Inside their warm and snug bedroom, Bobby and Pam were both lost in deep sleep. The jet lag resulting from their trip was taking its toll. After all, they had been living with their days and nights almost completely opposite for quite a while now. Even so, the slight stirrings and then soft whimpering that floated into their room from the baby monitor woke Pam. As she eased herself from Bobby's arms, he stirred too.

  “Wha? Pam?” He rolled over on his back, as she rose from the bed and began to don a silken robe.

  “It's okay, Bobby, it's just the baby,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

  Bobby yawned. “Where's the nurse? Isn't that what we pay her for? Come back to bed.”

  Pam started walking across the room toward the door. “Jeanette is on vacation, remember? Go on back to sleep, I'll settle Savannah down and be back in a few minutes.”

  Bobby gave up and, closing his eyes, he rolled back over on his side. He'd come to the conclusion that he would just never understand certain things about women in general and Pamela especially… like how she could fly half way around the world and come home with a fierce case of jet lag that was playing havoc with both of their sleep, yet, here she was, no doubt exhausted, and yet, the baby whimpers and Pam's suddenly wide awake.

  As he drifted back to sleep he thought it was a good thing she had those instincts – or whatever – because he sure wouldn't be getting up right now. He reached out and swiped her pillow and hugging to himself, he fell back asleep almost immediately.

  Pam finished tying the sash of her robe around her waist as she walked to the door from her and Bobby's room to the Nursery. Just before she turned the knob, she noticed that Savannah had stopped crying and she heard a voice.

  Pamela pulled the door partially open, stepped forward and peered in.

  What she saw made her feel as though she was stepping back in time. Only a small night-lite that was sitting on the dresser lit the room; but she could clearly see Miss Ellie sitting in the darkness rocking slowly back and forth with the small bundle that was Savannah. As she rocked, she sang a song that Pam had never heard before.

You are an angel, in disguise, You are an angel, with blue eyes, Mommy loves you, little girl, Nighty, night, my world.

  Ellie continued slowly rocking in the chair and singing the little tune again and again. It all seemed strange to her, especially since Savannah had hazel eyes like her Daddy. But the baby was fast asleep now and Pam saw no reason to disturb them.

  As she made her way back to her bedroom, she couldn't help but wonder just what had happened at Southfork while they were gone. As she stepped through and then closed her bedroom door behind her, she could still hear Miss Ellie's voice softly singing, through the baby monitor. Pamela lay in bed and listened for a short while before she found herself falling asleep to the lullaby.

“Losing my husband is no reason for you to have to be nice to me, J.R.,” Lucy said quietly, but her voice lacked the usual biting tone she reserved just for her uncle.

J.R. glanced back and saw that Sue Ellen was still standing out by the car with Miss Ellie. Bobby and Pamela were just emerging from another limo. “Lucy honey, I'm not being nice because I have to. Say what you want, but I do care about you and I hate to see you in pain like this, especially after you were so happy.”

Lucy couldn't believe she was having this conversation with J.R. She expected to see Rod Serling come walking down the staircase and begin his spiel about how you were now entering the Twilight Zone, but it didn't happen. “If I were feeling up to it, I might argue with you, but for now, I'll believe it.”

“Your old room's just like you left it.”

“Who said I'd be staying here?” Lucy questioned.

“I just assumed you would. The last thing you need is to be shut up in a house all by yourself.”

Lucy bit her lip. “No, the last thing I need is to be shut up in this house, with all of you.” She knew she was probably right about that, but right now, the idea of going back to the house where she'd found Neil dead just two days before, didn't appeal to her. Truly, she didn't know if it ever would. Lucy glanced around the room as she walked into the living area. It had been weeks since she'd set foot in this house. It had been weeks since she did anything but stay by Neil's side. That alone should have released her from the guilt she was feeling right now, but deep down, it didn't. She kept thinking back to the situation with Afton and how she'd said she'd never forgive Neil…

“Family's what you need right now, Lucy. And when family's what you need, there's no better one than the Ewings.”

“I'll second that,” Ellie said, stepping into the house. Bobby and Pamela came in behind her and then Sue Ellen followed, shutting the door behind them and they all walked into the living room together.

Along with the feeling of guilt, came a slight feeling of relief. Lucy knew that Neil's days of pain and suffering were over. That was over; those long days of sitting in his dimly lit, sick-smelling bedroom were over. The days of worrying about whether each one would be his last…were over. The funeral was over. It was time for Lucy to heal a wound that had been gouged over a year ago.

Pam and Sue Ellen approached her and Sue Ellen put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Is there anything we can do for you?”

Lucy shook her head. “I just need to go upstairs and get some rest…and maybe I'll finally get some. God knows it's been long enough.”

Sue Ellen smiled and nodded. “Just let us know if you need anything.”

Sue Ellen walked away, but leaving Pam and Lucy alone together. Pam put her hand on Lucy's arm and Lucy looked her straight in the eyes. She knew that if anyone understood her, it was Pam. She suddenly felt like the room was spinning out from under her feet. She leaned forward and Pamela hugged her. She pulled back and looked at Lucy, the weakening of her tough shell was apparent to Pamela and she took her hand.

“Come on, Lucy, I'll walk you upstairs.”

As they approached Lucy's bedroom, Pam said, “Lucy, I know there's nothing I can say right now to make it better. I just want you to know that if you need some one to talk to, I'm here.

Lucy smiled weakly. “Thanks, Pam. I know you mean that. Right now, I just want to be alone.”

“Of course. I'll have Teresa bring something up to you for dinner so you don't have to come down.”

“Thank you. I'm really not up to a 'family dinner' tonight.”

Lucy made her way into her old room and quickly scanned the room. JR was right; nothing had changed since she last lived at Southfork. She wasn't quite sure why, but she didn't find it comforting.

As she looked around, she found herself struggling to stay awake. Climbing into bed, she thought about the day again, and how her family was reacting. In a way, Lucy hated that they were all being like this. Why did it take something like death to make her feel like a part of the family? She pondered that question on her way up the staircase, but she hadn't found an answer by the time she reached the top, and the answer still hadn't come to her by the time sleep finally eased her troubled mind.

Currently, he was in the office of the company president, Jake Martin.

“Well, Mr. Wendell, I know West Star is a very large and impressive company, but I think that A.C. doesn't exactly have to cave in to you.”

Wendell smirked at Martin. “Jake. You must be joking. You think I don't know about the massive debts your company has? The amount of outstanding loans? Who are you trying to kid, man? Your firm is about to collapse.”

Martin felt the blood boil in his face. “Damn it, I didn't think anyone knew”, he said softly.

“Well, Jake, I knew. It's important to know everything important about what you do. Now why don't we get past the pleasantries, and cut to the chase?”

Martin nodded solemnly.

“You were hit hard by the recession the company is in. You have great properties, impressive holdings, and overall, you have a solid business. The problem is that you can neither develop your fields to capacity, or pay off your loans, which I believe are due in about…” Wendell checked the calendar on his watch, “ three weeks.”

Martin sighed. “Why don't you just say it, Mr. Wendell?”

“Oh, we do want to buy your company, Jake. West Star is looking to expand into new markets, and your fields across the Bering Strait in Russia are very attractive. Now, as I look over the records of your company, it seems you simply expanded too quickly, and your debts are now…”, Wendell took his reading glasses off and chewed on the right stem, “staggering.”

Martin went over to the bar in his office and poured some imported Vodka into a glass and quickly downed it.

“Jake, since you're the majority shareholder, you can walk away with a considerable amount of money. Well…all things considered, anyway.”

Martin whirled. “What do you mean by that?”

“Hmm? Oh. Well, since you do have impressive debts, West Star is prepared to offer thirty cents on the dollar for your shares in the company, and fifteen to the others.”

Martin threw his glass at the wall where it shattered into dozens of shards.

“You monster. I should have known that you wanted to steal my business from me as soon as I heard you were coming to town!”

Wendell straightened his tie and walked toward the door. “If you aren't interested in my proposal then just say so. I'm sure I can find another half-wit who ran his company into the ground just as easily. I'll let you lose everything and have nothing to show for it.”

Wendell's hand was on the door and he felt Jake put his hand on his shoulder.

“No. No, I'll take the money.”

Wendell smiled at him. “I knew you would. I have the papers right here.”

Martin signed and waited for the cashier's check to come from Wendell's case. He sighed with relief as he counted the zeros on the check.

Wendell patted Martin on the back. “Signing with West Star was a wise move, Jake.”

After all his papers and charts were back in his case, Wendell put his coat and hat on and walked to the door.

“Oh yes, and Jake? West Star bought you out, paid you off, and we're going to use your oil. But we don't want squatters. You have until the end of the day to get the hell out of my building.”

Jake stood there trembling with rage, and as Wendell shut the door, he heard Jake smashing things in the office.

“The man just can't accept failure, I guess,” Wendell said to himself. He briskly walked down the hallway and met with his strategic analysts, whom he shook hands with.

“Well, sir? Did it work?”

“Of course, Simmons. The man caved. A little time and some effort, and West Star will have a serious edge in Alaska. And now in Russia.”

Simmons smiled. “So now West Star has the lease to Alaskan Crude's stake in Guinea, and we can put the squeeze on the Alaskan oil companies.”

As the team left the building, Wendell smirked to himself amid the snow and dark skies.

“Yes, gentlemen,” he said, “It seems as though West Star has good things in its future.”

He wanted to think about it…to rationalize it before confronting Karen about it. In his mind, Christopher had come up with every possible explanation; except for the one that he dreaded thinking about the most.

Karen followed him into their bedroom and took a seat on the bed where she pulled off her shoes and rubbed her aching feet. She had noticed that Christopher had been distant the past couple of days, but she hadn't questioned him about it. She supposed that now was as good a time as any.

“What's got you so quiet?”

“The funeral,” Christopher answered so quickly that it couldn't have been anything but a lie.

“Try again. I noticed that you were like this before you ever found out about Neil's death. Remember what we talked about, after everything that happened with Eric and Carla? About how honesty would be the key factor in our relationship from now on?”

Christopher turned and looked at her. It was four years ago today that they were married. Some anniversary this was turning out to be and Christopher knew it would only get worse. “Honesty…now there's an idea.”

Karen was surprised at the bitterness in his voice. What had brought this on? “Yeah, that is an idea, so why don't you use it?”

“Karen, why didn't you use it?”

“I'm not a mind reader, so will you just get to the point? You're scaring me…”

“And you're scaring me,” Christopher echoed. “Why don't I just show you.” He walked over to the dresser and pulled out several small vials, along with two hypodermic needles. Chris took them back to the bed and held them out in his hand. “Care to explain this?”

Karen's throat went dry and her head began to tingle. She was completely blown away and she wanted to scream that this had to be some kind of mistake, but she was too shocked to even think at all. She felt as though her mind had gone numb. “Christopher…I…”

“Are you addicted again?” Christopher paused and looked down at the syringes. “And don't lie to me, because I'll know if you are.”

“How could you think that? After all I went through before, how could you think that I'd ever go back?” Karen was letting her emotions take over. The surprise had faded and now she was hurt. She tried to fight back the tears, but she lost the battle and they fell.

“How could I think that?” Christopher was getting angry, especially with the way she'd dodged the question and started crying about it, but the truth was, she hadn't given him an answer. “What else am I supposed to think when I find the stuff in your dresser drawer? That the tooth fairy left it there? Karen, believe me, I'm grasping at straws here. I've gone over every possible angle and I'm just not coming up with anything…”

“Why the hell do you have to be so nasty about it?” Karen snapped. Her confusion was taking over again. Why was this happening? How did the heroin get in her dresser drawer? “I don't know how it got there.”

Christopher's heart told him to believe her, but his fears were telling him that he was being lied to. “Dammit Karen, why?”

“Why? I wish to God I knew!” she shouted.

Outside in the hallway, Eve Ashford stopped to listen at the door.

Christopher felt like his whole world was falling apart, after he'd worked so hard to put it back together, piece-by-piece. “You're lying to me,” he said.

“I would never do that.”

“I want to believe you…you have no idea how much I want to believe you, but the evidence is there.” Christopher went quiet and cupped his face in his hands. “I don't know what would drive you back to this. Addiction I guess. I know I have to fight my alcoholism every day of my life…but you got through this one time and we can get through it again.”

“I don't believe I'm hearing this! Christopher Ewing, I am telling you the truth. If you don't think anymore of our marriage than this…” Karen wiped away her tears and quickly left the room. Eve managed to duck out of the way just as Karen slammed open the doors and she watched her stomp down the stairs.

Back in the bedroom, Christopher hurled the vials and syringes against the wall. Outside, Karen breathed in a breath full of fresh air and took a second to clear her head. Why was Christopher acting like this? What had just happened? Karen needed to talk to someone. Her first thought was Eric, but she didn't think seeing him in this state of mind would be wise. Karen flipped open her cell phone and scrolled through the phone book. One click of a button and the phone was ringing.

“Hi,” Karen said, not sure how to proceed. She hadn't talked to him in a long time. “I know this is going to sound strange, but I really need to talk to you…it doesn't matter, just name the place and time.”

  Before he got back into the van, he paused to stare at the expanse that was Southfork. If he didn't care about spending the rest of his life in jail, the fact that this place was way out in the middle of nowhere would make it an easy target. But Estefan had never been caught and didn't plan to be this time, either. To him, the ranch house looked like one big problem. People like the Ewings usually had every piece of security equipment available, making getting in their homes nearly impossible, unless, of course, you knew the system. Estefan jumped back into the van and turned into the Southfork main drive.

  He mentally checked his list one more time; he was wearing a stolen Dallas Home Security uniform and hat and in his hand, he held a clipboard with DHS service order forms attached. He pulled the truck up to the main house. He got out of the van and taking a pen with the DHS logo on it out of his pocket, he confidently headed for the front door. Before the day was over, he planned on knowing every single in and out of this house. He rang the doorbell and Teresa answered.

  “Hello,” she gazed at the DHS name badge on his shirt. “Joe. Is there a problem? Mrs. Farlow didn't mention anything about anyone servicing the system today.”

  'Joe' smiled his best disarming smile. “Well, mam, I have the order right here.” He showed her the clipboard.

  Teresa smiled back. “Everything looks fine,” she said, and then quietly to herself, “Mrs. Farlow has been forgetting a few things lately.” She looked at Joe once again and opened the door wider. “Please come in.”

  Bobby set his briefcase on the floor next to his desk and settled back into his chair. His coffee was already on his desk and his mail was sitting in a pile in front of him. His secretary, Sandra, had gone through it all, taking out all but the most important ones. Next to that pile, sat an even larger one of reports that he had requested be ready for him from each department – and Wentworth had a lot of them.

  He picked up his coffee cup and took a sip as he looked at the top of the mail pile. The first letter caught his attention immediately. It was marked URGENT and highlighted in bright yellow. He set down his coffee and turned all of his attention to the letter.

Dear Mr. Ewing,
  It has come to our attention that you and your wife's privately owned company has recently developed one of the most innovative and effective tools for off shore drilling.

  Due to energy shortages in our own country, and our continued desire to not be reliant on Middle Eastern supplies, we have begun looking into the possibility of Americans drilling, in countries that have massive unexplored areas of oil just waiting to be brought to the surface.

  Of course, we want the oil companies that we have rounded up to bring in the oil, to have the best equipment possible. That is where you and your company come in. I am very interested in speaking to you in person about the use of your drilling system.

 

  For the first time in many, many years, and only for a brief moment, Bobby longed to be back in Ewing Oil, to be one of the rogue companies to do the actual drilling.

Vaughn Leland jumped at the other end of the phone. “JR, you know I didn't think he was going to go ahead and fly up there this soon!”

“Ohh, you didn't know.” JR's voice dripped with sarcasm. “Well, Vaughn, you better get your act together, boy. And damn soon! Do you know what that means for Ewing Oil if Wendell puts the pressure on our new Alaskan fields?”

Vaughn sighed. “Look, JR, I'll let you know as soon as he mentions anything at the board meetings, all right?”

JR shut his eyes. “All right, all right. I still want us to meet with that boy Dent tomorrow. Still sound good to you? It damn well better be!”

“Fine, JR.”, Vaughn said evenly as he hung up.

“Damn Leland's lucky he works with me”, JR said out loud into the empty office.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come on in!”

John Ross stuck his head in. “Hey dad, are you busy? I asked Sly to let me know as soon as you were off the phone.”

JR's rage subsided at the sight of his son. “No, come on in! Shut the door behind you, son.”

John Ross smiled and shut the door. “Well, I've been going over the books to Davis, and I was wondering if I could talk about some business with you?”

JR grinned. “Sounds good to me. Say, need a drink?” JR asked as he walked over to the bar.

“Whatever you're having.”

JR put an unopened bottle of Evian in front of his son. “Sorry, but you know…have to watch the drinks.”

John Ross opened his bottle with a smile. “It's all good, dad. Listen, I was going over the Davis books…I think the first thing I need to do is to sell off the building in Waco, and the undeveloped land the company has down around there.”

JR nodded. “That's a good call. You can squeeze some extra money out of that, that's for sure.”

“Now, I was meaning to ask you, with the gas stations and the oil fields Davis Oil has…what do you think the next move should be?”

JR took a drink from his bottle and smiled. “Well, you studied business at school, you should know! Either build up what you have, wildcat for more land, or buy a company with the assets you need!”

John Ross looked back at the books and put his fingertips on his temples. “Wow, none of those sound too easy.”

“Oh, you'll do fine. Let's walk you through this one. The Davis fields are what we call strippers. They don't produce a whole lot of oil, so I don't think you can do much with that. Land with serious oil is getting harder to find nowadays, so…”

John Ross looked up, suddenly. “What about that land across from Southfork?”

JR settled in his chair a bit. “Well, I do know the owner of that land. But I don't think that he'll allow any kind of drilling. Not just yet, anyway.”

“Who owns it?”

“Me. That damn Jack Ewing had it, then Barnes. I managed to get it away from him in exchange for bailing him out on a deal.”

John Ross' eyes widened. “Are you kidding? That land has to be loaded with oil! We could drill there and be the richest company in Texas!”

“You'd think so, wouldn't you? Well, the thing is…your grandma…she doesn't ever want anyone drilling there. Neither does Uncle Bobby, and your mama doesn't like the idea, either.”

“Yeah, I mean, I understand that you don't want anyone to drill on section 20 of Southfork, but the land across is yours, and it's not where we live, you know?”

JR looked to Jock's picture as though remembering something, John Ross thought. “I think you mean section 40. And I don't want any drilling on it anytime soon.”

“Okay…so you think I should buy a company?”

“Heck yes, boy!” JR was grinning again. “Nothing like that first one you snap up. Word of advice, though…you want to buy low, and you want to make sure you don't have a lot of bills to pay for when you do buy it.”

“Thanks for the advice! Hey, you want to try and have mom meet us for dinner tonight?” JR grinned. “Momma's making her world famous beef stew tonight, so I s'pose we'll all be meeting for dinner.” John Ross smiled and walked towards the door. “Seven sharp…and heaven help the Ewing that's late. Bye Dad.”

JR waved and grabbed the phone, and dialed Vaughn Leland.

“Is he in?” JR asked Vaughn's secretary. After a short wait, JR heard that familiar voice again.

“Vaughn! Hey, sorry about that blowup a second ago. I'm sure that you're going to stay on top of things. That's right…say, I was wondering, what's the status on the West Star arrangement we picked up from Barnes? Uh huh…how many more barrels? Okay. I want you to empty our tank farms and send the rest to Wendell and quick. I want us to be free and clear of the obligation. Remember, though…make all the paperwork make it seem like it's from Ewing Oil. I don't want him knowing about our little arrangement.”

“Done and done, JR!” Vaughn grinned into the phone.

JR had been staring at the business section of the daily news for some time, but it wasn't until now that his eyes came across a headline entitled The Big Three. The article was a listing of the three largest independents in Texas and J.R. wasn't happy to see that West Star was first, the Clifford Group was second, and Ewing Oil was third.

“Damn it.”, JR sighed. He dialed Sue Ellen's cell phone. She picked up on the second ring.

“JR! What's up?”

“Sue Ellen, Ewing Oil is still the third largest independent in Texas and Wendell just made his position stronger by getting Alaskan Crude!”

Sue Ellen frowned. “I know that's not what you wanted to hear.”

“Damned right it's not! So what did Bennett say about the West Star papers?”

“Well basically, we're going through a dozen handwriting experts and we have most of his legal team going through the papers to decide what we could do with them.”

“Damn it, Sue Ellen, I'm tired of waiting! I'm below Barnes, for God's sake!”

“JR. WE are below Barnes. And it isn't as though it has to stay that way!”

JR sighed. “I'm sorry for blowing up on you.”

Sue Ellen smiled at the other end. “It's okay, darlin'. I know it's stressful right now. But before you know it, we can have Wendell at our mercy.”

JR grinned. “Well, hearing you talk like that makes me feel a whole lot better.” He broke off, deep in thought. “Sue Ellen…just you wait. You and me together, we're unstoppable, so Wendell and Barnes had better enjoy their time at the top while it lasts.”

JR grabbed a legal pad and the latest West Star shareholder's report and began to jot down ideas.

“Yeah?” she answered, forsaking the 'Barnes Residence' greeting that Cliff had asked her to use when she answered.

“Is this Pamela Rebecca Cooper?”

The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but Becky couldn't put her finger on it. “Yes it is. Who is this?”

“Maybe a friend…but first you have to tell me something.”

Becky was getting annoyed. “No, first you have to tell me who the hell you are. I'm not into playing games like this.”

A laugh came across the line. “From what I hear, you are into playing games like this, which brings me to my question. Heck, it isn't really a question, because I'm pretty sure it was you. So…you were the one who put the heroin and needles in Karen's dresser, weren't you?”

It suddenly dawned on Becky where she'd heard the voice before. It belonged to Eve, Chris and Karen's housekeeper…Megan's nanny.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Becky said. “Heroin? In Karen's dressor?” she added, for effect.

“You can be honest with me, because I think that we can both benefit from that. Besides, I saw you when you planted it.”

“What do you want?” Becky asked, ready to do business. “Or even better, what do you have that I want?” Even as Becky asked the question, a plan was formulating in her mind. She knew that just finding the heroin wouldn't be enough to cause a permanent rift between Christopher and Karen. Getting rid of Karen would be the first step in getting her daughter back. Becky knew she could eventually sway Christopher, especially if she could convince him she was right about Karen all along.

“What I've wanted for five years now…Christopher Ewing.”

Becky laughed. “Been there, done that, and I can tell you, he ain't nothin' special.”

“I'll be the judge of that, when that moment comes. Right now I'm worried about this moment. I've got some…some drugs that I could slip into Karen's food, which wouldn't be hard, considering I'm the one making it.”

“What kind of drugs?”

“Oh, just some stuff that would make her exhibit some of the same symptoms as heroin usage…not quite as bad, but still effective enough to cause more than enough doubt in Christopher's mind.”

Becky licked her lips. She hadn't been counting on this kind of help, but it would sure go a long way towards helping her get Megan back. “I don't make deals over the phone. We'll have to meet in person.”

Across town, Eve smiled. “Just name the time and place.”

  “Mommy!” Gracie stopped following and with arms at her side and hands clinched into fists, she stomped her foot on the floor.   Pamela took just a beat to smile to herself, I've got to write these things she says down in a diaryshe thought. Then, with an appropriately serious look on her face, she turned around and knelt in front of Gracie. “What is it, Gracie?”

  Seeing her Mommy at eye level calmed her a little bit, but she wasn't about to give in just yet. “Why can't I wear make-up?” Grace had already asked the question moments before and knew the answer, so she continued with what she hoped would be a more persuasive argument. “You wear make-up, and I just want to be just like you.”

  Pamela raised her eyebrows. “First, you're going to be like you. There's no other person in the whole world like Rebecca Grace Ewing – you're the only one.”

  Gracie smiled at that. “Like Tigger?!”

  Pam smiled, “That's right, like Tigger. Secondly, you are way too young for make-up.” Grace started to open her mouth but Pam shushed her. “And most importantly, you don't need make-up. You're beautiful just the way you are.” Pam tapped her on the nose and Gracie beamed that had done the trick. “Okay, now lets go get your sister.”

  “And then we're going to make cookies, right?”

  “Right.”

  They opened Savannah's bedroom door to find her happily cooing as she gazed up at the colorful mobile that was swaying over her head. “Good morning, sweetie.” Pam placed a kiss on the baby's soft cheek, pressed the button that made the mobile suddenly start turning and playing music and then set about gathering the things she needed to take down stairs with them.

  “Mommy, is something wrong with our baby?” Gracie had climbed the bars and was standing with her feet through the bars and on the mattress.

  “What? Of course, not, honey. What would make you ask such a question?”

  “Well, all she does is eat, sleep and,” at this point grace pinched her nose for emphasis, “make stinky diapers. Daddy told me that she'd be playing with me 'in no time at all'. Well, it's been no time and she still just lays there looking at me.”

  Pam had everything she needed, so she walked over and had Grace climb down off of her perch. “Daddy was right. Savannah is growing every day and soon she'll be able to play more and more. Maybe she looks at you all the time because she thinks you're so pretty.”

  Pamela took Savannah into her arms and the three of them started down the hallway towards the stairs.

  “Gracie, hold on to the railing”, Pam reminded her as they approached the top of the stairs.

  “I will,” came the faint replay as Gracie began to trot down the stairs. As Grace neared the turn in the stairwell, Pam could tell she was taking it way too fast.

  “Gracie…slow down!” But Pamela's words were too late, Grace had already begun to tumble…

John Ross smiled. It was always good to see her. “I have to admit, you really piqued my curiosity with that phone call. What's up?”

“I…I didn't know who else to call, but I figured you knew Christopher pretty well, having grown up with him.”

“So this is about Christopher?”

Karen nodded. “Yeah.”

“So what's wrong?”

“Christopher found heroin in our bedroom…and he thinks I'm hooked again.” As she spoke, it all came out in one big spiel.

“That's crazy. Christopher, of all people, should know you well enough to know that you'd never use heroin again. Any idea how it got there?”

Karen's mind began to contrast Christopher and John Ross. This is how, as her husband, Christopher should have reacted, instead of being accusatory. “No. No idea…” Then, something set Karen's mind drifting back to several days before:

“Today is my Saturday,” Becky said. She'd come here expecting trouble, but she'd hoped to avoid it. “I talked to Christopher on the phone last night, he said it was okay. Now do you mind if I come in and get my daughter?”

Karen stepped out of the way and motioned for her to come in. “I doubt that I need to remind you of what'll happen if you try anything stupid. Remember…if you leave the city limits with her, Christopher will have you back in jail faster than you can say 'screwed'.”

Becky rolled her eyes as she reached the staircase. “Yadda yadda. If I've heard you say that once, I've heard you say that a hundred times. How stupid do you think I am?” she asked, without once looking back.

“Do you really want to know?” Karen asked.

John Ross shook his head. “Well if that doesn't explain it, I don't know what does. Pamela Rebecca is a scheming bitch and we've all found out first-hand that she'll stop at nothing to get what she wants.”

“Right. She could stand to gain a lot by planting heroin in my room, for Christopher to find.”

“Like what?” John Ross asked.

“Like turning Christopher against me, or making me look like an unfit mother so she'll stand a better chance of getting Megan back. There are lots of reasons why she'd do something like that.” Karen buried her head in her hands and John Ross hesitantly reached his arm around her and pulled her closer.

“We'll get to the bottom of it, don't worry. What about that maid you hired…Eden?”

“Eve.”

“Yeah, her.”

Karen sighed and leaned back. “She seems nice enough, but if it was her heroin, why did she hide it in my drawer?”

“Good question. Maybe she's out to get you?”

“I really don't think so. She's a nice girl and we've become good friends.”

“I just wouldn't rule out any suspects.” John Ross temporarily went quiet, thinking about other people that might have done it, but none came to mind. “Like I said, we'll figure it out. Are you going back to talk to Christopher?”

Karen shook her head. “No, I need to be away from Christopher right now. I think it's best for both of us.”

John Ross nodded. “Why don't you come stay at Southfork? We've got plenty of extra rooms.”

“No, his mom and dad are there and everyone would be asking questions and that's the last thing I need, which is why you can't say anything about this. I only told you because I trust you.”

“I understand…and you don't have to worry about me saying anything, but I'll do whatever I can to help.” John Ross glanced across the street at the main entrance of the Singletree Hotel. “Why don't you get a room over there?”

“I left my purse and everything back home…I guess I'll have to go back.”

John Ross stood up and took Karen's hand. “Come on, I'll take care of it.”

  Just when it looked like Grace was going to smack the floor, suddenly, as if from nowhere, a pair of strong arms reached out for her and caught her. Startled and a bit banged up by the fall, Gracie clung to the person with all her strength.

  Pamela had no place to sit Savannah, so she couldn't take Grace. But she gently brushed the tears from Gracie's eyes. The man who had caught her continuously rubbed Grace on the back, whispering softly to her, “It's all right now. You're going to be just fine.”

  Seeing that Grace was indeed okay, Pam turned her attention to the man holding her.

  She motioned to the living room, where she had just put Savannah. “Bring her in here.” He followed her into the room. Pam sat on the couch. “Please bring her to me.” Estefan did as she asked and, with great care; he placed Grace on the couch beside Pamela.

  Pam held her arms open as Gracie scrambled into them. Pam covered her little face with kisses, as Estefan quietly stood watching them.

  Pam finally turned her attention to him. “Thank you so much…ummm…?” She was straining to see his name badge.

  Estefan looked down at it, “You can just call me Joe. I just happen to be here working on the security system. When I heard the commotion.”

  “Well, I'm glad you were. I don't know what to say. You saved her life…or at the very least a broken bone or two.” Pam managed a grin of relief.

  Estefan returned her grin. “Don't think anything of it. I have kids too.”

  “Then you do understand.” She continued to cuddle Grace close to her. Across the room, Savannah had begun to get bored lying there on her back, so she began to whimper.

  Estefan walked over to her. He had to admit, this was one beautiful baby. “Hello there pretty one. Are you being ignored?”

  Pam smiled in earnest, “Ha! Ignored? That's the last thing Savannah can complain of.”

  Estefan looked at Pam and then looked back at the little baby before him. He picked up a rattle that had fallen out of Pam's bag and held it over her. Savannah began to struggle for her eyes to stay focused upon it, and then her little arms began flailing about as she tried to grab it.

  Pam watched for a moment as he played with Savannah. For some reason, she felt as though she had seen him before. She tried to remember where, when she suddenly realized that he bore a striking resemblance to Bobby. No wonder Savannah was responding to him so happily.

  “You really have a way with her.” Pam said.

  Estefan glanced up at Pam and realized that he had completely lost his focus. He couldn't remember that ever happening before. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable. He stood, “I guess I'd better get back to work.”

  “Oh, I'm sorry to have kept you.” Pamela stood and began walking toward him. “Again, I can't tell you how thankful I am…is there anything I could do for you?”

  The smiled faded from Estefan's face as the irony of the situation hit him. He looked down. “It was nothing, really.”

  “Well, I'm in your debt. If there is ever anything I can do, please let me know.”

  Pamela extended her hand. He paused and they locked eyes for a moment before he took her hand in his. The soft feeling of her skin and the warmth of her brown eyes weren't lost on him. Damn, he thought. This isn't the way he had things planned

  He headed for the door. “Have a nice day, Mrs. Ewing.” What a stupid, cliché thing to say he thought.

  Gracie suddenly ran forward and grabbed his hand. The tears were still drying on her little face. “Thank you for stopping the floor from hitting me.”

  He smiled at her and tousled her brown curls. “Be safe.” He said without smiling, as he walked through the front door and closed it securely behind him.

  Back inside, Pamela took Gracie by the hand and marched her back into the living room, where she quickly swept Savannah up in her arms. Pam sat down and Grace walked over and stood in front of her, a frown on her small face.

  “Mommy, I'm worried.”

  Pam sighed, thinking that Gracie had something to be worried about right now. “Why is that sweetheart?”

  “Because I fell down the steps and you're mad at me.”

  “Of course I'm not mad that you fell down the stairs. But I am sad that you disobeyed our rule about running in the house.”

  Grace appropriately hung her head. “Am I going to get punishment?” As soon as she said the words, she looked up at Pam with a look that showed she was ashamed of what she did, but at the same time, her eyes twinkled winningly.

  Pamela studied that look for a moment, her daughter may look mostly like her mother, but there was no doubt that that look was Bobby through and through. “All right, I suppose you learned your lesson from the fall. I'm just thankful that nice man was there to catch you. Grace nodded her head eagerly; glad to know she wasn't getting 'punishment'.

  Pam continued, “One more thing - and you have to tell me the truth, did Daddy teach you that look?”

Gracie looked at Pam somberly and thought for a moment, as though this was a most serious issue. Then she took a chance at a weary grin and whispered, “He told me it always works.”

  Pam chuckled, “Well, it may not work for him the next time he tries it!”

  Grace looked at her in pure confusion. “Does that mean I still get to make cookies?”

“Ms. Ryan?” The voice came from the director, Bill Walton from the corner of the door.

Kaitlin smiled to herself and walked into the remarkably plush office.

“Hello Dr. Walton, how are you today?”

Walton smiled and shook her outreached hand. “Good, very good. It's always a pleasure to see you, Ms. Ryan.”

“Well, I'd like to discuss my mother.”

“Yes ma'am?”

Kaitlin paused and waited to find the right words. “I think that she needs to stay in here for a little bit longer.”

She knew this could be a point of contention with the doctor. She was right.

“Ms. Ryan! She's been in this hospital for a long, long time and for almost no reason. This is not a private prison!”

Kaitlin's temper was barely held in check. “Doctor, do I need to remind you that I was the one who funded the new wing of this hospital? I think you could show a little gratitude. Especially if you would like new donations from me.”

Walton suddenly cooled off. “Easy, ma'am. I wasn't saying anything of the sort, but hasn't Mrs. Shepherd been here long enough? What could she have done that would deserve a stay in solitary lockup?”

Kaitlin smiled. “None of your damn business. Just keep her here. I only came to make sure that no plans were being made to let her go free. Because, you know…I had some great plans to donate some more to this place.”

Walton was resigned. “Yes Ms. Ryan. I understand your point.”

Kaitlin smiled broadly. “I thought that you would. Also, I want her alias changed again. I don't want anyone being able to find her.”

She left the office, and left a very paranoid Dr. Walton.

“Lord,” Walton thought as he looked to the ceiling, “Forgive me for participating in this. Please don't let the AMA get word of this…”

He looked out his window and saw Kaitlin walk toward her Lexus.

Kaitlin hummed a song from Valley of the Dolls to herself as she started her car. But she was completely unaware of the slate gray sedan that had followed her all the way from Dallas.

A dark suited man in a big coat pulled a phone out of his pocket as soon as a considerable distance was between he and Kaitlin.

“Mr. Wendell? I have some news…it seems as though Patricia Shepherd is still in Texas. Yes sir, she seems to be in an Asylum.”

Jeremy Wendell grinned smugly at the other end of the phone. “You mean that all this time, my daughter has had her mother locked up?”

“Yes sir. She's been visiting pretty regularly ever since you assigned me to follow her around. I put two and two together, and when I had a secretary copy some files for me on the sly, I knew.”

“Very good. Get back to Dallas. I have a bonus for you.” Wendell hung up the phone and smiled. He walked over to a small table with pictures on it, and picked up one of he and Kaitlin right before she turned eleven.

“You never forgave poor Patricia for selling you, did you Katie?”

Wendell smirked as he looked to the Ewing building, and laughed. “Oh, JR. To think that your wife to be is about to be shaken. I wonder what that's going to do for your business?”

Adrienne smiled and brought out a porcelain tea set, which she set down on a short coffee table. “If I should be away from my home for many days, then I should feel like I am at home.”

“Can't argue with a philosophy like that.” Cliff took a sip of the tea that Adrienne poured for him. “That's damned good tea…and I don't even like tea. That's how good it is.”

Adrienne laughed quietly and then took a sip of her own. Cliff noticed that she was dressed in a type of kimono, as opposed to the black American business suit she was wearing when he met her before. “You like?”

Cliff nodded. “Absolutely.” Then he remembered that this was a business meeting. “So, where are those books we were going to look over?” The business side of Cliff's brain began to take over as he thought about how he'd always wanted to acquire Stackhouse Oil, to merge into the Clifford Group. But Cal always let it dangle there like a bunch of grapes. At one time, Cliff had almost convinced the old man to sell, but he'd backed out at the last minute.

Adrienne returned with a stack of record books in her arms and she sat down on the couch next to Cliff. “Mr. Barn, I thank y…”

“Barnes,” he said, cutting her off. “But you can call me Cliff.”

Adrienne smiled and nodded her head. “Cliff, I thank you very much for you assisting me.”

Cliff smiled and put on his reading glasses. “It's my pleasure,” he said as he flipped to the first page. It didn't take a business whiz to see that Stackhouse was a very sound company, more so than Cliff had originally imagined.

Adrienne noticed the smile on Cliff's face. “Is good?”

“Well…” Decision time. Cliff had two different roads he could go with. One would be to lie and tell Adrienne that she had just inherited a company on the verge of bankruptcy. Then he knew she'd let him lift it off her hands at a low cost. But for some reason, Cliff didn't feel right doing that. He cursed himself for having a conscience. “Yeah, it's good,” he finally said.

Adrienne smiled and her dark eyes danced. “My father was good businessman. I want to make him proud by keeping his company the way he left it.”

“Why settle for keeping it that way, when you could make it better?” Cliff asked.

“Mr. Barnes…Cliff, with your help, I think I can do anything. After all, who better to show me how to run my company than the man who invent the oil business?”

Texas oil-giant, Stackhouse Oil passed along to unlikely heir

“Interesting,” Eric muttered as he delved into the article. A grin spread across his face while a plan simultaneously formed in his head. “A naïve Chinese woman acquires a company and admits that she doesn't know anything about the oil business. Perfect.” The article went on to say that she would rely on a team of advisors to help her make important decisions, until she decided what she wanted to do with the company.

Eric knew that acquiring Stackhouse Oil had been a longtime and probably infeasible goal of Cliff's—that was, until now. What better way to get back in his father's good graces, than to present him with Stackhouse Oil? And being back in Cliff's good graces meant getting his job back at the Clifford Group.

This was almost going to be too easy…like taking candy from a baby.

Lucas reached out for the wire, but he moved too carelessly and sliced his finger on the barb. “Dammit,” he cursed and put his finger in his mouth.

He pulled it out and the blood flowed, crimson red. “Are you okay?” Manny asked, concerned.

“Yeah, sure. I'm fine,” Lucas said, trying to pass it off as nothing. Truthfully, he was feeling weak. Blood had never been one of his favorite sights, especially when it was flowing from him.

“Here, let me see.” Manny held out his hand and Lucas hesitated, but then he stretched his out and let Manny take it. Manny turned Lucas' palm over in his own and looked at the gash. “Looks like you cut it up pretty bad.”

“It's okay, really,” Lucas said, but a part of him didn't want to let Manny let go of his hand. Fiery pulses ran up his arm and into his chest and Lucas was certain it wasn't because of the cut.

Manny walked back over to the truck and came back with a canteen full of water and a rag. Once again he took Lucas' hand and this time he poured the water over it, washing away the blood and dirt. He then wrapped the rag around it and tied it securely. “That feel okay?”

Lucas smiled. “It feels great.”

Manny laughed. “Well I dunno about great, but that'll stop the bleeding. You'll probably still need a tetanus shot, just to be safe. I'm no doctor though.”

“You could be. You have the hands for it,” Lucas commented, almost in a daze.

Once again, Manny laughed and once again that fiery pulse ran through Lucas' chest, but it was interrupted by the sound of an approaching horse.

“Hey guys! What's up?” It was Margaret. She didn't wait for any answers. “Manny, I was thinking about going to see a movie tonight. Wanna go?”

Manny stood up. “What time?”

Margaret glanced down at her watch and then back up at the setting sun. “Starts at 7:45, but we could go get something to eat first, if you wanted to.”

“Sure, I'm through with the fence. I'll just go back and take a quick shower and we'll be ready to go.” Manny turned to Lucas. “You ready?”

Lucas shook his head. “No, I think I'll walk back to the house. It'll give me some time to think…and I've got a lot of thinking to do.”

“Well…if you're sure.”

“I'm sure.”

“I mean what I said…better see a doctor about that hand. You wouldn't want something like that turning into something serious.”

“Thank you J.R.,” Ellie said while washing her hands in the sink.

J.R. reached for the ladle and scooped up a spoonful to taste, but Miss Ellie quickly covered the distance of the kitchen in time to slap his hand and take it away from him. “J.R., you know how I feel about that. Who says the rest of the family wants to eat after you?”

“Well, if you don't let me taste it, how do you know if it's suitable to feed to everybody else?”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Nice try J.R., but I've made many a pan of beef stew and I think that now I could make it with my eyes closed, if I had to, so why don't you run along and wash up for dinner. We'll eat at seven sharp and after I've spent all this time cooking tonight, I pity the person that's late!”

J.R. chuckled to himself.

“What's so funny?” Miss Ellie asked.

“The way you're talkin', anybody overhears, they'd think you were talkin' to a five-year old.”

Ellie sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if I'm not. Now shoo.”

Five minutes later, J.R.'s place in the kitchen had been taken by Bobby. “Momma, I think if you take too much longer on cooking that stew, that I'm going to have to sneak a bowl.”

“Bobby Ewing, you'll do no such thing!” Ellie went back to stirring the stew and Bobby leaned in closer for a smell. “Patience wasn't a quality that Jock and I instilled in our boys, that's for sure.”

Bobby smiled and put an arm around his mother. “Patience is only a virtue when you're not starving to death.”

Ellie glanced over to her side where she saw Bobby's hand sneaking for the plate of cornbread. She quickly pushed the plate out of the way. “Bobby! And I thought you were just hugging me because you loved me. Imagine…trying to sneak a piece of bread!”

“I think that's my cue to go back into the living room.”

“I think that's your cue to go somewhere other than in my kitchen,” Ellie snapped, but she couldn't hide her good-natured tone of voice.

“Miss Ellie, you've really outdone yourself this time,” Sue Ellen said between bites.

“She's right Momma,” J.R. piped in. “All that waiting was well-worth it.”

Miss Ellie smiled. “Thank you both.”

“Bobby, Pam, I guess you've heard that John Ross is now working with his mother and me at Ewing Oil?” He didn't wait for an answer. “When's Christopher gonna join you full-time at Wentworth?”

Christopher looked up and glared at J.R., not appreciating being brought into this conversation. He realized that coming here tonight was a mistake. He wasn't in the mood. “I don't have any plans for it right now, J.R.,” he said coldly.

“A man can't just sit around and suck his trust fund dry all his life. Looks like you'd do like John Ross and get a little ambition.”

Christopher dropped his fork. “And it looks like you'd get some class and mind your own business.”

“Now now Christopher, I'm not trying to offend you. I'm just trying to offer you a little friendly advice.”

“He doesn't need any of your friendly advice,” came Pam's reply.

“And some friendly advice for you Pam, stay out of this,” J.R. snapped. “I'm trying to have a conversation and give your boy a little ambition in the process.”

“Christopher doesn't need anything you have to give, J.R.,” Bobby broke in.

Miss Ellie sat at the head of the table, listening to the bickering between the family, that was bound to break out into a full-fledged fight if someone didn't step in. She'd hoped they'd break it off without her having to intervene. Heaven knows she'd had to do it enough times before.

“I knew there was some reason I always come back to Southfork to have dinner,” Lucy sarcastically commented. “Where else can you get dinner and a show, and it's all free?”

“Nobody asked you Lucy,” J.R. cut in.

“Ah ha, I knew it wouldn't be long before you cut your act and showed your true colors to me. I guess my theory was right. You were just trying to butter me up in hopes that I might pass April Oil along to you, am I right J.R.?”

“I don't have time to waste on a little company like that.”

“That's not what you said before,” Lucy retorted. “And besides, I already gave it up.”

“To who?” J.R. asked, suddenly interested.

“I dunno. Rumor has it there's another stipulation in Todd's will that would take care of the company in the event that I didn't want it. I guess we'll find out, won't we?”

A loud crash suddenly erupted from Grace's place at the table and everyone went quiet. Once again, she hit the tray with her plate. “Look!! Aunt Donna's in the TV!”

“What the…” J.R. said as he craned his neck to see what Grace was talking about. “Somebody turn that up.”

Jillian walked into the living room and adjusted the volume.

“…where Donna Dowling Krebbs just announced that she will be resigning from her position as mayor of Dallas in order to fill a position as head of the Project Guinea Regulatory Committee, or PGRC as they're calling it. We'll now go live to her press conference, which is already in progress…”

“…it wasn't an easy decision to leave my current job. I felt a deep abiding responsibility for being there for the people of Dallas, but I feel that I can better serve our government as head of the PGRC…”

One reporter pushed a microphone toward Donna. “What exactly will you be doing in your new position?”

“I'll be stationed in Nigeria where I'll directly oversee the entire drilling process to ensure that it is environmentally sound and that it poses no harm to any of the surrounding populations. With my committee, I'll also be drawing up a new set of standards that we will hold all oil companies to, as far as equipment safety. I think that this venture can benefit all parties involved, but only if it's carried out in the safest and most environmentally conscious manner possible…”

J.R. found himself silently cursing Donna Krebbs. He regretted the day he ever laid eyes upon the woman. J.R. didn't believe for one second that she was only interested in making sure this project was safe to the environment. How had she gone from being adamantly against it, to being a part of it? She hadn't. Donna was still as much against it as ever, only this time, she would be working against it from the inside.