There has to be something I can do, thought Priscilla Devereaux as she spurred her horse angrily across the rolling hills and meadows near her father's huge estate. She knew she was near the edge now, close to moving onto Pace property. But no one cared around here who rode across whose property. It was open land and a horse never hurt anything.

There has to be something I can do to get him away from that bitch! The thought rattled around in her head irritatingly. The little trollop DesirЋe Mitchell had had her way with Mark and Priscilla had no intention whatever of standing by and watching it all pass under the bridge as if it had never happened and Mark and she had never been lovers. She wanted him back, and that meant she would have to separate him from his hot-and-sticky-cunted little wife.

And that might take some doing.

Down below she saw Nancy Pace's little Camaro negotiating the dirt road leading to and from her uncle's estate. Priscilla thought that Clete Anderson's teenage fiancee would be better off trying to take a four-wheel-drive vehicle in to town. The river had risen high from a recent rain and had flooded a piece of the road. She could easily get stuck and immobilized far from anywhere. Priscilla drew her binoculars out of her saddle bag and took a closer look. Yes, Nancy would be lucky indeed to make it across the swamped part of the road just ahead.