The blonde girl turned her head and smiled a little. "Hi. Thanks for coming." She didn’t answer the question as to her own well-being.

"No need for thanks." Megan sat down in the other chair and surveyed Joe without speaking. She was a little taken aback at the monitors and tubes still attached to him, but realized that of course the hospital personnel were keeping a close eye on his progress. Vanessa, too, sat silent, gazing abstractedly at the floor, where late-afternoon sunlight spread pools of warmth.

Finally, the younger girl stirred and spoke. "Mr. and Mrs. Hardy have both been in and out, but they went to get something to eat a little while ago. Letting me have some time alone with Joe…nice, huh?"

"Very nice," Megan agreed gently.

"Megan—" Vanessa’s voice was choked with the onset of tears. "he hasn’t moved at all. It’s like he was…was…dead…." Vanessa dropped her face into her hands and wept. Megan got up and put her arms around her friend, and held her close, letting her cry.

Vanessa finally wiped away her tears and sat back in her seat. "It was bad enough when they just thought he was hurt, but now…now…"

"What’s happened?" Megan asked sharply.

"When the blood tests came back, they f-found that there was Rohypnol in Joe’s bloodstream – that’s one of those drugs that knocks people out, you know? They think someone forced it down him – or injected him with it, maybe – after he hurt his head. And no one seems to know what that combination of things will do to him." She chuckled bitterly. "I guess it doesn’t happen very often, huh?"

Megan gasped in horror. "That’s terrible! That’s just awful, that someone could do that to Joe!" She hugged Vanessa again, trying to lend some comfort.

"And – and now – the d-doctor said – he said that he doesn’t know when…or if…Joe will wake up." Vanessa quavered. "I’m trying to be strong, I really am. I know Joe’s strong….But I’m s-so s-scared, and upset…and all I want to do is cry and cry…." Abandoning her attempts at control, Vanessa put her head down, buried her face in the blanket covering Joe, and sobbed heartbrokenly.

Megan, her own eyes filling with sympathetic tears, hugged and patted and soothed as best she could, until Vanessa finally sat back and tried to wipe some of the dampness from her face.

"Your mom called me," Megan admitted softly. "She was worried about you, honey. She told me you said you didn’t want to go to graduation if Joe can’t be there." Carefully, Megan did not say what Andrea had said: ‘She won’t go if Joe doesn’t make it….’ That sounded much too final!

Vanessa nodded emphatically, sniffled, and blew her nose on a tissue. "Yes, that’s right. I won’t go if Joe doesn’t. I’m not that enthused about the actual ceremony anyway – but I loved the idea of walking down the aisle with Joe, hand-in-hand, in our caps and gowns – and I don’t want to go through it without him. It’s that simple."

Megan thought about that for a little while, still patting Vanessa gently. "Maybe I’m wrong, here," she said at last, "but have you thought about going through it FOR Joe? If he ends up not being able to do it himself, I mean? You could get his diploma for him – not only be there for yourself, but stand proxy for him." Vanessa opened her mouth to protest, but Megan continued without letting her interrupt. "Wouldn’t that be better, Van? To let people know that he’s down – temporarily – but he’s not totally out?"

Vanessa stared at her friend glumly, and sighed. "You’re right – as usual. I hadn’t thought of it that way. Why do you always have to be right, Megan, darn you?"

The little redhead chuckled. This wasn’t the first time she’d fielded a question like this, and the opportunity was too good to miss; Vanessa had walked right into it. "I’m always Wright – and I’ll always BE Wright – until I marry and change my name, that is!"

Vanessa spluttered and nearly choked on a combination of laughter and tears, and hugged Megan fiercely.

"I know how you feel, though," Megan went on at last. "I’d just lost my dad when I graduated last year." Vanessa bit her lip in compunction; she’d known that, but had forgotten. "I didn’t feel like going through the ceremony; it seemed so pointless – but I did. I did it because my mother told me how proud Dad would have been. How proud he was, even if he wasn’t there in person to see it. That’s how I know you should do this for Joe…but Van, you don’t have anything to worry about, because Joe IS going to wake up in time, and he’ll be there to walk the walk with you! I know he will! Joe’s too stubborn to do anything other than that."

Vanessa managed a shaky laugh. "He’s doing this just to get out of rehearsals," she suggested.

"Exactly!" Megan pounced on the idea. "He’ll wake up when he’s good and ready, and you can give him what-for, for scaring everyone so."

The two girls lapsed into silence for a few minutes, broken eventually by Vanessa.

"I want him to be there, Megan," she whispered. "I want him there so bad! I don’t think I can stand it if he’s not!"

"And he will be," the other girl assured her. "Joe won’t let you down, you know that. If there’s anyone a person can depend on, it’s Frank and Joe."

"Uh-huh." Another period of silence, then Vanessa spoke again. "I haven’t had a chance to tell you about our dinner at Miracles Can Happen on Saturday. That is the most amazing place, Megan, you and Frank have got to go there!" With rising enthusiasm, Vanessa described the décor, the food, and the things Joe had said when he gave her the locket.

"It was one of the happiest nights of my life – what Joe said was – just…incredible. He told me I’d taught him how to love again, when he thought he couldn’t anymore. He said I’d brought light and warmth into his life…" Vanessa broke off, unable to continue, as she compared the memory of Joe’s animated, tender face that night with the shuttered, withdrawn expression she saw now.

A light knock on the door interrupted their conversation. An orderly was there, holding towels and bathing supplies.

"Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but I’m here to give young Mr. Hardy a bath. You want him to be all nice and clean when he wakes up, don’t you? He’s a mighty lucky guy, to have you pretty girls visiting him!"

Blushing pink, both Megan and Vanessa nodded and hastily got to their feet.

"I’ll need about fifteen minutes or so," the orderly continued. "Maybe you can go get something to eat, or drink; stretch your legs, maybe."

"All right," Vanessa assented, and she and Megan exited the room. For a moment they stood in the hallway, indecisive about what to do.

"Are you hungry?" Megan inquired. She glanced at her watch. "It’s after four – did you have lunch? It’s early for dinner."

"No, I didn’t, but I’m not hungry," Vanessa responded. "Let’s just take a walk, or something."

The girls started down the hallway, heading for the elevators, but halfway there, they encountered one of the nurses who had been looking after Joe. She smiled warmly at them.

"Hi, girls. How’s Joe doing?"

"About the same, I guess," Megan replied. "An orderly just came in to give him a bath – that’s why we’re out here."

The nurse looked surprised. "A bath? That can’t be right – all the baths on this floor were already done, earlier today. I did Joe’s myself!"

"Oh, NO!" Megan and Vanessa looked at each other in shock, and as one, turned and pelted back down the hallway as fast as they could go, with the nurse hurrying behind.

They hurled themselves through the doorway to Joe’s room, just in time to see the orderly pull a needle out of a bottle he was holding in his hand. The man looked up, startled, and more swiftly than a striking snake, plunged the needle into Joe’s arm!

*****

Frank knelt beside the splotch of blood, studying it intently. He couldn’t say for sure that it was Joe’s blood, of course, but he was almost positive it had to be. Who else’s would it be, after all? He touched it with a fingertip, then sat back on his heels, staring meditatively at the broken branch beside him. He picked one end up and held it for a moment, frowning at it as if he expected it to talk to him and tell him what had happened to his brother.

The branch, however, remained uncooperative, and Frank was forced to rely on himself to find the answers. He looked up into the tree, and could clearly see where this branch had broken off. With sudden clarity, he realized that this must have been how Joe was initially knocked out. The branch broke, and he fell – no one hit him on the head! Now he noticed the thorns protruding from the branches, and another puzzle was solved: that’s how Joe got all scratched up – climbing through the thorny branches, and then falling!

But that didn’t explain the Rohypnol!

Still frowning thoughtfully, Frank got to his feet and played his flashlight around the base of the tree, over the sweetly-scented flowers growing about it. He noticed a small indentation in the foliage, and reached down to see if he could find the cause….

And came up holding a small electronic device that he recognized: Joe’s new mini-recorder. Bingo!

If I didn’t have proof before, I sure do now! This is definitely Joe’s new recorder. This is the mansion that Joe followed the other car to. He didn’t tell me what it was, so I can’t identify a car, damn it…. This is where he was last…whole! Frank concluded bitterly.

All right, now I need to check on the violin, since that’s what this whole thing was about in the first place….Why in the world would that kid, Zacary, have taken Allison’s violin? He’s a cellist, not a violinist, and he doesn’t appear to need any money! Frank looked at his surroundings in the twilit dimness. Very nice digs…fancy grounds, three story house, very big, nothing but the best…. He shook his head; it made no sense at all.

He stole up to the nearest windows and tried a couple, hoping to find one open, but didn’t have any luck with them; everything on the ground floor appeared to be tightly locked against intrusion. At last he spotted a set of French doors that might open – but they were on the next level; opening onto a small patio that extended over a part of the lower level of the house. Looks like that’s my best bet!

Frank shinnied up another tree, grateful that the owner of this place appreciated trees so much, and had planted many of them close to the house! Some careful balancing and quiet scrambling brought him at last to a safe landing on the little patio. He crept silently across it, and peered through the glass panes of the door.

It was dark inside, but he could see enough to know this wasn’t a bedroom. It appeared to be a library or a den; at least there were a lot of shelves visible! With some trepidation, Frank tried the door, and thrilled when it opened to his gentle efforts!

Cautiously, silently, he slipped through the door, and closed it gently behind him. He walked soundlessly across the room, to the doorway leading into the rest of the house, and found himself looking into a long hallway. He wasn’t sure where to begin looking for the violin; all he could do was hope and pray that it was out in the open, somewhere.

"But, Uncle Peter…" the sound of a voice, coming from down the hall, caused Frank to freeze, and then quickly squeeze into an empty room. He listened intently, but could only catch a few words here and there. It was Zacary, he was sure of that, and apparently the person he was speaking to was named Peter, but other than that, Frank could not follow the conversation. He waited, breathlessly, until the voices moved into the hallway and faded away, moving further and further from his hiding place.

Trying to move even more soundlessly than before, Frank continued his infiltration. He eventually found a set of stairs, and tiptoed down them, hoping that the violin was kept in a living room, or one of the other downstairs rooms. Since all the people occupying the house seemed to be upstairs, down was the safest place to be, at any rate!

The living room, when he found it, felt like a museum. Lit at one end by a showcase light shining directly on one wall, it was filled with antiques, from Ming vases to medieval swords – but nothing resembling musical instruments! Even the furniture was very old – and probably very expensive, as well. It was interesting, and beautiful, but no help to Frank in his quest.

He exited the living room and went down another hallway into another room, also dimly lit with soft little spotlights. Not daring to turn on more lights, Frank shined his flashlight around – and saw that his instincts had been good. He’d hit pay dirt, he was sure of it! This was definitely a music room, if the large grand piano in one corner was any indication. He noticed several other musical instruments as well, both brass and string varieties.

And then Frank stopped, frozen in wonder, peering at one particular floor-to-ceiling glass case.

On the floor of the case rested a large, many-stringed, ornately decorated harp. Frank had no doubt whatsoever that it was of the highest quality, and very expensive. Next to it stood a string bass, and above it, in its own separate compartment, was a cello…and above that there was a violin.

Allison’s Strad! Although he had no proof – indeed, going on an intuitive leap which would have made Joe envious – Frank was positive this was Allison’s stolen instrument. He stared at the one remaining empty spot in the case – where, he assumed, a viola would go. Did that mean that they didn’t have a viola – yet?

Frank reached into his pocket and pulled out his tiny camera. He shot frame after frame – tempted to just take the violin and depart with it, but he was afraid if he did that, then the men responsible for hurting Joe would not be prosecuted. He knew enough of criminal procedures – it’s about time those classes did me some good! – to know about unlawfully-obtained evidence. Even the pictures were a bit on the questionable side. But if I can get someone to come look at the blood by the tree – legally – then I can convince them to look inside. And they’ll find Alli’s violin!

Finally finishing snapping photos, Frank was about to depart as silently as he had come, when he felt his arm seized in an iron grip. A gruff voice spoke behind him:

"If you even think about moving, you’re going to lose that arm – and a lot more than that!"