Graham took a fresh handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped the mouth of the beer bottle. He took a tentative sip and said, “Jack Landis is the majority owner of the FCN network. The bank’s client, Peter Hathaway, is the largest minority owner. The minority owner wants to be the majority owner. Hathaway is pissed off because he thinks that Jack is overextending. And then there’s Candyland.”

“Candyland.” Neal chuckled. He’d heard about Candyland on “The Jack and Candy Family Hour.”

Candyland was going to be an enormous “family vacation resort” on the outskirts of San Antonio-as soon as it was finished, of course. They were still several million dollars short, so Jack and Candy were selling shares to their faithful viewers. Just send in five hundred bucks for your time-share condo. Jack and Candy made this offer about every twelve seconds. They were like vice cops in a strip joint when it came to hitting you up for Candyland money.

“It’s a disaster,” Graham said. “They’re way over budget in every category and they’re running out of cash.”

“Are they really going to build it?”

Graham shrugged.

“Let me guess,” Neal said. “The bank has a loan on it.”

“But of course,” Graham answered. “And the minority owner wants to work with the bank and get it straightened out. But how do you fire the most popular couple in America?”

“Tough one,” Neal answered. “Maybe if he raped his secretary…”

“Bingo,” Graham said.

“So is Polly telling the truth?” Neal asked.

“I dunno,” Graham answered.

“The cops didn’t believe he raped me,” Polly said to Karen. “I mean, I was balling the guy for a year, right, and then I cry rape. But honest to God, the last time it was.”

Karen was helping Polly put her underwear away in the small guest room. This was no easy task. Polly had a lot of underclothes.