by GSDana

Originally published at Zap's Trixie FanFic Site July 24, 2000.

Wannabe Author’s Note: Laura S. you get your wish! :)

Chapter Five: Investigations

Monday morning Honey called Trixie, requesting her presence at the clubhouse.  Trixie agreed to meet her friend there and called to her mother to let her know where she was going to be as she slipped out the back door of the white frame farmhouse.

Trixie tried hard to control her curiosity all the way to the clubhouse.  Fortunately it’s a short walk or I’d never be able to contain myself!  Trixie chuckled to herself, knowing patience had never been one of her virtues.

When she opened the door to the clubhouse, she was surprised to see Jim sitting at the table next to Honey.  Her first instinct was to run, but she quickly smiled and tried to act casual but friendly.  “Hi.  What’s up?”

Honey looked at her friend, silently begging Trixie not to be mad at her for setting up this meeting.  “The Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency has its first official client.  That is, if you want to take the case.”

Trixie looked at Jim, her curiosity definitely piqued.  “Let’s hear it.  I assume you’re the client?”

Jim nodded.  “First, Trixie, I want you to know that I asked Honey not to tell you I was here when she called, so don’t blame her.  Second, I’m really sorry about the other night.  I was way out of line.  Can we be friends?”

Trixie looked at the pleading in Jim’s green eyes and knew she could not stay mad at him.  “I’m not mad at Honey or at you. We both lost our tempers the other night, but that’s water under the bridge.”  She held out her hand in a gesture of friendship.  “Truce.”

Jim took her hand and smiled.  “That’s great, Trix.  Thanks.”

Trixie sat down at the table and pretended not to see Honey’s cat-that-swallowed-the-canary grin.  She knew that Honey’s arm didn’t have to be twisted to set this meeting up—Honey was forever playing matchmaker.  First she encouraged me to give Scott my number, and now she’s encouraging me to talk to Jim, I wish she’d make up her mind!  Just what is she up to?  Trixie vowed to ask her about it later, but right now she focused on the case before her.

“So, Mr. Frayne, what can we at the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency do for you?  I assume Ms. Wheeler explained our fee structure,” Trixie looked at Honey.

Honey did her best to keep a straight face.  “Actually, Ms. Belden, I had not proceeded that far into negotiations with Mr. Frayne.  I was waiting for your presence to negotiate a business arrangement with the client.”

Trixie nodded, all business.  “Fine.  Mr. Frayne, we demand a $100,000 retainer to take the case.  Additionally, we charge $3000 an hour for our services—that’s each, by the way—and of course all expenses we may encounter in the investigation are your responsibility.  Do you agree to the terms?”

Jim’s face took on the look that he reserved for handling business arrangements connected with the school.  “Well, Ms. Belden, I am quite sure that both you and Ms. Wheeler are worth those exorbitant fees, however, I feel the need to make a counteroffer.  You take on my case and I won’t tell your brothers about the time I caught you, Honey, and Dan skinny-dipping in the Wheeler lake!”

Both Trixie and Honey blushed red to the roots of their hair.  The summer before Dan had left for college he had told both girls that although they were bold and adventurous, he didn’t think they were gutsy enough to actually go skinny-dipping with him in the Wheeler lake.  Both girls had risen to the bait, and that happened to be the night that Jim decided to take a moonlit swim.  He had not been happy to discover both his sister and his girlfriend less than respectable with Dan, but fortunately he had seen the humor in the situation.  He had also seen the blackmail potential in the situation, as well.  It was times like this that a gentle reminder kept both girls in line.

“That was years ago!”  Trixie finally managed to respond.

“Well then, let’s go tell Brian and Mart about that evening, shall we?”  Jim kept a poker face, but a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes.

“How about I kick you in the shins instead?”  Trixie said playfully as she did just that.

“Ow!”  But there was more surprise than pain in his exclamation, and both girls knew it.  “Now I am going to tell them!”

“Jim Frayne!  You’ll do no such thing,” Honey was indignant.  “And now that we’ve gotten this silliness out of our systems, let’s get to work.”

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” both Trixie and Jim shouted in their best military voice.  All three dissolved into laughter, thinking how good it felt to laugh with one another again.  There may have been a lot between them, but both Trixie and Jim finally felt as though they were back on the road to friendship.

The three sobered up and were about to get to business when Dan came striding in the door of the clubhouse.  “If I didn’t hear it and see it, I never would have believed it!” He exclaimed.  “Trixie and Jim—laughing together in the clubhouse.  Have I gone back in time?  Entered a parallel universe?  Should we call Mulder and Scully and get them out here to solve this X-File?”

Trixie snorted.  “If you feel the need, smarty pants.  What brings you out here this morning—don’t you have a job in  New York?”  She grinned wickedly then.  “Or at the very least some patrolling for Mr. Maypenny to do?  Maybe chopping some wood?”

Dan laughed, remembering that he rarely got to do anything with his friends when he was younger because he was forever out patrolling, or chopping wood, or working with troubled kids—all teaching him responsibility, keeping him out of trouble, and helping toward his goal of becoming a New York City policeman, of course.  “Nah, I took the day off to help my uncle with some things he needed.  You know how he is about driving a car and I haven’t taken a day off since I started with the force over a year ago, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt anyone.  I was headed that way when I heard the unmistakable sound of insane laughter drifting through the trees.  Now, it’s been a while since I patrolled these parts, but I wanted to make sure the property was free of those disagreeable hyenas.  Imagine my surprise when I realized the laughter was coming from the clubhouse.  I knew I had to investigate right away!”

By this time, the three friends were giggling again at Dan’s explanation.  “Guilty as charged—we are the source of the insane laughter!”  Trixie freely admitted.

“So what are you guys all doing here?”  Dan inquired.

“Jim’s got some hot mystery he wants Honey and I to solve,” Trixie started to explain.  “Do you have time to sit and hear about it, or does Regan need you right away?”

Dan took a seat.  “I’m actually early.  I was going to cajole Cook into making me one of her famous Western omelets.”

“Well, we can’t offer you brunch, but maybe you’ll be interested in the case,” Honey said.  “Go ahead, Jim.”

So Jim explained what he had found in the barn, ending with an apology that he didn’t have a better time frame for the intrusion, except that it had to have been in the last six months.

“And you’re sure the boys couldn’t have done it?”  Trixie asked.

Jim shook his head.  “No, I’m not sure of anything, Trix.  I doubt it, though, because it looked like someone was staying there—you know the blanket and empty food cans.  If any of the boys had sneaked back there to smoke or drink, I don’t think they would have taken overnight stuff.  I also think that they would have the brains to clean it up so it wouldn’t be discovered.  They have more to lose than some tramp.”

Trixie nodded.  “That seems like good sound logic, and I have to agree with you, but before we rule out anything, are there any boys who are particularly attention seeking?  Or just plain ornery?”

Again, Jim shook his head.  “No, I got blessed with a bunch of great kids.  I mean, considering their background, some of them might have had an ax to grind when they first came to live here, but they’ve been really responsive.  I think they’re glad not to be in a foster home or an orphanage somewhere, or even worse.  I’ve really tried to stress that this is their home and that we’re a family, as corny as that sounds.  Some of the older ones sounded off when I first brought them here, but they all seem to be settling in great.”

“Okay, I’m convinced,” Trixie said.  “We’ll keep that possibility at the back of our minds, but let’s go on the assumption that it was an unknown trespasser.  Now we have to decide if it was an innocent case of a vagrant needing a place to get out of the weather, or a malicious break in.”

Honey broke in then.  “Jim said he found quite a few cans, so I think that whomever it was stayed for more than just one night.  And I would hope that whole bottle of tequila wasn’t consumed in the same evening, but you never know!”

“How big was the pile of cigarettes?”  Trixie wanted to know.

“It was pretty big.  I’d say at least two packs worth,” Jim speculated.

“Well, I tend to agree with Honey.  Someone camped out there for a couple of days.  Now we need to determine when.”

“Is the stuff still there?”  Dan queried.

Jim nodded.  “Let’s head over there.  Do you have time to look, Dan?”

“Sure, I’ll just go tell Uncle Bill what I’m doing.  He won’t mind if we delay going into town a little bit,” Dan headed off to tell Regan of the change in plans, while the other three headed over to Ten Acres.

Within a couple of minutes, Trixie found herself staring at the debris in the loft.  “Well, we can try to ask Captain Molinson to have one of his men dust for prints, but if it was some hobo here during the winter he may have had gloves on.  Hence, no prints.  If it was recent, and it was just some tramp, chances are there are prints, but unless he happens to have a criminal record or served in the military, we probably won’t be able to i.d. him.  And there’s a third possibility,” Trixie hesitated, formulating her thoughts.

“What’s that?”  Jim wondered.

“If it is someone who knows the area, and was camping out here to spy, he may have been smart enough not to leave any prints at all,” Trixie explained.

Dan climbed into the loft just then.  Instead of joining them at their end of the loft near the window, he headed in the opposite direction, toward the darker end.  Trixie watched as he stooped to pick something up, excited that Dan may have found another clue.

“What did you find, Dan?”  She called.

Dan approached them, using a handkerchief to gingerly hold a plastic bag.  “It’s a bread wrapper, and the expiration date is day after tomorrow.”

Trixie was excited.  “If that bag is from our intruder, then that places him here very recently.  I mean, bread’s not usually marked ahead more than a week or two.”

Jim slowly nodded.  “We may have even scared him away.  I got Bill to have some men patrol here at night after this stuff was discovered the day before yesterday.”

Trixie thought of something.  “Was this place locked up, Jim?”

Jim confirmed that it was.  “I looked at the lock when Bill first told me about the intruder, and it looked as though the lock had been picked.  If I hadn’t been examining it for that specific reason, I never would have noticed it.  But to the casual observer, the barn would have looked locked up.”

Honey spoke up then.  “If we’re dealing with someone who can pick a lock without doing much damage, we’re probably dealing with a criminal.”

“And if we’re dealing with a criminal, he probably has his prints on file,” Dan carried the logic one step farther.

“Okay, the next step is to get Captain Molinson involved.  I’m all for just taking this stuff to him, but you know how he would react to that one!”  Trixie smiled ruefully.  “Go ahead and give him a call, Jim.  His men can analyze the scene, and take what they feel is the best evidence.”

Trixie took one last look around the loft before climbing down the ladder.  She then made a thorough inspection of the barn, but found nothing amiss in the lower portion of the structure.  Jim headed to his cottage to call Captain Molinson, Dan toward Manor House to his waiting uncle, and Honey and Trixie took the trail back to Crabapple Farm, knowing that Jim would have better luck with the gruff policeman if they weren’t present.

Despite the fact that Trixie was eagerly, and somewhat impatiently, waiting for the results of the fingerprinting, the week went by rather quickly.  Things were settling back into the routine Trixie had grown used to as a teenager: chores and keeping her younger brother out of trouble.  Even at fourteen, Bobby wasn’t much easier to handle that he had been as a six-year-old, still demanding attention from his older sister.  Trixie helped him with his homework and took him for rides in her Jeep.  Mr. and Mrs. Belden had agreed to let Trixie give him lessons in shifting on the little used, dead-end  Louis Road, but Trixie wasn’t sure her Wrangler was going to survive it.

Also, Scott had occupied her time by calling her everyday.  Trixie enjoyed their conversations, about anything from criminal law, to D.C., to music, to movies, to whatever happened to catch their interest at the moment.  Scott and she did have a lot in common and, unlike Jim, he seemed intrigued by her penchant for mystery solving, not once telling her to “be careful” or “start thinking.”  Trixie was actually looking forward to their double date with Honey and Brian.

Friday morning, as Trixie sat bemoaning the fact that four days had gone by with no word from Captain Molinson about the fingerprints, the doorbell rang.  Trixie hopped up to get it and was surprised to see a flower delivery boy standing there holding a bouquet of roses.  “Delivery for Trixie Belden.”

“That’s me,” Trixie confirmed as she took the fragrant arrangement.  She set the flowers on the table and grabbed her mother’s nearby purse to give the boy a tip.  Her own purse was upstairs and she vowed to remember to replace the money as soon as she read the card.

After the boy had gone, Trixie examined the flowers.  It was a simple arrangement of a dozen roses, eleven white ones surrounding one red one.  Trixie took the card and again noted that the penmanship was distinctly feminine.  And once again, the card held a rather cryptic note.

I have you to thank
For my situation
And these flowers are
My declaration

“What is up with this?”  Trixie mused out loud.  “Could Scott have sent them before our date tonight?  No, he would have signed his name, plus I got the other flowers before I even met him.  Very weird.”

Moms entered the kitchen just in time to hear Trixie’s last remark.  “What’s weird, Trixie?”

“These flowers,” Trixie stated simply.

“They’re beautiful.  No name on the note again?”

Trixie shook her head.  “No, Moms, and now I’m a little worried.  I really don’t think it’s Jim, and I haven’t been in town long enough to have a secret admirer.”

“Well, I know you haven’t talked to Matt in a while, but maybe you should call him,” Helen suggested.

“Call him out of the blue after nine months and say, ‘Hi, Matt, you’re not stalking me are you?’”

Helen chuckled at her daughter’s expression.  “Well, I don’t know what to tell you, but at least ask Jim to be sure.”

“Moms, Jim and I are finally on speaking terms.  I don’t want to ruin anything by bringing these up.  The notes aren’t threatening, so I’m sure there’s no danger involved,” Trixie reasoned.

“I still don’t like it, Trixie.  I honestly thought that Jim or Matt might have sent them to you, but now I’m not so sure.  And with all the criminals you’ve put away over the years, who’s to say that one of them doesn’t want revenge?”  Mrs. Belden was frankly worried for her daughter.

“A criminal who sends roses?”  Trixie asked incredulously.

“It could happen.  Trixie, I’m worried, even if the notes aren’t threatening.  Call the flower shop and find out who they’re from.”

“Neither the envelope nor the card has the name of the florist and, come to think of it, the delivery boy didn’t have it on his baseball cap either.  He was just wearing a Detroit Red Wings cap, not one with the florist’s name.  Do you remember what he was wearing last week?”

Helen Belden shook her head ruefully.  “It might be the same boy, because I do remember the cap, but I don’t remember what was on his jacket.”

“Well, I could either call every florist in the area or wait and see if more get delivered and then ask the person who delivers them what shop they’re coming from,” Trixie said.

“There is only one florist shop in Sleepyside, so it shouldn’t be too hard.  They would be the only one in the area to deliver to us, so that narrows your search down,” Mrs. Belden pointed out.

“Okay, you’ve made your point.  I’ll go call,” Trixie stated with a sigh.

She pulled the phone book out, located the number, and dialed.

“Sleepyside Florist,” a cheerful voice trilled into the phone after three rings.

“Hi, my name is Trixie Belden, and I just received some flowers.  I was wondering if you could give me some information.”

“Yes, Miss Belden, my name is Alice  and I remember both of your flower orders.  What can I do for you?”  Alice certainly sounded friendly.

“Did you take the order in person?”  Trixie wanted to know.

“No, actually, I took both orders from two different stores in  New York City.  The person who ordered the flowers wanted them delivered to you, so the stores in New York put the information in the computer and sent the orders onto us for delivery.  Is there a problem?”

“No, but as you know, since I am assuming you wrote the card, there’s no name and I haven’t a clue as to who might be sending them,” Trixie informed the florist.

“Ooh, how exciting!  A secret admirer!”   Alice exclaimed, not knowing Trixie’s penchant for trouble.  Anyone else might be getting flowers from an admirer, but with Trixie’s luck, it could turn out to be something else.

“Does the order say what the person’s name is?”  Trixie went on as though  Alice hadn’t squealed right in her ear.

“Let me check the computer,” Alice  said as she put Trixie on hold.  Trixie only had to wait a few moments before  Alice  was back on the line.  “According to this, both orders were paid for in cash and the gentleman didn’t leave his name.”

Trixie perked up.  “But you’re sure it’s a man and not a woman.”

“Well, no, I just assumed…”  Alice  sounded a little flustered.

“Can you give me the names and phone numbers of the two shops, please?”  Trixie requested, realizing she would get no more information out of Alice  as to the identity of the mysterious sender-of-roses.

“Of course.”

After taking down the information, Trixie thanked  Alice for her help and hung up the phone.  She was even less successful in her quest for information at the flower shops in the city.  Both were very large shops, handling many customers every day, and no one at either shop could remember any details of the transactions.  Frustrated, Trixie hung up the phone, and reported the news to her mother. 

Then she had to decide: Should she call Matt?  This might be nothing and she’d hate to call him for nothing.  While she was deciding what to do, her mind drifted back to the last time she had seen him.  Matt and she had broken up in June, not long after Jim’s second graduation and right before she had left for Quantico.  She had tried calling him a few times while she was at the FBI training camp, but had never gotten a hold of him.  Finally, when she got back they had made arrangements to go out to dinner.

“Trixie, I don’t want to do this.”  Matt had said over Thai food.

“It’s not that simple.  You’ve got baggage that I thought I could deal with, but I’m sick of being in a relationship with two other people: you and Jim,” Matt didn’t say it to be mean, but the words angered Trixie just the same.

“Someday, you’ll go back to Sleepyside and be with Jim.  Just you wait and see.  Just wait and see what happens then, then you’ll finally understand how I feel.  All the frustration and hurt I’ve been carrying around.”

Trixie hadn’t understood what he had meant then, and he refused to explain it to her, telling her that she would find out in time.

I just thought he meant that he would eventually be proven right when I was living near Jim, and that he thought I would finally see that he was right when he nagged me about my feelings for Jim.  I had chalked it up to nothing more than male ego, but what if it was more ominous than that?  What if he’s been tracking me and thinks that just because I’ve moved back to Sleepyside that I’m with Jim?  Could the thought of me with Jim be so unbearable to him that he would snap and do something drastic?  Trixie didn’t like the possibility that a man she had been with for almost a year could be a stalker.  But that doesn’t make sense, does it?  He had no contact with me at all throughout senior year, and never did I even get a hint that something was wrong.  It can’t be Matt.  As far as I know, he’s still in D.C. and these flowers were ordered in New York.    Then a thought struck Trixie.  But he’s from  New York City and his parents still live there.  No, no, it can’t be Matt.  I refuse to even allow the notion that it might be Matt.   Trixie tried to dismiss the thought, but it remained lodged in her consciousness.  She decided to make a deal with herself.  If I get flowers one more time, I will call Matt.  No, better yet, I will show up on his parents’ doorstep with the flowers and judge his reaction myself.

With this resolved, Trixie felt much better.  She glanced at her watch and realized it was almost time to meet Honey for an afternoon horseback ride through the preserve.  She said good-bye to her mother and hurried up the path to the Manor House.

Helen waited until her daughter was out of sight and grabbed the phone.  She looked up a number and dialed, hoping to catch him in his office.  She was in luck.

“Ten Acres Boys’ School, this is Jim Frayne.”

“Hi Jim, it’s Mrs. Belden.”

“Hi there!  This is a surprise,” Jim wondered why she might be calling him at work.  He had already called to apologize for not showing up for pie last Sunday.

“Well, Trixie will kill me if she knew I was making this call, but I’m just too worried about her,” Helen stated.

Jim was immediately on guard.  What was Trixie involved with now?  “What’s up?”  Jim tried to sound casual, but his heart accelerated at the thought of Trixie in some kind of trouble.

“Well, I hate to put you on the spot, but have you been sending Trixie flowers?”  Mrs. Belden asked.

The question took Jim by surprise, and it showed in his voice, convincing Mrs. Belden that he was sincere.  “No.  I take it she’s been getting some?”

“Yes.  A dozen white roses came last Sunday with a cryptic note and no name.  This morning another dozen were delivered but this time one rose was red.  And there was another cryptic note, a poem really,” Helen informed him.

“What do the poems say?”  Jim inquired.

Helen read the most recent poem to him, and recited what she could remember of the first one.  “They’re not threatening or anything, but they’re not exactly a romantic tone you would expect with a dozen roses, either,” Trixie’s mother concluded.

“I don’t like this one bit,” Jim said bluntly.  “What if she’s being stalked?  Has she tried to find out who sent them?”

Mrs. Belden reported what her daughter had found out from the florist that morning.  “That’s why I wanted to call you.  Trixie felt strange asking you, but I had to know if it was you.  And you know Trixie.  I don’t think she’s taking this nearly seriously enough.”

“Well, I’m glad you told me, Mrs. B.  It is most definitely not me, but I would like to get to the bottom of this.  Is there anyone from school it might be?”

“I asked her if it might be the only boyfriend she’s had beside you, a fellow named Matt, but she insists they haven’t had any contact for almost a year.”

Jim sighed.  He hadn’t had much contact with Trixie over the years, either, but that hadn’t stopped him from thinking about her, missing her, longing for her.  Trixie was unforgettable.  What if this guy had just been planning, plotting, making Trixie think he had forgotten about her?  Jim remembered meeting him at Mart’s and at Dan’s graduations.  He hadn’t liked him, he recalled.  “Is this guy still in D.C.?”

“I don’t know,” Mrs. Belden admitted.  “I do know that his parents live in  New York City.”

“So he had opportunity,” Jim said before thinking.

“Do you think it could be Matt?  He always seemed like such a nice boy,” Helen fretted.

Jim felt bad for thinking out loud and upsetting Trixie’s mom.  “No, just a habit I picked up from your daughter—thinking out loud without stopping to think if I should be thinking out loud.”  Jim laughed.  “And apparently I picked up Trixie-and-Honey-speak somewhere along the line, too.”

Mrs. Belden laughed, glad that she had confided in Jim, even if Trixie might be angry.  After all, Trixie may have felt funny asking Jim herself, but she had never said she hadn’t wanted Jim to know.  And Mrs. Belden certainly didn’t feel funny asking Jim, if her daughter might be in the slightest bit of jeopardy.

“I won’t let Trixie know you spoke to me.  I’ll try to reason things out on this end, but you keep me posted, okay?”

Helen promised that she would, and the two hung up.

Jim opened his desk drawer and pulled out a worn photo of Trixie.  It was one of her senior photos from Sleepyside High and her blue eyes sparkled in anticipation of the exciting year ahead.  It was one of Jim’s favorites; he had carried it in his wallet until he had gotten himself this desk when he opened the school.

Jim stared into those ocean blue eyes and wondered, What have you gotten yourself into now, Trixie?

Trixie Belden® is a registered trademark of Random House Books. These pages are not affiliated with Random House Books in any way. These pages are not for profit. Image courtesy of Ian Britton, FreeFoto.com.

Story copyright © GSDana