"It’s Sam," he announced, wondering why his assistant, Sam Radley, was calling. They had spoken only three hours earlier. Sam had called Fenton from the airport while waiting to board a flight back to Bayport and brought him up to speed on the case he had just wrapped up.

"Hello, Sam," Fenton answered keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the other diners.

He noticed Laura, Callie and Vanessa watching him as they listened to his half of the conversation.

"Yes, everything’s fine," Fenton said frowning. His eyes suddenly grew wide at whatever Sam had revealed.

"What?!" he whispered harshly, breaking off eye contact with the three women who were now staring at him intently. "When?!" He listened, unable to hide his displeasure at Sam’s reply.

"Damn," he muttered, reaching for his wallet. "Yes, don’t worry, I will. Thanks. Bye."

"What is it?" Laura demanded the second her husband stopped speaking.

"Where’s our waiter?" Fenton looked around in an attempt to avoid answering.

"What did Sam say?" Laura said more forcefully, drawing a few stares.

"Upstairs," Fenton replied, as he shook his head no. He signaled their waiter to the table and handed him a credit card.

"Now," Laura insisted, her eyes as hard as her voice.

Fenton sighed recognizing the tone. He had wanted to wait until they were upstairs to share Sam’s news, not wanting to upset them if it was unnecessary, but his wife had other ideas.

"Sam’s been out of town all week wrapping up a case," he began, looking at the three pair of eyes that were bearing down on him. "He drove by the office tonight on his way home from the airport to check the mail and pick up the messages," Fenton stopped momentarily to sign the receipt the waiter had brought back. Without even realizing it, he took his wife’s hand and held it securely before he continued, the gesture increasing the apprehension that now surrounded the table.

"Craig Rashman escaped from prison."

Vanessa and Callie both visibly flinched. Never taking her eyes off her husband, Laura reached out for Vanessa who was seated next to her and took the younger girl’s hand in hers.

"When?" she asked.

"Four days ago. Prison officials sent a letter to the office, but since we’ve been here and Sam’s been out of town…" He stopped, and shook his head in frustration. Fenton suddenly pushed his chair back, standing abruptly. "They know he’s heading west. I want to get upstairs and check on the boys." He motioned towards the exit.

As he followed his wife, Callie and Vanessa through the maze of tables, Fenton reminded himself why he had chosen the penthouse suite in this particular hotel, hoping it would calm his suddenly frayed nerves. He had told his family it was for the privacy and serenity the elegant accommodations offered, which was partially true.

However, the biggest reason he’d decided to stay here was the unprecedented degree of security the suite offered. With only his family and a very few hand-picked and well-screened hotel employees having access to that floor, he was comfortable that they were as well protected as they could possibly be. It was almost impossible for any unauthorized person to gain access to their floor. Unfortunately, right now the only word Fenton could focus on was "almost".

Finally leaving the restaurant, the group quickly made their way across the lobby, passing the main elevators. Hurrying to the alcove containing the penthouse suite elevator, Fenton slid his card into the opening, recalling the elevator to the lobby. As they waited impatiently, Vanessa glanced around the lobby nervously and caught sight of something that sent a chill through her.

"Mr. Hardy?" she said, the slightest tremor in her voice.

The others turned to look at her as Vanessa pointed to what had caught her eye. Looking in the direction she indicated, a sense of dread encompassed them all.

Pierre Tableau was hurrying towards them accompanied by two hotel security guards and two police officers, all of them looking tense and edgy. Just as they arrived, the elevator doors opened and Vanessa rushed on ahead of the others. Something had happened in the penthouse, that much was clear. Prior experience told Vanessa she would be asked to wait in the lobby until things had been "checked out" and the penthouse was deemed "safe". This time she had no intention of complying, determined to get to Joe as soon as possible.

Following her lead, Callie hurried into the elevator and the two girls instinctively reached for one another, their hands loosely clasped together in a silent gesture of support. By now Frank had to be in the penthouse with Joe, meaning he too was facing whatever unknown danger Joe might have stumbled into.

Laura quickly joined the girls, standing in front of them protectively. Callie smiled inwardly as she saw Laura give Fenton and the others a look that left no doubt she and the girls would be accompanying them to the penthouse. The remainder of the group squeezed on and the elevator began its ascent. Shifting so he could face Fenton, Pierre Tableau explained their sudden and unexpected presence.

"We received a report that indicates someone may have fallen over the railing of one of the penthouse balconies. Three people said there appeared to be a person hanging on to the edge of the balcony. One of them also reported seeing what looked like two people engaged in a fight on the balcony."

Vanessa squeezed her eyes shut and squeezed Callie’s hand tightly. Pressed so close together in the small elevator, she could feel Callie shaking at the news. Startled by a sudden beep, Vanessa opened her eyes and saw Tableau raising a cell phone to his ear.

"Yes?" He said tensely.

All eyes were on him as the elevator continued to glide upwards. Vast years of experience and training suddenly failed the hotel manager as everyone saw his face pale considerably.

"Can you identify him?" he asked in a slightly strangled voice. "All right. Send them up as soon as they arrive."