Chapter Two: Trixie is Concerned

    It took several minutes before she could stop shaking. The fact that she had tried to open her door when a stranger was lurking outside was more troubling to her than she wanted to admit. She hadn’t stopped to retrieve her gun from the lock box, or grab any kind of weapon. She hadn’t even reached for her phone. What kind of investigator was she, anyway? She wished she could talk to Trixie, but it was two-twenty am and that was out of the question. She pulled her phone towards her and saw there was a text message from Brian. God, how she wished she could hear his voice. She typed a brief reply. Seconds later the phone rang.
    “What are you doing awake at this time of the morning?”
    His voice was at once warm, concerned and just the tiniest bit disapproving. She loved him for it.
    “Haven’t been sleeping all that well,” she replied, hoping she sounded normal.
    “Anything bothering you?”
    “No, not really.” She did not want to tell him about her early-morning caller—not over the telephone.
    “I wish I was there.”
    “Me too. I always sleep when I sleep with you.”
    “Hmm, I guess that means you can add soporific to my list of talents.”
    “You’d be surprised to know how important that can be.”
    “Actually, as you know, I’m a doctor and well aware of the importance of sleep to a person’s overall well being. Are you sure you’re okay?”
    Brian’s smarts had never ended with books. It was one of the reasons he made such a good doctor: he cared about the person as well as the problem, the sufferer as well as the symptoms.
    “I’m fine. Just tired and I miss you.”
    “That I can help with. If I can get a flight, I’ll be in Sleepyside some time tomorrow night. It might not be until late, I’m on a waiting list. It must be a popular weekend for traveling.”
    “Oh, Brian, that’s wonderful news that you can get the time off! I can’t wait to see you. I hope you can get a flight. We were hoping you’d be here in time for the party.”
    “I will do my best.”
    An overwhelming need to have him with her washed over her. “I don’t suppose…”
    “What?”
    Maybe it was the fatigue speaking or maybe she was still suffering the after effects of the face at the door. “Couldn’t I, just this once, get Daddy to send the plane for you? I know he doesn’t need it tomorrow.”
    There was a moment of silence and she wondered if she’d upset him. She and Brian had come a long way and both had learned to give as well as take, but Brian’s instincts still leaned towards independence.
    “Would that mean we could cut out of that party a little early go back to your apartment and…”
    “And…” she prodded, relieved at the tone of his voice.
    “And make sure you get a good nights rest alongside your sleep-inducing boyfriend.”
    “I think that could be arranged.”
    “Then count me in. I’m going to get a few hours sleep now and I suggest you do the same, young lady. Text me when you have some details.”
    “Okay. Brian?”
    “Yes?”
    “I love you.”
    “Love you too, Honey mine. See you tomorrow.”
    “They are the nicest words in the whole world, did you know that?”
    “You better get used to them. And see you later, see you soon—it won’t be long and you won’t be able to get rid of me for more than a few hours at a time.”
    “Can’t be soon enough for me.”
    “Go to bed.”   
    Back in her room, Honey reached over and after a moment’s hesitation switched off her alarm, set for six-thirty. If Brian was coming home the next day there was no way he was going to find her exhausted and unable to participate in whatever he had planned. If she overslept, she overslept and that was that.

                   

    That was close, the man thought as he ran down the stairs. He knew his heart was pounding and he wondered, just for a moment, if it were audible to anyone other than himself. To see her huge hazel eye staring at him from the other side of the door had been unnerving, intoxicating, satisfying. But in reality, distorted. He’d known what he was seeing, rather than actually seeing it. He usually cut out as soon as he saw the light come on in the apartment, but for some reason, he’d wanted to linger, wanted to wait, knowing she was stumbling to the door, rubbing the sleep from those expressive eyes. But when he’d heard her fumbling with the lock, he realized just how close he’d come to being exposed, and he didn’t want that. He wasn’t ready, not by a long shot.

                   

    “Should I be worried?” Trixie asked her husband, tucking the phone under her ear as she searched Honey’s desk looking for a note. She’d arrived at the office at nine, the time Honey had insisted on since finding out her friend was pregnant, and had been surprised not to find her partner there already. More often than not, Honey was the first to arrive, and up until recently, Trixie had been the last to leave. She knew nine wasn’t late, but normally Honey would have called or sent a text, so Trixie couldn’t help feeling a little apprehensive.
    “You did say she’d been sleeping badly lately. Maybe she’s just catching up on some shut eye,” Jim replied. “I can remember quite a few occasions when I had to rouse sleeping beauty from her slumber.” 
    “That’s true,” Trixie admitted. “I guess in the past few years I’ve gotten used to Honey being an early riser. And she almost always answers her phone.”
    “Give it another half an hour and if you haven’t heard, I can come in and go to the apartment with you.”
    “Don’t you have the architect and contractor on site this morning?” Work had started on Jim’s long-held dream for his school, and she knew today was the day when the next stage was supposed to get under way.
    “Sure I do. I’m about to go down there now. But Trix, you and Honey come before anything, you know that?”
    “Yes, I do, oh wait, I’ve had a message. I’ll check it and call you back.” She hung up and quickly checked her phone. Sorry, Trix— overslept, was in shower when you called. On my way, Honey. She quickly typed a text to Jim to let him know. Relieved, she headed to her office and got to work.

    The space she and Honey rented was located in a small strip of stores that included a café, a hair salon and an office supply shop. The low brick buildings varied in size with their agency being located in one of the smaller spaces, situated at one end. Because it was not large, originally they’d toyed with getting permission to take down walls and make one large open room with a small kitchen, bathroom and storeroom behind. But after some discussion they realized it suited their business better to keep the two separate offices and a very small entrance foyer. A lot of their work required sensitivity and discretion and having two spaces also meant they could handle more than one client at a time.
    Trixie had immediately requested the smaller office set further back from the entrance. She and Honey could both be a little chaotic at time, but Honey at least had draws and baskets for her clutter, whereas she was inclined to throw things into trays on top of her desk. Their arrangement worked for them, and it worked for their clients too as each woman instinctively took the lead on a case based on the client’s personality as well as their problem.
    Honey had handled the fit-out of the space. She had easy-to-clean floor tiles installed and, with Trixie and Diana’s help, painted all of the walls, including the exposed brick, a warm cream. The furniture, including desks, bookshelves and occasional tables, were all in a pale beech wood. Narrow matching wooden blinds were hung at the windows, ensuring they could have privacy or a clear view as needed. There were several small but comfortable chairs in the foyer, two similar chairs in Trixie’s office and a sofa and chair in Honey’s.
    The effect was professional, casual and welcoming, and even Diana gave it her stamp of approval, providing several prints for the walls to celebrate the agency’s opening. Every morning when she walked through the door, Trixie felt a sense of pride and gratitude for this very real answer to her teenage dream.
    She had been working for around twenty minutes when she heard the front door buzzer.
   
    “Hi, Trix, I’m here,” Honey called.
    Trixie looked up and her ready smile widened when she saw what her friend was carrying.
    “Decaf mochas and cherry danish,” Honey said, sinking down in the chair opposite her friend. “I figured I owed you.”
    Trixie snorted. “For being late once? Please.”
    “I was worried that I worried you. When I saw how late I’d slept, I went straight to the shower. I should have sent a message first.”
    “You shouldn’t be so reliable.”
    “Don’t you mean predictable?” Honey asked with a laugh.
    “Should I even ask why you overslept?” Trixie took a sip of her mocha and sighed— the coffee was delicious and she appreciated it, but she was pretty sure she knew the answer to her question—and she was not happy about it.
    Honey considered not telling her friend about yet another early morning visit but knew she couldn’t do it. They were partners as well as best friends. “Yeah, he, whoever was back again.”
    “And?” Trixie hadn’t chosen investigative work for nothing. She could see by Honey’s body language, the way she sat in the chair, that there was more to it this time.
    “I’m not sure if this means anything, but this time I waited a few seconds and took another look. There was a face pressed up against my door.”
    “What?” Trixie almost knocked her coffee over. “Are you kidding me, Hon? What did you do?”
    “I freaked a little,” Honey admitted. “Then I tried to open the door.”
    “You did what?”
    “I was half asleep. I was reacting, not thinking. Anyway, don’t look like that. I couldn’t get the bolts undone. Then I heard the stairwell door close, so whoever it was, they were gone. And I very sensibly stayed inside my apartment and did not pursue.”
    “Just as well,” Trixie frowned. “Honey, I really don’t like this.”
    “I’m not too happy about it myself.” Honey took another bite of her cherry danish. “But even if it’s not a mistake, it’s probably just someone fooling around. They don’t try to get in.”
    “I don’t think you should stay at the apartment for the next few weeks.”
    “Have you forgotten that my mother is having the entire Manor House painted and then half of the floors stripped and sanded? Or maybe it’s the other way around.”
    “You can stay with Jim and I or Di and Mart, she’s always saying she wants to see more of you and as for Moms, she would love to have you to fuss over.”
    “It’s nice to know I’m popular. However, as you well know, we have a number of evening meetings scheduled with clients in the next couple of weeks and it’s easier to do that here and secondly…Brian’s coming home after all, today and I really want us to have some alone time.”
    “Yippee,” Trixie shouted, momentarily distracted. “I haven’t seen him for ages. I guess you two finally managed to talk.”
    “We did. I spoke to him just after my sleepus interruptus.”
    “Pretty sure if Mart were here, he’d say you just made that up.”
    “Maybe. Anyway he’s flying home…oh…” Honey fumbled in her purse. “How dumb can I be?” She dialed and was soon talking to her father. A few minutes later she put her phone away. “Can you believe I finally get Brian to agree to use the company jet and almost forget to organize it?”
    Trixie laughed. “You sure had your please-Daddy-I’m-your-only-daughter-and- you-love-me voice on.”
    “Did I?” Honey wrinkled her nose.  “Oh, who cares? I’d do a whole lot more than that to get Brian home.  Luckily, Bob hadn’t called in yet to see if he was needed.”
    “You know I’ve never exactly understood how that works,” Trixie said. “Does he just get paid for flights? What does he do for the rest of the time?”
    Honey shook her golden head. “No, Bob’s on a retainer. Sometimes they have a schedule booked, but other times he just checks in in the morning and Dad lets him know if something’s come up.”
    “And if it hasn’t?”
    Honey shrugged. “He takes a day off. I know he gives free joy flights to some charities. He and mother organized that together.”
    “But he gets paid anyway?”
    “Well, you couldn’t expect him to be on standby five or six days a week and not get paid.”
    “I guess not. Still, it sounds like a pretty good job to me.”
    “I like a little more structure,” Honey admitted.
    “That’s probably why you’re so good at the reporting, analyzing part of what we do.”
    “And why you are a genius at piecing seemingly random bits of information together to solve a puzzle.”
    “And why neither one of is a big fan of stakeouts,” Trixie added with a rueful grin.
    “Is anyone a big fan of stakeouts?”
    “You might have a point. Hon?”
    “Yes?”
    “Did you tell Brian about what’s been going on?”
    “We didn’t talk for long,” Honey began. Her eyes met Trixie’s, and she gave a resigned shrug. “If it will make you feel better, I’ll tell him tonight. Though you know Brian, he will probably have a reasonable explanation for it.”
    “Maybe, maybe not. He has got smarter about mysteries over the years, and I know he worries about your safety. But it will make me feel better, and let’s face it, it’s your duty as my partner, my best friend and future aunt, to ensure that I have no extra worries in my world.”

    Reaching across the desk, Honey grabbed the now empty coffee cups and the brown bag danish wrapper. “You are going to milk this pregnancy for all it’s worth, aren’t you?”
    “That is a terrible accusation to make.” Trixie held her hand up against her chest and did her best to look wounded. “I thought you loved me.”
    “More than is good for me,” Honey said. “Now, when I get back, let’s actually do some work.”
    “Good idea. We have just over an hour before Kerry Williams comes in, so we should be able to go through what we did last night and put some cases to bed.”

    The two women worked diligently, recording details of the files they’d taken home and adding any necessary information into their database.
    “I’m guessing this one is a write-off,” Honey said, selecting one of the files Trixie had taken. “I can’t see Mark Connelly paying us anytime soon.”
    “No,” Trixie agreed. “Throwing rocks through our window maybe, but paying us, no.”
    “I’ll never really understand someone not paying for something they’ve taken,” Honey said. “Not unless they were starving and took food, or maybe freezing and stole a coat, or if the job they hired someone for wasn’t done properly.”
    “For someone who doesn’t understand, you’re not doing a bad job.” Trixie shook her head and smiled at her friend.            “Sometimes that empathy of yours needs to be dialed back a bit.”
    “Oh, give me a break,” Honey pleaded. “I’m not as naïve as I used to be.”
    “And I am not as suspicious. The guys are right, we really have rubbed off on one another.”
    “Something I am very glad about.”
    “Anyway,” Trixie said. “As he seems to have moved and changed his phone number, getting money out of him is going to be difficult.”
    Honey nodded. “You know, we tell people when they ask us to investigate that what we find out might not be what they expect, but sometimes…”
    “Yeah, well Mr. Connelly certainly made his feelings about our work clear.” Trixie took the file from her friend and attached a red flag to it, assigning it to a folder. “At least most of them don’t end up in the D&D,” she said.
    “Disgruntled and Default,” Honey quipped, mainly because she knew what would happen next.
    “Dangerous and deranged,” Trixie responded grinning.
    “Disappointed and dissatisfied,” Honey continued.
    “Desperate and deadly,” her partner finished triumphantly.
    “This is my last one,” Honey said laughing. “Thank goodness.”
    “Ooh, I’d forgotten about him,” Trixie said, wrinkling her nose.
    Honey didn’t need to ask to whom she was referring. “He paid his account and he didn’t actually do anything wrong.”
    “As I recall, he was not impressed when you kicked him to the curb.”
    “Trixie! We only went on a few dates. There was no curb kicking.”
    “Hmph. Mr. Evan Chambers. He couldn’t believe you didn’t fall for his so-called charms. The guy’s ego was so big, I don’t know how he got through doors without a brain injury.”
    In spite of her intention to remain cool and professional, Honey laughed at this. “He wasn’t that bad. Just a little over confident and self-absorbed and chauvinistic and…” she trailed off as she caught sight of Trixie’s smug expression. “Fine,” she continued, “you were right about him. I shouldn’t have gone out with him at all. I suppose you wondered what was wrong with me?”
    “No!” Trixie said. “He was tall, dark, handsome—sort of. So long as he didn’t, you know, actually say anything or do anything. He looked a bit like Brian with blue eyes. I totally knew why you went out with him.”
    “Oh, he was nowhere near as handsome as Brian,” Honey objected. She was quiet for a moment. “I guess you’re right. At first he did remind me a little of Brian, but I don’t think you could get two men less alike.” She didn’t add that he had seemed like a Brian who might not always put duty first—who might actually talk about his feelings—and that was one of the reasons she’d dated him. She’d since learned that if Brian’s being overly dutiful and a little incommunicative was frustrating, it was also the price she had to pay to be with the man she loved, and she was fine with that.
    “I’m just glad he’s not our client any more. Maybe we didn’t catch him doing anything wrong, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of it. He didn’t like the fact that we couldn’t dig up any dirt on his former friend.”
    “I guess we can understand that. He did think he was being cheated out of a significant amount of money. And people don’t like being cheated—especially by a friend or a former friend. It was hard for him when couldn’t find any evidence.”
    “Maybe there wasn’t any to find,” Trixie said. “He was way too smooth for my liking. Hopefully, he’s left the area altogether.”
    “Well, actually,” Honey said, thinking that making snap judgments was something that would never change about her friend, “I did run into him the other day. In that coffee shop down the street from the apartment building.”
    “What was he doing there?”
    “I don’t know. We just said a quick hi.”
    Trixie looked as if she had more to say but the door buzzer went and Honey got up. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go see our client.”

               

    The Bob-Whites might have all grown up, but they still loved a get-together. As it was Diana’s birthday, there was a big party that night at the Lynch Estate. Three years earlier, Diana and Mart had moved out of their modest home in Sleepyside and into a wing of the mansion when Diana’s father was fighting cancer. Mart’s job at the time, writing gardening articles and advice for a magazine, meant he could often work from home and was able to be on hand throughout his father-in-law’s treatment and recovery.
     When Diana fell pregnant during that time, they decided to stay on. Modifications to the big stone house had been made, and the young couple had their own entrance, drive and a full kitchen besides. Mart got on exceptionally well with his in-laws, and the arrangement worked for all concerned.
    “Did you talk to Honey?” Diana Lynch Belden, still the prettiest woman in Sleepyside, looked up the table arrangement she was working on and met her husband’s amused gaze.
    “No. I figured if Brian’s here, he’s here, but as I know we’re going to have tons of food, I’m not worried about him going hungry if he does show up.”
    “Very funny. Can I help it if I’m excited about the possibility of all the Bob-Whites being here tonight? Even Dan got the night off.”
    “Well, my lovely, I guess you’re just going to have to wait and see like the rest of us.”
    A slight frown marred her forehead and Mart crossed the room to join her. “Is there something up? Something I don’t know about?”
    “I’m not sure,” Di said. “I had lunch with Honey the day before yesterday and she seemed…worn out and, I don’t know, distracted. I hope she’s okay.”
    “Hey.” Mart knew that since her father’s illness, Diana was more inclined to worry when someone close to her seemed out of sorts or unwell. Philip Lynch had been tired and lethargic before his diagnosis, and it was only after persistent nagging from his wife that he went to a doctor for a check up. The findings had left the family reeling but luckily they’d caught it in time. “If anything was up you know Trixie would be all over it, and if it was important they’d let us know.”
    “I know. I’m sure you’re right.”
    “Now, Mrs. Belden. Do you think we should go and relieve your mother of her grandchild?”
    “Are you joking?” Di raised a delicate dark brow. “Better you than me. It’s only been just over an hour. You go and separate our child from his grandmother.”
    “Maybe we could leave it a little longer,” Mart agreed. “But I do think everything here is under control, so what shall we do. Any ideas?”
    “Ideas?” Di repeated, flashing her violet eyes.
    “It is your birthday, after all.”
    “Well…” Di pretended to consider. “We could rearrange the living room furniture. We could go shopping. A woman can never have enough shoes.”
     "Shoes?” Mart said in disgust.
    “I suppose we could do something closer to home.”
    “What an excellent suggestion,” Mart reached out an arm and pulled her toward him. “Did I mention how very fetching you look today?”
    “Must have slipped your mind.”
    “I guess I have some ground to make up then.”
    Di smiled. “I know just where you can start.”   

                *

Dan Mangan took a bite of his burger and focused his attention on the cute blonde sitting opposite.
“So why exactly are we meeting here instead of at your office?”
Trixie took a quick bite of her own roast beef sandwich and leaned across the table, keeping her voice low. “I didn’t want Honey to know what we were talking about.”
Dan leaned close too. “Is that why we’re whispering? Because you suspect Honey is nearby with some sort of a listening device.”
Trixie shot him a withering glance. “Don’t be ridic.”
“Okay, so fill me in on why you don’t want Honey to be a part of this conversation? Is something wrong?”
“Honestly, I don’t know,” Trixie admitted. “But something kind of odd has been happening and I think it’s time to talk to someone else about it.”
“And Honey doesn’t agree?”
“She’s less inclined to seek outside help or advice if that’s what you mean. But you know what she’s like.”
“Sure,” Dan said. In fact, he still considered Honey the more cautious of his two friends and the one most likely to seek help from others. Naturally, he was intrigued. “So, what gives?”
“You know that Honey has pretty much been living at the apartment for the past few months?”
“Yeah. Makes sense with how much work you girls do in White Plains.” Sleepyside had grown since Dan’s arrival thirteen odd years earlier. It had spread towards neighboring White Plains with more businesses and housing estates being developed and constructed to meet the growing need of the community. Belden-Wheeler Investigations was located in the new center, which had been built around three miles from the original town main street. Honey’s apartment was another mile or so towards White Plains, making it an ideal location for easy access to both towns and NYC when need be.
“Something’s been happening there.”
“What kind of something?” Dan demanded.
“A few times recently Honey’s been woken up in the middle of the night with someone knocking on her door. But by the time she gets to it there’s no one there.”
“How many times exactly?”
“Last night makes four in just over a week.”
“That doesn’t sound right.”
“No! See. Exactly!” Trixie gesticulated wildly. “That is exactly my point. Once, twice is a coincidence, four times is—”
“A pattern,” Dan finished grimly.
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Thanks to Dana for her awesome editing— all errors and things askew are mine and mine alone.
Trixie Belden et al belong to Random House and not to me (though that hardly seems fair) no profit is being made from these scribblings