§ § § -- April 26, 1992

Breakfast at the main house was a hurried affair that morning, for there was quite a bit for Roarke and Leslie to accomplish that day. "I can't believe these people are coming on such short notice," Leslie said as she and Roarke walked briskly back into the study. "When exactly did they call?"

"Last evening," Roarke told her. "It can't be helped, I'm afraid. But they wish to buy the Lightwood-Wynton mansion and take immediate possession, so the only thing we can do is mobilize all the staff we have who aren't already occupied and have them ready the house for its prospective new owners. Get Kalani and Akiko from the kitchen and have them help you make the calls, and tell Mariki it's on my authority when she protests."

Leslie grinned. "You know Mariki too well, Father," she said. "The mansion has a staff of its own on call, doesn't it? I should get hold of them too, so they can help."

"Yes," said Roarke, pulling open a desk drawer and reaching inside. "I believe I have a list of—" He cut himself off abruptly and froze where he stood for a moment, then frowned in sheer perplexity and slowly withdrew a white envelope from the back of the drawer.

"What's that?" Leslie asked, coming over to get a better look at it.

Roarke turned the sealed envelope over in his hands, examining it. Its contents bulged within it; there was nothing written on the outside. Only a rubber band seemed to be holding it together; and when Roarke removed it, the envelope burst open, scattering loose United States bills all over the desktop.

"Sweet paradise!" Leslie blurted, dumbfounded.

Roarke stared at the money in amazement. "What on earth…?"

At that point there was a knock on the door, and Leslie gave a start before hurrying up to answer it. She was greeted by a frantic Fernando Ordoñez and Tabitha Zuma, who all but mowed her down elbowing their way inside. "I'm sorry, Leslie," Tabitha exclaimed, "but this is urgent!"

"Madre Maria!" Fernando exclaimed, seeing the money scattered across the desk. "I never thought you'd find it, señor Roarke! I simply thought it was the safest hiding place there could be for it!"

Tabitha gaped in her turn at the loose money, and Leslie edged around her while Roarke focused on Fernando. "Is this money yours, señor Ordoñez?"

"Si, señor…and rightfully so," Fernando said earnestly. "I didn't want to mix up anyone else in this ridiculous mess, but Tabbie talked me into coming to you, and that's why we're here. Of course, since you already found the money, I suppose I have no choice now but to explain everything."

"Indeed," Roarke agreed ironically. "Obviously there is quite a story behind this little gold mine. Señor Ordoñez, Miss Zuma, I suggest you both sit down and explain it."

"It's really my story to tell, señor Roarke," Fernando said hurriedly. "Tabbie learned about it herself only last night when I told her." Without further ado he poured out the whole tale to Roarke, who slowly settled into his chair and listened carefully. Leslie, too, took her usual seat and absorbed Fernando's story.

Roarke regarded the money, then Fernando. "Do you realize just how much danger you are in, señor Ordoñez?" he asked. "And frankly, it was extremely foolhardy of you to take it upon yourself to recover your father's stolen money. It amazes me that you are sitting alive before me now."

"Well, I thought it necessary," Fernando said stubbornly. "Besides, señor, it's done now, and nothing can change it. But Howell and his men are here on the island, and I know they're looking for me and that money."

"Yes, I know that," Roarke said, making Fernando and Tabitha look at each other in wonder. Leslie smiled knowingly. "In fact, just yesterday I received a copy of a Wanted poster which Leslie took to the police station for me. I expect they should be apprehended before much longer."

"I doubt that," said someone else, and everyone turned to stare at the open French shutters, wherein stood Calvin Howell, Larry and Cap, all with guns drawn and trained on the quartet in the study. "So there it is. Pretty clever of you, Ordoñez, to hide it here in the main house like that. Gotta hand it to you." Howell grinned. "But maybe you're not all that smart, since you led us right here to it. All we hadda do was wait for you to turn up and just follow you. Nobody touch that money. Cap, get in there and gather it up, and bring it here."

But Cap had seen the shuttered expression on Roarke and how icy black his eyes had become, and quailed. "Sorry, chief, but you're gonna have to count me outta this."

"Me too," said Larry quickly, no less observant.

Howell rolled his eyes. "You two yellow-livered chicken-hearted babies, I'll never understand what the hell is wrong with you." He eyed Roarke speculatively and apparently decided to take his chances. "The cash, Roarke, now."

"I don't think you want to tangle with my father," Leslie said softly, but her voice carried clearly to Howell. "Just a friendly warning."

"Young lady, if you don't want a new hole in your face, you better close your trap," Howell told her. "This is my last order. The money."

"I think not," Roarke said in a quiet, deadly tone.

"Chief," Larry broke in urgently, "whaddaya doin'? You were the one who mentioned Roarke and his powers last night in Ordoñez's hotel room!"

"Shaddup, you imbecile," barked Howell. "We've all got guns. Even Roarke can't stop a bullet. He may have powers, but he's not immortal."

"Perhaps not," Roarke agreed, almost pleasantly, "but I'm afraid you underestimate me." He narrowed his eyes at Howell's gun; the safety disengaged itself, and Howell's entire hand began to rotate uncontrollably so that in seconds, he was pointing his own gun at himself. Howell's eyes bulged with disbelief and horror. Cap and Larry, their own eyes popping, made a very visible show of tossing their guns onto the floor in the study, where they skidded a few feet and came to a stop just shy of Fernando's chair. Both raised their hands in tacit surrender; Leslie reached for the phone and called the police.

Roarke stood quietly, clearly concentrating carefully, but he was relaxed. "Señor Ordoñez, I assume you will be able to identify all three of these men?"

"Absolutely, señor Roarke," Fernando said.

"I can identify the one on the left," Tabitha added. "He came to my bungalow last evening asking if I had seen Fernando, and I told him to get lost before I called the police."

Leslie had just hung up the phone. "Wow!" she exclaimed, impressed. "Good for you, Tabitha!" Tabitha grinned sheepishly.

Roarke smiled faintly, without ever taking his eyes off the gun and the hand that held it. "Then I believe we need only wait for the authorities."

Twenty minutes later, the police had been there and gone, taking their three suspects with them; Fernando and Tabitha had given statements and all the guns had been collected. Now the money that had lain scattered on the desk was safely back in the possession of its rightful owner, and Tabitha peered curiously at Fernando.

"Just how long were those men in their so-called business?" she asked.

"I don't really know," Fernando admitted. "All I'm sure of is that Calvin Howell and Papa had known each other since junior high school. I didn't know the other two."

"Small-time crooks," Roarke said. "Larry Parker and Donald 'Cap' Capelli—the latter of whom, by the way, is to be deported back to his native New Zealand—joined Calvin Howell's organization several years ago when he decided to become a, uh, part-time loan shark…for lack of a better description. Since Howell is solely to blame for the murder of your father, señor Ordoñez, he will undoubtedly receive a life sentence without parole, especially with your testimony as a witness."

"He deserves it," Fernando said and fell back in his chair with a deep sigh. "I can hardly believe it's over. It feels as if I've been trying to stay a step ahead of those lowlifes for years, instead of months. And if it hadn't been for Tabitha's request for you to find me, I might still be trying to outrun them." He smiled at Tabitha, who blushed deeply but smiled back, her eyes shining.

"So what sort of plans do you have?" Leslie asked curiously. "I think Tabitha said that you're in your last year of medical school, Mr. Ordoñez."

"Call me Fernando," he said, smiling at her. "You're a friend of Tabbie's, so that makes you a friend of mine too. Well, I don't really know just yet. Of course, I need to return to California in order to graduate the end of next month…but after that, I can't really say."

Tabitha sat up in her chair and looked hesitantly at Roarke. "Mr. Roarke…Dr. Wayne has been talking about retiring for some time now. I realize Fernando may not be able to open his own practice for some time yet, but perhaps when he's ready, he could take over Dr. Wayne's practice." She stopped herself and shot Fernando a hope-filled glance. "That is, if you think you might like to, 'Nando."

"Only if you're willing to stay on as my secretary, mi amiga," Fernando said, smiling at her. "You know, it's a perfect opportunity. I had decided it might be best to aim for becoming a general practitioner, because you just never know what is needed. That'll take time, Tabbie—I have to get through my internship and residency, and that's at least another three years before I can take over for Dr. Wayne."

"It doesn't matter," she said and grinned at him. "This time we'll have each other's addresses." Everyone laughed, and she turned to Roarke and Leslie with her eyes sparkling in joy. "The way this turned out, I can't believe I didn't do it years ago."

"So you are satisfied with the outcome of your fantasy?" Roarke prompted, dark eyes alight and a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Tabitha and Fernando beamed at each other; and Leslie, her own eyes twinkling with merriment, sighed with sham impatience. "I think the answer to that, Father, is something like…well, duh!"