Chapter Six: Teasing Trixie
This story is rated blue star and is suitable for all ages
Trixie and Honey linked arms and together raised their heads to admire the beautifully carved ceiling of the old building.
“I can’t believe we’re going to be able to hold our show in this wonderful place,” Honey said, hazel eyes wide.
Trixie nodded. “It’s got everything we need; it’s perfect, in fact.”
The two girls, along with Jim, Mart, and Peter Belden, had arrived promptly at eleven to meet with the new arts centre’s director. What they’d seen had truly delighted them. The gracious old brick building had been completely gutted on the inside and refurbished according to the design of a 1920s New York theatre. The stall and dress circle seats were upholstered in deep moss green velvet and Honey fingered the fabric somewhat reverently. Dark wood panelling ran along the lower part of the walls, and glass sconces threw pools of yellow light onto the dark red patterned carpet.
“So, ladies, what’s the verdict?” Ian Saunders, walking with Trixie’s father, approached the two young girls, a smile on his plump face.
“We love it,” they chorused.
“You’re seeing it at its best. Tomorrow morning the floors and walls will all be covered in preparation for the final paintwork.”
“I’d have thought it would be easier to paint first,” Honey said, eyeing the marked and faded upper walls and imagining what would happen if the lush floor coverings or walnut wood were to be splashed with paint.”
“That was our original intention,” Mr. Saunders admitted. “But scheduling work like this can be difficult. A lot of what you see here, which we got from an old theatre that was about to be torn down, arrived earlier than expected. It necessitated some changes. Anyway, we have a very professional company coming in to do the job, so I’m sure everything will be fine.”
“It’s absolutely wonderful!” Trixie declared, blue eyes dancing. “We can’t believe you’re letting us stage the benefit here.”
“I’m more than happy for you to use it. I had relatives who lost everything in a hurricane, and it takes a long while to rebuild a life that’s suffered that kind of loss.” Mr. Saunders invited them to take a seat in the front row of the newly built stalls.
“We just hope that we can make enough money to make a difference.” Trixie sank into the comfortable chair as she spoke.
“From what I can see, you’re bound to be a success, and I for one would like to take out a full-page-ad in your program advertising the new arts centre and its facilities.”
“Gee, sir, I don’t think we can ask you to pay for an ad when you’re letting us use the centre for free.” Trixie frowned and looked at Honey inquiringly.
Honey hesitated, and Mr. Saunders shook his balding head. “Nonsense, every dollar counts. That advertising will be money well spent from both our points of view.”
Trixie nodded, accepting this explanation and grateful for the additional funds, and pulled out her folder to make a note of the sale while Honey thanked the generous director.
Meanwhile, Trixie’s father was gazing around the room, his expression both admiring and surprised. “It all looks so different.”
“It’s hard to imagine this building as a bank; it’s so well suited to being a theatre,” Honey said politely.
Peter Belden nodded. “Even I’m having trouble remembering exactly how everything was laid out.”
“I do have a copy of the original floor plan, if you’d like to see it at some stage,” Mr. Saunders offered.
At that moment Jim and Mart approached, both sporting wide grins. “That control booth is state of the art,” Mart enthused. “You girls won’t have to worry about sound systems or additional lighting. We’ll have everything we could possibly want.”
Jim nodded as he sat down next to Trixie. “The dressing rooms and front of house are just as good. We can’t tell you what this means to us, sir,” he added, with an appreciative nod to Mr. Saunders.
The older man laughed. “I’ve already been thoroughly thanked by these lovely young ladies, I assure you.”
Mart looked as if he was about to make a smart remark, but the expression on his father’s face kept him quiet.
“We just hope we won’t be in the way of your paint crew,” Jim remarked, a slight frown crossing his face.
Mr. Saunders shook his head. “I’ve already spoken to the foreperson, and he understands the importance of what you’re doing. Anyway, generally they start early and finish by four, four-thirty so you probably won’t have that much of a crossover.” He pulled a set of keys from his pocket as he spoke. “Now, who will take charge of these?”
Jim, Honey and Mart all spoke at once.
“Trixie.”
Mr. Saunders smiled and handed her the set of keys, and the young sleuth accepted them with a smile and slight gulp.
“I promise to be super careful,” she said.
“Were you in Sleepyside when this was still a bank, Mr. Saunders?” Mart asked.
The older man nodded. “I’d only just moved to Sleepyside then and I’d dealt with the bank, so I knew your father a little.”
“So you remember the robbery?” Trixie kept her tone casual, but nobody could miss the eager expressions on her and Honey’s faces.
“Of course, it was the kind of thing that happened all the time in the big city, but a first for Sleepyside, I believe.”
Mr. Belden nodded and gave his daughter a probing look.
“Dad says they didn’t actually catch all the crooks at the time,” Trixie continued.
“No, I believe the proceeds disappeared along with the third perpetrator, Lionel Simpson.”
“That must have made his,” Honey hesitated over the correct term, “colleagues, cohorts, pretty angry.”
“There was also talk of a fourth accomplice, but there was no evidence of any such thing,” Peter Belden said. “I believe that’s not uncommon with criminal trials; lawyers trying to throw the blame onto an ‘unknown’ party.”
“Of course,” Mr. Saunders added, “that came about when they were unable to match the bullet from either man’s gun. I confess I did a little research after this project got underway. The prosecutor alleged, and the jury agreed, that Simpson was the one who probably shot the guard. Otherwise I’m sure they would have received longer sentences.”
“Well, I’m glad they’re safely locked up in prison. They can’t be very nice people,” Honey observed.
An almost imperceptible look passed between Peter Belden and Ian Saunders. Jim and Mart didn’t notice. The former was patting his sister’s shoulder and the latter was lolling back in his seat admiring the carved ceiling. Trixie, however, caught the look and promised herself that she would quiz Honey about it later.
They talked about the theatre all the way home, but Trixie found it hard to concentrate. She was longing to speak to Honey alone and fidgeted in her seat impatiently.
“You okay, Trix?” Jim asked.
“Just excited I guess,” Trixie mumbled.
“Mulling over the mystery of the missing money,” Mart said with a snort, but his blue eyes twinkled.
Trixie wrinkled her nose at him. He knew her too well.
“Honestly,” he continued, “did you have to ask Mr. Saunders about the robbery? Just once it might be nice if you concentrated on the task at hand.”
Trixie looked set to fire back but Peter Belden shook his head at his middle son. “She’s not the one who’s distracted at the moment, is she?”
Jim smothered a grin at Mart’s reddening face. “Anyway, we sure lucked out scoring that place for our show, didn’t we?”
Honey and Trixie both nodded.
“I must say I was more than impressed; I was enchanted, infatuated, and entranced. Our illustrious venue is impeccable, indefectible.” Mart looked all set to continue, but a collective groan from the others, including his father, brought him up short.
“One day I really must work out where you get that from, Mart,” Mr. Belden said.
“It is a quality uniquely mine,” his son replied.
“Thank goodness,” Trixie said with a shudder. “We couldn’t stand two of you.”
They all laughed, even Mart, as the car pulled into Crabapple Farm.
“I’m gonna call Di. Is three o’clock still okay for our meeting?”
Trixie and Jim both nodded and the latter added, “I’ll go up to the house and see Miss Trask. I can call Dan from there. You two can let Brian know.”
They all hurried off.
Trixie reached for Honey’s arm and dragged her through the kitchen and into the hallway. Brian appeared in the doorway. “Hi. Did everything go all right? What was the place like?”
Honey opened her mouth to answer him, but Trixie merely waved him away.
“We’ll be down in a while,” she said, pulling a flustered Honey up the stairs after her.
Brian’s bewildered gaze followed them and he turned to see Bobby standing next to him.
“They’re always rushin’ off somewhere.” Bobby shook his sandy head.
“They are, aren’t they?” Brian agreed with a wry grin.
“Are all girls like that?” Bobby wanted to know.
Brian thought for a minute. “Maybe not, Trixie and Honey are pretty special.”
“I think so too,” Bobby said, taking hold of his older brother’s hand.
“How about you and I fix us some lunch?” Brian offered.
Bobby nodded. “We can make some for Dad, too,” he said.
Brian smiled down at him. “That’s a very good idea.” And the two went into the kitchen.
Trixie closed the door behind her and motioned for Honey to sit down.
“What was that about?” Honey demanded.
“I had to talk to you, and once you started telling Brian about this morning we’d have been there all day,” Trixie said.
Honey ignored this blatant exaggeration. “What’s so urgent then?”
Trixie took a deep breath. “When you were talking about the robbers being in prison, did you notice the way Dad and Mr. Saunders looked at one another?”
Honey wrinkled her forehead. “No, I didn’t notice a thing.”
Trixie frowned and tried not to show her impatience. Sometimes Honey’s mind didn’t seem to be totally focused on being a detective. “You really should try to pay closer attention,” she said with a soft sigh of disappointment.
“I guess I’m not always as observant as you,” Honey said humbly.
Trixie flushed, realising her friend’s feelings were hurt. “I think maybe we’re just observant at different times and that’s one of the things that makes us a great team,” she hastily explained, hoping to make amends.
Honey smiled, satisfied. “Okay, partner, so what did I miss?”
Quickly, Trixie filled her friend in on her suspicions and Honey’s eyes widened in alarm.
“Why didn’t you ask your dad?”
Trixie slumped across her bed. “And listen to Mart kid me the rest of the way home? No, thanks! I wanted to talk to you first, then we can go ask Dad while Mart is otherwise occupied.”
“Well let’s go now,” Honey said, scrambling off the other bed. “If I have to deal with ex-bank robbers and sing in public at the same time, I’m going to faint dead away.”
Trixie laughed, knowing that Honey’s tendency to faint in difficult situations was very much a thing of the past. “Even if they are out now, according to Dad and Mr. Saunders the money’s long gone, so they don’t have any reason to bother us. Still, I’d like to know.”
Honey nodded her golden head in agreement, and the two girls went in search of Trixie’s father.
Peter Belden was reading the Sunday paper and drinking coffee in his den. He looked up and smiled when they appeared in the doorway.
“You must be very pleased with the way things are going. The theatre should be marvellous,” he said.
They both nodded. “Dad, we were wondering,” Trixie began, and Honey gave her a gentle nudge. “It’s just that we were talking,” she continued, trying to ignore Honey’s sidelong glance. “It kind of seemed like before…” Trixie began again and then shrugged, deciding to abandon any attempt at subtlety. “Have those guys been released from prison?” she finished bluntly.
Peter Belden closed the paper and put down his coffee cup.
“I should have known,” he said, his tone resigned. “As a matter of a fact, yes, they were released about four or five weeks ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Trixie wanted to know.
Her father sighed. “Because it has nothing to do with anything, Trixie. I’m sure after ten years in prison they’ve learned their lesson and even if they haven’t, there is nothing to bring them back here. If it will help convince you, I kept some newspaper articles from the time. I think they make it clear that Lionel Simpson left the country almost immediately after the robbery took place.”
“What about the fourth accomplice?” Trixie demanded.
“I told you that was just a bit of legal trickery. Neither defendant had any qualms about pointing the finger at Simpson; if there had been anyone else involved, I’m sure they would have done the same.”
Trixie and Honey both sighed, one with disappointment and the other with relief, and Mr. Belden smiled at them both.
“Although I don’t always agree with his chosen method of expression, Mart’s not altogether wrong about your tendency to get carried away with things. I assure you, Trixie, you have no reason to be concerned about these men and you should concentrate all your energies on the very real problem you have chosen to tackle.”
His daughter had little choice but to be satisfied with that and reluctantly she agreed to let it go.
Trixie and Honey were the last to arrive at the clubhouse that afternoon.
“Come on, we’re dying to know how things went,” Dan said
Di nodded her pretty, dark head. “I so wanted to go with you this morning, I had to keep telling myself that I was making lots more money for our treasury fund with all this extra babysitting I’m doing.” One of the twins’ nurses was currently on vacation and Diana was spending a lot more time looking after her younger brothers and sisters than she usually did.
Trixie smiled at her friends and quickly went through the morning’s events. She ended with, “They even have a full sound system and a piano.”
“It sounds beautiful,” Di said when her friend had finished.
“It is,” Jim confirmed. “We couldn’t have asked for a better venue.”
“So, do we have a game plan for tomorrow?” Brian asked, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
“I printed out some more of the forms Mart made up on Dad’s computer,” Jim said. “And Miss Trask said she’s happy to help in any way she can.”
“Oh, I haven’t even been up to the house to see her,” Honey cried. “I’m horrible!”
They all laughed at this and Honey made a face at them.
“She knows you’ve been busy,” Jim assured his sister, “but she is looking forward to seeing you. And don’t forget Dad and Mother come home Thursday.”
“As if I could forget that,” Honey said with a toss of her golden hair.
“I don’t know, I was beginning to think I’d have to tell them that I was their only child now you’ve spent so much time in a certain other family abode around here.”
“I came home last night,” Honey protested.
“Mm,” Jim said, green eyes flashing, “Just as I was at the point of renting out your room to some poor unsuspecting individual.”
“Typical,” Mart said with a grin. “Another perfect plan for betterment and profit foiled by a member of the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency.”
Trixie and Honey exchanged glances at the mention of their future career plans.
Jim and Brian exchanged looks of their own and Dan started unpacking some home-baked biscuits.
“These look great,” Mart said. “Did Mr. Maypenny make ‘em?”
Dan shook his head. “No, I did.”
“For real?” Mart demanded.
Dan rolled his eyes. “You are way too gender and generational traditionalist for you own good. You don’t have to eat them, you know.”
“Hey, I resent the notion that I would discriminate against food on the basis of either the sex or the age of the person who prepared it. And I resent your using my trademark polysyllabic conversational bent even more.”
Diana giggled at this, but when Honey didn’t join in and Trixie didn’t offer a comment of her own, Jim nudged Brian.
“What gives, girl detectives?” the latter demanded.
Trixie jumped and Honey flushed. “Nothing,” they chorused.
“Nice try,” Jim said, while the other Bob-Whites now focused their full attention on the two girls.
Honey raised her eyebrows and Trixie took a deep breath. She looked from one Bob-White to the other, her blue eyes round and serious. “It’s just that we found out today,” she paused, “ something very interesting.”
Mart gave his watch a pointed glance. “Tic-toc,” he said.
Trixie wrinkled her nose at him.
“Well?” Brian met her annoyed expression with a forbearing one.
“It’s only, you know those men who committed that robbery,” Trixie paused again for effect, “ well, they have just been released from prison!”
Silence greeted her somewhat dramatic pronouncement. After a moment, Mart said loudly, “Can I have another one of those biscuits, Dan?”
Trixie and Honey looked at one another in surprise.
“Did you hear what I said?” the former demanded.
“That’s terrible news,” Di said, sensing that some response was required and trying to do the right thing.
“Well, from what you said the timing is about right. Ten or so years for armed robbery isn’t uncommon, especially with time off for good behaviour,” Dan added.
“I never understand that. Would they lengthen their sentences if they behaved badly?” Honey wondered.
“If they break any more laws, they do,” Dan said with a smile.
“What do you think?” Trixie turned to Jim and her face reddened. Jim and Brian were valiantly trying to conceal their laughter.
“Why are you laughing?” she demanded, eyes narrowed.
“We’re sorry, Trix, but honestly, Dad said you probably wouldn’t give up on this.” Brian raised a dark brow knowingly.
Jim just shook his head, green eyes glinting. “You are incorrigible, Trix.” He gasped between chuckles.
“I think Dad thinks you might be imagining some headline. ‘‘‘Teenage detective solves decade old mystery’.” Brian put his hand over his mouth in an effort to stifle his laughter.
“Or ‘Fugitive nabbed by girl sleuths’,” Jim added.
“‘Schoolgirls strike again’,” Brian continued.
“‘Belden and Wheeler recover missing millions’,” Jim chortled
Trixie jumped to her feet. Jim was usually one of her most loyal supporters, and Brian was the brother she could often turn to. Her eyes filled and without another word, she turned away from the two young men and ran out of the clubhouse.
Honey got to her feet, too, and her hazel eyes were full of reproach. Di and Dan both seemed sorry and uncomfortable, and even Mart looked sheepish, but Brian and Jim continued unsuccessfully to try and control their mirth.
“Sorry, sis,” Jim managed finally, meeting her gaze. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but you are both so predictable sometimes.”
Brian nodded. “Not to mention indefatigable.” He wiped his eyes.
Honey looked from one to the other, her expression a mixture of frustration and disappointment.
“I guess you’d better go after her,” Brian suggested.
“But no flouncing,” Jim added, with a smile, shaking his finger at her. “I swear, let them anywhere near a possible mystery and…” He shook his head.
“At the sound of the bell,” future doctor Brian said, dark eyes gleaming.
Honey looked puzzled then slowly her expression altered. “Did you just compare us to dogs?” she asked, her voice rising in both tone and volume.
Jim half-choked at this while Brian flashed her a guilty smile. “No, at least, not exactly. Oh, I knew I should have stayed away from Intro to Psych.” He reached out a hand. “Don’t get all worked up, please.”
Suddenly, Honey had had enough. Her normally sweet disposition and even- temper deserted her. While he was speaking, she walked across to the conference table, picked up the big jug of sparkling water Di had placed on it, and stalked over to where they were sitting.
“Predictable, are we?” she demanded, hazel eyes dark with anger. “I guess with all that laughing and joking you two must be really thirsty.” Without warning she flung the jug’s contents over the two astonished young men.
“I will get as worked up as I please, and you’re not even the tiniest bit funny,” she said and set off after Trixie, with a very deliberate flounce.
word count: 3399
BSM:MAIN NEXT
Continued thanks to Dana for editing, fixing and encouraging. Trixie Belden et al belong to Random House and not to me. No profit is being made from these scribblings.
“I can’t believe we’re going to be able to hold our show in this wonderful place,” Honey said, hazel eyes wide.
Trixie nodded. “It’s got everything we need; it’s perfect, in fact.”
The two girls, along with Jim, Mart, and Peter Belden, had arrived promptly at eleven to meet with the new arts centre’s director. What they’d seen had truly delighted them. The gracious old brick building had been completely gutted on the inside and refurbished according to the design of a 1920s New York theatre. The stall and dress circle seats were upholstered in deep moss green velvet and Honey fingered the fabric somewhat reverently. Dark wood panelling ran along the lower part of the walls, and glass sconces threw pools of yellow light onto the dark red patterned carpet.
“So, ladies, what’s the verdict?” Ian Saunders, walking with Trixie’s father, approached the two young girls, a smile on his plump face.
“We love it,” they chorused.
“You’re seeing it at its best. Tomorrow morning the floors and walls will all be covered in preparation for the final paintwork.”
“I’d have thought it would be easier to paint first,” Honey said, eyeing the marked and faded upper walls and imagining what would happen if the lush floor coverings or walnut wood were to be splashed with paint.”
“That was our original intention,” Mr. Saunders admitted. “But scheduling work like this can be difficult. A lot of what you see here, which we got from an old theatre that was about to be torn down, arrived earlier than expected. It necessitated some changes. Anyway, we have a very professional company coming in to do the job, so I’m sure everything will be fine.”
“It’s absolutely wonderful!” Trixie declared, blue eyes dancing. “We can’t believe you’re letting us stage the benefit here.”
“I’m more than happy for you to use it. I had relatives who lost everything in a hurricane, and it takes a long while to rebuild a life that’s suffered that kind of loss.” Mr. Saunders invited them to take a seat in the front row of the newly built stalls.
“We just hope that we can make enough money to make a difference.” Trixie sank into the comfortable chair as she spoke.
“From what I can see, you’re bound to be a success, and I for one would like to take out a full-page-ad in your program advertising the new arts centre and its facilities.”
“Gee, sir, I don’t think we can ask you to pay for an ad when you’re letting us use the centre for free.” Trixie frowned and looked at Honey inquiringly.
Honey hesitated, and Mr. Saunders shook his balding head. “Nonsense, every dollar counts. That advertising will be money well spent from both our points of view.”
Trixie nodded, accepting this explanation and grateful for the additional funds, and pulled out her folder to make a note of the sale while Honey thanked the generous director.
Meanwhile, Trixie’s father was gazing around the room, his expression both admiring and surprised. “It all looks so different.”
“It’s hard to imagine this building as a bank; it’s so well suited to being a theatre,” Honey said politely.
Peter Belden nodded. “Even I’m having trouble remembering exactly how everything was laid out.”
“I do have a copy of the original floor plan, if you’d like to see it at some stage,” Mr. Saunders offered.
At that moment Jim and Mart approached, both sporting wide grins. “That control booth is state of the art,” Mart enthused. “You girls won’t have to worry about sound systems or additional lighting. We’ll have everything we could possibly want.”
Jim nodded as he sat down next to Trixie. “The dressing rooms and front of house are just as good. We can’t tell you what this means to us, sir,” he added, with an appreciative nod to Mr. Saunders.
The older man laughed. “I’ve already been thoroughly thanked by these lovely young ladies, I assure you.”
Mart looked as if he was about to make a smart remark, but the expression on his father’s face kept him quiet.
“We just hope we won’t be in the way of your paint crew,” Jim remarked, a slight frown crossing his face.
Mr. Saunders shook his head. “I’ve already spoken to the foreperson, and he understands the importance of what you’re doing. Anyway, generally they start early and finish by four, four-thirty so you probably won’t have that much of a crossover.” He pulled a set of keys from his pocket as he spoke. “Now, who will take charge of these?”
Jim, Honey and Mart all spoke at once.
“Trixie.”
Mr. Saunders smiled and handed her the set of keys, and the young sleuth accepted them with a smile and slight gulp.
“I promise to be super careful,” she said.
“Were you in Sleepyside when this was still a bank, Mr. Saunders?” Mart asked.
The older man nodded. “I’d only just moved to Sleepyside then and I’d dealt with the bank, so I knew your father a little.”
“So you remember the robbery?” Trixie kept her tone casual, but nobody could miss the eager expressions on her and Honey’s faces.
“Of course, it was the kind of thing that happened all the time in the big city, but a first for Sleepyside, I believe.”
Mr. Belden nodded and gave his daughter a probing look.
“Dad says they didn’t actually catch all the crooks at the time,” Trixie continued.
“No, I believe the proceeds disappeared along with the third perpetrator, Lionel Simpson.”
“That must have made his,” Honey hesitated over the correct term, “colleagues, cohorts, pretty angry.”
“There was also talk of a fourth accomplice, but there was no evidence of any such thing,” Peter Belden said. “I believe that’s not uncommon with criminal trials; lawyers trying to throw the blame onto an ‘unknown’ party.”
“Of course,” Mr. Saunders added, “that came about when they were unable to match the bullet from either man’s gun. I confess I did a little research after this project got underway. The prosecutor alleged, and the jury agreed, that Simpson was the one who probably shot the guard. Otherwise I’m sure they would have received longer sentences.”
“Well, I’m glad they’re safely locked up in prison. They can’t be very nice people,” Honey observed.
An almost imperceptible look passed between Peter Belden and Ian Saunders. Jim and Mart didn’t notice. The former was patting his sister’s shoulder and the latter was lolling back in his seat admiring the carved ceiling. Trixie, however, caught the look and promised herself that she would quiz Honey about it later.
They talked about the theatre all the way home, but Trixie found it hard to concentrate. She was longing to speak to Honey alone and fidgeted in her seat impatiently.
“You okay, Trix?” Jim asked.
“Just excited I guess,” Trixie mumbled.
“Mulling over the mystery of the missing money,” Mart said with a snort, but his blue eyes twinkled.
Trixie wrinkled her nose at him. He knew her too well.
“Honestly,” he continued, “did you have to ask Mr. Saunders about the robbery? Just once it might be nice if you concentrated on the task at hand.”
Trixie looked set to fire back but Peter Belden shook his head at his middle son. “She’s not the one who’s distracted at the moment, is she?”
Jim smothered a grin at Mart’s reddening face. “Anyway, we sure lucked out scoring that place for our show, didn’t we?”
Honey and Trixie both nodded.
“I must say I was more than impressed; I was enchanted, infatuated, and entranced. Our illustrious venue is impeccable, indefectible.” Mart looked all set to continue, but a collective groan from the others, including his father, brought him up short.
“One day I really must work out where you get that from, Mart,” Mr. Belden said.
“It is a quality uniquely mine,” his son replied.
“Thank goodness,” Trixie said with a shudder. “We couldn’t stand two of you.”
They all laughed, even Mart, as the car pulled into Crabapple Farm.
“I’m gonna call Di. Is three o’clock still okay for our meeting?”
Trixie and Jim both nodded and the latter added, “I’ll go up to the house and see Miss Trask. I can call Dan from there. You two can let Brian know.”
They all hurried off.
Trixie reached for Honey’s arm and dragged her through the kitchen and into the hallway. Brian appeared in the doorway. “Hi. Did everything go all right? What was the place like?”
Honey opened her mouth to answer him, but Trixie merely waved him away.
“We’ll be down in a while,” she said, pulling a flustered Honey up the stairs after her.
Brian’s bewildered gaze followed them and he turned to see Bobby standing next to him.
“They’re always rushin’ off somewhere.” Bobby shook his sandy head.
“They are, aren’t they?” Brian agreed with a wry grin.
“Are all girls like that?” Bobby wanted to know.
Brian thought for a minute. “Maybe not, Trixie and Honey are pretty special.”
“I think so too,” Bobby said, taking hold of his older brother’s hand.
“How about you and I fix us some lunch?” Brian offered.
Bobby nodded. “We can make some for Dad, too,” he said.
Brian smiled down at him. “That’s a very good idea.” And the two went into the kitchen.
Trixie closed the door behind her and motioned for Honey to sit down.
“What was that about?” Honey demanded.
“I had to talk to you, and once you started telling Brian about this morning we’d have been there all day,” Trixie said.
Honey ignored this blatant exaggeration. “What’s so urgent then?”
Trixie took a deep breath. “When you were talking about the robbers being in prison, did you notice the way Dad and Mr. Saunders looked at one another?”
Honey wrinkled her forehead. “No, I didn’t notice a thing.”
Trixie frowned and tried not to show her impatience. Sometimes Honey’s mind didn’t seem to be totally focused on being a detective. “You really should try to pay closer attention,” she said with a soft sigh of disappointment.
“I guess I’m not always as observant as you,” Honey said humbly.
Trixie flushed, realising her friend’s feelings were hurt. “I think maybe we’re just observant at different times and that’s one of the things that makes us a great team,” she hastily explained, hoping to make amends.
Honey smiled, satisfied. “Okay, partner, so what did I miss?”
Quickly, Trixie filled her friend in on her suspicions and Honey’s eyes widened in alarm.
“Why didn’t you ask your dad?”
Trixie slumped across her bed. “And listen to Mart kid me the rest of the way home? No, thanks! I wanted to talk to you first, then we can go ask Dad while Mart is otherwise occupied.”
“Well let’s go now,” Honey said, scrambling off the other bed. “If I have to deal with ex-bank robbers and sing in public at the same time, I’m going to faint dead away.”
Trixie laughed, knowing that Honey’s tendency to faint in difficult situations was very much a thing of the past. “Even if they are out now, according to Dad and Mr. Saunders the money’s long gone, so they don’t have any reason to bother us. Still, I’d like to know.”
Honey nodded her golden head in agreement, and the two girls went in search of Trixie’s father.
Peter Belden was reading the Sunday paper and drinking coffee in his den. He looked up and smiled when they appeared in the doorway.
“You must be very pleased with the way things are going. The theatre should be marvellous,” he said.
They both nodded. “Dad, we were wondering,” Trixie began, and Honey gave her a gentle nudge. “It’s just that we were talking,” she continued, trying to ignore Honey’s sidelong glance. “It kind of seemed like before…” Trixie began again and then shrugged, deciding to abandon any attempt at subtlety. “Have those guys been released from prison?” she finished bluntly.
Peter Belden closed the paper and put down his coffee cup.
“I should have known,” he said, his tone resigned. “As a matter of a fact, yes, they were released about four or five weeks ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Trixie wanted to know.
Her father sighed. “Because it has nothing to do with anything, Trixie. I’m sure after ten years in prison they’ve learned their lesson and even if they haven’t, there is nothing to bring them back here. If it will help convince you, I kept some newspaper articles from the time. I think they make it clear that Lionel Simpson left the country almost immediately after the robbery took place.”
“What about the fourth accomplice?” Trixie demanded.
“I told you that was just a bit of legal trickery. Neither defendant had any qualms about pointing the finger at Simpson; if there had been anyone else involved, I’m sure they would have done the same.”
Trixie and Honey both sighed, one with disappointment and the other with relief, and Mr. Belden smiled at them both.
“Although I don’t always agree with his chosen method of expression, Mart’s not altogether wrong about your tendency to get carried away with things. I assure you, Trixie, you have no reason to be concerned about these men and you should concentrate all your energies on the very real problem you have chosen to tackle.”
His daughter had little choice but to be satisfied with that and reluctantly she agreed to let it go.
Trixie and Honey were the last to arrive at the clubhouse that afternoon.
“Come on, we’re dying to know how things went,” Dan said
Di nodded her pretty, dark head. “I so wanted to go with you this morning, I had to keep telling myself that I was making lots more money for our treasury fund with all this extra babysitting I’m doing.” One of the twins’ nurses was currently on vacation and Diana was spending a lot more time looking after her younger brothers and sisters than she usually did.
Trixie smiled at her friends and quickly went through the morning’s events. She ended with, “They even have a full sound system and a piano.”
“It sounds beautiful,” Di said when her friend had finished.
“It is,” Jim confirmed. “We couldn’t have asked for a better venue.”
“So, do we have a game plan for tomorrow?” Brian asked, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
“I printed out some more of the forms Mart made up on Dad’s computer,” Jim said. “And Miss Trask said she’s happy to help in any way she can.”
“Oh, I haven’t even been up to the house to see her,” Honey cried. “I’m horrible!”
They all laughed at this and Honey made a face at them.
“She knows you’ve been busy,” Jim assured his sister, “but she is looking forward to seeing you. And don’t forget Dad and Mother come home Thursday.”
“As if I could forget that,” Honey said with a toss of her golden hair.
“I don’t know, I was beginning to think I’d have to tell them that I was their only child now you’ve spent so much time in a certain other family abode around here.”
“I came home last night,” Honey protested.
“Mm,” Jim said, green eyes flashing, “Just as I was at the point of renting out your room to some poor unsuspecting individual.”
“Typical,” Mart said with a grin. “Another perfect plan for betterment and profit foiled by a member of the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency.”
Trixie and Honey exchanged glances at the mention of their future career plans.
Jim and Brian exchanged looks of their own and Dan started unpacking some home-baked biscuits.
“These look great,” Mart said. “Did Mr. Maypenny make ‘em?”
Dan shook his head. “No, I did.”
“For real?” Mart demanded.
Dan rolled his eyes. “You are way too gender and generational traditionalist for you own good. You don’t have to eat them, you know.”
“Hey, I resent the notion that I would discriminate against food on the basis of either the sex or the age of the person who prepared it. And I resent your using my trademark polysyllabic conversational bent even more.”
Diana giggled at this, but when Honey didn’t join in and Trixie didn’t offer a comment of her own, Jim nudged Brian.
“What gives, girl detectives?” the latter demanded.
Trixie jumped and Honey flushed. “Nothing,” they chorused.
“Nice try,” Jim said, while the other Bob-Whites now focused their full attention on the two girls.
Honey raised her eyebrows and Trixie took a deep breath. She looked from one Bob-White to the other, her blue eyes round and serious. “It’s just that we found out today,” she paused, “ something very interesting.”
Mart gave his watch a pointed glance. “Tic-toc,” he said.
Trixie wrinkled her nose at him.
“Well?” Brian met her annoyed expression with a forbearing one.
“It’s only, you know those men who committed that robbery,” Trixie paused again for effect, “ well, they have just been released from prison!”
Silence greeted her somewhat dramatic pronouncement. After a moment, Mart said loudly, “Can I have another one of those biscuits, Dan?”
Trixie and Honey looked at one another in surprise.
“Did you hear what I said?” the former demanded.
“That’s terrible news,” Di said, sensing that some response was required and trying to do the right thing.
“Well, from what you said the timing is about right. Ten or so years for armed robbery isn’t uncommon, especially with time off for good behaviour,” Dan added.
“I never understand that. Would they lengthen their sentences if they behaved badly?” Honey wondered.
“If they break any more laws, they do,” Dan said with a smile.
“What do you think?” Trixie turned to Jim and her face reddened. Jim and Brian were valiantly trying to conceal their laughter.
“Why are you laughing?” she demanded, eyes narrowed.
“We’re sorry, Trix, but honestly, Dad said you probably wouldn’t give up on this.” Brian raised a dark brow knowingly.
Jim just shook his head, green eyes glinting. “You are incorrigible, Trix.” He gasped between chuckles.
“I think Dad thinks you might be imagining some headline. ‘‘‘Teenage detective solves decade old mystery’.” Brian put his hand over his mouth in an effort to stifle his laughter.
“Or ‘Fugitive nabbed by girl sleuths’,” Jim added.
“‘Schoolgirls strike again’,” Brian continued.
“‘Belden and Wheeler recover missing millions’,” Jim chortled
Trixie jumped to her feet. Jim was usually one of her most loyal supporters, and Brian was the brother she could often turn to. Her eyes filled and without another word, she turned away from the two young men and ran out of the clubhouse.
Honey got to her feet, too, and her hazel eyes were full of reproach. Di and Dan both seemed sorry and uncomfortable, and even Mart looked sheepish, but Brian and Jim continued unsuccessfully to try and control their mirth.
“Sorry, sis,” Jim managed finally, meeting her gaze. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but you are both so predictable sometimes.”
Brian nodded. “Not to mention indefatigable.” He wiped his eyes.
Honey looked from one to the other, her expression a mixture of frustration and disappointment.
“I guess you’d better go after her,” Brian suggested.
“But no flouncing,” Jim added, with a smile, shaking his finger at her. “I swear, let them anywhere near a possible mystery and…” He shook his head.
“At the sound of the bell,” future doctor Brian said, dark eyes gleaming.
Honey looked puzzled then slowly her expression altered. “Did you just compare us to dogs?” she asked, her voice rising in both tone and volume.
Jim half-choked at this while Brian flashed her a guilty smile. “No, at least, not exactly. Oh, I knew I should have stayed away from Intro to Psych.” He reached out a hand. “Don’t get all worked up, please.”
Suddenly, Honey had had enough. Her normally sweet disposition and even- temper deserted her. While he was speaking, she walked across to the conference table, picked up the big jug of sparkling water Di had placed on it, and stalked over to where they were sitting.
“Predictable, are we?” she demanded, hazel eyes dark with anger. “I guess with all that laughing and joking you two must be really thirsty.” Without warning she flung the jug’s contents over the two astonished young men.
“I will get as worked up as I please, and you’re not even the tiniest bit funny,” she said and set off after Trixie, with a very deliberate flounce.
word count: 3399
BSM:MAIN NEXT
Continued thanks to Dana for editing, fixing and encouraging. Trixie Belden et al belong to Random House and not to me. No profit is being made from these scribblings.
