For the second time, Jean answered her door and her mouth dropped, only this time it wasn't surprise, it was fear. Donald Carver didn't wait for an invitation or explanation he just shoved his way inside, slammed the door behind him and backed Jean into the hall wall by the kitchen door.

"Where's Jessica Stroud?" Jean stuttered and blubbered her reply and took a sharp smack across the cheek. "I won't ask again, sweetheart, next time-"

"Next time you'll get this right across your fat head." Donald turned to see a scantily dressed woman of Amazonian features wielding a rather dangerous looking bat. "Let her go and get the hell out or live with the consequences, buster." Wendy stepped closer, waving the bat at shoulder height.

"Unless you want some of the same, you better back off, bitch!"

The bat arced faster than he could react and the barrel caught him high on the upper arm causing instant numbness that quickly turned to incredible pain. Donald bounced away into the hall table, crashing to the floor and smashing a ceramic cat that once stood sedately by the entrance. Wendy stepped over the debris and raised the bat again.

Donald swore and started to get up but the bat landed across his back and he hit the ground with a hard thud, his cheek splitting on a chunk of ceramic. He rolled over and let out a stream of invective, opening his eyes and staring up the long legs of Wendy to the uncovered flesh beneath her teddy. She bent down, her wild hair wrapping about her face and her top dropping away to reveal a truly remarkable bust; Donald, even in his present state, couldn't help but admiring.

"There's more where that came from, pal," she threatened through tight lips.

"I can't imagine how," he groaned, still mesmerized by the view.

"Just try me."

Jean recovered her composure quickly enough to step past them and open the door. She held up her cell phone and told Donald that if he didn't get out then and there, she was calling the police. He dragged himself to his feet, gritting his teeth at the pain in his back and stumbled to the door.

"I'll find her anyway and you can tell when you see her that when I do this little episode will look like a church picnic." He gasped the last few words as he hustled down the steps to avoid the advancing Wendy.

"What was that all about?" Wendy rested the head of the bat on the floor and leaned on it like a cane.

"I'm not positive but I'll tell you what I think about it but let's clean this mess up first."

********

"I thought we were finished with this stuff, how did he get out of jail?"

"On bail. Donald Carver doesn't hold much regard for the legal technicalities. I told you he was connected. He's also a made man."

"Oh please, is that really what they say about gangsters- what is it, making their bones?"

"Yes, in a word, and it's not something to take lightly, Jeff. Jean was pretty shaken when she called. If Wendy hadn't been there she might have been hurt badly."

"This is Wendy the stewardess."

"Yeah. God bless her."

Jeff selected a cookie from the tin on the counter and bit off a chunk, crumbs snowing down on his shirt. "He knows this place, you think he'll come here?"

"He knows I was here before."

"So call your friends at work and have the guy clapped in jail."

"First of all I'd have to get Jean and Wendy to press charges, which is unlikely since neither of them would want to take the time it would require and secondly, he will probably get here long before the police find him."

"So get them to come here then." Jeff couldn't understand her reluctance.

"They won't baby sit us, Jeff. They are not proactive."

"Great. So now we just sit and wait for Carver to come barging in, with a gun most likely, and blow us away."

"We don't have to just sit here," she said, the husky voice returning, setting his alarms off. "We could go to a hotel or someplace . . . until things quiet down."

"And that would be like, when?" He flashed on the idea of them alone in a hotel room with a big bed and a sauna.

"I don't know, Jeff. Until his hearing. It's not that far off."

She plucked at the material on the arm of the chair. "I have to go into work again tomorrow anyway. They want to revisit the possibility of catching Steinman receiving the stones."

"I thought they were missing."

"We can pretty much guess it's Ralph that took them and he has the money as well."

"Why would he go to Steinman then?"

"Howard Steinman would vacuum the universe to find somebody that stiffed him. Don't forget it was his money Ralph was using for the deal. Ralph was just getting a broker's fee originally."

Jeff pushed off the counter and wandered into his living room. He stared out the window without seeing the cotton clouds or the sun painting the leaves; since he was let go from work his life had spun off in the wildest directions and he was still just barely holding on. Gangsters, shootings, Mounties . . . good God this was movie nonsense not real life.

He passed his hand through his hair and shook his head.

"I can leave and find some other place." Her voice was close behind him and he could smell her perfume. "I don't want to be a lot of trouble for you, Jeff."

He turned to find her right behind him and his head moved back before he spoke. "Gee what makes you think you've been any trouble?"

"Don't be mean, I told you I was sorry about all that--"

"You never answered my question about, someplace warm and safe."

She coloured slightly and looked away. "There was a period during all this undercover stuff that I actually considered doing what Art tried to do." She faced him again, awaiting his judgement.

He fell into the irresistible lure of her eyes and his throat caught.

She had been considering taking the money and she had asked him along. He took her face tenderly in his hands and brought his mouth to hers in a soft caress that quickly turned to a grinding passionate compression of both their mouths and their bodies.

The sofa skidded across the rug as they landed heavily, arms and legs flailing. It was like a contest where they had to shed their clothes without removing their mouths from one another and the antics took on a comical aspect as they fell, knelt, stood then toppled again until at last they found the necessary position on the sofa and a more deliberate approach to their goal.

********

"I appreciate the fact that you didn't call me directly, Ralph. Our friends have been less than discrete in their surveillance recently and the least little thing just sets their antennae twanging."

"Thank you, sir. I do try to do the right thing and to use a little gumption in these matters."

"Yes, well did we succeed in our goal? You ironed out your little problem?"

"I do have the uhm- I do have it. The problem actually was bigger than anticipated. It seems there was a couple of Mounties who were running a scam of their own and the whole thing came crashing down."

"Ralph, I have all this information. I also know that you didn't actually make the transaction as planned, you stole the items and the money as well."

Ralph swallowed and struggled for a response. "Understand, Ralph, I'm not concerned with the collateral damage in this case, I'm only concerned with my part and as you have stated, that can be satisfied and put to rest now, correct?"

"Uh- oh ab- absolutely, sir. You tell me how you want this done and I'll make it happen."

"Good. Good, Ralph. Be at the Cyber Café on Queen by Pape at noon sharp. Ask for a fax message for a Mister Forest and follow the instructions exactly."

"Cyber Café, right sir, I'm on it." Ralph heard the line click and he said goodbye with an affected solicitousness.

"Almost over, Orly," he said as he emerged from the phone booth. "By noon we'll be free and clear to go where we want." Orly stroked his cast and nodded slowly.

Howard Steinman pressed the buzzer by his desk and swiveled his chair toward the window of his penthouse office. When he heard the door close softly he stretched his arm back without looking and indicated the cell phone on his desk.

"Get rid of that permanently and then pick up our friend at the Cyber Café at noon. Make sure he has the items before completing your assignment."

He sighed and took a cigar from his breast pocket, lighting it and blowing a thick blue cloud of smoke at the window as he heard the door close quietly again.