Were members of the inner circle of the gold collective – Trevor, Jeremy, Amy, and others on the opposite side?  Were they the inheritors of the historical chase to grab the legendary gold cache of Mr. Pimms,  the “trust” of 1924, and others?  In that history, it was clear those doing the chasing had stopped at nothing in their effort to get their hands on the gold, beginning with Mr. Pimms’ brutal execution of  Edward Harranby, to the ruthless disposal of that brave double-agent in Sylvia’s report.  Somehow, they’d managed to create a case against her, and pushed the system to jail her in a maximum security prison, charged with the murder of her husband. 

Peter had warned her members of the inner circle of the gold collective had been equally ruthless in their pursuit of their agendas, stooping to the manipulation of spouses and loved ones of their targets to get what they wanted. 

Could she trust people like them to keep their word, if she handed the information to them?  Or would she, Tina, and her family and friends be perpetually haunted by the specter of “being disposed” off as well at some point in the future?

Did they think she had more than the codes?  Did they suspect she knew where the gold was?

How long did she have? 

Aaarrggghh!

Last night, she’d tossed and turned, thinking she needed to get outside.  Her body, unaccustomed to day after day of inactivity, because Bette had been working for hours on end in either her office in the Chelsea flat or in Phillip’s study, almost felt like it was cramping.

The next day, late in the afternoon, after waking early, having barely slept, and working almost through the day, Bette felt she’d finally hit a wall.  She was taking a mental break, sipping iced tea as she paced around the Chelsea flat, wearing out the carpet between her temporary office and the open-space living room and kitchen areas of Jenna’s flat.  She half-listened to Jenna as she walked around restlessly.  Jenna was preparing to meet with a gallerist that she’d bought a painting from during the mid-May “Frieze New York ” fair, one of the world’s leading contemporary art fairs, held annually in Randall’s Island in Manhattan, to see if the gallerist could host a winter-season exhibit for the group of young artists that Jenna was mentoring.   Bette nodded her understanding regarding what Jenna was trying to do, but the brunette just couldn’t engage with the redhead on it.