§ § § -- September 15, 1996

Someone knocked on the door and both Roarke and Leslie looked up. "Come in," Roarke called out, and the door opened and Michiko came in, along with her stepdaughter, Adriana, now fifteen. "Good afternoon, Your Highnesses!"

"Hello, Mr. Roarke, Miss Leslie," Adriana said a little shyly.

Michiko grinned. "Hi, Mr. Roarke, Leslie…you two look busy."

"Just paperwork," Leslie said, turning from the computer where she had been responding to business e-mail. "What's up?"

"Are you free this evening for the last Foster Sisters concert at the amusement park?" Michiko asked. "Errico decided to take Paolono and Marcolo on a fishing excursion, and of course, Adriana had no interest in that. I thought she and I could attend the concert, and if you two would like a break from routine, you could come as well."

"They really are great, Father," Leslie said. "We all enjoyed last evening's first show."

"It appears our guests have received quite a few ringing endorsements this weekend," Roarke observed with a grin. "As a matter of fact, I myself have heard them only on tape, so it would be a treat to hear them sing live. Very well, Leslie and I will accompany you to the park. Perhaps by now they have decided on a recording company."

Michiko's eyebrows popped up. "Recording company? Are there scouts out there who are interested in them? I wouldn't be surprised. They impressed me very much."

"It's their fantasy," Leslie said. "I've been given to understand that all the amusement-park concerts have been sold out—they could probably have performed two more shows. It might be a good excuse to see them backstage before they go on, and find out how the fantasy's been progressing."

"A good idea, Leslie," Roarke said. "What time does the show begin?"

"It starts at five," Michiko said. "If you need to, there's plenty of time to wrap up the most important things here before you come out—it's not even four yet."

"Very well," Roarke agreed. "Thank you for the invitation, Michiko, and we will see you back here at four-thirty, if that's all right with you."

"It would be perfect," Adriana interjected and looked up at Michiko. "That means you and I would have time to get pedicures, Madi, and spend some time away from the boys."

Michiko laughed. "All right, you talked me into it. See you at four-thirty." She and Adriana departed, and Leslie giggled, turning back to the computer.

"It'll be interesting to see what happens in that fantasy," she observed offhandedly, deleting a few messages and opening another. "The only possible problem I can think of them having is deciding what record company to sign a contract with."

"Oh, there's more to this fantasy than meets the eye, my child," Roarke said in that mysterious voice he sometimes employed when he knew more than anyone else about a particular fantasy, even the fantasizer. She looked curiously at him, then shrugged when he said nothing and returned to the e-mails. She had earlier checked her own account and replied to a message from Christian, who had dispatched a very long e-mail expressing his great joy and relief over her willingness to really talk to him at last. Leslie didn't expect a reply from him for some time yet, since it was the dead of night on Lilla Jordsö at the moment.

"How is Christian?" Roarke asked suddenly.

"I wish you'd stop reading my mind," Leslie complained teasingly, but he just grinned at her. Grinning back, she relented. "He's doing fine, I think. At least, he seemed pretty happy that I'm saying more than just 'hi, I'm fine, thanks for writing'."

"I should think so," Roarke agreed. "Do you think your wait for him will be more bearable, since you two are now in full communication?"

Leslie shrugged, a small gray cloud forming over her head for a moment. "Well, I don't know. I'd like to think so. It'll keep us from becoming total strangers to each other while we're still apart, but at the same time, it always kicks up a yearning in me." She looked at Roarke wistfully. "It's really the strangest thing, Father. I never had this kind of longing for any other man—not even Teppo."

"You were never really separated from Teppo until he died," Roarke said, "and there was no reason for you to miss him."

"No," Leslie said slowly, "but…before the wedding, I didn't have this—this need for Teppo when he and I weren't together, you know what I mean? I think my love for Christian is different from my love for Teppo in a lot of ways."

"Because, of course, Teppo and Christian are two different men," Roarke said. "Love is rarely, if ever, the same twice, sweetheart, and even love between the same two people will change over time. Did you feel precisely the same way about Teppo on your fifth wedding anniversary as you did the day you were married to him?"

She thought about it, frowning in contemplation. "No, I didn't, come to think of it," she mused after some time. "I felt comfortable around him, and I did still love him very much…but it wasn't the same sort of heady excitement I had when we got married." Leslie focused on him with surprise in her eyes. "You know, I never really thought about it. I wonder if it means anything?"

"Only time will answer that question," Roarke said, smiling. "Well, suppose we finish what's left here, and then we can check on Mr. Charlimansky's fantasy quickly before we get ready to attend the concert."

They met Michiko and Adriana in front of the main house at four-thirty as arranged, and Roarke drove them to the amusement park, located nearly all the way across the island in view of the South Pacific and a grassy clearing atop an outcrop, where at one time a hot-air balloon had dropped off children looking to have fantasies granted. There was a little less than ten minutes remaining before showtime when they arrived, so that their wait was reduced to a bare few minutes by the time they found a place to sit and watch.

"Your own amusement park," Adriana said in awe, gazing around her at the assorted rides that were visible from their seats. "What a wonderful thing! I've been asking Papi and Grendé-Papi about having one at home." She employed the Arcolosian terms for her father and grandfather. "Do you know there isn't one on all of Arcolos?"

"Really!" said Roarke. Leslie and Michiko grinned at the young princess.

"You sound scandalized," Leslie teased her.

"Well, it is a scandal!" Adriana insisted. "I asked Papi how in the world we could expect the children of our tourists to have any fun on a trip to Arcolos without at least one amusement park somewhere. But I think Papi just thinks it's funny."

"He and Grendé-Papi have a lot of things on their minds, honey," Michiko said. "When some of the other problems have been solved, you might bring it up again. I promise we'll bring you and your brothers here before we go back home."

At this point there was a fanfare and the chatting audience quieted, turning expectantly towards the stage. After a moment or two the curtains parted to reveal the Foster Sisters, who wasted no time in launching into their first song. All five were strong of voice, full of energy and clearly having a wonderful time; their cheer was infectious and soon the audience was clapping along to the faster songs. Shara and Daphne even danced their way through a couple of tunes, inspiring quite a few folks in the front rows to get up and follow suit. It was a fast-paced show filled with fun, and everyone was enjoying themselves to the hilt; Michiko, Adriana and Leslie were clapping, singing occasionally with cover songs they knew, and even Roarke tapped his foot to the livelier songs.

In the middle of the seventh song, Shara Foster's voice disappeared from the lineup, creating an audible hole in the lush harmony, and she dropped her microphone before tumbling in a lax heap to the floor. Brooke Foster shrieked; the singing halted abruptly and the entire audience gasped, most rising all at one time. Roarke, Leslie, Michiko and Adriana were among them. "Madi, what happened?" Adriana cried.

"I don't know!" Michiko exclaimed. "Leslie?"

"Father…" Leslie began, but he had already started for the stage. She tossed a quick smile of reassurance at Michiko and Adriana and hurried after him, hard on his heels. By now Brooke, Cyndy, Joy and Daphne were in a panic; just as Roarke and Leslie gained the stage, the curtains rushed closed and the two hosts ducked hastily out of the way so that they were behind the curtain with the singers.

Roarke knelt beside the unconscious Shara and felt for a pulse as the young woman's terrified bandmates gathered around; he looked up and said, "She needs an ambulance immediately. She has a pulse, but it's weak and thready."

The pavilion manager had come out in time to hear this. "I'll take care of it, Mr. Roarke," he said and fled backstage.

"What happened?" Roarke asked.

"No clue," Cyndy said helplessly. "I gotta tell you, though, Mr. Roarke, Shara's been really weird all day. She looked a little run-down after our last show, but she seemed okay. Then she came out and ate a huge lunch—more food than we've seen her eat at one sitting in at least a year. She usually has a slice of toast for breakfast and otherwise lives on all kinds of different salads, and that's it. But today she had some of everything there was to offer and even went back for seconds."

"Then she came out for this show and she was so hyper, she couldn't stand still," put in Brooke. "I mean, literally—she was rocking from one foot to the other, bouncing up and down on her toes, all but running in place. She seemed to have energy to burn. Now, all of a sudden, she goes and faints on us. Do you think it's anorexia?"

"What if she turns into another Karen Carpenter?" Daphne gasped.

Roarke frowned. "I don't believe that's her problem," he said, "but we won't know until the hospital staff has had a chance to examine and evaluate her."

A few minutes later, park paramedics barreled onstage with a stretcher and other equipment, and they busied themselves getting Shara ready for the trip to the hospital and recording her vital signs and condition. Within five minutes they were on their way, and Roarke offered the others a ride back.

Joy scowled. "I think there's more to this than just a dead faint," she said. "I'll stay here, Mr. Roarke, and go through her stuff to see if we can find something." She looked at Leslie. "Will you help me?"

"All right," Leslie agreed. "I'll bring her back in one of the jeeps from the park, Father, along with Michiko and Adriana."

"Good," Roarke agreed. "If you find anything, bring it with you." He made his way out with Brooke, Cyndy and Daphne. Joy led the way backstage and flung open the door to Shara's dressing room, then winced at the mess within. "Oh geez…"

Leslie peered past her. "I see what you mean. We'll be lucky to find anything."

"I know." Joy sighed heavily. "But we have to try. Shara totes an ancient yellow nylon duffel bag with her to every show. You look for that, and I'll check the pockets in her clothes here."

The two women began their search, but after ten minutes Joy had turned out every pocket in every article of clothing on the floor to no avail, and Leslie had unearthed the duffel only to find it empty. "Damn," Joy murmured, sounding on the verge of tears. "I really thought we'd find the answer to this mystery in here."

Leslie turned the bag over and over in her hands, then frowned in surprise when she saw a tiny zippered pocket at one end of the interior. "What's this?" she mumbled to herself and unzipped it, poking around within and coming up with a syringe. She blinked, felt her heart sink, and swallowed hard for composure before turning to Joy. "I have bad news." At Joy's questioning look, she held up the syringe.

Joy's face paled. "Oh my God," she breathed.

Leslie nodded in silent sympathy, studying the syringe. There were only a few drops of water clinging to the inside of the barrel, as if someone had taken care to wash it out before hiding it in the duffel. "It doesn't look as if we can find out what Shara took, but this is the only clue we have." She focused on Joy and dropped the duffel into the chair. "I came here with a friend of mine and her stepdaughter. Let me get them, and then we'll head for the hospital so they can try to determine what might have been in this thing."