"So what's it gonna be this time, a snuff film?" Mathew snarled from the chair Rodney had stuffed him into.

"Keep up the attitude and I may reconsider." Rodney snarled back.

Constance leaned forward from her spot on the bed. "Mathew, please. It was just business with Rodney and I. Humphrey needed a lever to get you to sign the divorce papers."

"Oh well then," Mathew raised his hands in deference. "Silly me for thinking you were the ones that took advantage of me here with your flimsy bustier and photographer when it was all old Humphrey. Tell me, Constance, did I enjoy myself?"

"I'm warning you, Patton."

"Don't, Rodney. He has a right to be angry."

"Says the angel with black wings." Mathew stared at Rodney, considering he may have gone too far.

Constance took Rodney aside and they began whispering together. When she walked back Mathew braced himself for some kind of attack.

"We need you to phone your wife and get her to bring the papers here."

"Like that's gonna happen."

"It's not a request, Patton." Rodney doing his snarl.

"Mathew, Humphrey is in the hospital. We need the papers for his employer and I hate to sound melodramatic but things could get ugly if you don't comply."

"What happened to Humphrey?"

"We don't know and at the moment he is unstable."

"At the moment! Anybody working for Rudman is unstable . . . from the get go."

"Okay, enough wise talk." Rodney dragged him from the chair to the phone on the desk by the door. "Call your wife."

Mathew shook himself free and took a deep breath. He picked up the receiver in one hand and reached for the door knob with the other.

"What the--!"

The door opened and Mathew swung the receiver at Rodney, cracking the lens in his Aviators. He dropped it and darted out into the hall, heading straight for the exit stairs.

"Oooh, that bastard!" Rodney did small circles, his hands cupped over his face while Constance grabbed the tranquilizer gun and chased after Mathew.

The dash down the stairs had Mathew wheezing; sitting at a desk all his working life hadn't prepared him for such physical exuberance. He almost fell against the landing wall trying to catch his breath then the clack of heels not far above drove him to continue down.

The exit door opened into one end of the lobby past the elevators and he hesitated, uncertain of which way to go. He paused behind a large plant to orient himself, taking a little too long as he had to duck when the stair door opened and Constance burst through. She stared about, eyes wild, then stormed off .

Mathew followed as she half ran, drawing the attention of other patrons and eventually the desk manager. Using her distraction with the manager, Mathew slipped out the front doors and around to where he had parked his car. He gunned the engine and made up his mind to confront Lillian so home would be his destination.

The starring of the windshield had him jerking the wheel instinctively and he swerved off the hotel lot into angry traffic. Another thunk sounded near his door and when he looked back, he saw Rodney standing legs apart and aiming a gun at him.

He shot at me! With a gun! Mathew steered crazily around the cars putting distance between them at a dangerous speed. He was trying to tranquilize the car?

********

Lillan sat cowering in her other personal, tufted pink upholstered Queen Anne chair while Mathew raged back and forth in front of her, arms wind-milling as he described his escape.

"Surely they wouldn't do such a thing . . ."

He stuttered to a halt and gaped at her. "You think I'm lying, that I made this up? Go look at the car!"

"I'm sure Percy doesn't know any of this."

"Oh, right -- Percy the Good." Mathew left and went upstairs while Lillian sat wringing her hands and peering out at the driveway.

He hauled a larger suitcase down from the cupboard and began a systematic packing of all the items he felt he would need. Staying around was not an option. Not with wild women and sunglass wearing monsters shooting at him.

He stopped and stared at the bag's contents a moment. Was this the way to go? It was obviously over with Lillian and if the villa was the only sore point, why not just give it up and move on?  He rubbed his fingers on his temples, procrastinating, then with a decisive inhale, Mathew went back downstairs, calling to Lillian.

"Lil, I've decided to sign your pap--" He stopped in the living room entrance and felt his legs quiver. Constance and Rodney sat side by side across from Lillian who was sniffling and wide-eyed over the huge gun pointed at her.

"Well lucky for you, you little--"

"Rodney." Constance silenced him and stood up. "Mathew, none of this was really necessary if you had just signed the papers when we asked. Now you say you will sign them and that's good because until you do, nobody leaves this house."

"Does Percy really know all about this? Did he condone these actions just to get his hands on our villa?" He turned to his wife. "Is he even really interested in you, Lil?"

"We don't have time for a symposium on this, Mathew. Just sign the papers." Constance pointed to the side table where they lay along with a pen.

He shrugged and picked up the papers, reading through to make sure his life wasn't mentioned as part of the concession then paused.

"What is the urgency here? I want to look these over before I just toss my signature on the page."

"Tomorrow night is the deadline, Mathew," Lillian blurted.

"Sign the damn papers!" Rodney stood and redirected his huge gun.

"You mean after tomorrow night, old Percy's dream dies?"

"Sign. The. Papers." The gun moved back to Lillian, this time against her head.

"Okay! Okay."

He spread the papers out on the antique writing desk that Lillian just had to have and as he was about to sign he saw the sterling table lighter. Quickly he grasped it and flicked it on, holding it near the papers.

"What are you doing!" Constance took a step toward him.

"Back off or these go up in flames."

"Drop that lighter or your Mrs. gets enlightened." Rodney pressed the gun harder and Lillian cried out.

"Then we all lose. You drop the gun and let her go. I swear I'll burn these, I didn't want them anyway."

Constance sagged and waved to Rodney to put the gun away. "Do as he says."

"No way! I'm not giving up the money we were promised."

"Rodney, if he burns the papers we'll never have a chance at the money." She looked at Mathew. "Now what?"

"Lil, grab the car keys off the table there and get out to the car."

"But--"

"No buts! Get out there or I'll kick yours." He moved after her to the door. "No tricks now, Constance. Lock up when you leave." Mathew stepped out the door then lit the papers and tossed them on the porch before dashing to the car and peeling out of the drive in a squeal of burning rubber.

Rodney and Constance danced around, bumping heads as they scrabbled on hands and knees trying to save the papers, both screaming invectives after the fleeing car.

********

"Mathew, I had no idea . . . I'm so confused and ashamed."

He steered the car onto the freeway and just stared ahead, his mind sorting and discarding replies.

"I was a fool, he-- Percy made everything sound so simple and-- and right."

"Right! You call throwing away thirteen years of marriage, right?"

"No, I-- we weren't sharing much of a marriage anyway."

He sensed the familiar stubbornness in her tone and knew then and there that whatever he was concerned about losing just wasn't there.

"I guess you're right, Lil. I thought we had a mutual vision of the future together but I can see how wrong I was."

"Percy made me feel . . . different." Defensive now.

"Obviously." Mathew glanced over at her profile seeing the trembling but firm chin. "Tell me, Lil, is the villa that important to you that you let Percy get inside your head?"

"It's worth millions, Mathew, and he didn't get inside my head as you put it."

"No . . . not your head . . ."

He pulled off the freeway and drove to the motel. "Be back in a minute, I have to get some stuff and check out."

She watched him jog to a room and a few minutes later emerge with a sports bag. Had she forced him to go to such lengths over the divorce? A twinge of guilt made her uncomfortable and she checked her face in the visor mirror as he tossed his bag in the trunk and got in to drive again.

"Now what?"

"I'm going to drop you off at PRIC. You can tell Percy what happened and wish him my best."

"But the divorce papers -- you burned them!"

"Yes. Yes I did, Lil."