He was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that an alarmed Vanessa asked him if he was all right. His knuckles had turned white again. Fenton consciously relaxed his grip, flexing his fingers. "I’m all right, but I’m an idiot," he informed Vanessa ruefully. "I should have said or done something last night, but I let the fact that the Claremonts had rescued Frank and Joe cloud my thinking. Obviously, I’m getting old and senile!"

"You are not getting old and senile, and you’re not an idiot!" she denied. "You’re being much too hard on yourself, Mr. Hardy – anyone else in your place would have thought the same thing you did."

Fenton swung into the hospital parking lot, rammed the car into the first space he spotted, and he and Vanessa hurried across the asphalt to the hospital entrance. As they entered the building, they came face to face with a team of police officers escorting a violently protesting Randall Claremont out.

"Hardy! You’ve got to believe me – I didn’t try to hurt your son, I swear it!" Claremont shouted, reaching to grasp Fenton’s arm and halt his progress. "I found someone else trying to hurt him when I went into his room; I’m not the one who did it!"

Fenton stared at him, loathingly. He wanted to hurl the man against the wall, to hurt him in payment for what he might have done to Frank…but instead, he jerked his arm free and swept down the hall, with Vanessa scuttling in his wake. He needed to get to his children. I wonder if Lisa was in on it too, or if he waited until she had left, so that she wouldn’t know what he was doing? His mouth curved in a bitter smile. He found it ironic that he was willing to give Lisa Claremont the benefit of the doubt, even after what had just occurred. He had wanted to trust the Claremonts…both of them…to think better of them – and it had nearly gotten Frank killed!

He and Vanessa rushed to get an elevator, and soon were emerging on the fifth floor. They hurried down the hallway and burst into #538, where they found the room full of people. Megan was sitting next to Frank’s bed, clutching his hand tightly in both of hers. Her face was tight with tension, and tears overflowed her azure eyes and streaked her cheeks, dripping on their clasped hands.

Laura had been perched on the edge of Joe’s bed; as her husband entered the room, she rose and rushed into his embrace.

"Oh Fenton! We only left him for a few minutes; we were walking Joe down to get something to eat—" She clutched at him frantically. "He wasn’t alone when we left…" She stopped speaking and swallowed, trying to get herself under control before continuing. "There was a nurse with him when we left, changing his bandages…."

"When I left, I thought he was asleep." The nurse in question was in the room too. "I thought he was okay – I had no idea he wasn’t supposed to be left alone! None of us knew someone might try to kill him!"

Frank was lying quietly, awake, but still ashy-pale; much whiter than he had been when Fenton had seen him earlier that morning. He was gently caressing the back of Megan’s hand with his thumb, evidently trying to calm and reassure her with that small gesture, since he was unable to hold her in his arms the way he wanted to. It’s all right, Baby…I’m okay. Despite his own upset, Frank’s primary concern was Megan.

Fenton smiled a little at the sight, feeling relief sweep over him as he took in the fact that Frank appeared to be unharmed. "Frank, can you tell me what happened, son?" he asked.

Frank gave his head a little shake. "Dad, I don’t know what happened," he said quietly. "One minute I was asleep, and the next, I couldn’t breathe. I don’t remember what happened then; I guess I blacked out. When I came to, some man was standing here yelling that he didn’t do it, it was somebody else."

Laura’s eyes were filled with sadness. "I didn’t want to believe you were right, Fenton," she whispered. "I didn’t want to believe that the Claremonts could be behind all this trouble. They were so nice on the ship – I just couldn’t believe it of them! Why? Why would they do this?"

"I don’t know what kind of motive they had, honey," Fenton admitted. "At least, not for killing Evan Reed. I suppose it had something to do with the gambling debts Cameron Jacobs said he had." He sighed deeply. "It’s a relief to have it over with, and him caught."

"He kept saying he wasn’t guilty, though," Laura said unhappily. "He kept claiming that he came into the room and found another man leaning over Frank and suffocating him with a pillow. He said he tried to stop him, to pull it back – but the orderly said when he came in, there was just Randall with the pillow in his hands, and Frank unconscious!"

A man in policeman’s uniform appeared at the door, prepared to take statements – but no one could tell him anything. Not even Frank. Fenton did mention that the Reno police might want to talk to Lieutenant Hunt at Stateline. "The suspect, Randall Claremont, may be a suspect in a murder case there – and I’m fairly sure that case has something to do with why the attempt was made on my son."

"All right, I’ll call him as soon as I get back to my office," the police detective nodded. He departed once again, going out to talk to any of the hospital personnel who might have been in the area at the time of the attack.

"Okay…now you’ve got to tell me," Frank was beginning to regain some color, and he loosened his grip on Megan’s hand to cautiously touch the button which raised the head of his bed. Once he was slightly elevated, Frank continued: "Why are all these people trying to kill me?" He stared challengingly around the room at his family and friends.

"Oh…that’s right – you don’t know!" Megan covered her mouth with one hand, and her eyes widened. Hastily, she swiped at her cheeks, dashing away the remnants of tears – no time now for emotional spasms; there was business to conduct! "It’s the camera, Frank – you filmed a murder!"

"I what?" Frank blinked. "Baby, maybe you’d better call a nurse, because I think I’m hallucinating…I’d swear you just said I filmed a murder."

"I did!" his girlfriend informed him. "When you filmed the video of us standing with the Roman statues – there was a reenactment rehearsal going on in the background – at least, that’s what we thought. But it wasn’t – it was someone killing Evan Reed, right there behind us!" She shivered a little, recalling the scene on the video tape. "You caught it on film, Frank."

"My God…" Frank murmured. "I never noticed it at all – I mean, I just saw them in the background, and figured it would be fun to have some more of it on film." He looked over at his father. "And that’s why I’ve been a target for the past four days? Someone thinks I’m a witness?"

"I believe so, yes." Fenton replied. "It should stop now – now that Claremont has been apprehended."

"Wow….Well, that explains a few things…."Frank’s voice faded off, and suddenly his eyelids drooped with weariness.

"Why don’t we let them both rest?" Laura suggested softly, looking from Frank to Joe, who had abruptly fallen asleep, tired out from the walk to and from the cafeteria, and the excitement following. "Yes, honey, you may stay for awhile if you want to," she added to Megan, anticipating the protest. "But when he’s asleep, take a break, all right? I guess we don’t have to watch him like a hawk anymore." Both her voice and her eyes were sad, thinking of Randall Claremont and her misplaced trust in him and Lisa.

*****

The next day….

"’Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty I’m free at last!’—" Joe exulted. He was overjoyed to be checking out of the hospital – he hated hospitals! He chuckled a little, thinking about it – he’d nearly killed himself to get Frank to a hospital…and get himself here too, of course…but he really didn’t want to be here! He finished tying his shoes, delighted to be wearing shoes again, and glanced over at the occupant of the other bed, who was watching him enviously.

"Wish you were coming too, bro," he said to Frank sympathetically. "But it’ll be only a couple more days!"

"I know," Frank smiled a little. I know…it’s only almost the whole rest of my vacation, that’s all, he thought wistfully, but he managed to squelch the thought. After all, he was lucky to be alive to be able to resent missing his vacation!

"Mom, I guess – I suppose I could stay with you – keep Frank company—" Joe ventured, glancing at Laura. Her eyes grew large with surprise at this magnanimous offer from Joe, who had made it plain he wanted nothing more than to leave the confines of Washoe Medical Center and never return, but before she could reply, Frank was interrupting his brother.

"NO!" he said firmly. "I’m going to be just fine without you here – don’t you ever listen to me when I talk?"

"Not when I can avoid it!" Joe muttered aside to Vanessa, grinning.

"I’m fine!" Frank insisted, giving Joe a dirty look. "I don’t want all of you missing out on your vacation just because of me! If you do, I’ll suffer horrible pangs of guilt, and it will eat at me day and night, and I’ll have to undergo years of psychiatric therapy to get rid of all the guilt, and—" His voice was drowned out by whoops of laughter from his brother and Megan’s rippling giggles. "See?" he concluded. "You don’t want me to have to go through all that, do you?"

Laura shook her head, laughing with the rest. "You aren’t getting rid of me that easily, my dear."

Frank glanced at her and took his argument to another quarter. "Baby, you’re going to go back to Tahoe, aren’t you?" he coaxed Megan. "You shouldn’t spend time sitting here with me when you could be on the beach with Vanessa and Joe."

"But I want to spend time with you…" she protested.

"I’ll be asleep a lot of the time anyway." Frank pushed his line of reasoning. "Please, Megan, you need to do all the sightseeing for both of us, now. Go see things and do things and take pictures and then come back and tell me all about it." Suddenly the dark eyes filled with sadness. "Oh baby, I told you we’d go to Vikingsholm, come hell or high water, didn’t I? And now I can’t keep my promise—"

"It’s okay – it’s okay, really!" Megan hastened to reassure him. "Maybe we’ll go there tomorrow, and then I can tell you about it, like you said." She leaned over the bed and cupped his wan face gently between her palms. "Don’t feel bad about it, Frank, please. I’m not sure I’ll be able to have much fun while you’re here, but I’ll try."

He reached up and returned the gesture one-handed, rejoicing that most of the extraneous tubes and wires had been removed from his good arm. "I love you, Megan Wright," he whispered. "I love you so much it’s scary." He raised himself up a little to press a gentle kiss against her lips, wincing as the movement pulled at his sore ribs. "Now scram, and I’ll see you tomorrow."

Reluctantly, Megan and Vanessa and Joe departed, joining Fenton in the hallway.

"Mom, are you absolutely positive you don’t want to go back to Stateline too?" Frank tried one more time.

"I’m not going to leave you here all by yourself," Laura declared. "I realize you’re going to sleep a good deal of the time, and I also realize you’re all grown up and don’t need babysitting – but being grown up doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t get lonely. I have plenty to do to keep busy – I bought several crossword books from the hospital gift shop, and a couple of novels that looked interesting. I’ll work on those when you’re sleeping, and I’ll be just fine."

Frank sighed. I wish she’d go too – I feel so guilty – she and Dad had looked forward so much to this trip, and now she’s missing everything, all because of me. But he knew Laura would brook no more arguments.

Fenton drove the now-familiar route to Tahoe, with Joe, Vanessa and Megan as his passengers. Joe enlivened the ride by repeating his story of the trek through the woods after the rockslide, for Megan and Vanessa wanted to hear it all again – and suddenly voiced a question he hadn’t thought of before.

"Dad – what happened to our motorcycles? They were rented…and they were ruined!"

"I believe the cycle rental place took a truck and got them, Joe," Fenton assured him. "Don’t worry, insurance covers the costs of replacing them."

"Oh…good." Joe took up his tale again, for once admitting just how hard that trip through the woods had been. "I really wasn’t sure we were going to make it out," he concluded. "Frank was hurt so bad, and all I wanted to do was collapse right there beside him." He sighed, and Vanessa reached to enfold his hand and squeeze it tightly in her own. "Probably the hardest thing I’ve done in a long time – except maybe for landing that plane, back in April!" he grinned ruefully.

"That rockslide was definitely sabotage, by the way," Fenton commented then. "It was rigged to go off when you went by – the guy shot out the supports, and that’s what caused all the rocks to fall."

"I still don’t understand why that Claremont guy was trying to kill us," Joe complained. "Did he really off Evan Reed?"

"I suppose so," his father replied. "All the evidence points that way. I just don’t have any clue as to a motive." Fenton frowned thoughtfully. He still didn’t feel right about Randall Claremont. "Perhaps the police will find out. I’m pretty sure it’s Mob-connected; after all, Reed had a gambling problem. You know how the heavies work, Joe – If you can’t pay your debts in one way, you pay them in another, less lucrative way…but pay them you do!"

"I’m just glad it’s all over," Megan said, from the front passenger seat. "and I wish Frank could have come back with us."

"There will still be time for him to enjoy some vacation after he’s released from the hospital." Fenton tried to console her. "We’ll just have to make sure those last three days make up to Frank for all the time lost in the hospital."

Megan smiled at that, and turned her mind to thinking up ideas to celebrate Frank’s return to the hotel in Stateline. Maybe we could have a surprise party – a small one, that wouldn’t tire him too much…what would he like to do, that he didn’t get the chance to?….Biking’s out – so is jet-skiing…hmmm…no parasailing….Her smile turned to a pensive frown.

It seemed like coming home, to drive into Stateline and head for Caesars Palace. Even though they’d been running back and forth between there and Reno for the past three days, they hadn’t stayed, and suddenly the opulent casino seemed homey and welcoming. Fenton pulled into the hotel’s parking lot, and turned off the motor.

"End of the line," he announced. "Everybody out!" He touched the button to pop the trunk lid, so they could reach the small bags they’d taken to Reno.

Megan hopped out of the passenger seat, and hovered impatiently while Vanessa got out, followed more slowly by Joe. Vanessa took his arm, and Megan grabbed their things from the trunk.

"Girls, would you mind taking Joe inside and getting him settled?" Fenton asked, then. "I want to try and check with the guy I have researching that jewelry crest; we’ve been playing telephone tag for about 24 hours now."

"Dad, they don’t have to ‘take’ me anywhere!" Joe objected. "I’m perfectly capable—"

"Hush." Vanessa put her fingers against his lips. "You’re a convalescent; you don’t get an opinion."

Fenton chuckled and got out of the car. He retrieved his small suitcase from the trunk as the teens moved slowly towards the hotel’s entrance.

Joe had been slightly put out at Vanessa’s rebuke, but by the time they had walked across the hot parking lot and through the colonnade to reach the hotel lobby, he had to admit he was getting very tired.

"Joe, do you want to sit down and rest?" Vanessa asked him anxiously, when they got inside. "You look awfully pale."

"No, no, that’s okay." Joe smiled at her. "But I guess I’d probably better take it easy today after all – would you two mind terribly if we spent the day by the pool, or doing sort of quiet stuff, rather than going out walking, or something energetic?" He sighed, looking forlorn. "I want to do something energetic…I just…don’t have the energy!" he griped.

"Sitting by the pool would be a very nice thing to do." Megan told him. "We’ve all had some very stressful days lately, and that sounds restful!"

"I agree," Vanessa said. "We don’t even have to swim – we can just lounge around and dangle our feet in the water." She took a long look at Joe, and her twinkling eyes softened with affectionate concern. "You sure you’re even up to that?"

"Yes, I’m up to that!" Joe gave an exasperated chuckle. "Come on, let’s get upstairs and change, huh?"

"Oh!" Megan gasped suddenly. "Your room! You didn’t hear about what happened to your room!"

Joe gave her a funny look. "What about my room?"

The girls told him of how the hotel room had been ransacked and searched and vandalized, and Joe listened in open-mouthed amazement.

"Well, if that doesn’t take the cake," he muttered, when they had finished. "I suppose whoever did it was trying to find the videotape, huh?"

"Yes, that’s what we decided," Vanessa said. "We – your mom and Megan and I – we tried to clear everything up, Joe, but things might not be where you and Frank put them….I’m sorry…."

He grinned at her and ran his hand lightly down the back of her silky hair. "Doesn’t matter at all, Beautiful; after all this, I don’t remember where we put anything anyway!"

She broke into laughter, exchanging a twinkling glance with Megan. "Well, I bet Frank wasn’t keeping his swimsuit on the chandelier!"

Fifteen minutes later the three met again at the elevators, Joe wearing shorts and a shirt over his swim trunks, and the girls clad in their swimsuits, but wearing overwraps and sandals as well. They headed for the second floor, where the pool was, but before they got there, Joe suggested a change of plans.

"I need food!" he announced. "Real food! I’m lucky to have survived on that hospital stuff for two days!" He tendered Vanessa and Megan his most charming, innocent smile. "You’ll grant this poor, suffering, convalescent his wishes, won’t you? I mean, if I don’t get something decent to eat soon, I’ll be too weak to walk…"

The girls laughingly turned in the direction of one of the hotel’s many restaurants. "It’s lucky we’re wearing this stuff over our swimsuits," Vanessa commented. "Otherwise we’d never be allowed to eat in here."

They found a table, and checking the time, decided to go with brunch items. Joe, with a blissful sigh, ordered waffles, which nearly sent Vanessa into hysterics.

"You’ve eaten waffles – every time – we’ve gone – out to eat!" she gurgled. "I don’t think you’ve – had anything else – the whole time!"

"Yes I have!" Joe defended himself. "We had Italian one night, remember? Spaghetti, calzone…remember?"

"He’s right, Van," Megan concurred. A dimple was dodging into sight in her cheek – a dimple which had been sadly absent, lately. "He didn’t have waffles then. I don’t think they were on the menu!"

When they finished eating, they once again headed for the pool – and once again, found themselves halted. For as they passed near the concierge’s desk, Megan waved at Jorge, and then stopped in surprise. Standing next to Jorge was none other than Thomas Streeter! Jorge beckoned to the teens, and they ambled over, curiously.

"This young man wants to speak with you," Jorge announced. "Hello, young Mr. Hardy; it’s good to see you doing so well."

"Thanks," Joe smiled at the concierge. "It’s great to be back."

"Hello, Thomas, it’s nice to see you again." Megan exerted all her considerable charm, for Thomas was looking very nervous. He kept glancing around, looking over his shoulder as if he expected something or someone to leap out at him from a dark corner.

"Joe, this is Thomas Streeter," Vanessa introduced the two young men. "He’s the guy who fell off the Royal Tahoe, that your dad rescued." Tactfully, she didn’t say The guy your dad chased off the Royal Tahoe. "Thomas, this is Joe Hardy."

"Hello…." Streeter cast a suspicious glance at Joe. "I – I wanted to talk to you – but somewhere private." he said to the girls. "I – I have something I need to tell you."

"You don’t need to be nervous anymore, Thomas," Megan told him kindly. "They caught the guy who tried to kill Frank."

The young man looked confused. "It isn’t that – that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about." He cast another wary glance around the lobby.

"Let’s go up to our room," Vanessa proposed. "No one will bother us there."

Once in the hotel room, the girls and Joe settled themselves comfortably, but Thomas paced the floor like a caged tiger, chewing his lip uncertainly, and frowning with indecision. Finally he wheeled around and confronted Megan. "I think I’ve figured out what’s going on." he announced abruptly.

"Okay…." She waited, unsure of where this was going. "Can you tell us?" she finally asked, when he remained silent.

"Yeah, yeah – you see…" Thomas moved over to the window, and stared out, his face white and his eyes fearful. Even though they were on the eighth floor, it was though Thomas expected someone to leap in through the windows at him. "Evan Reed was really one of my best friends. And I knew his girlfriend – you know, Emily. She was his fiancée, really."

He paused and looked around nervously again. It seemed to the waiting teens that Thomas wanted very much to tell them his story, but something was preventing him. He wanted to get it out, all of it – but wasn’t sure he could. He kept looking at the door, judging the distance, as if he was mentally trying to decide if he could get out before one of them caught him.

"Go on," Megan encouraged him again. Her voice was soft and persuasive, and she leaned her elbow on the table, and rested her chin on her fist. Her big eyes were fixed on Streeter’s face, and she smiled warmly at him. Joe, watching her, hid a grin behind his hand. She’s got some smooth technique there! he thought. I want her along every time we need to question somebody about something!

At that moment, there was a soft knock on the door. Thomas Streeter jumped as if it had been a pistol shot, and looked wildly around for a means to escape. When Vanessa opened the door, Fenton Hardy stepped into the room, walked over to one of the beds, and sat down quietly on it.

Now Thomas looked even more like a caged animal. He stopped pacing, but shrank against the wall nearest the door, as if he wanted to fling it open and flee.

"I didn’t mean to interrupt," Fenton commented quietly. "But I happened to see you four come up here, and I thought I should hear what Thomas had to say. Thomas, did you know Mr. Claremont too?"

Thomas looked confused. "Mr. Claremont? I don’t know any Mr. Claremont, sir."

"He was just going to tell us what he knew, Dad…let’s give him a chance." Joe suggested. He stacked pillows against the headboard of Vanessa’s bed, and leaned into them, cuddling close to Vanessa as he did so. "Go ahead, Thomas."

"Well…" Streeter began, hesitantly. "I know who was behind the poisonings – the food poisonings, that is." He looked around at his listeners, making sure they understood. "You see, Evan…his fiancée killed herself just a month ago. You see, she worked at the Grand Tahoe Resort as a cocktail waitress, you know…and one night, Mr. Jacobs accused her of being short on her count – and it wasn’t the first time! And then…then he hit on her – made a pass at her, I mean, not hit her…." he clarified. "When she refused him, he fired her, right then and there. And he told her that if she ever told anyone, even one single person, that he’d tell the police that she’d been stealing from the guests, and have her arrested." He paused, as both Megan and Vanessa made shocked, sympathetic noises.

"The police never believe us, you know," he continued, "when an employer reports something like that. It happened to one of Emily’s friends a year or so ago, so she knew it could happen, very easily." He swallowed hard. "Emily was upset – more upset than anyone knew. We didn’t know why she did it – at least, I didn’t. She killed herself that night. She left a note that said she just didn’t want to go on living anymore; that some things were scarier than living – and she swallowed a whole bottle of pain pills. Evan found her the next morning – he’d worked a double shift that night…he was trying to save up, to buy her a really nice engagement ring. They both worked so hard…"

Streeter’s voice broke on the last words, and he stopped speaking, trying to collect himself. He was shaking from the effort.

Fenton stared at him in dumbfounded shock. Oh no….

Joe looked at him, seeing that something had definitely gotten to his father, but not sure what it was.

Finally Thomas continued. "Evan told me she’d called him, and told him she had been fired...but he said they’d been interrupted, and she didn’t finish the call. When he got home, he… found her. He didn’t know why she would have killed herself over losing a job, but he needed someone to blame, and he chose Mr. Jacobs….And I think that’s why he started doing what he did – you know, messing up the food and stuff, so that guests got sick. He didn’t mean to really hurt anybody – not the guests, I mean – but he was trying to ruin Mr. Jacobs’ business. He probably had some of his friends help him – Evan had lots of friends…." The boy gulped again.

Fenton was looking rather ill at this point. "Thomas—" he rasped. "What did you find out this morning, that made you realize why it was that Emily killed herself?"

"Well, I heard a couple of the waitresses from the Grand Tahoe talking." Streeter replied. "The employee grapevine, you know…" He grinned sardonically. "One of the dealers who was bringing his money belt to the office, heard Mr. Jacobs proposition Emily. I don’t think Mr. Jacobs ever realized people could hear what went on in his office – but the door wasn’t completely shut, I guess…and people were coming and going….A waitress overheard him tell Emily that if she told anyone about him hitting on her, he’d have her arrested—"

"Why didn’t someone say something before?" Fenton demanded.

"No one put things together until after Evan was murdered," the boy admitted. "After all, three different people heard three different things. But there’s more, Mr. Hardy – they said another dealer heard Mr. Jacobs tell Emily that day, before she left, that if she told Evan anything about what had happened, that he’d have Evan killed. And," Thomas said softly, "even if she didn’t tell him, I think that’s what Mr. Jacobs did anyway…I think he killed Evan!"