The music was soft Marimba and it slithered around the intimate dining room of the Sand Castle's candlelit setting. Waiters in beach robes and sandals flopped silently over the real sand floor, a novelty that had lasted for longer than expected when the new management opened. Guests had the option of changing footwear at the door for beach shoes or going barefoot, a choice Gwen shunned, uninterested in the one feature of the restaurant she hated. Instead, she chose the beach mat path to their table, careful not to spear the rattan with her spike heels.

"You shoulda dropped your shoes, Babe, the sand feels great on the feet." He wiggled his toes for emphasis.

"Thanks anyway. I don't feel like walking on god knows what other people have spilled or left in there."

"Oh, c'mon, they rake it up after every sitting."

"Good." She turned her attention to the menu and immediately settled on the grilled whole snapper on a stick with baby potatoes, brown rice and a garden salad. Ted pouted and chose his own meal then ordered drinks for both of them. A couple at another table broke into a gay laugh and Ted shifted uncomfortably, the sand actually was hot and he felt stupid sitting in a shirt and tie and bare feet.

"So when do I get the news?" Gwen asked, peering at him through the amber of her drink glass. She assessed the chiselled face, the grey eyes and the regularly tailored hair, mildly ruing the fact that one time they had made her swoon.

"How would you like to share three hundred and fifty grand. tax-free?" He showed her a toast and took a long swallow of his drink.

Gwen sat back with shock, her mouth open and her mind spinning. The catch, find out the catch. "Just uhm- just how would I do that?"

Ted leaned closer, checked the tables around them and then told her in a soft, steady voice, raising only a finger when she started to interrupt. When he was finished he sat back and allowed the perfect timing of the arrival of the food to temper the moment.

"You must be out of your mind," she whispered harshly when the server left. She picked up her fork, hearing how hollow her protest sounded. Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars set off a whole series of ideas in her head, chief of which was how to come out ahead of Ted in a scheme like this. Her earlier, random thoughts of Barry suddenly took on a whole new perspective. Not only had she found him more fun, now she found him far more interesting. She broke off a piece of the fish and chewed slowly, watching her husband's calm face.

"On the contrary, it's the sanest I've felt in a long time. I've gone over and over the plan and it just can't fail. If everybody does their part it just can't fail. And the best thing is, nobody can complain. Barry can hardly go to the cops can he? By the time he could think of anything we'd be miles away on a real beach with fresh fish." He sliced into his steak and popped a huge chunk into his mouth.

Gwen let her smile stay fixed as he rambled on about what they would do. Inside, she was running data at the speed of light. Despite the sum, would she want to go away somewhere with Ted? Probably not. Is there a way to avail herself of this prize without him? Quite possibly. Should she even be considering such a move? Most definitely.

ööööö

Summer was flexing its muscles and the temperatures were rising along with hemlines and male eyebrows. Ted huddled over his desk dutifully doing the job he was hired to do while at the same time eager to get into the meeting with Barry. He didn't need a whack in the face to see that things were coming to a head for his boss.

There was some kind of scheme going even if he wasn't entirely sure just what it was. The trips he was asked to make with a sealed briefcase and the delivery to close-mouthed bank managers all added up to hanky-panky of some kind, a fact Ted discovered while watching Barry grow increasingly nervous, and by some relentless after hours snooping. The note he uncovered in Barry's desk confirmed everything he believed, and as he told Gwen, the next sealed briefcase was going to be his.

His phone buzzed and Barry's secretary announced his required presence in Barry's office. Ted always considered Rosemary an officious bitch with her clipped fake British accent and death before defeat attitude when it came to admitting people to her lord's quarters. He hurried down the hall and grimaced a greeting, pushing directly into Barry's office and right into the chair beside his desk.

"You rang, my liege?"

"Don't be a smart ass. Rosemary is just doing what I pay her to do."

"As am I, sire."

"Yeah right. I need you to take the briefcase to Portsdown this Friday. There will be a message at the hotel desk as usual with instructions for final delivery."

Final delivery! Ted felt daring enough to tweak Barry's nose and innocently asked, "What the hell is it I'm carting around in that briefcase anyway? Am I breaking the law somehow?"

"Of course not. Why would you say something like that?" Barry's face flushed slightly. "We do business with some very important people who insist on anonymity and considering the amount of business, I'm more than happy to comply."

"Just curious."

"Well don't be. Just do your job. Be here Friday at nine sharp and have your overnight bag packed and ready."

"Your will, sire, is my-"

"Get the hell out, Hollinger and enough with the lord and master routine."

Ted marched past Rosemary, finger to his lips, happy to see her eyes slit and her mouth match as he waltzed past. Back in his office, he picked up the phone and chose an outside line.

"Hey, it's me. Can we have lunch or a coffee or. something, I've got great news?"

"I'm up for something."

"I can be too." Ted leered into the phone. "See you at eleven-thirty."

"Come when you like."

"Ooooh." He hung up and rubbed his hands together.

Barry watched with an uncomfortable feeling as Ted left. Lately there was something about his behaviour that sent little warning shivers along his back. He got up, closed the office door, and checked inside his desk, looking at the note he'd left for himself, and then he got down and studied the lock and the edges of the drawer.

Nothing was really visible, but the feeling persisted, and he vowed to keep a close eye on Ted, particularly since this was the last and largest delivery. He buzzed Rosemary and told her he was going down to the corner for a Danish and would be back in ten or fifteen minutes. Rosemary argued vainly that she could get it for him, surrendering instead to watching the office as per his orders.

At the corner of the plaza, Barry stepped into the phone booth and dialled a familiar number, making a final check on the arrangements in Portsdown. His contact assured him all was well and was looking forward to the final bonus agreed upon. Barry said it would be transferred to his account a few months after this delivery.

With the timetable agreed upon, he hung up, went to the coffee shop, and ordered a Danish and then another one for Rosemary.