the story."

"Then we've got our work cut out for us," J.R. said. "I'll put our people on it, we'll try to track down this Knight fella...maybe he can help fill in some of the gaps."

"Wait a minute," Sue Ellen said as she shook her head, "what exactly are we planning here?"

J.R. looked at the three people he shared the room with before focusing on Sue Ellen. "The total annihilation of Weststar Oil."