The two men looked at each other, and their curses blistered the air. One of them made another grab at the camera strap, yanking to get it over her head, but encountering his partner’s arm, was forced to desist. Megan kicked at him again, and stamped her foot down on her captor’s, wishing she was wearing high-heeled boots instead of sandals.

Suddenly, she felt a hard shove connect, and she fell backwards, landing solidly on the pavement as the man released his hold on her. Shaken but unhurt, Megan protectively clutched the camcorder and strap in both arms, and let out another screech. Someone’s got to hear me!

Someone had; running footsteps announced the arrival of help, and Megan saw Vanessa charge into the alley, screaming "Let her go! Leave her alone!" Vanessa reached the little group, but before she could do more than slap at the attackers, who were again grabbing for the camera, an authoritative voice yelled "LET THEM GO!"

Megan stared, bewildered. Standing at the end of the alley, glaring balefully at the two men who had attacked her, was Cameron Jacobs! He rushed into the alley, grabbed one of the men by the scruff of the neck and threw him to the ground, then whirled and kicked the other man’s rear, hard. "GET OUT OF HERE AND LEAVE HER ALONE!" Jacobs bellowed, and the two thugs took off running. Jacobs strode after them, and stood at the alley opening, as if to make sure they were gone. Then, he returned to the girls.

"Are you two all right?" he asked.

Vanessa had helped Megan to her feet and brushed her off, and was standing with her arm tightly about the shorter girl "I’m fine," she answered. "I just got here. Megan, are you okay?"

Megan nodded. "Yes." She was still bewildered. Why had Cameron Jacobs helped them? She didn’t like him at all, but still, he had just saved her from those goons, and she was grateful. "Thank you, thank you a lot." she said to him, smiling weakly. "You were great!"

"It’s nice to see people will still help other people occasionally." Vanessa observed. She was wary of Cameron Jacobs too, but what he had just done couldn’t be denied.

"I try to do it whenever I can," Jacobs said. "What were those two after, anyway?"

"They wanted this." Megan lifted the camcorder on its strap.

"My dear girl, surely a video camera isn’t as important as your life – why didn’t you just give it to them?" he questioned, reasonably.

"It’s not mine," Megan said. "It belongs to my boyfriend. He trusted me to take care of it."

Jacobs frowned slightly. "I’m sure he would understand – but if he values a camera over you, he needs to get his priorities straight!" he commented.

Megan bristled at that. "His priorities are just fine, thanks."

"I’d be happy to walk you girls back to your hotel." Cameron Jacobs changed the subject smoothly, and smiled at them warmly, his green eyes appreciative.

"Thank you, but I think we’ll be fine." Vanessa took charge. "We’re not quite done with our shopping, but we do appreciate the offer."

"Yes, thank you again for the rescue!" Megan chimed in, and managed to return Jacobs’ smile with one of her own, although it lacked some of its usual charm and sparkle.

"Any time," he replied, with a sketchy little bow, and watched them depart with those cool green eyes.

"Whew!" Vanessa blew out a relieved breath as they regained the busy, crowded sidewalk of the main street. "I’m glad he showed up, but I’m glad to be away from him, too!"

"Me too." Megan agreed. She glanced at her watch. "Shouldn’t Frank and Joe be getting back by now? If they were supposed to meet the guy at ten, even accounting for that taking some time, and them not hurrying back…really, they should be back, shouldn’t they? Or shouldn’t we have heard from them?"

"Probably whatever they learned made them take off to follow the next part of the case." Vanessa ventured a guess. "And maybe their phones wouldn’t pick up a signal, if they’re in the mountains."

"I suppose you’re right." Megan nodded. She sighed. "You know, I think I’m shopped out for now. Let’s go back to the hotel."

When Laura and Fenton returned to Caesars Palace, they found Megan and Vanessa sitting in the lobby, waiting for them. The girls told them of the attack on Megan, and that Cameron Jacobs, of all people, had rescued them from the assailants.

Fenton’s dark eyebrows raised expressively. "Now that’s something I wouldn’t have figured on!" he exclaimed. "From what I know of the man, it doesn’t seem to be in character."

Laura shook her head. "He probably did it to get on my good side." she commented. "He knows Megan and Vanessa are with us, and that we’d hear about it. He’s that type – quick to grab an opportunity like that."

"He really should know better," Fenton commented as he smiled appreciatively at his wife. "If he knew you any better, he’d know to lay off." 

"I think that’s the point, honey," Laura said as she brushed off some imaginary dust from the front of her blouse. "I don’t want him to know me any better." 

"What did you find out at the police station?" Vanessa asked eagerly.

"Well, I believe the lieutenant thinks I’m a real pest," Fenton grinned. "but a useful one. He didn’t fuss too much about violating the crime scene when I gave him the sunglasses and the tape! And they’ve figured out what sort of knife killed Evan Reed." Mr. Hardy continued. "It’s an unusual one – the best name the police can come up with for it is a curved half-katana. They’re specialty weapons; hand-built. The interesting thing about it, is there’s only one person currently in the area who is reported to own one…at least, that is registered as owning one."

"Yes?" Megan prompted, as he paused. "Who?"

"Someone we met on the lake cruise," Mr. Hardy said thoughtfully. "A man named Randall Claremont."

Vanessa caught her breath. "The letter ‘C’!"

*****

Frank wasn’t exactly sure what he was actually seeing, or if he was dreaming. It seemed like Joe was kneeling next to him, with his face turned away, looking back at something over his shoulder. What’s Joe looking at? Who’s talking?…it doesn’t sound like Joe.

Frank wanted to close his eyes and sleep, in the worst possible way, but every time he tried, Joe was there, talking to him, making him respond, waking him up. He didn’t want to wake up, he wanted to sleep. He was freezing cold, shivering, and his whole body hurt. Maybe if he went to sleep, he’d feel better.

He heard the voice again, sounding distant and muffled, and he tried to shift to see the speaker. That was a mistake. Fiery agony lanced through his body, and he gasped and squeezed his eyes shut in pain.

"Lie still, Frank." It was Joe speaking, softly. "Don’t move."

Why did he need to lie still? Was it an animal of some kind, threatening them? Frank opened his eyes again, and cautiously turned his head. There. He could see it now, past Joe’s rigid body. A man, a hat pulled low over his face, so that his features were obscured, with a rifle raised, pointed at…pointed at them? Why would he be pointing a gun at us? Frank saw Joe slowly raise his hands up into the air, but otherwise Joe didn’t move. He remained where he was, almost as if he was sheltering Frank with his own body. Frank tried to move again, to see better.

"Don’t move, Frank." Joe repeated, very quietly.

"That’s right." It was that other voice again – the man with the gun? It must be him. Frank was really too tired to care who it was, but the image nagged at him. Why was this guy pointing a gun at them? "Nice and slow, boy. I could blow your head off, better believe it. But it ain’t you I want, and I’m not of a mind to kill more than I have to, right now."

Frank missed the next few words, if indeed the man continued speaking. There was a strange buzzing in his ears, obliterating other sounds. He swallowed, trying to make sense of what was going on with his body. Pain. He remembered that well enough. Something…a rockslide! They were in the middle of nowhere, and the mountainside had come cascading down on him. Why were they here? He was supposed to be on vacation in Tahoe, wasn’t he? Why couldn’t he remember? Maybe later….

"You’re not killing my brother." Joe’s voice, harsh and grating and determined brought him back to the present again. Frank blinked and tried to look around, trying to make sense of this bizarre situation. He should do something, right? What could he do? If he moved…no. Moving was worse than painful, it was agonizing. And if he cried out in pain, the guy with the gun would know he was doing something…trying to do something. And the world kept phasing in and out, and his ears kept buzzing, and he was trying so hard to remember – having to consciously try to remember what had happened…and that they were in trouble. In danger.

Concentrating fiercely, Frank moved his right hand crabwise over the ground, seeking one of the rocks which littered everything. There are plenty of rocks…enough of them fell on my head…I just need to pick one up….

"I’m not going to let you kill him." Joe again. And that other voice, suddenly coming through with crystal clarity.

"Move away from him…now. Or I’ll shoot you both."

Fingers moved, searching over the rocks…hold onto it, don’t drop it…Frank turned his head again, and saw the gunman raise the rifle and sight it – aiming it at Joe! With a burst of energy that came from some unknown source, Frank Hardy grabbed a fist-sized stone, sat up behind Joe, screaming in agony as he did so, and hurled the rock with every ounce of strength he could muster. The missile hit the man in the stomach, causing him to drop the rifle to the ground as he doubled over. Joe lunged forward, diving at their attacker…and Frank collapsed back onto the rocky ground, and let darkness take him.

"Frank…Frank?"

There it was again, that disembodied voice – Joe, nagging at him, making him wake up, when he was so tired…so horribly tired. Frank forced his heavy eyelids up fractionally.

"Yeah?" It was barely a croak, scarcely a whisper of sound.

"Nice throw."

Joe was smiling down at him, and he tried to smile back. He noticed there was a bandage stuck slantwise on Joe’s cheek, holding split skin together, and what looked to be dried blood smeared on his face. How had Joe gotten hurt? Oh, yeah…rocks. Rockslide. That’s right…rocks….

"I’m sleepy…can’t I go to sleep now?" Frank whispered. "Please, Joe?"

"No, not yet. You need to hang on a little while longer, bro. Just until we make it out of here okay, then you can sleep; I promise."

Why did Joe look so sad and worried? They’d make it out of…here? Wouldn’t they? Where was ‘here’ anyway? Frank was too tired to try and remember.

"Talk to me a little bit. Do you remember what happened?" Joe busied himself with the travois once again, tightening the lashings, tying down the windbreaker sleeves over the springy pine boughs, tucking the first aid kit into a windbreaker pocket. He couldn’t believe what Frank had just done, sitting up and flinging that rock; taking out the gun and giving Joe the chance to fight. The sound of Frank’s scream still echoed frighteningly in his mind. He’d never heard Frank scream like that before. But he sat up! He sat up, remember? His back can’t be broken – or his spine damaged – if he managed to sit up! That’s good, right? It’s good! If only Frank didn’t look so fragile now….

"I remember the…rocks." Frank fought for the memories. "And you told me…it was a slide." He stopped and waited a few moments, trying to gather enough strength to continue. "We’re…in the middle of…nowhere." Why did Joe look so worried? They’d taken out the bad guy, hadn’t they? Nothing to worry about….

"Here we go – hang on…." Joe said softly.

Suddenly, Frank felt himself being raised, and shifted. Pain lanced through him again, and he cried out, but the movement didn’t stop; Joe was dragging him onto something bumpy and rough, and he wouldn’t stop, and it hurt, oh! how it hurt! Joe, please stop, please don’t do this, it hurts, please stop….

"Frank, lie still, please. Just take it easy. You’ve gotta be tied on; otherwise you’ll slip off and be hurt worse. Just stay still for me, huh? We’ve got to get out of here."

"Can I…go to sleep…now?" It was like a litany…he already knew the response before Joe answered him.

"No, not yet – stay with me a little while longer. Just till we get back to Tahoe."

Then whatever it was Frank was tied to, tilted upwards. The world began moving very, very slowly around him, and he heard Joe grunting with the effort of pulling. We must be starting back to Tahoe…but isn’t that a long way to walk? Joe shouldn’t have to drag me, I should get up and walk on my own….

"Jeez, Frank…just how much…weight have you put on? I think…you should…lay off the pizza…for awhile…." The words came in a series of disconnected mutters.

Frank tried to comprehend what was happening, but he was so very, very tired. He tried to keep his eyes open, to obey Joe’s repeated commands to stay awake….But the effort was too great, and he let them slide closed…and the world around him faded into nothing.