Greta and Wayne Albritton learned early in their dancing careers to keep smiling no matter the circumstances. Whether they were working on crowded lounge stages or playing to a packed Stardust showroom, they were professionals. Dancing was their passion.

These days the Albrittons are forced to remind themselves that the show must go on after being cleaned out of their retirement nest egg in the growing Southwest Exchange scandal.

Other investors lost more money than the $433,294.91 the Albrittons entrusted with Southwest to take advantage of the IRS 1031 exchange rules that allow the sale of real estate and the reinvestment of the proceeds without paying capital gains tax. But that money, which resulted from the sale of a small cabin in Kyle Canyon the couple had spent the better part of three decades nurturing and redecorating, was the manifestation of their dancers' retirement plan.

Wayne was dancing at the Stardust when he bought the cabin, which was hopelessly snow-damaged. Starting in the early 1970s, he rebuilt it from the foundation. He lived in the cabin for years and kept his horse, Blackjack, on the property.

When he met Greta, the couple enjoyed the cabin until they moved to Palm Springs, where Wayne began working as a dancer and singer in "The Fabulous Palm Springs Follies" show at the Plaza Theatre.

Like most stage gypsies, the Albrittons worked for love but not much compensation. Other professions offer elaborate and occasionally generous retirement programs, and even the lowest-paid union employee at a casino has a pension program, but in general, dancers keep hoofing until their bodies give out. Then they limp off into other work with more memories than money.

As they approached retirement, they sold the cabin and were directed to Southwest Exchange. The 1031 transactions are shepherded through a "qualified intermediary" and placed into an account until the transfer is completed.

That's where Southwest Exchange came in, and that's where the money belonging to the Albrittons and dozens of investors owed many millions went out. One educated estimate places investor losses at more than $87 million.

In their case, the Albrittons got the sinking feeling something was wrong when they instructed Southwest CEO Donald McGhan to send them their funds, and the wire transfer failed. They received excuses from McGhan. At one point, he implored them to be patient and not go to the authorities. They would be paid, he promised. McGhan, they recalled, even apologized for the inconvenience.

That was the last they heard from him, and Southwest Exchange suddenly closed in late January.

Since then, authorities ranging from the Nevada secretary of state's office to the FBI have been looking into what happened at Southwest Exchange and, most importantly, where everyone's money went.

"When it hit us, I thought, 'Oh, my God,'" Greta says. "I couldn't believe it was true. It was emotional. It's still emotional. It was emotional to the point I couldn't stop crying. All of a sudden, our plan we've been planning for the 21 years we've been together, it's gone. The only reason Wayne and I have anything is because of our real estate. We don't have any kind of pensions or health insurance. We have to pay for all that."

"The cabin was my love," Wayne says. "It was hard for me to even sell it. It contained so many memories. It was my love and our money, and now we don't have either one of them."

He figures he has lost more than $450,000, including the cost of fixing up the cabin for sale. He's left with troubling questions.

"No one has said anything to us as far as where this money has gone," he says.

Like other Southwest investors, the Albrittons are looking for some answers as they try to adjust to the idea their retirement plan may well have been shredded by an unscrupulous operator.

They consider themselves optimistic people. Greta danced for 17 years up and down the Strip, and she manages to laugh that most of the hotels whose stages she graced have been imploded. Wayne, who has danced all over the world, still gives it his all down at the Plaza Theatre with a troupe of retired Rockettes and Broadway and nightclub veterans.

"I'll tell you one damn thing," Wayne says. "It's hard to get on the stage and give it a big smile these days."

John L. Smith's column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. E-mail him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call 383-0295.