Vanessa peered closely at her friend. "You’re all fixed!" she exulted, and hugged Megan, careful not to squeeze too hard. "Megan, it looks wonderful! You’d never know anything happened to your tooth!"

"Not only that," Megan said, "Dr. Albritton gave me some topical stuff to put on the cuts. It’s marvelous; it takes almost all the pain away immediately!" She sighed. "I feel so much better – but I’ll admit, I’m tired and achy again. Now I sure sympathize with Frank and his whiplash last spring."

"You sympathized with him then, too," Vanessa reminded her. "Only now you know why he was so cranky all the time! Come on, I’ll take you home, so you can rest," Vanessa urged her towards the door.

When they arrived back at Megan’s home, the girls were astounded to see that something closely resembling a flower garden had taken possession of the front porch. There were two baskets of mixed flowers, a little glass vase of blue asters, and a plastic-shrouded spray of red roses and ferns.

"Oh, for heaven’s sake!" Megan stared at the display. "What in the world…where did all this come from?"

Vanessa was examining the cards. "This one’s from Joe," she announced, indicating one of the baskets. "That louse, he doesn’t send me flowers! – This little one – my goodness, it’s from Con Riley! How did he know? Oh wait, Joe talked to him last night. The roses…"

"Are from Frank," Megan smiled, looking at the card, then gathered the flowers into her arms and carefully inhaled their sweetness. "Although, if these make me sneeze, I’m not going to appreciate them nearly so much. I don’t think my nose could take sneezing, right now! And Joe would send you flowers if you were in a car wreck, Van; you know he would!"

Vanessa laughed. "I don’t think I want to try it just to find out. Take your roses inside and put them in water," she advised, picking up a basket. "I’ll bring the others. This other basket is from…oh my," she sounded a little awed. "I think this is your mom’s boss, isn’t it? There’s a title – Human Resources Director, Bayport Electric."

Megan checked the card. "Yes!" she marveled. "How amazing! Mom must have mentioned it, at the conference! Mr. Reznicek’s nice, but I certainly never expected something like this!"

Once the flowers were arranged to her satisfaction, Megan took another prescription pain pill, and went to her bedroom to lie down again, for the tension in her neck was giving her a severe headache. She assured Vanessa that she would be fine alone, if the other girl wished to go on home, but Vanessa refused. "Maybe later," she said, "but not just yet. Especially if you just took one of those Happy Pills!"

While she waited for the pain reliever to kick in, Megan called Frank to thank him – and Joe – for the flowers, which she had set atop her bureau.

"They’re absolutely beautiful, Frank! Thank you so much." She stretched herself on her bed and gratefully let her head sink into the pillows. She took one more look at the roses, then closed her eyes. "And tell Joe thanks for me, will you?"

"He says you’re welcome," Frank relayed the reply. "When can I come over and visit, Baby? I don’t mind spending time in a dark bedroom with you again, if that’s the way you want it," he murmured suggestively.

"Later…" she replied, not really listening. "I’m falling asleep again. I’m sorry…." She forced her eyes open, and tried to brighten her voice. "My front tooth is all fixed!" she reported. Then she sighed. "But I’m afraid Joe’s going to have a new nickname for me by tomorrow – Raccoon Face! Two black eyes. Ugh!"

"If he calls you Raccoon Face, I’ll give him a black eye!" Frank threatened. "Baby, do you mean it; can I come over and see you after a while? Please?"

"Maybe." She stifled a yawn. "I’ve got to hang up now, Frank…Can’t talk any more…call me later."

Left with a dead receiver in his hand, Frank muttered an epithet and hung up.

"Hey, bro," Joe tapped him on the shoulder. "What say we kick around the subject of the fires on the college campus? We haven’t had time to talk about it much, since Megan’s accident."

Frank turned and surveyed Joe thoughtfully. "Okay," he said at last. "Sounds good." He led the way to the family room, and sat down. "What have we got?"

Joe, who had spent the morning loading cargo at Wayne’s World, and then had let himself be shanghaied off to a florist shop by the anxious Frank when he arrived home, sprawled out on the sofa. "So far, two buildings set on fire in the past five days. First, the Administration Building, second, the stadium and the new athletic center!" As he mentioned the last item, Joe’s face took on an extremely woebegone cast. "The athletic center!" he repeated in a despairing tone.

"According to the paper, the investigators are pretty sure the second fire, at least, was arson," Frank added. "Hang on a minute." He went to the kitchen, momentarily rummaged in a drawer, and returned with a pen and some index cards, on which he began jotting notes as Joe talked. "I wonder if we could get any more information if we talked to Dani," he commented.

"You’d thought of that before," Joe nodded. "But you didn’t follow up on it."

"I’d meant to call her before now, but then Megan got hurt….Well, I’ll call her in a little bit," Frank said, and returned to his note-taking. "First, let’s think about a few things. For instance, what did the Administration Building and the stadium have in common?"

"Well, that’s pretty obvious!" Joe snorted. "They’re both on campus!"

Frank fixed him with his most piercing stare. "No duh, Sherlock!" He tapped impatiently on the table with his pen. "Maybe there’s something more to it – use your imagination, please."

Joe returned glare for glare. "If there’s another connection, I can’t see it. The Administration Building was just that – administration. Offices, money, grades, records, clerks…boring stuff. The stadium, on the other hand, was solely sports. Athletics. Athletics are a big money-maker for schools—"

"Not community colleges!" Frank interposed, but Joe plowed ahead with his comments.

"—advertising, athletic fees, costs of tickets for sporting events…now that I think about it, athletics probably pays for itself!"

"No!" Frank shook his head in vehement disagreement. "That’s not usually true, and especially for a place like BCC, which doesn’t have outstanding sports teams. You said yourself that the football team sucked."

Joe cast him a doleful glance, conceding the truth of that last comment.

"Think about it," Frank pursued his thought, "athletic scholarships – if Bayport Community even has any such—"

"They have a few. Nothing big."

"—equipment, travel, salaries for coaches and trainers – all that is expensive." Frank continued. "I doubt that the athletic program even breaks even, but schools keep sports teams for exposure and visibility. To attract students!"

"True," Joe admitted. "I might not have chosen to go to BCC if they didn’t have the sports, even if it is close to home."

"There you go, then." Frank said triumphantly. He frowned down at his index card. "That didn’t help any," he conceded, with a wry chuckle. "The buildings weren’t the same age – the Admin building was old, and the athletic center was almost new. One had students in it all the time, the other doesn’t. Nothing matches, except that they’re both BCC buildings!"

He set down the pen and reached for the phone with his good arm, as Joe shrugged and let the conversation drop. After looking up the phone number, Frank momentarily transferred the receiver to his left hand, holding it awkwardly while he dialed with his good hand, then switched the receiver over, holding it against his right ear. After a few rings…

"Bayport Fire Station 4, Rodriguez," came a brisk male voice.

"Could I speak to Dani Tanner, please?" Frank requested.

"Frank Hardy."

"Hold on…" The clunk of a receiver being set down came through clearly.

Frank waited patiently, listening to background noises and idly watching Joe, who had rolled off the couch and was doing pushups on the family room floor while he waited for Frank to finish his call.

"Hey, Frankenstein!" A warm female voice floated through the receiver to reach Frank’s ears.

"Dani!" Frank broke into a grin at her use of the nickname she’d coined for him during the CPR refresher course – one which sounded odd to everyone, but which she insisted was really a compliment: a combination of ‘Frank’ and ‘Einstein.’ "How’s the most gorgeous firefighter in the state of New York?"

"Flattery gets you nowhere," she drawled. "So you can stop buttering me up. Why are you calling me? As if I didn’t know…."

"Smart as well as beautiful," Frank said sweetly, disregarding the eloquent gagging noises Joe was making from the floor. "What can you tell me about the fires at the Bayport Community College, Dani?"

"Who says I can tell you anything? And besides, what business is it of yours?" she asked warily. "Has Hardy Investigations been called in?"

"No," Frank conceded, "but Joe and I are students there, so we’re indirectly involved. Come on, Dani, if you know anything, spill!"

"Well, okay….You’ve probably heard the news reports," she said, lowering her voice. "The second fire – the stadium and sports complex – was labeled arson right away. What hasn’t come out yet is that the first one also was set."

Frank caught his breath, grimly pleased that the two incidents were, indeed, connected. Joe stopped doing pushups and sat up, his attentive blue gaze fastened on his brother.

"Any suspects?"

"No that I know of. A college campus is a really hard place to spot an arsonist; there are people coming and going all over the place at all times of the day and night. And there are multitudes of targets! What’s more," Dani continued, "there’s something that won’t come out in the papers, Frank: these fires were chemical in nature – they burned at unbelievably high temperatures. It takes something special to make rock and brick walls burn like the Administration building did."

"What sort of thing?" Frank demanded.

"Can’t say yet. I have my guesses, but I can’t confirm anything," Dani told him regretfully.

"Could you let us know if you do find out for sure?"

"I could. I can…I will. I shouldn’t, but I will," Dani said quietly. "I’ve got to go now – you be careful out there, Frankenstein!"

"You too, Dani." Frank replaced the receiver and turned to Joe. "Arson – chemically aided arson." He sat back on the couch, his brow furrowed in a dark frown.

Joe scowled too. "What are you thinking?" he asked after a few moments, when Frank didn’t speak.