May 1999

The annual Memorial Day barbeque had been a roaring success - with the exception of a near-scuffle by the pool, which had become an unintended tradition over the years - and the last few revellers continued to enjoy the live band as dusk fell over the ranch. Eleanor climbed the wooden ladder from the attic to Southfork's rooftop where her brother looked over the party below with a half-empty bottle of beer in hand.

"So, this is where you've been hiding," Eleanor balanced precariously at the highest point of the house and scooted across the slated tiles to sit beside him. By the time they reached double digits, she and John Ross had outgrown the treehouse their uncles worked tirelessly to build for them, and the skylight window became a far more tantalising option. "You kept a low profile all day."

"Got pretty tired of everybody congratulatin' me on my overdue return to Ewing Energies," he lamented. As the rays of sunshine beamed down onto Southfork, their father had informed anyone who would listen that John Ross was due back at the company for summer break. It was another way to rub salt into Eleanor's wound.

Eleanor plucked the beer bottle from his hand and swilled back the contents. "Did you see who Lucy's date was?"

"Couldn't miss him," John Ross winced at the reminder of the moment Casey Denault strode onto Southfork on Lucy's arm. John Ross was furious, as was their father. It was fortunate that their mother was well-versed in the art of distraction. "She's only happy when she's pissin' daddy off." He loved his cousin but she was a trouble-maker of the worst kind, especially where his father was concerned. "I mean, when has she ever picked someone suitable?"

"I liked Mitch."

John Ross chortled at the memory of Lucy's first husband. "He lasted 'bout five minutes in this family."

"What about Peter Richards?" John Ross bobbed his head, as if to respond neutrally. "Wasn't he your first guy crush? Talk about your camp counsellor," Eleanor playfully elbowed her brother in the ribs.

He threw his head back, an unamused expression on his face. "Peter wasn't gay and I'm pretty sure mom had an affair with him." Brother and sister mutually winced at the visualisation his remark elicited; their parents' marital history was one best left unexplored, yet tales of their woeful disloyalty to one another always reached John Ross and Eleanor's ears somehow. "J.R. probably deserved it."

"You're such a mama's boy," Eleanor mocked with a roll of her eyes.

"This from daddy's little princess?" John Ross wrenched the beer bottle back in retaliation. "You think nobody noticed you pinin' after him all day?"

"Well, he has to talk to me eventually." Their father had remained firm in his dismissal of Eleanor, still sore from the financial losses he blamed her for. John Ross, Sue Ellen and Bobby had vouched for Eleanor's fierce loyalty to him but he had been unmoved; the only option was to wait him out. "I wonder what he's doin' here," Eleanor pondered aloud and John Ross followed her line of vision to Casey, who was tucked away on a corner table with Lucy. He had made a point of introducing himself to Eleanor, as if his existence were supposed to mean something to her. "Rumour is he's about to join Barnes Global."

"You hear that from Hunter McKay?" John Ross raised an eyebrow at his sister. "You know daddy ain't ever gon' let you in out the cold if you're still seeing him."

Eleanor scowled, "What if he found out about those leases in the Gulf somehow?" She couldn't be completely sure how the dots were connected but Casey was her prime suspect. The obvious answer was Lucy, who had been known to spill the beans on family secrets after a Martini or three, but the extent of her involvement in the family business was to collect a fat monthly check.

John Ross offered an open pack of Marlboro to his sister and lit one for himself. He purposely avoided her eye and swallowed the dry hitch in his throat. "About that," he blew a plume of smoke into the cool air. "You remember that envelope with the stuff about Kristin?" She readily nodded her head and John Ross continued, "Around the same time, someone sent me somethin' similar."

"What was it?"

"There were pictures of me..." John Ross wrestled to find the words, mildly ashamed of himself but mostly ashamed that his carelessness had resulted in catastrophic consequences. "In a compromisin' position." He didn't need to elaborate any further and Eleanor's maddened expression quickly sent him into defense mode. "I couldn't let that go public, so I did what had to be done."

Eleanor scowled, bewildered and abrasive all at once. "What does that mean?"

"Casey was the sender." John Ross confessed, "He wanted intel on the company's business plan -"

"So you told him about the leases in the Gulf!" Eleanor shrieked, as she reached her boil point.

"No," her brother rebuked the accusation. "Not at first, anyway." John Ross clenched his jaw, semi-ready to duck Eleanor's fist. "I let him in on a couple deal's daddy mentioned over dinner, small acquisitions mainly. He wasn't satisfied. Said he wouldn't let me have the pictures until I gave him something bigger."

Eleanor slammed her open palm into her brother's chest and the force almost knocked him from the roof. "And you let me take the fall?" John Ross had always basked in their fathers adoration; he was the prodigal son . Eleanor had always worked twice as hard as him to attract their father's attention. "You know how hard daddy's been on me ever since Cliff Barnes won those leases. You're supposed to be on my side." He had always protected her, whether it be from the schoolyard bullies who threw around snide remarks about who her real mother was or the ferocious fights between their parents late at night.

She climbed back down the ladder into the attic and John Ross scrambled after his sister, only able to reach her by the time they hit the second floor of the house. "Len, I'm sorry."

"Show me the pictures." Eleanor spun on her heels with the demand. "Show me the damn pictures!"

His reluctance fell on the backburner and John Ross led her to the hidden safe in his bedroom. He retrieved the floppy disk Casey had traded for information. "I burnt the ones he sent me. The only other copies are on here." In the heat of blackmail, it hadn't occurred to John Ross to confirm whether Casey had honoured his word. Fortunately for him, when he returned to Southfork and scanned the device, Casey had delivered as promised.

Eleanor whipped the floppy disk from his hand and stormed a hurricane path to their father's home office. She inserted the device into the computer and loaded photographic evidence which offered an intimate timeline of her brother on a night of raucous debauchery, including a suspicious white powder, and a clique of semi-nude men and women in precarious but erotic positions. "You've got to be kiddin' me," she admonished her brother with a groan.