§ § § -- July 20, 1982

But if Leslie thought that was the end of her trouble with Simon, she was badly mistaken. Simon seemed quite subdued for the rest of Monday, but on Tuesday he was back to his demanding self. He insisted that Leslie make arrangements to have the amusement park closed to visitors so that he could have it entirely to himself for a day. She tried every argument she could think of to dissuade him, including the fact that it would take time to set up and execute, and also that was likely to have to pay handsomely for the privilege. But nothing would sway him from the idea, and she finally decided the only thing she could do was call her guardian and present the problem to him.

So with Simon standing by, watching with his arms folded over his chest and an expectant smirk on his face, she dialed the main house and waited for Roarke to pick up, her eyes trained wearily on the ceiling. "Yes," she finally heard the warm, familiar voice.

"Hi, Mr. Roarke, it's me," Leslie said.

"Good afternoon, Leslie," Roarke replied. "How are things going with your charge?"

"About the way I expected they would," she told him darkly and sighed. "I have a nice little problem for you. Simon wants me to have the amusement park closed to the public so that he can enjoy it all by himself, at his own leisure, for a full day. I tried to tell him it's not possible, in every way I could think of, but he won't listen. He's standing right here waiting for me to tell him we're doing it, and I think he fully expects that we will."

For a long moment Roarke was silent on the other end, and she waited, suddenly wondering uneasily if he was actually going to tell her to go ahead and do it. Then she heard a sigh from him. "I begin to see the extent of the problems his mother has had with him," he remarked. "What happened after you went to the stables on Saturday?"

Leslie told him about their horseback ride and the whirlwind way Simon had insisted on seeing every attraction the island had to offer before the weekend was out. She glared at Simon throughout most of this, watching him tapping his foot with impatience or rolling his eyes, and finally concluded, "I don't know how else to keep him from complaining."

"You say he wanted to go to the casino?" Roarke asked incredulously. At Leslie's affirmative reply, he sighed again. "All right, Leslie, put Simon on the line, and I will try to explain to him. I'll also gently suggest he rent a boat for at least the day, to keep him from bothering you to do something perhaps even more outrageous."

"Okay," she said and held out the receiver to Simon. "You won't listen to me, so maybe you'll get the picture if Mr. Roarke explains things to you."

"Right," Simon said with a smirk and took the receiver from her. She shook her head and turned away, wishing she had asked Roarke if she could come home while Simon was out on the boat. Maybe he'd talk the arrogant snob into an overnight rental…

The conversation grew rather protracted and Simon more petulant as it dragged out; but at last Roarke apparently convinced him that closing down the amusement park solely for Simon was impractical at best. He did seem amenable to the idea of the boat rental, however, and to Leslie's complete surprise asked about overnight excursions to uninhabited islands. That kept him on the line for another ten minutes, and when he finally relinquished the phone back to Leslie, he actually walked off whistling.

"Wow, Mr. Roarke, you're a miracle worker," she commented, astounded.

Roarke chuckled a bit wearily. "I understand your reluctance to remain with him," he admitted. "I'm surprised he hasn't given you more trouble than that."

"Oh, well…" Leslie cleared her throat; there was no way on earth she was going to tell Roarke about hers and Myeko's mad dash through time in pursuit of Simon. "Since Simon seems to have plans to take an extended boat tour, could I come home for tonight?"

"Very well," Roarke agreed. "I'll need your assistance with some catch-up work at any rate. Julie has announced that the upcoming weekend will be her last in my employ, as she finally has the capital and the supplies to open her bed-and-breakfast enterprise and has been spending more of her time shopping and hiring help than running errands for me."

"Don't mind a bit," Leslie said. "I'll be on my way home as soon as Simon leaves."

It was half an hour before Simon was ready to go; he had two large overloaded suitcases with him when the chauffeur brought the Mercedes around. Leslie had repacked her bag and left her borrowed room as pristine as when she'd first arrived, and just for good measure had hidden Roarke's key inside her shirt. "Well," she said to Simon, "I hope you have a good time."

"Of course I will," Simon said, staring down his nose at her. "You won't be with me, and that's enough to make me enjoy anything."

"Jerk," Leslie muttered and stepped out the door. Both were stonily silent all the way to the marina, where Leslie waited long enough to be sure Simon was not only put aboard a boat but actually well and truly out to sea before returning to the car and requesting to be taken to the main house. She could hardly wait to sleep in her own bed.

Roarke kept Leslie busy scheduling fantasies through the end of the year and had her run several errands; at supper with him, Tattoo and Julie, she got the full update on Julie's brand-new business and wished her luck. And she slept quite soundly in her own room that night, waking refreshed and cheerful the next morning.

"You'll have to return to the Enclave immediately after lunch," Roarke told her about an hour after breakfast, when she walked into the study with the day's mail and a hatbox-sized package that she had just picked up for him at the island post office. "I have just had a telephone call from the marina, and it seems that Simon has decided to cut short his little excursion by several hours." She winced, and he smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry, child."

"It's only Wednesday," she protested. "What am I supposed to do with him for the next four days? His mother isn't due back till Sunday night!"

"I know, Leslie, I know," Roarke said. "But as I recall, Mrs. Lightwood-Wynton did suggest you introduce your friends to him. Has he met any of them yet?"

"He did on Saturday when we went riding," Leslie told him. "Myeko and Camille and Lauren and Michiko were able to come with us. Unfortunately, he was as rude to them as he's been to me, and you can probably imagine Camille's reaction in particular."

Roarke loosed a mirthless chuckle and nodded. "Indeed," was all he would say. "Well, you don't have to leave here immediately, of course, so why don't you give me that package and go through the mail for me."

Leslie put the package on the desk in front of him and settled into her usual chair at one side, knocking the letters into a tidy stack and setting the pile on the desk just beside her before pulling the top one off and slicing the envelope open. "I just hope he doesn't ask me to take him to the casino again," she said.

Roarke chuckled. "Of course, the forbidden undoubtedly holds a special attraction for him, so you'll have to be on your guard."

§ § § -- July 22, 1982

She remembered those words on Thursday evening when she finally held the slumber party she had mentioned to her friends. All six were able to attend, and they deliberately set up camp in the ballroom where Catherine Lightwood-Wynton's special time-travel portal had been constructed, even though Leslie was reasonably certain Simon had been turned off so thoroughly by his experience on Monday that he wasn't likely to try again. "But it never hurts to be safe," she remarked when she explained to her friends why they were in the ballroom. Two of the maids had wheeled in a television set with a VCR and plenty of movies on tape, and they had also left behind a table filled with chips and dip, meatballs in marinara sauce which they could pile into small sandwich buns, pizza, soda, brownies and cookies.

"Yeah, probably not," Myeko agreed, scooping some dip onto a paper plate and loading up with chips. "What trouble's he been causing lately?"

"Not much actually," Leslie said. "He was on an overnight boat trip to one of those little unpopulated islands Tuesday and yesterday, so I actually got to sleep in my own room on Tuesday night. Of course, now that he's back, who knows what'll happen."

"Especially after Monday," Myeko agreed.

"What happened on Monday?" Lauren wanted to know, and that meant Myeko and Leslie had to regale the other girls with their time-travel adventures that day. They had quite a mixed bag of reactions; Frida looked horrified, while Camille looked envious.

"Geez," she complained. "I'm never in the right place at the right time for these things. That would've been so cool!"

"Scary, though," Michiko observed. "Especially considering where you went."

"I wouldn't mind seeing ancient Australia myself," Maureen admitted. "Too bad you didn't try that one. You can't tell me you didn't have some fun after all."

"Well, going back to samurai-warrior Japan was pretty neat," Myeko said, grinning. "Even though I don't speak a word of Japanese, it didn't matter really. It was like everybody spoke English and understood me when I spoke it to them."

"Impossible," Lauren scoffed. "How can that be? Nobody in any of those societies spoke English. Leslie, what gives?"

Leslie flipped her hands palm-up in the air. "Don't ask me," she said. "I wondered the same thing, and all I can do is ask Mr. Roarke. And I didn't think to do that when I was home Tuesday and yesterday." She sighed. "I was more worried about what new stunt Simon was gonna pull. To be honest, he hasn't really done anything at all since we came back here. He spent all yesterday afternoon in his room for some reason, and then he slept till past noon today. When he finally deigned to make an appearance, he said he needed to make a trip to town, and he disappeared with the chauffeur till just before suppertime. And now he's in his room again. I think he's up to something."

"Sounds suspicious to me all right," Myeko agreed.

"Perhaps he is only tired," Frida offered, though it was clear she doubted her own words, from the look on her face.

"How could he be tired?" Camille demanded, scowling at her. "Are you deaf or something? Leslie just said he slept till after lunchtime."

"Recharging his batteries, I'm sure," Michiko said with a little laugh. "I'm almost sorry we don't get to see him. I'd like to see firsthand just how bad he really is."

At that precise moment one of the young Polynesian maids hurried into the room. "Miss Leslie," she said urgently, "there's a problem. Master Simon isn't in his room."

Leslie looked up. "I guess he's finally out of hibernation," she said, and her friends laughed; but the maid merely shook her head.

"No, that's not all. We've checked all the rooms. He isn't in the house at all."

"I suppose he didn't bother to tell anyone where he was going," Leslie said heavily. Again the maid shook her head, and Leslie sighed. "He could've gone for a late-night swim or maybe off to the beach. I don't know. I'm just sick of being responsible for him."

"Out of sight, out of mind," Camille said dismissively, biting into a slice of pizza. "Let him do his thing. At least he's leaving us alone."

"I still say something isn't right," the maid insisted uneasily. "This is why." She came to Leslie and handed her a slip of paper. Leslie unfolded it and realized it was a receipt from a shop in town. Scanning it, she frowned in bewilderment.

"Why would he need mountain-climbing equipment?" she asked.

Her friends looked at one another, and Lauren grinned. "Scaling Tutumoa to watch the moon rise, maybe?" she kidded.

"Or climbing walls to stare into people's windows," Myeko offered. "After the way he sneaked into Leslie's room in the middle of the night, and then stole the key while she was in the shower, I wouldn't put it past him to be a peeping Tom."

Climbing walls, Leslie thought, and her mind skipped a track or two, for some reason picturing the tall thick walls surrounding the deserted Duncan estate. And the moment she did, she remembered Simon's fascination with the place. She stared at Myeko. "Remember that deal he tried to make with me the night he was going to steal the key?"

Myeko thought it over and then looked at Leslie with wide eyes. "You mean…the chateau? Oh my God…I bet you're right."

"What chateau?" Maureen asked.

"The one Claude Duncan owned," Leslie said. "When we first came up here, he saw the lane leading to it and wanted to know where it went. Mr. Roarke told him, and he seemed a little too interested in it. Then, the night he came into my room when Myeko was sleeping over, he tried to make a deal with me—that he'd forget about the key Mr. Roarke gave me if I'd take him through the chateau."

"But no one has permission to go in there," Frida protested. "Why does he want to go to that place? It would be frightening to me."

"He's just fixated on it for some reason," Leslie said, shrugging. "I kept telling him no, but he never did listen to anything I said. He's a spoiled rich kid who always has to have his own way no matter what the rules are. And I think he's found a way to get his way again. I don't think I have any choice except to go after him."

"You can't go alone," Michiko protested immediately. "We'll all go with you."

"Yeah," Camille promptly seconded. "There're seven of us and only one of him, so if we do find him in there, we'll knock him cold and carry him out if we have to."

Leslie grinned. "You guys are great," she said. "Well, let's see what we can do. I know we'll have to drive up there, because the chateau is isolated. Mr. Roarke set it up that way on purpose when Claude Duncan came to live here. That lane's almost two miles long. If Simon walked there, he had a serious hike."

"I'm sure that wouldn't have been enough to stop him," Myeko said. "Are we gonna have to walk it too, or do you think we can get hold of a car?"

Leslie shrugged. "We'd be better off in a car, that's for sure." She turned to the maid. "Do me a favor, please, and ask Albert to bring the car around front. It's too far to walk and there are too many of us, so we're better off with transportation."

"Right away, Miss Leslie," the maid said and scurried out of the room.

"What next?" asked Lauren.

Leslie thought about it for a moment. "Well, I don't know how we're going to get inside the chateau, not offhand at least. There's only one gate that goes inside the grounds, and there's a big padlock on it. To the best of my knowledge, Mr. Roarke has the only key to it. And I'm not going to try to sneak into his desk to get it."

"Then what do we do?" Maureen wanted to know. "I'm not sure I'm in shape to go rappelling over the walls the way Simon apparently did."

"We could always climb a tree," Michiko offered suddenly. "Aren't there trees near the retaining walls, Leslie?"

"Not out front," Leslie murmured, trying to remember what she had seen the one time she'd accompanied Roarke to the chateau. "But we can always check the side walls. Well, come on, let's get to the car and get there first, and see what we're up against."