It was like a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Kate walked gracefully from the closing on her beach property but wanted to run, skip, hop, and jump to her truck. Two weeks before, a buyer had come forward for the Malibu property and agreed to her asking price in full. It was yet another cash offer, and the sale closed that quickly. In the high-end world of West Coast real estate transactions, things sometimes went apace—folks in the rarefied air of Malibu often paid cash—but even her listing agent was startled at how quickly and flawlessly things had gone.

The buyer even had foregone the inspection process, which suggested they merely wanted the land to tear down the house and throw up something new. Despite her affection for the place, Kate didn't mind. She simply was grateful Otto some year before had deeded her the property, which he'd inherited unencumbered from his father.

Of course, it'd seemed obvious over the last year that the transfer had been to shelter the property from his many creditors, but on second thought, perhaps it'd been his way of ensuring her future in a turbulent world? That charitable notion was one of many that had come to her recently, thoughts that suggested her late husband deserved less of her scorn and more of her gratitude.

Either way, the transfer had meant Otto had not been able to borrow against the place to fund one of his many schemes (at least not without her signature) and had the added benefit of keeping the house out of probate and consequently out of the reach of her stepchildren, who thought of the place as their own. So, she walked away with the proceeds of the sale free and clear.

She was solvent.

At that very moment, her focus was less on money and more on seeing her best friend and celebrating with an early dinner at the same restaurant where they'd first dined. In traffic, it took her about forty-five minutes to arrive and park, but the elation hadn't worn off by the time she found Eli waiting patiently outside. It was well before regular dinner hours, and there was no wait to be seated.

"You look awfully happy," was his first comment when they sat. He already had greeted her and complimented her beauty—it was some corny quip about how great-wealth brought out the glow in her cheeks. But it was nice.

"I am the happiest woman in the world right now."

"So, you're buying?"

"Of course, I am ... but don't get used to it. The rich stay rich by being thrifty." It was the model her parents had set for her. Most of the money from the sale would go into a trust to support her new home, to cover property tax, insurance, upkeep, and the like, and to fund her future health-care and old age. She would still have to find work and stay busy, but for that she was grateful.

"It's so good to see you," he suddenly exclaimed.

She seldom saw the controlled Eli effuse the way normal folk did, and it startled her. It had been almost three weeks, and their schedules simply hadn't aligned. Between the beach-house closing and the house in the Hills, which looked to close in a week, her life was a frantic mess of plans, meetings, signings, and lawyers, not to mention her ongoing and sometimes fruitful efforts to find employment.

Eli, for his part, was out of the city several times unexpectedly and was otherwise busy with his own projects and plans.

All she could think of now was breathing and enjoying the moment, especially the realization that her friend appeared to have missed her far more than she'd ever imagined he would. She leaned over the table and kissed his left cheek. Then she spilled the details and answered his questions about the housing situation.

"So, the other house closes next week?"

"I think so ...," she said optimistically. "It's another cash sale, but the buyers had yet another engineer come in a few days ago and look at the foundation. I get the fact it's on an overhang, but the first inspector didn't see any problems."

"Sounds like somebody in that family has a problem with heights. You did fully disclose the infestation of Flying Guys, didn't you? I think there's some sort of state law."

"How did I know that was coming up? The answer is, no. Though this is California. It wouldn't be out of the norm to hear such a thing, especially right before someone goes into rehab."

"You'd be on all the talk-shows."

"Why didn't I think of that before? They could turn my memoir into a made-for-TV movie, 'Alice Caitlyn: My Long Trip Home.'"

"My God, a tear-jerker. Hey, I haven't seen you. How was the first week in Lompoc?"

Kate felt something knot in the pit of her stomach. She'd kept in regular contact with Eli by phone and text but had hesitated on whether she should tell him of her single disagreeable experience at her new home. Fuck it, she groaned inwardly.

"Mostly good ... great, in fact. I have phone and Internet now. Jan came out a few times and helped me with the horses and with general chores. We did some riding, and I met her family. Her dad is funny, her mom is a hoot, and her three brothers are all handsome and saucy. And I met some other folks in the area. It was great."

"But ...?"

"I thought you couldn't read people?"

"A blind man could tell you're building up to something."

"Okay," she relented, "... about three days after I got there, I was working on some stuff in the back, and when I came out, Ted Phelps was standing in the kitchen right in front of me." She felt herself warm and tremble, mostly with anger but also with some anxiety.

"What was he doing there?" Eli was using his grown-up voice.

"He wa ... he just let himself in. God, it scared me so much. He just stood there looking at me, like, I think he knew I was afraid and wanted me to be. After ... I dunno, fifteen or twenty seconds, he dropped some papers at my feet and said, 'you're served,' and then walked out."

"Kate ...."

"Eli, I can't call you every time I have a problem. I did what I should've and called the sheriff's office. The sheriff came out personally and took a report and said he'd talk to Ted. The problem was the one time I talked to Phelps before that I sort of invited him to come back any time. Stupid me. I revoked that. Later, Jan's mom, Daisy, came by. I don't know how she found out, but Phelps tried to push her husband Al's sister around a few years back. She said she'd talk to Ted, too."

"What were the papers for?"

"He's challenging the easement, of course." She groaned. "And he's claiming thirty acres of my land through adverse possession. He says he's been using the property exclusively for the past five years and has been paying the taxes on it."

"You're kidding me." Eli's face was incredulous.

"No, I'm not," she said as she slouched back in her seat. "Mr. Redfern, my new lawyer, says the easement is pretty much unassailable, but the adverse possession he's not sure of. He checked county records, and Phelps has been paying part of the taxes on my property for the last few years. Otto never noticed it, and no one at the county assessor's office paid it much mind. Oh, fuck ... is there anyplace in this world free of butt-fuckers?"

"Dove," he said, "there are those types everywhere we go."

"I know. I just have to deal with this one. Mr. Redfern said I should check out the section Phelps is claiming. It's a partially wooded area at the back of the property, the part where that little spring bubbles up. Jan and I rode out there and found a wire fence around the spring. We tore it down and put up some no trespassing signs. Al Sanchez figures it's the water Phelps is after. It's right out of his playbook."

"I'm sorry you're so upset," he said soothingly. "You'll sort this guy out. I'm sure of it. And you can call on me anytime you want."

"Maybe you can get him to punch you in the face in front of the sheriff."

"It is one of my oldest tricks."

"You should come up for a few days," she said with sudden excitement. "I want you to see what I've done. I'm heading back next week, assuming the house closes when it's supposed to. You should come."

"Okay." It took him not a moment to think about it. "A few days would be spectacular."

The bad feelings and angst over Ted Phelps fell away, and she was happy and glowing again.

"I got offered some more work," she said.

About that time, their server arrived to take their order.

"What's the job?" Eli asked after the young man had departed.

"It's two jobs, actually ... okay, one job for certain, and a second job for almost certain."

"Tell me about the 'for certain' job."

"It isn't much, just voice work. They needed someone to do voiceover for this Japanese anime series. I'll be playing some, I forget the credit ... 'Admiral Vengeance Queen,' or was is 'pirate' something? Anyway, it's honest work and easy. The script will be right in front of me, and I can go to work in my slippers. The funny thing is that the guy who offered me the job was one of those poor souls Otto boned back in the day. He told me straight away he didn't like Otto but that he'd always liked me. There were definitely some mixed emotions there."

"There's a lot to be said for being the better half."

"I know, but at this point I don't care where the work comes from. I'll even do commercials, which is what my second offer is. That one isn't quite in the bag, though."

"What are you promoting?"

"Promoting? Yes. I mean, there are no lines. I'll just be driving around in some German luxury sedan wearing a sexy dress."

"Two things for which you are enormously qualified."

"It is nice to find a niche ... and I hope it works out."

"So do I. How did your meeting go with the college kids?"

"Oh!" She shook her hands excitedly. "We're going to make a short together. We don't have a finished script yet, but its far enough along that the kids convinced a classmate to direct. I've seen some of his work. It isn't half bad."

"What'll you be doing?"

"Mostly producing, but I'll have a small role and will help on set. These kids have great camera skills and are wonderful at special effects, but they don't know much about the overall process. We probably won't start filming until early next year, but it'll be so much fun."

"And what is this magnum opus going to be about? Please tell me it's not a spy movie."

"Not a spy movie."

"Flying Guy movie?"

"Nope. It'll be something farfetched, though. The version of the script they have now focuses on advanced soldiers fighting in some future war. I was thinking ... um, maybe you could consult? Everything these kids know about the military they got from playing video games."

"Get me drunk and ask me again."

"It won't be that bad," she purred. "You'd like the movie process. And your bullshitting skills are at master level. I bet you could walk on set and play the lead with no trouble."

"No ... not enough booze in the world for that. But I'll think about the consulting thing. I prefer Irish whiskey to Scotch, if I never mentioned."

She knew Eli wasn't a drinker, at least not a heavy one. It was just more of his goofing around, of which there was plenty. Too much time had passed since she'd seen him, and she wondered how often they'd get together once she'd fully transitioned to her new place in the country. The idea didn't please her at first, but she reconsidered. Work would bring her back to LA frequently, but she'd have to find an inexpensive place to stay in the city during those times, perhaps someplace like Eli stayed now.

"Three weeks is too long to go without seeing you, Pitt-Rivers."

"Ellen Saenz doesn't complain when I neglect her."

"How do you know, unless you've been taking to her calls? Hmm ...?"

"I've dodged that particular bullet. But what are we going to do at ... you haven't given your place a name yet, have you?"

The thought hadn't occurred to her. Everyplace else near her new home had some pithy name, some of them quite clever. The Sanchez spread was called Orchid Fields, for the favorite flower of Daisy Sanchez.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"How about Flying Guy Ranch?"

"No!" she nearly screamed. It was so funny she thought her spleen might rupture. "Very, very clever ... but, no. Something more mundane ...."

"And less likely to get you an unwanted visit?"

"Shut-up."

"Alice Springs?'

"Oh! ... no, already taken."

"Kate's Meadows?"

"Meh."

"Crazy Lady Valley?"

"Nah, it's not really much of a valley."

"I can see this will take some thought."

"I got nothing to do for right now. What's your schedule look like? You going to be around this week."

"No, not much." He seemed to reflect for a moment. "I promised myself I'd swing by the hospital again tonight, and I'm off to Salt Lake City again tomorrow." He stared to the heavens and intoned pathetically, "And please, please, please, please God, let this be the last time."

"You get no pity from me. You're working at something you love."

"No, it's not that bad. But we're still on for next week?"

"Of course we are, my good man."

"Good, then I've got something to look forward to." He made a slight clearing noise. "I know your beach house is gone now, but has that dickhead former stepson of yours given you any problems since?"

"Thank God, I haven't heard a word from him ... though some detectives came by last week and took another statement from me. What up?"

"Nothing much. I'm not sure the burglary charge is going anywhere. But there's been a trial date set for the criminal battery complaint, and my lawyer filed civil papers. Cyril's lawyer is already talking to mine and to the state's attorney about what it will take for this to go away." He peered at her more closely. "What will it take for that to go away?"

"Do they still have the electric chair in California? .... No. I want my stuff back."

"Yeah, I thought so. Lawyers don't speak normal English. Well, you know that as well as I do. I get the sense from my lawyer, and my lawyer gets the sense from his lawyer, that poor dumb Clancy has already parted with some of the stuff he stole from you."

"I'll send you a list," she said. "Give it to your lawyer, and we'll see how much he can make good on. At the end of the day, though, he is at least going to pay your legal bills. Or I will. Eli, you are far, far too generous."

"The guy hit me in the face, Kate. I would've dragged him into court for that even if I'd never met you. But do send me the list. I can't stand the idea of you being treated unfairly." He reached out and squeezed her hand. "Let me do this, and I'll be your consultant for whatever movie you want to make ... even a spy film. And you don't even have to get me liquored up."

"Done," she said with a smile. "I cannot wait until this is all over."