Girls Friday

 

 
“Yes, sir, I’ll bring the coffee through.” Honey Wheeler dropped the phone back in its cradle and did her best not to meet the blue-eyed gaze of her best-friend Trixie Belden.
“Just as well it’s you he asked,” Trixie grumbled.
“It is what I’m here for,” Honey reminded her with a rueful smile.
“You’re better at it than I am.” Trixie shuffled the papers on her own desk, which was set back in a corner of the outer officer of SOLVED: Private Eye, Inc.
Honey stood and adjusted her olive-green pencil skirt, her hand automatically smoothing her chignon of dark gold hair.
Trixie watched her friend and shook her own only slightly tamed sandy curls, held back from her forehead by a blue band.  “At least as a file clerk/photographer I get to wear trousers.”
“Brian likes my work outfits,” Honey said as she moved through the archway to the kitchenette and pulled down cups and saucers for the coffee.
“Brian likes you in any outfit,” Trixie returned. “In no outfit, if he ever got the chance. Ew, did I just say that out loud?”
“Well, you do have good instincts,” Honey allowed with a grin.
“I’m just frustrated,” Trixie said, keeping her voice low. “You and I both know exactly what’s going on here. It’s ridiculous that you have to ‘sit in’ on interviews, taking notes, when you’re the one analyzing what’s being said.”
“And, it’s equally ridiculous that you’re ‘filing’ cases you solve and taking photos that do the solving…was that good grammar?” Honey shrugged her slim, silk clad shoulders. “But at least we’re working for an investigator, and we’re working together. That was hard enough to organize.”
Carrying a tray with the coffee, she paused at her desk and added a pen and notebook.
“Just as well,” Trixie said with a grin of her own. “If I were here by myself, I might smack his handsome face.”
“You’d better not let him hear you call him handsome.”
“Not to me!” Trixie looked outraged. “But other people think he’s….”
“The perfect private eye,” Honey finished. She moved to the inner office door. “I’ve left coffee and a donut for you in the kitchenette.”
“Best friend ever.” Trixie beamed.
“You and I will probably wind up on stakeout tonight. You need your strength.”
At that moment, the phone rang and the two women exchanged glances. Honey opened the door and went through to their boss’s office.
Trixie picked up the phone and rolled her eyes. “SOLVED—you’ve lost it, we’ll find it.
Ben Riker, Private Eye.”
 
“His royal highness has left the building,” Trixie observed as Honey returned from the bathroom down the hall.
“He’s not that bad, Trix,” Honey said with a grin.
“I know. Well, I sort of know.  I just hate it when he’s talking to clients and brushing aside their gratitude, ‘Oh, it’s nothing. All in a day’s work.’” Trixie made a face.
“To be fair, nothing isn’t that far from the mark where Ben’s input is concerned,” Honey said, straight-faced.
“It’s false modestly. He likes the attention.”
“That’s true,” Honey allowed. “But on the other hand, he lets us investigate, listens to what we have to say and pays us, so….”
“Oh, be logical. See if I care,” Trixie sighed.  “We’ve both been here since eight this morning, and now we have a long evening of stakeout ahead us, while he goes off for some fancy dinner.”
“Wanna trade places?” Honey’s hazel eyes twinkled.
“God, no,” Trixie said. “What I want to know is how you expect to do hours in a cramped car in that outfit?”
“What is your obsession with my clothes today?” Honey demanded. “I’ll have you know that once I found out where we needed to be this evening, I had Brian drop off some things on his way to the hospital.”
“Why didn’t I see him?” Trixie asked with a frown.
“He came by just before noon, when you went out for sandwiches. And he sent his love. And wanted you to remind Jim about our plans for Sunday.”
“He’s looking forward to it,” Trixie said.
“I left my things in the Ben’s closet, so I’ll just go change now.” Honey disappeared into the inner office, and Trixie began to pack up her desk.
A few minutes later, Honey emerged wearing a soft green sweater with wide camel-coloured trousers and low-heeled shoes. She slipped on a matching jacket that nipped in at the waist, emphasizing her slenderness.
“That’s your stakeout wear?” Trixie shook her head.  “I just brought a bulky old sweater of Jim’s to pull over my clothes. It will be cold.”
“Not that cold,” Honey countered.  “I did a bit of checking into our…subject and worked out we could set up in an all-night diner.  That way we won’t freeze, we can eat, have hot coffee and there will be no talking of peeing in a cup!”
Trixie laughed. “You sure hate that.”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“I’m feeling a whole lot happier about tonight now.”
Good.” Honey glanced at her watch. “Let’s hit the road, partner.”
 
Stakeouts and Sleepovers
The stakeout was not in what one would call the best part of town, but the diner was a pleasant surprise. It was shabby, for sure—there were no fancy dishes on the menu, and the other diners could have been down on their luck or in a police line-up—but it was clean, and the woman behind the counter was friendly enough.
            “How did you find this place?”  Trixie asked as they slipped into a booth next to the window. “Ben said we’d need to spend the night, or however long we’re here, in the car.”
            Honey shrugged her shoulders. “You and I both know that attention to detail is not my cousin’s strong suit. He said he’d done a drive by—and I believe that—but he lacks your powers of observation, so I checked out the phone book and found that this diner should give us a clear view of the subject’s apartment block. There’s only the one way in, so it made sense. If I’d been wrong, we still had the car, and we still could have grabbed some food here and used the rest room, so….”
“So,” Trixie continued happily, “we have an endless supply of coffee and a proper meal. Good work. Jim will be pleased. He’s not too keen on you and I spending hours in a car parked in some dark alley. Not that we would have been parked in a dark alley, but you get my drift.”
            “I do. And I’m guessing Brian would agree, too. Though as Jim is your husband, he might have more sway.”
            “Maybe,” Trixie said doubtfully. “Besides, you and Brian are practically married. You would be if he wasn’t such a stubborn, pig-headed—”
            “Hey!” Honey interjected. “That’s my man you’re talking about. And I happen to agree with him. That apartment is too small for the two of us to live in. But he’ll have saved enough by the end of the year for us to take a bigger place together. And, in the meantime….”
            “In the meantime, you’re yet to discover the joys of marriage,” Trixie quipped with a knowing smile.
            Honey hesitated before replying. “Exactly.”
            “Now.” Trixie picked up a menu and scanned it. “Let’s order.”
 
            “God, burgers are good, aren’t they?” Honey licked one of her fingers and smiled in satisfaction.
            “Especially with fries,” Trixie added.
            “Fries are the best,” Honey agreed.
            “At least we enjoyed our dinner. It looks like this surveillance is a big waste of time.”
            “We’ve only been here an hour and a half,” Honey scolded.
            The two had taken their time over coffee, going over the case notes before ordering their meal.           
            “Yeah, and according to what we’ve got, he should have been home by now.”
            “There’s still plenty of time. And let’s face it….” Honey trailed off.
            “Even if—I mean, when, he does show up, it doesn’t get us anywhere unless she shows up, too.”
            Honey nodded, her fingers tracing the pattern on the laminate surface of the table.  “Did you think it would be like this?” she asked.
            “Snooping on possible cheaters?” Trixie shrugged. “Sure, I guess. I mean it’s a P.I. cliché for a reason. That and insurance fraud.”
            “It would never occur to me to cheat an insurance company,” Honey observed, chewing her bottom lip. “I mean you have insurance as a protection against something bad happening. The more people cheat, the higher premiums for honest people become.”
            “And?” Trixie asked, blue eyes twinkling.
            “That’s horrible. A lot of people can barely afford those payments, and, if they keep going up, they won’t be able to, and then the people who really need it won’t have protection and...what?”
            “Sorry,” Trixie managed through her giggles. “But, Hon, I think you’re missing the point. If someone is willing to cheat the insurance company, they’re probably not thinking about some guy running a small business who can’t afford his payments.”
            “Fine. You’re right as usual. I should probably stick to the Girl Friday stuff. I am actually pretty good at that.”
            “Just as well,” Trixie said. “Imagine the mess the place would be in if you weren’t.”
            “Maybe you would be better off if Ben were your partner, though. I’m not sure I’m cut out for this, after all.”
            “Don’t you dare.” Trixie slapped her friend’s arm. “Which one of us worked out where that fourteen-year -old kid had gone? And talked them into calling their family.”
            “That part I seem to be better at.”
            “Good, because that’s the stuff that counts. This is bread and butter, but the more cases we resolve, the more we’ll get the good stuff. And one thing Ben is useful for is spreading around how successful ‘his’ agency is.”
            “And getting us rich clients,” Honey added, holding up a sheet of paper from one of the files.
            Trixie blinked. “Rich clients? That’s terrific, Hon. We all know how well I fit in with rich people.”
            “Yes, from experience, I do know that, actually,” Honey declared tartly. “So does Di.”
            “You know what I mean.”
            “So, you don’t want to investigate a series of robberies that have occurred during house parties in wealthy mansions?”
            Trixie’s eyes rounded. “Actual robberies?”
            “Thefts, really, of jewelry, mainly. The police haven’t been called in because it would appear that the person responsible is one of the hoi-polloi, as you might call them.”
            “Pretty sure I’d call them something else,” Trixie observed with a grin. “But you have piqued my curiosity.” 
            “Well,” Honey said slowly. “I was thinking—” she broke off when Trixie jerked her head at the window, and the man they’d been waiting for appeared under a street lamp on the other side of the road.
            Trixie grabbed her Steky IIIB Miniature camera from the bag at her feet and snapped a couple of shots.  “I’ll say this much for Ben, he is a superior buyer of things. I love this camera.”
            Honey laughed. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d almost think you loved it more than your husband.”
            “Hey!” Trixie protested. “I resent that. And don’t you dare tell him about this camera and me. A girl has to have her secrets.”
            “Well, it sure beats having to get too close to some of the people we spy on,” Honey admitted.
            “Anyway.” Trixie watched as her subject entered the apartment block. A few moments later a later a light went on in a second-floor window, and she snapped again. “This is hardly a money shot, but at least he’s home and he’s left the blinds open, so….”
            “So, now—” Honey waved at the waitress for more coffee “—we sit and wait and see if he gets any company.”
            Trixie nodded and placed her camera on the table. “Oh, joy. My life is just so exciting.”
            Two hours later they had what they needed, though neither one of them felt especially satisfied.
            “It’s what we’re paid to do,” Honey observed as she emerged from the bathroom for one last trip before they left.  She grabbed her handbag, glad the stakeout was all but over.
            “I know. And, in principle, I don’t think people should cheat on their spouses, but….” Trixie pulled a face, and Honey smiled sympathetically. 
            “You never know the full story.”
            “Something like that. They looked as if they really cared about one another, and she’s certainly not after his money. And before she went in, she almost looked scared.”
            “Well, I can run a check on our client before we hand this over to Ben, if you like.”
            “What if he caught you?” Trixie always liked it when her friend pushed boundaries, but knew it wasn’t in Honey’s nature to challenge the rules.
            “I’ll just tell him I’m being thorough. I trust your instincts, Trix, and so does Ben, though he might not admit it.””
            Trixie sighed in relief. “Good. I’ll pay our bill, if you want to get going now. I’m tired and looking forward to getting home and sleeping for about a million hours.” She led the way to the counter and Honey stood by while she counted out the money for their food.
            “Trix, can you drop me off at Brian’s?”
            “At Brian’s?”
            “I called him from out back, and he’s home, so we thought we might have a nightcap.”
            “And he’ll take you back to your car at the office?”
            Honey nodded.
            “Okay, do you want me to come in and give him a nudge about marriage?”
            “No thanks!” Honey shook her head decidedly.
            “Let me know if you change your mind. You have no idea what you’re missing out on.”
 
 
            “I’m not sure hot chocolate qualifies as a nightcap,” Brian observed, his dark eyes glinting.
            “It’s what I felt like,” Honey defended her choice and held out her hand to him.
            “You’re lucky I don’t spill it.”
            “Not, Brian Belden, he of the steady hand.” Honey smiled up at him. “I trust you completely.”
            “That was your first mistake,” Brian said with a laugh, setting the two cups on the nightstand.
            “Now,” Honey chided. “I’m cold, and I want my hot chocolate and my man.”
            Grinning, Brian slid into bed beside her. “I am so glad your folks had a last-minute trip out of town.”
            “Me, too,” she agreed, leaning over and brushing his lips with a kiss.
            “Drink your hot chocolate,” he said, after allowing his hand to run over her bare thigh. “Or it will get cold.”
            “I’m going to do just that.” Honey wiggled against the pillows and reached for her drink. “And then you can keep me warm.”
            “I can definitely do that.”      
 
            “I love a cooked breakfast,” Honey said happily, as the next morning she tucked into scrambled eggs and bacon.
            “I’m pretty sure the Manor House provides them on regular basis,” Brian said with a grin as he dropped down into the chair opposite.
            “Yours are the most delicious and the entrée beforehand is spectacular.”
            “I admit I hope this is the only place you’re getting that.” Brian poured them both some coffee.
            “Probably,” Honey said, hazel eyes twinkling.
            “Tease,” he said, leaning across the narrow table to kiss her.  Caught in the moment, Honey’s cup tilted, spilling coffee into her lap.
            “Oh, no. Look at that.” Honey stared at the stain on her pale gray skirt in dismay.
            “Did you burn yourself?” Brian was around the table in a flash.
            “No, but what an awful stain. I can’t go to work like this.”
            “I’m guessing it won’t just wash off?” Brian asked.
            “No. I’ll need to send it to the cleaners. How clumsy of me.”
            “Well, you can wear the skirt you wore yesterday, can’t you?”
            “It won’t go as well with my blouse,” Honey said. “But it will have to do, I guess. Lucky it’s virtually crease proof. I really should leave more clothes here.”
            “As many as you want.” Brian bent down and brushed her lips with a kiss.
            “You don’t have that big a closet,” she said laughingly and hurried off to change.
 
 
            “That is the same skirt you wore yesterday. A different blouse, but the same skirt.” Trixie’s blue eyes narrowed.
            “Someone call Harper’s Bazaar!” Honey returned waspishly.
            “Whosie, whatsit?” Trixie frowned.
            “Never mind,” Honey sighed. Her friend was one of the most observant, instinctive and alert people she’d ever known, but there were some things Trixie remained blind to. “Anyway, so what if I’m wearing the same skirt. It’s perfectly fine.”
            “Sure it is,” Trixie agreed. “But you’re you and you usually wear a different outfit each day. I mean not every single day forever, cause even for you that would be excessive, but most weeks you wear something different each day.”
            “I’m surprised you noticed.”
            “I am a detective,” Trixie retorted. “Sort of.”
“No sort of about it!” Honey scolded. “You are totally a detective.”
“Thanks.” Trixie lifted her brows. “So, what gives with the skirt? Don’t tell me you fell asleep on Brian’s sofa? What would people say?”
Honey gulped and took a deep breath.  She knew what she should say, but…“Not on his sofa, no.”
“Then where….” Trixie trailed off. “Are you telling me you spent the night with Brian? Like a sleepover?”
“Yes, of course that’s what I’m telling you.” Honey huffed. Having revealed her secret, she expected a more immediate response.
“Okay,” Trixie said slowly, studying her friend carefully. “And are you also telling me it’s not the first time?”
“Yes,” Honey breathed in relief.
“How long? I mean when did it start?”
“We are in love, and you know we’re going to get married,” Honey said, choosing not to answer directly.
“I know that,” Trixie said. “Give me a minute here. I just wasn’t expecting my oh-so-upright oldest brother and my elegant very best friend to be…flouting convention.”
“Convention isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“You won’t get an argument from me on that one.” Trixie’s blue eyes blinked several times, and she got up from her desk, moved through to the kitchenette, refilled her coffee cup and returned to her former position. “And we’re back to when did all this start?”
“About seven months ago,” Honey replied.
“Seven months! Seven months!” Trixie gulped some coffee. “I’ve been married for seven months and all that time...you’ve been living in…sin.”
            “Visiting in sin,” Honey corrected properly. “I don’t live there. That’s the point.”
            Trixie made a face. “You sleep there sometimes, which I’m guessing your folks would consider the point.”
            “You’re probably right, but I’m a grown woman and times are changing. Brian and I love one another. I don’t happen to think we’re doing anything wrong.” Honey folded her arms across her chest.
            “Then why hide it?” Trixie demanded with her customary bluntness.
            “I didn’t want to be judged.” Honey spoke softly. “And I especially didn’t want Brian to be judged. And he was worried about me being judged. It’s a lot about judging.”
            “Is that how you thought we’d react?” Trixie looked hurt.
            “I don’t know,” Honey admitted. “I can’t imagine Jim will jump for joy.”
            “Maybe not,” Trixie allowed.  “But he loves you and Brian’s his best friend—he’d come around.”
            “We didn’t plan on keeping it a secret,” Honey said. “We didn’t plan it at all. It just happened, and it feels so right that we didn’t want to stop.”
            “Well, that part I do understand.” Trixie met her friend’s imploring gaze and they both smiled.
            “I did want to tell you. But I didn’t want to disappoint you.” Honey sipped her own coffee appreciatively. “But you and Jim just kept talking about glad you were you’d gotten married and how wonderful marriage was and how everyone who loved one another should be married and about commitment and…”
            “Really?” Trixie made a face. “We sound sickening. Why didn’t you slap us?”
            Honey laughed.  “I love you, and I’m happy for you. Why would I slap you?”
            “If I’m always blithering on like that, you might want to consider it. I hate the idea that I made you feel as if you could ever disappoint me.”
            “It’s not what you expected though, is it?”
            Trixie waited a moment before replying. “No, it isn’t, but I get it, Honey, of course I do. You and Brian have been in love for years, it kind of makes perfect sense.”
            Honey laughed at this. “I wish I could be sure everyone would react the way you have.”
            Her best friend shrugged. “I don’t see why they shouldn’t, but you probably would get a mixed reaction, I guess.  Now that I know, the main thing I’m thinking is…how could I have missed it? Even yesterday when Brian dropped off clothes for you, I didn’t think how or why? I mean I didn’t really think about it at all, but in the back of my mind I probably thought he picked up dry cleaning or he was out at the farm and ran up to the Manor House for them, but I didn’t even consider the obvious.”
            “Why should you?” Honey demanded. “You have far more important things to think about.”
            “Still…” Trixie looked thoughtful. “I suppose you want to keep this between us?”
            Honey drew in her breath and expelled it slowly. “I want you to do what feels right. Jim’s your husband and if you need to tell him, I do understand. I kind of wish he knew anyway, and so does Brian. I’d prefer not to announce it at the next Bob-White get together, though.”
             “It would stop Mart in his tracks, that’s for sure, but I think I can promise on that one. As for Jim, I’ll just see how it feels.”
            “Deal,” Honey said.
            “I do know you’re in safe hands with my brother.  Does he care that you’re a bed hog?”
            “Not at all,” Honey sniffed.  “He loves sleeping with me, and I always sleep better when I sleep with Brian.”
            “Too much sharing,” Trixie exclaimed, holding up her hands.
            “Fine. Let’s get to work.”
 
Working for the Man
 
            Trixie knew that Honey was right about Ben, at least in a way.  Neither of them was old enough to get a P.I. licence, even if anyone was open-minded enough to hire female detectives.  And for the most part, he let them have their head, too. But still…It was hard always publicly deferring to him and, as much as it pained her to admit it, she hated watching him take credit for her and Honey’s work. That feeling of resentment surprised her.  Over the years, she’d often been uncomfortable when people praised her or wanted to thank her for solving mysteries. And, Honey, she knew, felt similarly.  But she’d worked so hard at college to get good grades. She was not a natural student like her brother Brian, and it had taken a lot of sweat and tears to do as well as she had. Now, all of that work seemed to have been pushed aside.  Clients treated her as lackey and sometimes turned to Ben for confirmation when she made a suggestion or offered information. She knew it shouldn’t matter, but it did.
            When Ben’s parents had first offered to set their son up in a small agency, she’d railed to anyone who would listen. How could Benjamin Riker just waltz on in and steal her and Honey’s dream?
            Mysteries were a game to Ben—like everything else.  Of course, it didn’t make it any easier that she knew she only had herself to blame. The counterfeiters of their childhood had been Ben’s first real encounter with her and Honey’s tendency to get involved with shady characters and goings on. Trixie wisely set aside the memory of Mr. Maypenny. Ben found that whole thing hilarious.  But the counterfeiting ring had garnered his interest, and a sort of grudging respect. And then, when they were in college, Ben had somehow become entangled in a couple more of their cases. And because his family had connections all over the place he managed to get himself into a renowned investigative firm.
            Trixie knew that he hadn’t really done anything of note, but he’d paid attention and picked up the lingo and managed to convince his parents that this was the direction he’d been searching for.  With his father owning one of New York’s most prestigious insurance agencies, work was pretty much guaranteed.  The real surprise had come when he’d approached her and Honey about coming to work for him.
            Putting these thoughts aside and reminding herself that she was at least on the path to her dream, she tucked the folder filled with surveillance photos and knocked on Ben’s door.  Once inside his office, she handed the folder to him and took a seat in the corner of the room.
            Ben thanked her and held the folder out to the middle-aged man who sat in the leather chair on the other side of Ben’s desk.
            “I think you’ll agree that we have what you need,” Ben said as the man leafed through the contents.
            The man nodded grimly. “These were more than I expected, if I’m honest. Good work, Riker.”
            “Thank you,” Ben said. “But I do owe some of our success to my staff. “
            That was just like him, Trixie thought. Just when she was ready to poison his coffee—an inclination that probably led to Honey insisting on being the one to make it—he did or said something like this. He actually meant it, too.  But the man opposite him merely smiled.
            “They’re good girls, I can see that, Riker.  And making themselves useful before settling down. Easy on the eye, too.”
            Trixie’s poisoning inclinations immediately shifted focus. She opened her mouth, but caught Ben’s eye and clamped her lips together. There was a reason why it was usually Honey who sat in on meetings with clients.
            “These really are good shots, Riker—just what I needed. The last guy handed me a bunch of useless pics—blurry as all heck. You’ve got a good eye.”
            Trixie did her best not to leap out of her chair and smack the man in the head.
            “Well, Riker Investigations uses all the latest equipment and tools on our cases,” Ben said, swiftly. “And Miss Belden is an excellent photographer.”
            There he goes again, Trixie thought.
            “I hope you appreciate your boss’s generosity, young lady,” their client said with a sage nod of his head.
“You betcha,” Trixie returned with a bright smile.
“You know, I could do with a cup of coffee.” The man gave Trixie a bright smile of his own.
“I’ll just call Miss Wheeler,” Ben said hastily.
“I’ve got it.” Trixie stood and managed, just, not to curtsey.
“Black with plenty of the white stuff. I like mine sweet.”
“Lots of white stuff,” Trixie confirmed. “That I can do.”
She turned and left the office, knowing from the glimpse that she’d had of Ben’s face that he might have inherited a tiny bit of Honey’s mind-reading skills.  After all, he knew that poisoning a rat was a completely reasonable course of action.
 
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Authors' Notes: My fourth Jixaversary! That can't be right. Thank you to everyone who has ever taken the time to read my scribblings.
​ Quite some time ago a prompt inspired this initial snippet. So, what if the timeline was true? Trixie and Honey meet in 1948, both aged thirteen. Nine years later, they've both just graduated from college and have secured jobs. But not exactly dream jobs— at least not on the surface anyway.
My gratitude goes to two wonderful women—editors and friends: Dana and Vivian. They make me so much more user friendly.

In this universe I can so see Lauren Bacall as Honey and Jean Arthur as Trixie. Oh, and Gregory Peck (my classic Brian) as Brian, and Jimmy Stewart as Jim. Jean and Jimmy are really from a slightly earlier time, but considering the respect for time in Trixie generally, I'm giving myself some leeway. Trixie Belden et al belong, at least technically, to Random House, not to me. No profit is being made from these scribblings.

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