Chapter Five: Questions and Liaisons
Neither of the other people living on Honey’s floor were home, so the two headed up to the top level of the complex. A woman in her fifties answered their knock and nodded pleasantly when she saw Honey. She hadn’t seen or heard anything unusual but promised to keep her eyes open. As they were about to knock on the next door, Trixie’s cell rang.
“It’s Mart,” she said. “I’ll be with you in a second.”
Knowing her friend all too well, Honey waited for her to finish the call, moving to stand at the landing window. With just two apartments, the top floor was the only one to have a window on either end of its landing and Honey moved from one, where she could see the front entrance, to the other where the parking lot was visible. When Trixie finished her call, she came to join her friend.
“Before we go any further,” she said, “tell me about a guy, a few years younger than us, slight build, brown hair.”
“Do you mean Brett?” Honey said, looking puzzled. “He lives on the ground floor. Why are you asking about him?”
“Di mentioned to Mart that he seemed kind of…creepy?” Trixie made the last word a question.
“What? No, he’s kind of shy and I get the feeling he doesn’t get out a lot, but I wouldn’t call him creepy.” Honey’s brow furrowed as if she were considering the possibility.
“Well, I think I’ll judge for myself, if you don’t mind.”
“When have I ever been able to stop you from doing that?” Honey asked quite reasonably.
Trixie wrinkled her nose and crossed the landing to knock on the other door.
Fifteen minutes later they had worked their way down to the ground floor. Trixie pressed the buzzer on the apartment that Honey identified as Brett’s. She recognized him from the description Mart had relayed but would have described him as scrawny rather than slight. He peered at her, eyes narrowed, then caught sight of Honey, who was standing to one side and behind her friend.
“Oh, hi, Miss Wheeler. Do you need something?”
“Actually,” Trixie said swiftly, “we were wondering, well, Honey was wondering really, whether you know of any new tenants or visitors who might be having a hard time finding their way to their apartment.”
The young man looked from one woman to the other. “Gee, I don’t think there are any new tenants and I haven’t noticed a lot of visitors lately. Well, except, Mr. Belden. He’s here for a couple of days, but I guess you know that.”
“Yes, we know that,” Trixie confirmed. “But how do you know it, Brett?” She smiled as she spoke, and the worried look in his eyes subsided.
“I saw him come in with Miss Wheeler yesterday, and I spoke to him this morning when he left.”
“You really can call us Honey and Brian,” Honey said, more conscious than usual of the formal address.
“Oh sure. He said that too. Anyway, I don’t remember seeing any strangers lately. Why do you ask?”
It was a reasonable question under the circumstances, but Trixie shot Honey a quick look of warning when she opened her mouth to reply.
“Oh, you know,” Trixie said airily. “People come, people go. Security isn’t that great around here, is it?”
Brett shrugged his narrow shoulders. “I guess.”
“Anyway, thanks for your help.” Trixie nodded and, tucking her hand through Honey’s arm, led her friend back up the stairs.
“Why did you stop me from telling him about what’s happening?”
“I was looking to get information, not give it,” Trixie said. “Besides, whatever’s going on or not going on, I don’t see how whoever it is can know whether or not it’s working unless you tell them, and I don’t want to do that.”
Honey stopped mid-stair. “But they do know, because I always put a light on when the knocking wakes me, and I know you can see the light through that small window over the door.”
Trixie pulled on her friend’s arm. “Hurry up. We can continue this in your apartment. Your best friend needs the bathroom.”
Honey giggled as they raced up the last few stairs and her friend ran for the bathroom before she even had the chance to pull her key out of the door.
When Trixie returned, she dropped back onto the sofa. What kind of best friend are you?” she demanded. “Where’s my reviving snack and beverage?”
“I do apologize.” Honey gave her a mock bow. “What does your highness desire?”
“Strawberry milk and a cheese sandwich,” Trixie pronounced. “And don’t even mention the fact that it’s almost lunchtime.”
“I wouldn’t dare.” Honey crossed the room to the kitchen, which was connected to the living space by a peninsula bench. She poured milk, adding strawberry syrup (purchased especially in response to Trixie’s sudden but ongoing penchant for strawberry milk) and quickly made a couple of cheese and mayo sandwiches. She knew she’d never hear the end of it if she just sat and watched her friend eat.
“So,” she said, joining Trixie on the sofa, “any weird vibes off my neighbors?”
Trixie shrugged. “I agree with Di that Brett is a little creepy, but I don’t get dangerous or crazy, just kind of awkward. We’ll have to make another round to get those people who weren’t home.”
“You really think this is more than a prank, don’t you?”
“I know I don’t have any hard evidence of that, but my instinct says, yes. The door knocking and the phone hang ups and the possible break in at the office…”
“The hang ups have been on my cell and at the office, not on my home phone though, so…”
“So?’
“It does point towards a professional gripe rather than a personal one?”
Trixie took another slurp of her milk and bite of her sandwich before responding. “Like I said earlier, I have a hard time imagining you upsetting anyone in your personal life. You’re just too nice.”
“Why do people always make that sound like a bad thing?”
“They don’t. You’re just sensitive about it.”
“Are you almost done?” Honey asked, changing the subject. “I thought I’d call Brian and let him know I’m ready for our date.”
“Go ahead. Of course, you might have a hard time getting him away from your brother and his best friend.”
Honey tossed her golden hair and smiled. “Just watch me.”
*
“I’m glad we decided on having lunch here.” Brian leaned back in the sun lounge and watched the sunlight that filtered through the overhanging trees as it played upon the lake water. “Although I guess we are at risk of being joined by one of our nearest and dearest.”
“Not a chance,” Honey said firmly. “I’ve left strict instructions.”
“Good.” He leaned over to brush her cheek with a kiss. “Not that I don’t love my family and friends, but I want some time alone with my woman.”
“You got it. Now, I’m going to set the food out.”
A few minutes later the two were sitting side by side at the rustic-style table on the boathouse porch. A platter of fried chicken took pride of place and was surrounded by bowls of potato and green salad and crusty bread.
“This looks great,” Brian said.
“Would it make you mad if I confessed I asked Miss Trask to organize it with Emily? Because Trixie and I were working this morning I knew I wouldn’t have time to do it myself, and I got it into my head that I wanted a nostalgic lunch.”
“I love it. And it does remind me of all those times we ate down here. Do you remember Mart’s and my first Manor House party? Mart could not believe that anyone could improve on Moms’ fried chicken. He was in heaven.”
“Well, the cook has changed several times, but Mother and Dad love Emily, and she and Miss Trask get on really well, too.”
Brian picked up a leg of chicken and bit into it. “If this is anything to go by, I’m looking forward to more of Emily’s cooking.”
Honey nodded. “I don’t think I could ever give up fried chicken.”
Brian gave his girlfriend’s slender form an appraising glance. “Doesn’t look to me as if you’ll have to worry about that.”
“Is that your medical opinion, Doctor Belden?”
“For a formal opinion I might need to make a closer examination.” He dropped a strong hand on one of her slender legs, slipping it under the hem of her knee-length skirt.
“Is this how you examine all of your patients?”
“They don’t usually ply me with food,” Brian admitted.
“You know that old cliché about the way to a man’s heart, don’t you?”
“You’ve got mine without any outside inducements.”
“Eat your lunch,” Honey said, blushing.
“Fine. Tell me about your morning.”
While they ate, Honey duly filled him in on her and Trixie’s visits at the apartment. “So,” she finished, “we don’t really know anything new. And for the rest of today, I’d like to think about something else.”
“Fine. How about a swim? It’s pretty warm now.”
Honey frowned. “We don’t have any suits down here. A while ago Di found a spider in hers, and we all decided that leaving them here was not a good idea.”
Brian stood and stretched his long arms over his head. “Well, according to you, we’ve been promised some privacy.”
Honey looked up at him, shading her eyes from the sun. “What are you suggesting, Brian Belden?”
“I’m suggesting that it’s just the two of us down here and it’s a warm summer’s day and I’d like to cool off.” He pulled his t-shirt over his head as he spoke and snapped the button of his jeans.
“I am not skinny dipping with you in our lake in the middle of the afternoon,” Honey said, knowing she was blushing again.
“What does the time of day have to do with anything?” Brian asked as he unzipped and stepped put of his jeans.
“It’s…it’s,” Honey stammered. He looked so good, standing before her. “You shouldn’t go swimming yet. It’s not that long since we ate.”
Brian grinned at her and slowly removed his boxers. “Guess it’s just as well you’re the best swimmer I know then. I get the feeling you’re going to have to jump in and rescue me.” He turned around in a complete circle, giving her a full view and then ran and dove into the lake.
He’s so damn beautiful, Honey thought, watching him. And this Brian was a long way from the boy she’d met all those years ago. It was hard to imagine a teenage Brian stripping naked and swimming in the lake.
“Oh, I’m feeling sort of weak and funny,” he yelled. “I think I might need mouth to mouth.” He started flailing in the water, but his gaze never left her.
“You’re impossible,” Honey said, getting to her feet.
“Holp, holp,” Brian cried. “I’m drownding!”
“I’m not skinny dipping,” she repeated.
“I’ll take what I can get,” Brian returned.
With a shrug Honey removed her skirt and top and stood in her matching pale blue lace bra and panties.
“Nice, very nice,” Brian said approvingly. “Now get in here before the man you love succumbs to the elements.”
Honey made a face but ran down the little pier and did a beautiful dive into the water. She swam to him and he pulled her into his arms, lifting her out of the water. “That is so not waterproof underwear,” he teased.
“I thought you needed my help,” she said.
“Oh, I do. You can start mouth to mouth right away, Miss Wheeler, I think I’m starting to lose consciousness.”
“Well, we can’t have that.” Honey wound her arms around his neck and covered his mouth with her own. It really was good to have him home.
By the time the two returned to Honey’s apartment the afternoon had clouded over but was still warm.
“We have plenty of time to laze about before we go to Trixie and Jim’s for dinner,” Honey said.
“That’s what you want to do for next few hours, laze about?” Brian teased as he held open to the door to the stairwell.
“Among other things. You’re very…energetic today.”
“Miss Wheeler?”
The two spun around to see Brett, the young man from earlier that morning, standing behind them.
“Hello, Brett,” Honey said politely, hoping he hadn’t heard their conversation.
“I remembered something,” he said. “About someone new being around the building.”
“What?” Brian said. “Who? Where are they?” He caught the look on Honey’s face. “I’ll leave this to you.”
“What did you remember, Brett?”
“You know Ms. Cardelini? She lives in seven on the top floor.”
“Of course.” Honey did not know the woman, who was in her forties, well, but she did know she was a single mother with a fifteen-year-old son. They exchanged greetings and pleasantries, but little more.
“Well, she did have her nephew, I think it was, staying here for a couple of weeks. You remember him. He was always fooling around on a skateboard. He was around seventeen, eighteen.”
“Right, I didn’t realize he was staying here. I’d forgotten about that,” Honey said. “Did?” She added.
“They’ve gone on vacation or something. The three of them took off late yesterday.”
“So talking to them is out of the question,” Brian said to Honey, a slight frown creasing his brow.
“Do you know how long they’ll be away?” Honey asked, making sure she did not sound too interested.
“I think she said two weeks, maybe.”
“Right. Well, thanks, Brett. That’s very helpful.”
The young man nodded. “You and Mrs. Frayne did seem curious this morning, so I wanted to tell you as soon as I could.”
“It’s appreciated.” Honey nodded and smiled, then, taking Brian’s hand in hers, led him up the stairs.
*
Trixie lifted the spoon from the large pan and held it out to her husband. “Sample,” she instructed.
Jim dutifully tested the stroganoff, and she regarded him expectantly. His brow puckered and she dipped the spoon back into the simmering mixture and held it out a second time. Jim swallowed.
“Have I forgotten something?” she demanded. “Is there too much garlic?”
“Maybe I should try one more time, just to be sure,” Jim suggested, a grin forming on his freckled face. The kitchen was a room where the two spent a lot of time. It was big with wooden cabinets and a huge stove where the couple took turns cooking.
“James Winthrop Frayne!” Trixie admonished him with a swat of the dish-towel she had draped over her shoulder. “You would tease your poor pregnant wife that way? You should be ashamed.”
“Me?” Jim raised his brows. “I am not the one using our unborn child to score points!”
“Mother’s privilege,” Trixie said with a wrinkle of her nose.
“About that...” Jim slid an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Am I right in suspecting that that privilege is going to shift and change in nature, depending upon any given situation?”
“Why, you are clever, aren’t you? Teaching is the perfect profession for you.”
“Why, thank you. Can I put it that on my advertising material?” Jim pulled her close and kissed the tip of her nose.
“If you keep doing that, I’ll volunteer to walk up and down Main Street wearing a sandwich board with that written on it.”
“You would, too, wouldn’t you?”
“Any kid will be lucky to attend The Frayne Academy.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence and, by the way, the stroganoff is delicious.”
“Good. Then I am going to go an make myself presentable for our guests.”
“Can I watch?”
“Can’t think of a way to stop you,” Trixie said, smiling, and together the two headed upstairs.
When Jim had finally settled on Ten Acres as the definite site for his school, he’d known he’d need to provide accommodation for himself and his family. Initially, he’d thought of a wing or floor in one of the school buildings, but his adopted mother had vetoed that idea. Madeleine Wheeler had talked about private space, the need for separation—the importance of leaving work and going home, and just the chance to have a family home where they could rest and grow. It hadn’t taken long for him to realize that she was right.
With his parents insisting on donating part of the preserve for exclusive use of the school, and access wherever else he needed it, he had plenty of space at Ten Acres to create a suitably sized school and build a house for Trixie and him to call home. The end result was a simple two-story farmhouse with verandas front and back and a gabled roof. Although he’d had it professionally built, he and all of the Bob-Whites, even Brian when he could get home, had helped work on the house, and the love—inside and out—showed.
Setting the table in the family room, where there were windows on three sides, Jim reflected on what a great spot they’d picked for their home. From this room they could see across the back of Crabapple Farm and over to the Manor House. French doors led to the wide rear veranda where comfortable outdoor furniture provided the perfect spot for a morning coffee or an afternoon read.
It was also just right for a pre-dinner drink, and twenty minutes later, after Honey and Brian had arrived, the four were sitting outside, sipping cool drinks and eating salted cashews.
“The main school building is coming along great, Jim,” Brian said. “You’ll be opening those doors before you know it.”
“Still have a way to go yet,” Jim replied. “But finally, I’m beginning to believe that my dream school is going to be a reality.”
“You’ve worked so hard for it,” Honey said proudly. “All that study and the courses in administration and committees, not courses in committee but being on committees, and teaching in and visiting all those other schools and going to education conferences and—” She broke off when she realized the other three were all regarding her with amusement. “What?”
“You know, if I ever, in some whacked-out universe, win an award for anything or have to get a big intro some time, I think I have the girl for the job,” Jim joked.
“I’m allowed to be proud of my brother,” Honey protested.
“I think it’s cute,” Trixie said. “And it’s nice of you to remind Jim of all the things he’s been doing. Just in case he forgets.”
Honey poked her tongue out. “Fine. From now on, I’ll just say if anyone asks me— Jim—he just hangs around not doing anything. Would that make you all happy?”
“It would make us all laugh,” Brian said, dark eyes twinkling.
“Or suspect you’d been abducted and replaced by a mysterious double,” Trixie offered.
“Sometimes I wonder why I love you all so much.” Honey took another sip of her white wine and leaned back in her chair.
“I wonder that too,” Brian said. “But I sure am glad you do.”
“So, did Honey fill you in on our morning?” Trixie asker her brother.
Brian nodded. “And on that note we have a little something for you, don’t we, Honey?”
“Right. Yes, we do. When we got home this afternoon, Brett came out to speak to us, and he remembered that one of our neighbors has had someone staying with her for a couple of weeks—a teenage boy, around seventeen or eighteen. And, according to Brett, he’s seen him around a couple of times late at night and early in the morning.”
“Don’t you think it’s funny that we think of kids that age as kids but when we were that age, we were so sure we were adults?” Jim wondered.
“I know,” Brian agreed and broke off when his sister kicked his ankle.
“We were talking about the door knocker. Do you have go off on a tangent?”
“Ouch. Why don’t you kick your husband instead of me? He went off on a tangent first.”
“That’s a good point. However, to get back to the matter at hand, did you talk to this teenager?”
“No, apparently the family has gone on vacation. But if it is him, was him, then it will stop, right?” Honey said hopefully.
“If it is,” Trixie conceded.
“Well, there was no trouble last night, so that’s a good sign,” Brian said, and Honey and Jim both nodded their heads.
Trixie wasn’t so sure. Maybe this was the explanation they were looking for and maybe it wasn’t. They would just have to wait and see.
MPD:MAIN NEXT
Word Count: 3460
Author's Notes: Many thanks to my terrific editor, Dana. She puts up with a lot—including correcting mistakes I should no longer be making. Reamianing glitches and problems are all mine. Trixie Belden et al belong to Random House, not to me. No profit is being made from these scribblings.
“It’s Mart,” she said. “I’ll be with you in a second.”
Knowing her friend all too well, Honey waited for her to finish the call, moving to stand at the landing window. With just two apartments, the top floor was the only one to have a window on either end of its landing and Honey moved from one, where she could see the front entrance, to the other where the parking lot was visible. When Trixie finished her call, she came to join her friend.
“Before we go any further,” she said, “tell me about a guy, a few years younger than us, slight build, brown hair.”
“Do you mean Brett?” Honey said, looking puzzled. “He lives on the ground floor. Why are you asking about him?”
“Di mentioned to Mart that he seemed kind of…creepy?” Trixie made the last word a question.
“What? No, he’s kind of shy and I get the feeling he doesn’t get out a lot, but I wouldn’t call him creepy.” Honey’s brow furrowed as if she were considering the possibility.
“Well, I think I’ll judge for myself, if you don’t mind.”
“When have I ever been able to stop you from doing that?” Honey asked quite reasonably.
Trixie wrinkled her nose and crossed the landing to knock on the other door.
Fifteen minutes later they had worked their way down to the ground floor. Trixie pressed the buzzer on the apartment that Honey identified as Brett’s. She recognized him from the description Mart had relayed but would have described him as scrawny rather than slight. He peered at her, eyes narrowed, then caught sight of Honey, who was standing to one side and behind her friend.
“Oh, hi, Miss Wheeler. Do you need something?”
“Actually,” Trixie said swiftly, “we were wondering, well, Honey was wondering really, whether you know of any new tenants or visitors who might be having a hard time finding their way to their apartment.”
The young man looked from one woman to the other. “Gee, I don’t think there are any new tenants and I haven’t noticed a lot of visitors lately. Well, except, Mr. Belden. He’s here for a couple of days, but I guess you know that.”
“Yes, we know that,” Trixie confirmed. “But how do you know it, Brett?” She smiled as she spoke, and the worried look in his eyes subsided.
“I saw him come in with Miss Wheeler yesterday, and I spoke to him this morning when he left.”
“You really can call us Honey and Brian,” Honey said, more conscious than usual of the formal address.
“Oh sure. He said that too. Anyway, I don’t remember seeing any strangers lately. Why do you ask?”
It was a reasonable question under the circumstances, but Trixie shot Honey a quick look of warning when she opened her mouth to reply.
“Oh, you know,” Trixie said airily. “People come, people go. Security isn’t that great around here, is it?”
Brett shrugged his narrow shoulders. “I guess.”
“Anyway, thanks for your help.” Trixie nodded and, tucking her hand through Honey’s arm, led her friend back up the stairs.
“Why did you stop me from telling him about what’s happening?”
“I was looking to get information, not give it,” Trixie said. “Besides, whatever’s going on or not going on, I don’t see how whoever it is can know whether or not it’s working unless you tell them, and I don’t want to do that.”
Honey stopped mid-stair. “But they do know, because I always put a light on when the knocking wakes me, and I know you can see the light through that small window over the door.”
Trixie pulled on her friend’s arm. “Hurry up. We can continue this in your apartment. Your best friend needs the bathroom.”
Honey giggled as they raced up the last few stairs and her friend ran for the bathroom before she even had the chance to pull her key out of the door.
When Trixie returned, she dropped back onto the sofa. What kind of best friend are you?” she demanded. “Where’s my reviving snack and beverage?”
“I do apologize.” Honey gave her a mock bow. “What does your highness desire?”
“Strawberry milk and a cheese sandwich,” Trixie pronounced. “And don’t even mention the fact that it’s almost lunchtime.”
“I wouldn’t dare.” Honey crossed the room to the kitchen, which was connected to the living space by a peninsula bench. She poured milk, adding strawberry syrup (purchased especially in response to Trixie’s sudden but ongoing penchant for strawberry milk) and quickly made a couple of cheese and mayo sandwiches. She knew she’d never hear the end of it if she just sat and watched her friend eat.
“So,” she said, joining Trixie on the sofa, “any weird vibes off my neighbors?”
Trixie shrugged. “I agree with Di that Brett is a little creepy, but I don’t get dangerous or crazy, just kind of awkward. We’ll have to make another round to get those people who weren’t home.”
“You really think this is more than a prank, don’t you?”
“I know I don’t have any hard evidence of that, but my instinct says, yes. The door knocking and the phone hang ups and the possible break in at the office…”
“The hang ups have been on my cell and at the office, not on my home phone though, so…”
“So?’
“It does point towards a professional gripe rather than a personal one?”
Trixie took another slurp of her milk and bite of her sandwich before responding. “Like I said earlier, I have a hard time imagining you upsetting anyone in your personal life. You’re just too nice.”
“Why do people always make that sound like a bad thing?”
“They don’t. You’re just sensitive about it.”
“Are you almost done?” Honey asked, changing the subject. “I thought I’d call Brian and let him know I’m ready for our date.”
“Go ahead. Of course, you might have a hard time getting him away from your brother and his best friend.”
Honey tossed her golden hair and smiled. “Just watch me.”
*
“I’m glad we decided on having lunch here.” Brian leaned back in the sun lounge and watched the sunlight that filtered through the overhanging trees as it played upon the lake water. “Although I guess we are at risk of being joined by one of our nearest and dearest.”
“Not a chance,” Honey said firmly. “I’ve left strict instructions.”
“Good.” He leaned over to brush her cheek with a kiss. “Not that I don’t love my family and friends, but I want some time alone with my woman.”
“You got it. Now, I’m going to set the food out.”
A few minutes later the two were sitting side by side at the rustic-style table on the boathouse porch. A platter of fried chicken took pride of place and was surrounded by bowls of potato and green salad and crusty bread.
“This looks great,” Brian said.
“Would it make you mad if I confessed I asked Miss Trask to organize it with Emily? Because Trixie and I were working this morning I knew I wouldn’t have time to do it myself, and I got it into my head that I wanted a nostalgic lunch.”
“I love it. And it does remind me of all those times we ate down here. Do you remember Mart’s and my first Manor House party? Mart could not believe that anyone could improve on Moms’ fried chicken. He was in heaven.”
“Well, the cook has changed several times, but Mother and Dad love Emily, and she and Miss Trask get on really well, too.”
Brian picked up a leg of chicken and bit into it. “If this is anything to go by, I’m looking forward to more of Emily’s cooking.”
Honey nodded. “I don’t think I could ever give up fried chicken.”
Brian gave his girlfriend’s slender form an appraising glance. “Doesn’t look to me as if you’ll have to worry about that.”
“Is that your medical opinion, Doctor Belden?”
“For a formal opinion I might need to make a closer examination.” He dropped a strong hand on one of her slender legs, slipping it under the hem of her knee-length skirt.
“Is this how you examine all of your patients?”
“They don’t usually ply me with food,” Brian admitted.
“You know that old cliché about the way to a man’s heart, don’t you?”
“You’ve got mine without any outside inducements.”
“Eat your lunch,” Honey said, blushing.
“Fine. Tell me about your morning.”
While they ate, Honey duly filled him in on her and Trixie’s visits at the apartment. “So,” she finished, “we don’t really know anything new. And for the rest of today, I’d like to think about something else.”
“Fine. How about a swim? It’s pretty warm now.”
Honey frowned. “We don’t have any suits down here. A while ago Di found a spider in hers, and we all decided that leaving them here was not a good idea.”
Brian stood and stretched his long arms over his head. “Well, according to you, we’ve been promised some privacy.”
Honey looked up at him, shading her eyes from the sun. “What are you suggesting, Brian Belden?”
“I’m suggesting that it’s just the two of us down here and it’s a warm summer’s day and I’d like to cool off.” He pulled his t-shirt over his head as he spoke and snapped the button of his jeans.
“I am not skinny dipping with you in our lake in the middle of the afternoon,” Honey said, knowing she was blushing again.
“What does the time of day have to do with anything?” Brian asked as he unzipped and stepped put of his jeans.
“It’s…it’s,” Honey stammered. He looked so good, standing before her. “You shouldn’t go swimming yet. It’s not that long since we ate.”
Brian grinned at her and slowly removed his boxers. “Guess it’s just as well you’re the best swimmer I know then. I get the feeling you’re going to have to jump in and rescue me.” He turned around in a complete circle, giving her a full view and then ran and dove into the lake.
He’s so damn beautiful, Honey thought, watching him. And this Brian was a long way from the boy she’d met all those years ago. It was hard to imagine a teenage Brian stripping naked and swimming in the lake.
“Oh, I’m feeling sort of weak and funny,” he yelled. “I think I might need mouth to mouth.” He started flailing in the water, but his gaze never left her.
“You’re impossible,” Honey said, getting to her feet.
“Holp, holp,” Brian cried. “I’m drownding!”
“I’m not skinny dipping,” she repeated.
“I’ll take what I can get,” Brian returned.
With a shrug Honey removed her skirt and top and stood in her matching pale blue lace bra and panties.
“Nice, very nice,” Brian said approvingly. “Now get in here before the man you love succumbs to the elements.”
Honey made a face but ran down the little pier and did a beautiful dive into the water. She swam to him and he pulled her into his arms, lifting her out of the water. “That is so not waterproof underwear,” he teased.
“I thought you needed my help,” she said.
“Oh, I do. You can start mouth to mouth right away, Miss Wheeler, I think I’m starting to lose consciousness.”
“Well, we can’t have that.” Honey wound her arms around his neck and covered his mouth with her own. It really was good to have him home.
By the time the two returned to Honey’s apartment the afternoon had clouded over but was still warm.
“We have plenty of time to laze about before we go to Trixie and Jim’s for dinner,” Honey said.
“That’s what you want to do for next few hours, laze about?” Brian teased as he held open to the door to the stairwell.
“Among other things. You’re very…energetic today.”
“Miss Wheeler?”
The two spun around to see Brett, the young man from earlier that morning, standing behind them.
“Hello, Brett,” Honey said politely, hoping he hadn’t heard their conversation.
“I remembered something,” he said. “About someone new being around the building.”
“What?” Brian said. “Who? Where are they?” He caught the look on Honey’s face. “I’ll leave this to you.”
“What did you remember, Brett?”
“You know Ms. Cardelini? She lives in seven on the top floor.”
“Of course.” Honey did not know the woman, who was in her forties, well, but she did know she was a single mother with a fifteen-year-old son. They exchanged greetings and pleasantries, but little more.
“Well, she did have her nephew, I think it was, staying here for a couple of weeks. You remember him. He was always fooling around on a skateboard. He was around seventeen, eighteen.”
“Right, I didn’t realize he was staying here. I’d forgotten about that,” Honey said. “Did?” She added.
“They’ve gone on vacation or something. The three of them took off late yesterday.”
“So talking to them is out of the question,” Brian said to Honey, a slight frown creasing his brow.
“Do you know how long they’ll be away?” Honey asked, making sure she did not sound too interested.
“I think she said two weeks, maybe.”
“Right. Well, thanks, Brett. That’s very helpful.”
The young man nodded. “You and Mrs. Frayne did seem curious this morning, so I wanted to tell you as soon as I could.”
“It’s appreciated.” Honey nodded and smiled, then, taking Brian’s hand in hers, led him up the stairs.
*
Trixie lifted the spoon from the large pan and held it out to her husband. “Sample,” she instructed.
Jim dutifully tested the stroganoff, and she regarded him expectantly. His brow puckered and she dipped the spoon back into the simmering mixture and held it out a second time. Jim swallowed.
“Have I forgotten something?” she demanded. “Is there too much garlic?”
“Maybe I should try one more time, just to be sure,” Jim suggested, a grin forming on his freckled face. The kitchen was a room where the two spent a lot of time. It was big with wooden cabinets and a huge stove where the couple took turns cooking.
“James Winthrop Frayne!” Trixie admonished him with a swat of the dish-towel she had draped over her shoulder. “You would tease your poor pregnant wife that way? You should be ashamed.”
“Me?” Jim raised his brows. “I am not the one using our unborn child to score points!”
“Mother’s privilege,” Trixie said with a wrinkle of her nose.
“About that...” Jim slid an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Am I right in suspecting that that privilege is going to shift and change in nature, depending upon any given situation?”
“Why, you are clever, aren’t you? Teaching is the perfect profession for you.”
“Why, thank you. Can I put it that on my advertising material?” Jim pulled her close and kissed the tip of her nose.
“If you keep doing that, I’ll volunteer to walk up and down Main Street wearing a sandwich board with that written on it.”
“You would, too, wouldn’t you?”
“Any kid will be lucky to attend The Frayne Academy.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence and, by the way, the stroganoff is delicious.”
“Good. Then I am going to go an make myself presentable for our guests.”
“Can I watch?”
“Can’t think of a way to stop you,” Trixie said, smiling, and together the two headed upstairs.
When Jim had finally settled on Ten Acres as the definite site for his school, he’d known he’d need to provide accommodation for himself and his family. Initially, he’d thought of a wing or floor in one of the school buildings, but his adopted mother had vetoed that idea. Madeleine Wheeler had talked about private space, the need for separation—the importance of leaving work and going home, and just the chance to have a family home where they could rest and grow. It hadn’t taken long for him to realize that she was right.
With his parents insisting on donating part of the preserve for exclusive use of the school, and access wherever else he needed it, he had plenty of space at Ten Acres to create a suitably sized school and build a house for Trixie and him to call home. The end result was a simple two-story farmhouse with verandas front and back and a gabled roof. Although he’d had it professionally built, he and all of the Bob-Whites, even Brian when he could get home, had helped work on the house, and the love—inside and out—showed.
Setting the table in the family room, where there were windows on three sides, Jim reflected on what a great spot they’d picked for their home. From this room they could see across the back of Crabapple Farm and over to the Manor House. French doors led to the wide rear veranda where comfortable outdoor furniture provided the perfect spot for a morning coffee or an afternoon read.
It was also just right for a pre-dinner drink, and twenty minutes later, after Honey and Brian had arrived, the four were sitting outside, sipping cool drinks and eating salted cashews.
“The main school building is coming along great, Jim,” Brian said. “You’ll be opening those doors before you know it.”
“Still have a way to go yet,” Jim replied. “But finally, I’m beginning to believe that my dream school is going to be a reality.”
“You’ve worked so hard for it,” Honey said proudly. “All that study and the courses in administration and committees, not courses in committee but being on committees, and teaching in and visiting all those other schools and going to education conferences and—” She broke off when she realized the other three were all regarding her with amusement. “What?”
“You know, if I ever, in some whacked-out universe, win an award for anything or have to get a big intro some time, I think I have the girl for the job,” Jim joked.
“I’m allowed to be proud of my brother,” Honey protested.
“I think it’s cute,” Trixie said. “And it’s nice of you to remind Jim of all the things he’s been doing. Just in case he forgets.”
Honey poked her tongue out. “Fine. From now on, I’ll just say if anyone asks me— Jim—he just hangs around not doing anything. Would that make you all happy?”
“It would make us all laugh,” Brian said, dark eyes twinkling.
“Or suspect you’d been abducted and replaced by a mysterious double,” Trixie offered.
“Sometimes I wonder why I love you all so much.” Honey took another sip of her white wine and leaned back in her chair.
“I wonder that too,” Brian said. “But I sure am glad you do.”
“So, did Honey fill you in on our morning?” Trixie asker her brother.
Brian nodded. “And on that note we have a little something for you, don’t we, Honey?”
“Right. Yes, we do. When we got home this afternoon, Brett came out to speak to us, and he remembered that one of our neighbors has had someone staying with her for a couple of weeks—a teenage boy, around seventeen or eighteen. And, according to Brett, he’s seen him around a couple of times late at night and early in the morning.”
“Don’t you think it’s funny that we think of kids that age as kids but when we were that age, we were so sure we were adults?” Jim wondered.
“I know,” Brian agreed and broke off when his sister kicked his ankle.
“We were talking about the door knocker. Do you have go off on a tangent?”
“Ouch. Why don’t you kick your husband instead of me? He went off on a tangent first.”
“That’s a good point. However, to get back to the matter at hand, did you talk to this teenager?”
“No, apparently the family has gone on vacation. But if it is him, was him, then it will stop, right?” Honey said hopefully.
“If it is,” Trixie conceded.
“Well, there was no trouble last night, so that’s a good sign,” Brian said, and Honey and Jim both nodded their heads.
Trixie wasn’t so sure. Maybe this was the explanation they were looking for and maybe it wasn’t. They would just have to wait and see.
MPD:MAIN NEXT
Word Count: 3460
Author's Notes: Many thanks to my terrific editor, Dana. She puts up with a lot—including correcting mistakes I should no longer be making. Reamianing glitches and problems are all mine. Trixie Belden et al belong to Random House, not to me. No profit is being made from these scribblings.
