That instinctive move to flatten himself very probably saved him from serious injury, for just after he hit the deck, the edge of the large, circular Wheel-of-Fortune slammed down hard across his back!

Screams and shouts filled the air, and not only in the vicinity of the fallen Wheel. From across the casino other voices were raised in protesting outcries: "Someone’s taken my camera!" cried a woman. "Hey, my multi-media bag’s gone!" a man exclaimed in fury.

Laura paid no attention to the clamor. She was down on her knees beside Fenton, struggling vainly to lift the heavy wheel from where it rested on his back. "Fenton – Fenton!….Somebody help me, please!"

"Darling, don’t try to move!" Laura bent over him, her eyes filled with apprehension.

"No – no, it’s okay. I’m okay." Slowly, he pushed himself to his elbows, and then sat up, wincing. "Just give me a hand up; I’m all right." Several of the surrounding bystanders extended helping hands, and Fenton got to his feet. Once upright, he put an arm across Laura’s shoulders, leaning heavily on her. "Thanks!" he said to his helpers. "I owe you guys." He turned to his wife. "Let’s get out of here, huh?"

They walked slowly to the front entrance as the crowd parted to let them pass, Laura trying to support most of her husband’s weight. Once outside, they found a nearby bench, and Fenton sank down on it gratefully.

"You are hurt," Laura accused. "Don’t try hiding it from me!"

"It’s okay – I think it’s just bruised. But it does hurt a lot." he admitted. "I’m not positive I can walk all the way back to the hotel, that’s for sure."

"I can go back and get the car, if you don’t mind waiting here while I’m gone." she offered quickly. "Or we can take a cab…or maybe we should call an ambulance—"

"Let’s not!" he interposed hastily. "I don’t have any desire to go see a doctor, and it’s not all that bad, anyway."

"What if you’re hurt more than you think? Back injuries can be bad; you shouldn’t ignore them—"

"Laura, Laura – don’t worry! It just feels like a bad bruising, that’s all. A long soak in a hot tub and some ibuprofen, and I’ll be just fine." Despite Fenton’s reassuring words, he was pale and looked shaken, but Laura knew he wouldn’t be likely to give in to her importunities.

As they sat on the bench, still attempting to recover from the incident, Fenton and Laura could hear the conversation taking place between the casino security guards and the two theft victims, but there was too much background noise to make out all the words. Fenton was intrigued, and wished to get closer to hear what they were saying, but before he could try moving, two police cars swept up to the entrance, and the familiar figure of Lieutenant Hunt emerged from one of them.

The lieutenant was striding purposefully into the casino when he spotted the Hardys on their bench. He swerved to a stop.

"Mr. Hardy! And Mrs. Hardy! Nice to see you…" He paused, eyeing them uncertainly. "What’s happened? Were you two involved in the thefts—?"

"No," Laura replied for them. "Fenton had the bad luck to be standing beside the Wheel of Fortune inside the casino, and it fell on him."

"Fell on you?" Hunt exclaimed, shocked. He scowled, obviously shaken by this news. "You two wait here, if you would. I’d like to talk to you, after I interview these other people."

Fenton nodded without speaking. As the lieutenant and his aides went into the Grand Tahoe, Fenton leaned against his wife, and sighed deeply.

"Hon, I’m going to go into the gift shop and get you some ibuprofen; I don’t have any with me." Laura said decisively. "You shouldn’t have to wait until we get back to the hotel."

Rising, she walked briskly through the main entrance once more, heading in the direction of the gift shop, which she had noticed on their prior visit.

She was just coming out of the little shop, the pain medication secure in her purse, when she found herself waylaid by none other than Cameron Jacobs, who materialized out of nowhere and took her arm possessively.

"Why, Laura Hardy! Fancy seeing you here!" he murmured. "If your husband’s deserted you, I’ll be more than happy to buy you a drink...or will you take me up on my offer of lunch now?"

Laura stiffened, and replied in her chilliest voice – the tone she had once used to dissuade a certain rookie police officer, long ago in New York City. "No, thank you….My husband was injured by the Wheel-of-Fortune in your casino, Mr. Jacobs. Now, please let go of me; I’m expected outside to talk to the police."

"The police?" Jacobs sounded slightly startled, and released her. "Laura, you aren’t thinking of bringing charges against the Grand Tahoe for that, are you?" She shook her head in negation, and his voice mellowed once more. "Laura, please don’t be offended; I think you’re beautiful, you know. You shouldn’t be surprised that I’m attracted to you; I’m sure many people are."

"Laura…" He was behind her again, this time holding out something to her, smiling at her with that handsome face and winsome green eyes. "For you. A lovely flower for a lovely woman." In his hand was a single white rose, its cool creaminess glowing in the dim light of the corridor where they stood.

"No, thank you." She turned toward the snack bar once more, and kept walking. To her intense relief, he drew away. She requested and received the cup of water, and headed for the outside, hurrying a little. Fenton must be horribly uncomfortable; he needed her.

"Laura…" Somehow, Cameron Jacobs was there again in front of her, holding out a small case. She ignored his outstretched hand and attempted to side-step him, but he moved to intercept her. "In this box, Laura, is a diamond necklace. I’d like you to have it, as…just a small token of my…admiration."

Gritting her teeth, Laura stared up at him. "Mr. Jacobs, if you do not get out of my way and leave me alone, I am going to hit you!" She stamped past him, nearly spilling the cup of water, and swept out of the resort.

She plopped herself down beside Fenton on the bench, breathing heavily with anger, but trying hard to control it. She handed him the cup of water and fished the bottle of pain reliever from her purse. "Here, darling."

He opened the bottle and popped three capsules into his mouth, swallowing them down with gulps of water. "Thanks, honey….hey, what’s wrong? What happened in there?"

"I – it was that awful Cameron Jacobs!" she admitted reluctantly. "He’s a real jerk – an absolutely arrogant, thinks-he’s-God’s-gift-to-women heel! He’s despicable, and slimy and…" She broke off, shuddering expressively.

"He tried something on again?" Fenton’s scowl wasn’t entirely caused by pain, now. "He didn’t—"

"Don’t worry, I handled it." she reassured him. "He just makes me mad, that’s all."

"Let’s hear what happened?" he requested.

Fenton and Laura related all they could remember, which wasn’t much. Laura had not been near, and had only seen the Wheel start to fall. Fenton hadn’t seen or heard anything at all, and had only been alerted to the sudden danger by Laura’s cry. When Hunt had taken down their brief statements, Fenton ventured a question of his own.

"Lieutenant, is there anything new about the Caesars Palace murder that you could tell me? When we went to the police station this morning, the desk sergeant said you’d gone to Reno for the autopsy findings…."

"Any indications that it ties in with the other troubles?" Fenton inquired. "Or…uh…possibly anything to do with…enforcer-type crime? Does Tahoe have problems with that? Or maybe I should say, any new problems with that?"

Hunt shook his head. "No…not that I know of. It’s around, of course, but trouble is rare, even in Reno, and certainly less so here. It’s Vegas that gets that ilk."

Fenton wasn’t sure about that – he hated to abandon his theory – but his back ached, and he was tired, and unable to think very clearly. He seemed to have no energy at all to pursue any more questioning just now.

"Oh, yeah…" Lieutenant Hunt snapped his fingers. "One other thing. That boy you fished out of the water? He hasn’t said a word since we took him in. He won’t say why he jumped overboard; he won’t say why he ran in the first place. We’ve been talking to him about that, but he’s been a clam. I think he’s scared of something – something that frightens him more than a stay in a psych ward – or going to jail. But to be honest, except for his running and jumping overboard, we can’t really charge him with anything…we’re having a psych review done…."

Fenton looked up at Hunt, now interested in something other than the pain in his back.

"The waitress we talked to – a woman named Cecilia? – said she thought he was behind the poisonings…?"

Hunt shook his head. "No – I did check into that angle, but he didn’t have the opportunity. And he hasn’t been near the Grand Tahoe Resort itself; only on the cruise ship. Unless there’s a group of people doing this…." He stood up, and closed his notebook. "I’ll let you know if we get anything else out of him."

"What happened in there?" Laura indicated the casino. "We only heard a little bit of it – more robberies?"

"Mmm-hmm." The lieutenant looked disgusted. "Two more snatch-and-grab types. And I believe it indirectly involved you – we have reason to believe the thief brushed against the Wheel of Fortune as he made his escape, and that’s probably what knocked it over on you, Mr. Hardy." He surveyed them both, noting the tense, worried look on Laura’s face, and the exhaustion on Fenton’s. "Mrs. Hardy, could I have Corporal McAfee run you two back to your hotel?" he offered.

"Thank you, Lieutenant, we’d appreciate it very much." Laura took him up on his offer before Fenton could get a word in edgewise. She and Hunt assisted Fenton to the squad car, and the corporal whisked them through the noontime Stateline traffic and deposited them at the door of Caesars Palace.

"Come along, darling…you’ve got a date with a hot bath." Laura took his arm, for the sake of his ego making it appear she was clinging to him, rather than supporting him. "Let’s get you upstairs right away."

*****

Shivering and exhausted, Frank guided the jet-ski back to its home dock. As he approached, he looked for Joe and the girls, and was relieved to see them anxiously watching his approach, and that Megan appeared unharmed. He pulled up next to the dock, switched off the engine, and clambered off, wearily tossing the keys to the attendant with a dejected "Thanks."

"You lost him?" Joe murmured sympathetically. "We’re not having much luck, are we?….Hey, you okay? Where are your shoes?"

"Yeah, I’m all right. I had to kick off my shoes to swim for it," Frank explained. "I got dumped off out there." He gestured towards the lake with a toss of his wet hair. "The shoes are probably at the bottom of Lake Tahoe by now."

Megan approached, and wrapped her arms around him. "I’m glad you’re all right," she whispered, tiptoeing to kiss his cheek.

Frank laughed a little. "Better watch out; I’ll get you wet," he warned.

"No wetter than I got you yesterday," she returned, and kissed him again. "But you need to go back to the hotel and change," she added, feeling him shiver within her embrace. "You’re shaking."

"Okay, I’m not arguing." Frank let her guide him toward the street, and Joe and Vanessa followed closely, all of them a bit subdued by the latest incident.

By the time they reached the hotel, Frank’s clothes were merely damp, rather than dripping wet, and his mood had lightened a little, but he was glad to head up to their room and strip the clammy things off. Joe lounged on the couch, watching as his older brother donned another pair of shorts and a dry shirt, and searched out a second pair of shoes.

"I’m tired," Frank admitted somberly, sitting down to tie his shoes. "Tired in general, and tired of investigating something that isn’t going anywhere. And I’m damned tired of getting pushed off docks, knocked down by motorcyclists, and dumped into the Lake!"

"I know what you mean." Joe agreed. "The girls and I talked about it a bit while you were off on that jet-ski chase, but we couldn’t come up with any reason for that guy trying to toss Megan into the lake – well, other than that someone seems totally fixated on your camcorder, that is. I vote we give it a rest for a little while, and find something safe to do for the rest of the day." He paused, and blinked, reviewing his words. "Did I just say that?"

Frank chuckled. "Yes, you did, and I agree. Let’s go find the girls."

"Wait a sec…." Joe had glanced at their phone, and noticed the red message light blinking on the top. "Let’s see what this is." He punched numbers to retrieve the message, and listened, with a startled expresssion coming over his face. "It’s from Mom," he informed his brother. "Something happened to Dad!"

The two hurried from their room and knocked on their parents’ door. A few seconds later, it was opened by their mother, who smiled reassuringly at them. "It’s all right, don’t worry!" she said immediately, seeing their concern. "Come on in."

They entered hesitantly. Their father was stretched out on his stomach on the bed, his eyes closed.

"What happened?" Joe demanded.

Fenton opened his eyes sleepily. "A Wheel-of-Fortune fell on me." he mumbled.

"What?" Frank couldn’t believe his ears.

"You heard right." Fenton smiled wryly. "Of all stupid things to have happen…"

"Are you going to be okay?" Joe cut to the chase…as Joe almost always did. "Did you have a doctor take a look at it?"

"No – but it’s fine," his father replied. "It’s just bruised. I’m going to take it easy the rest of today, and I should be okay by tonight or tomorrow." He grinned ruefully. "I can’t see them, but your mother tells me the bruises are spectacular."

Frank stepped closer to the bed, and gingerly pulled up his father’s sports shirt. He winced at what was revealed: three large bruises which nearly covered Fenton’s back. "Ouch! That looks sore, all right."

"It’s mostly achy," Fenton assured him. "I’m going to try to work out the aches a little later. First, I’ve got to concentrate on getting on my feet again, though." Another rueful grin.

"What happened, exactly?" Joe asked again. "How did you get hit by a Wheel-of-Fortune?"

"Sheer dumb luck." his father replied, and closed his eyes again, without elaborating.

Laura cut in, explaining the robbery at the casino and the fact that the police suspected the thief had knocked the wheel down on his way past. "It wasn’t very sturdy, evidently, and Dad just happened to be standing under it."

Frank and Joe exchanged dubious looks. It sounded awfully convenient, but with no proof, what could they possibly question? It looked like nothing more than an unfortunate accident.

"What are you going to do now?" Laura was asking. "And where are Megan and Vanessa?"

"Well, we’d thought we were joining you for lunch." Joe reminded her, his blue eyes resuming their customary twinkle.

"Oh dear, you’re right." Laura laughed softly. "I think Dad and I are going to be ordering lunch from Room Service."

"We’ll take the girls and grab some lunch somewhere," Frank said decisively. "And then I think we’re going to spend some time at the pool, and maybe the beach again." He had intended on reporting the motorcycle attack and the jet-ski chase, but decided that this was definitely not the time to add to his parents’ worries. We’ll tell them later!

"That sounds like a good idea. Go and have a good time; that’s what we’re here for, after all!" she said. "I think I’m going to read, and probably take a nap – and make sure your father rests." she added, with a teasing glance at her husband.

"Okay, Mom. We’ll get out of here and let Dad rest." Frank bent to kiss her cheek, and laid his hand briefly on his father’s shoulder. "Take it easy, Dad. We’ll check back in with you later."

A knock on the girls’ door produced their girlfriends in short order. Frank and Joe told them what had happened to Fenton, stressing that he was essentially unhurt, and then proposed lunch.

"What sounds good?" Vanessa mused, as they walked out of Caesars Palace, once again heading for the street, with its assortment of restaurants and stores.

"Let’s just walk and look, for a little bit," Megan proposed. "I’m sure someplace will catch someone’s fancy!" She glanced at Joe, with a twinkle in her eyes.

Accordingly, they set out down the block, enjoying the sunshine and the view of the blue lake waters as they went. Eventually they approached a little pancake house which bore a sign stating that they had ‘The Best Waffles in Tahoe!’

"There!" Joe pointed. "That!"

Vanessa gave him an incredulous look. "You had waffles for breakfast!"

"Yes, but those were hotel waffles. These are the best in Tahoe!" Joe grinned. "Don’t you believe the sign?"

She began to laugh, and was joined by Frank and Megan. "Sure Joe, I believe the sign. Well, if waffles at every meal is what you want, then I guess we can go along with it for once.…Whattya say, guys?"

Megan nodded, and began walking towards the entrance, tugging Frank by the hand. "I hope they have strawberry crepes…!"

*****

After lunch was done, the four teens decided a walk was in order, to work off the luscious things they’d had to eat. They headed towards the lakeshore, the combination of warm afternoon sun and a cooling breeze off the water making the walk an enjoyable experience.

Once down on the beach, they soon came upon a group of kids about their own ages, who had set up a net and were involved in a spirited game of beach volleyball. The Hardys and their girlfriends were hailed and invited to join in the fun.

"Want to?" Frank tilted an inquiring eyebrow, and received his answer in three enthusiastic nods. Accordingly, they divided up, one couple going to each team. Vanessa’s and Joe’s team hailed the addition of two six-footers with loud cheers, but the other team seemed glad to have Frank and Megan join them, too. At barely 5’2", Megan couldn’t spike, but she had a mean serve!

They happily played on, while the sun slowly dropped into the western sky. First the team Joe and Vanessa were on won, but the second game went the other way, and Frank’s team was the victor. Although everyone wanted a third round, to break the tie, three of the kids reluctantly admitted that they needed to return to their hotel, and the game broke up.

"Let’s go back and mess around by the pool." Joe proposed, as they left the volleyball area.

"That sounds wonderful!" Vanessa agreed. "I’ve been wanting to do that, and we haven’t seemed to have the time."

"I’d like it too." Megan nodded. "You haven’t seen my new swim suit." she added to Frank, whose dark eyes lighted with his anticipatory smile. "BUT," she continued, "tomorrow I really want to go to Vikingsholm. I’m determined to get there."

"Baby, we’ll get to Vikingsholm if it means dragging Joe all the way there and back; I promise."

Accordingly, they hurried back to Caesars. Frank and Joe checked in with their parents, and found Laura reading on the balcony, and Fenton watching TV. The boys described their afternoon’s activities, and then headed for the pool.

When Megan took off her terrycloth cover-up, her two-piece suit of aqua and black print brought forth wolf whistles from both Frank and Joe. She blushed crimson, but dimpled, nonetheless. "Thanks – but wait until you see Vanessa," she commented, looking slightly envious. "She looks like a fashion model!"

Indeed, she did. Vanessa had chosen a black, one-piece suit, and tied her blonde hair high off her neck in a bouncy ponytail. With her long legs and aristocratic bearing, she could have graced any model’s runway. Joe’s eyes nearly bugged out when he looked at her, and a second series of whistles resounded from both boys. Vanessa laughed and tossed her ponytail, and sauntered past them, casting a teasing glance over her shoulder.

"I’ll just stay submerged all the time; you won’t want to be seen with me!" Joe muttered in chagrin, stripping off his oversized tee shirt to reveal baggy blue draw-string swim trunks.

"Joe, you look great, don’t talk like that! I love what that blue does for your eyes." Vanessa eyed his muscular form fondly. "Come on, I’ll race you." She took his hand and pulled him toward the pool’s edge.

Megan waited patiently for Frank to take off his shirt and join her in the water, but he seemed just the least bit reluctant, fussing around with lounge chairs and towels until she finally asked: "Frank, aren’t you coming in?"

"Uh, yeah…I’m coming." he muttered, and slowly took off his shirt…and then, even more slowly, unzipped the khaki shorts he was wearing over his swim suit. Megan watched, her eyes twinkling at his evident shyness – and then widening, as she saw what he was wearing.

"Wow!" she exclaimed. "When did you get that?"

He grinned. "Couple of days ago." Somewhat self-consciously, he walked to the pool, clad in the dark-red, stretchy Spandex Speedo suit he’d purchased their first day in Tahoe. It showed off more of his lean, ripped frame and long legs than he usually revealed, and was flattering in the extreme. "You like it?"

Wordlessly, she nodded.

*****

When they returned to their rooms an hour or so later, Joe started to head for the shower, when again, he noticed the message light was blinking on their phone.

"Again? Now what?" he muttered. "I hope Dad’s not worse!"

Frank picked up the receiver and dialed for the message. As he listened, his face took on an incredulous look, and he started frantically writing on the note pad. When he replaced the receiver, he turned to Joe, his dark eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Listen to this!" He read from the paper. "If you want to find out about the thefts in Tahoe, meet me on Mount Rose Highway tomorrow. Five miles the other side of the ski resort, there’s an access road. Take that road in ¾’s of a mile. If you aren’t there by ten a.m., don’t come at all. I won’t wait around."