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Prologue

   The red-haired woman sat in the metal chair with her arms folded resolutely across her chest and scowled at her visitor. People of her wealth and stature weren't accustomed to spending time in jail. Her large penetrating gray eyes looked down her aquiline nose with contempt for her slightly younger and more attractive visitor.
   The visitor was also a woman of wealth. Sun-tanned year round, and meticulously groomed, the forty-something woman with bleached blonde hair flashed the prisoner a disingenuous smile.
   "To what misfortune do I owe this unwelcome visit?" The prisoner said.
   "Genie, you look good," the blonde searched for something to say. "You really do," she added as if her initial statement needed some extra help to make it believable. "You're so lucky they don't have you wearing one of those horrible orange jumpsuits. You know what orange does to your complexion." She produced the fake smile again, to see if would fare any better the second time.
   "Yes, I'm so lucky!" The prisoner mimicked sarcastically, "I'm in wardrobe heaven these days."
   The blonde pouted when her attempt to be friendly backfired. "It's not what you think, Genie," she responded. "We are doing everything we can to get you out on parole. It's just that this judge is a big fan of The Snake Stalker, and she's making things very difficult for us."
   "Difficult?" The woman scoffed. "I'm so sorry that you feel inconvenienced, while I'm obviously enjoying my accommodations here immensely. Might I suggest something to help ease your discomfort? Next time you come in here and try to convince me that you're on my side, you might want to brush up on your terminology. It's not parole I'm up for-- it's bail. There is a difference."
   The visitor shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
   The prisoner continued as though she were speaking to someone of lesser intelligence, which in this case, she was. "Parole is for people who have been convicted of crimes and have already served part of their sentence. Bail is for people who have not yet been tried or convicted of a crimeÑa crime for which they may be completely innocent. I fall into the latter category."
   "Right," the visitor stammered nervously, "bail--that's what I meant."
   "Cut the charade, Feenie." The prisoner said angrily, "I know that you turned me in, and you have absolutely no intention of posting my bail if and when the judge allows it."
   "What?" The blonde touched a jewelry-clad hand her chest in a gesture of righteous indignation. "How could you possibly believe that? We're family. It was that doctor on the island who turned you in. We all tried to get you out, but I got to the hospital too late!"
   "That's right. A day late and a dollar short, or should I say: two hundred million dollars short."
   The blonde lowered her voice. "Tell us where you hid them Genie, and we'll use the money to get you out, I promise."
   "You promise?" The woman laughed heartily. "My darling sister stabs me in the back and then promises to pull the knife out!" She shook her head and said bitterly. "I would rather team up with Jack Mackey before I trust you again Delphina."
   "Genie, please, I'm begging you to tell us where they are. Peter is not going to like it if I come back empty handed."
   The prisoner clicked her tongue and shook her head in mock sympathy. "I thought Peter's reward was your empty-headed daughter."
   Delphina struggled to keep from losing her temper. "You're making a huge mistake, because we're very close to finding them."
   "Oh, really? Is that why you came to see me? To let me know how close you're getting? I'll be sure to make a note of it my journal."
   Delphina took a deep breath and forced it out through her nose.
   "Don't attempt to sound intelligent Feenie. It just doesn't work for you. You can take this information back to Peter. Tell him I'll give him a head start. He can get in his plane and start flying as far away from this continent as possible. Because in two weeks--with absolutely no help from you--I'll be out of here. She pushed away from the table and stood up, her large frame towering over her shrinking sister.
   "That's a promise."