by GSDana

Originally published at Zap's Trixie FanFic Site September 7, 2000.

Wannabe Author’s Notes:  Okay, I don’t watch Cops or NYPD Blue so hopefully my handling of law enforcement agencies is only semi-unrealistic, LOL.

Chapter Eleven:  A Villain Revealed

“Where’s the snoop’s car?”  A gravelly, menacing voice growled as soon as the depraved looking man entered Scott’s rented house.

“She walked over,” Scott replied.

“Are you sure?” The newcomer demanded in a voice made hoarse from years of cigarettes and rough living.  “That Bob-White outfit would never let her go anywhere alone with all of my fancy roses and well thought out prose coming her way,”

“You know how independent that girl is—maybe she never told them.  She trusted me, and she never told me,” Scott reasoned, his normally melodic voice taking on a somewhat whiny tone.

“Did you make sure she wasn’t followed?”

“Yeah, I did.  I was watching from the window—I saw her walk up from down the street and she was alone.  No cars drove by like she had an escort.  We’re cool, Uncle, I know what I’m doing,” Scott’s voice was defensive, but his uncle didn’t care how defensive he got—he certainly wasn’t going to be careless now that he finally had what he wanted.

He had sat rotting the joint because that...that girl had stuck her nose in business that wasn’t hers.  He had been bitter and angry at first, but he knew that anger wasn’t going to get him anything so he had channeled that anger into revenge fantasies.  Soon those fantasies had manifested themselves into plans.  And now those plans were about to become reality.  Yes, the Belden girl was going to pay, and pay dearly.

Scott’s uncle had thought about going after that redheaded Frayne boy after he was done with Belden, but that would be more risky, adding elements of danger and a higher risk of getting caught.  No, he could make that Frayne boy pay by merely carrying out his revenge on that curly haired snoop.  Jim was obviously still in love with her; the picture he had found in the desk drawer confirmed that.  Taking her away from him permanently would be torture enough.  Jim would live out the rest of his days knowing that he hadn’t been good enough, smart enough, or strong enough to protect her.  An evil smile curled on the thin, crooked lips at the thought of that hotheaded kid pining away for his little detective for the rest of his life.  Ah, revenge truly was sweet.

Scott interrupted his uncle’s thoughts.  “I’ve got her tied up in the basement—you wanna’ take a good look at her?”

“Yeah, I can’t wait to see that little meddler helpless.  Maybe I’ll even take a few pictures for posterity.  Maybe our friend Jim would like a copy to replace the picture I took from him.”  The two laughed at the joke as they descended the stairs to the basement.

Trixie was, mercifully, still sleeping, but Scott knew that the drug would soon wear off, and she would be awake.  He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she realized her plight.  Served her right.  What made her think she should get involved in other people’s business and send them to the slammer?  It was bad enough that his dad had died when Scott was a young boy, but then she had to go and take away his uncle, the only other father figure he had in his life.  By what right did she do that to him?

The two men stared at the helpless girl, her hands and feet tightly bound as she lay on the cold hard floor at their feet.  “A pretty sight, huh, Uncle?”

“It’s been a long time coming,” was the reply.

Just then Trixie started to stir.  Her eyelids fluttered and confusion set in as she tried to remember where she was and take in her surroundings.  Why can’t I move my hands and feet?  She thought as she tried to shake off the grogginess and bewilderment that enveloped her.  Her eyes finally focused on Scott and she started to smile, but then two things happened simultaneously:  she realized why she couldn’t move and she saw the man standing next to Scott.  A tangle of emotions flooded her disoriented mind: confusion, anger, disgust, fear, dread.  This isn’t possible, I must be dreaming, the distressed girl thought.  She blinked her eyes and realized that she wasn’t dreaming; that this was horrifyingly real.

“You never should have come back here,” she finally spat out at the stoop-shouldered man with the greasy black hair, crooked lips curved into a cruel smile showing teeth yellowed from tobacco.

“Oh, but I am having so much fun with my favorite little snoop,” the man uttered in a gleefully evil voice.

“You should have died in prison.  Better yet, you should have died in that fire you started at the mansion,” Trixie looked at the only man she had ever truly hated, pure venom dripping from her voice.

“Now, Trixie, is that any way to welcome an old friend?”

“Jonesy, you are a vile human being, and I hope you rot in hell for what you did to Jim,” Trixie’s anger was so powerful that she barely realized that, for the time being, she was helpless and that Jones was in control.  She hated this man; she wanted him to suffer as he had made Jim suffer.

Scott spoke up then.  “Jim?  Why are you so concerned about him?  I thought I was your boyfriend.”

A wave of embarrassment and disgust at herself washed over Trixie as she realized that she had fallen for this creep and all the time he had been playing her like a fool.  How stupid could I be? She groaned to herself.  How did I not see this?

There was only one way to salvage a little of her pride.  She looked Scott in the eye and said the words that she had realized deep down for a long time but hadn’t dared admit.  “Jim Frayne is the only man I will ever love, and he is a thousand times the man you could ever even dream of being.”

Anger contorted Scott’s normally handsome features until he looked truly ugly to the scared and angry girl on the floor.  She actually thought Scott was going to hit her, but Jones intervened.  “You are quite right that you will never love anyone again—because you’re not going to live very much longer I am afraid.”

Trixie tried not to react at his words, putting on a brave face in front of her captors.  “You don’t think they’ll come looking for me?”

Jonesy scoffed.  “They can look all they want.  They won’t find you.  And they’ll never think I am involved since, thanks to some cash and a prison guard with a gambling problem, I was able to fake my own death.”  Jonesy allowed himself to gloat, after all, that was what this moment was about, showing that little snoop that she wasn’t so smart after all and that he could outsmart her.

“You’re obviously not as smart as you think you are—a few kind words, a little picnic by the river and you’re ready to fall into this guy’s arms.  It was almost too easy!”  Jonesy laughed.  Trixie felt a rise of shame at his words but refused to give him the satisfaction of that type of reaction.

“Maybe so, but I was much happier when he wasn’t around and I was in Jim’s arms,” Trixie said coldly.

Scott, his male pride wounded, swore and took a menacing step toward Trixie.  “Why you little…”

Trixie braced herself for the pain she thought was going to feel from Scott’s curled fist, but Jonesy put out a restraining arm.  “You know she’s bluffing, don’t let her get to you.”  He looked at Trixie.  “I think that’s enough out of your smart little mouth.  Scott, go get a gag and shut her up.”

“Gladly,” Scott said through clenched teeth and went to find a suitable gag.

Jonesy leaned down so that his mouth was next to Trixie’s ear.  She could smell his fetid breath, and it made her nauseous.  “I’m going to have my fun with you, little girl.  You messed with the wrong person when you sent me to prison.”  With that he stood and retreated up the basement stairs.  Scott returned a few minutes later and tightly gagged Trixie’s mouth.

“You know you were falling for me, don’t even deny it.”  He looked at her helpless form, lying on the cold, hard cement floor and felt a surge of satisfaction at the sight.  “Have fun.”  He chuckled cruelly and headed back up the stairs.

The light went off and Trixie was left in total darkness, trying to control the rising tide of panic and fear that threatened to engulf her.  Tears sprang to her eyes as she thought of her friends and family, whom she might never see again.  And she thought of Jim.  She thought of the first time she had seen him sleeping in his uncle’s mansion, she thought of their first kiss, the fight they had had the night before she left for  Georgetown, and the years of loneliness and aching for him that followed.  But one thought above all others sustained her.  Trixie vowed to herself that she would somehow get out of this, and when she did, she was going to wrap her arms around Jim, kiss him like she had never kissed him before, and tell him how much she loved him.  Suddenly, despite her predicament, Trixie felt a peace that she hadn’t felt for a long, long time.

Helen Belden awoke at six a.m.  with an uneasy feeling.  She had meant to wait up for Trixie but had finally fallen asleep just after midnight.  She quietly slipped out of bed and went to the window.  It was a peaceful dawn and the first signs of the sun were appearing on the horizon, casting a faint light over the rolling grounds of the farm.  A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of her prized crabapple trees.  Trixie’s Jeep was parked in the lane and Helen breathed a sigh of relief, until she remembered that Honey had driven Trixie to meet Scott.

Helen tried to reassure herself that Trixie had come in quietly, while she had been asleep, but the nagging feeling that something was wrong would not go away.  Resolutely, she tiptoed down the hall to Trixie’s door and looked in.  Her heart quickened as her eyes caught sight of Trixie’s bed—perfectly made and unslept in.  Memories of times that she had checked in on her little girl as she was sleeping crossed Helen’s mind, and she ached to see her daughter’s tousled blonde curls sticking out above the blanket.

Her mind raced, trying to determine what to do next.  Trixie was a grown woman, she might still be out with Scott, having lost track of time.  No, her mind stubbornly said, Trixie would call.  She wouldn’t worry me unnecessarily knowing that stalker is out there.  Helen’s mind came to the only logical conclusion: something was indeed very wrong to keep Trixie out all night without calling.  She hurried back to her bedroom and awoke her husband.  He rolled over sleepily and looked at her, confusion in his eyes.

“What is it, Helen?” Peter’s voice, thick with drowsiness, asked.

“Trixie’s not home yet and I’m sure something’s wrong,” Helen explained to Peter.

“What time is it?”

“It’s already after six,” Helen informed him, trying to control her voice, but feeling panic rising with every second that ticked by.

Peter said up, his mind trying to rationalize his daughter’s absence.  “Maybe she lost track of time.  Trixie’s always been a bit of a free spirit.”

Helen shook her head.  “Peter, I don’t think so—she knows how worried we are with that lunatic sending her flowers.  I just have a feeling that this is serious.  I feel it in my bones.”

Peter looked at the woman he had loved and lived with for over half of his life.  He had learned long ago to trust Helen’s instincts, just as he had learned to trust his daughter’s instincts, knowing she had inherited her sixth sense from her mother.  Unfortunately, Trixie’s sixth sense seemed to get her into hot water a lot of the time.  He nodded at his wife, got up, and headed over to his bureau drawers to get dressed.

“I hate to sound a false alarm, but we had better call Honey and Jim.”

Helen agreed and was already picking up the personal phone book she kept next to the phone.  She had the main Manor House number memorized, but she wanted to dial Honey on her private line.

It took Honey several rings to answer the phone and she sounded very groggy when she finally did.  “Hello?”

“Honey, it’s Helen.  I’m so sorry to wake you this early, but Trixie hasn’t come home from her date with Scott yet.  Maybe I’m just being the overprotective mother, but I have a feeling that something is wrong.  I just don’t think Trixie would worry us like this if she could help it.”

Hearing that Trixie hadn’t come home yet, drove the sleepy cobwebs out of Honey’s brain.  “She went over to Scott’s to have dinner and watch a movie.  Maybe they fell asleep watching the movie,” Honey’s mind, too, tried to grasp a logical explanation, unwilling to believe that something may have happened to her best friend.

“Do you have Scott’s number so that I could call him?”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t, Mrs. Belden,” was Honey’s rueful response.  Why hadn’t she thought to get his phone number?  “Maybe information would have it.”

“I’ll try that.  Thanks for your help, Honey.”

“Please call me back when you’ve located her,” Honey stated with more confidence than she felt.  Helen was glad to hear Honey say when and not if.

“I will.”

But unfortunately, when Moms called information, she was told that Scott Mason’s phone number was unlisted.  She hung up with a sigh of frustration, berating herself for not getting Scott’s number from Trixie.  How had she managed to not get that crucial piece of information?

“Scott’s number is unlisted,” she reported to Peter, who was finished dressing and stood before her, a worried look transforming his handsome features.

“I hate to call the police if she’s just fallen asleep on Scott’s couch,” Peter said, trying to the ignore thoughts that crossed his mind of other pieces of furniture on which she might have fallen asleep.

Helen dialed Honey again, who answered the phone with a breathless, “Did you find her?”

“Scott’s number is unlisted.  I hate to call out the Marines if she’s just fallen asleep on his couch, but I can’t ignore the fact that some madman is out there stalking my daughter,” Helen’s voice, filled with worry and indecision, tugged at compassionate Honey’s heart.

“Do you want me to drive over there?” Honey offered.  “I really don’t mind.”

Helen jumped at the offer.  “Would you mind terribly?  It may be nothing, but if something has happened to Trixie, the sooner we act the better.”

Honey agreed and promised to head over to Scott’s as soon as she could dress.  Helen thanked her profusely and hung up.  She explained to her husband that Honey was on her way to Scott’s to check on Trixie, and the worried couple started the long wait for Honey’s phone call.

Honey hurriedly dressed and headed downstairs, stopping in the kitchen where Cook was already busy with breakfast preparations.

“If anyone asks, I’ve gone to do a little errand.  I should be back in less than half an hour,” Honey informed the cook, who nodded and promised to pass the information along.

During the short drive to Scott’s house, Honey tried to keep a reign on her thoughts, not allowing herself to think of any negative explanations for Trixie’s absence.  As she pulled into Scott’s driveway, she took a long look at the small ranch-style house he lived in.  Like most houses in Sleepyside, it was well taken care of.  There were no lights on in the house to indicate anyone was awake, and Honey felt slightly regretful that she would probably be waking Scott up, but her worry for Trixie was stronger than anything else at that moment.

She climbed the steps to the porch and rang the bell.  After waiting several moments, she rang the bell again.  A light came on from a room toward the side of the house and she waited for Scott to answer the door.  When he did, he looked very surprised to see Honey standing at his doorstep, and, Honey thought, extremely irritated.  Well, I can’t exactly blame him for being irritated at waking him up at this hour.

“Honey?”  Scott said in a friendly but puzzled tone, realizing he had better play the role of the concerned boyfriend or this girl would know something was up.  “Is everything all right?”

“Hi, Scott, I’m really sorry to bother you, but Trixie’s mom is worried because she hasn’t come home yet.  Is she here by any chance?”  Honey’s voice was apologetic and hopeful.

Scott shook his head, trying to come up with a story fast.  “No, I’m sorry.  Actually, Trixie called last night and cancelled the date we were supposed to have.  I’m kind of bummed out, because she’s cancelled quite a few lately.”

Honey’s heart quickened as she realized that Scott was lying, and the realization of why he must be lying swept over her, but she kept her face neutral and didn’t let on that she had caught him in a lie.  “Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me, since she’s told me she’s cancelled a few dates even though she didn’t want to.  She’s had a lot of things on her mind lately.  Well, sorry to have bothered you.”  Honey smiled her warm smile at Scott.  She would have rather kicked him in a sensitive area, hard, now that she realized that he must have been behind the threats to Trixie, but she knew it was important that he believe that she had accepted his story.

“No problem.  By the way, how did you know where I lived?”  Honey again detected annoyance mixed with the curiosity in Scott’s voice.

“Oh, Trixie pointed it out to me a while ago when we happened to drive by on our way to  White Plains  ,” Honey held her breath, hoping that Scott would accept her answer.  He couldn’t realize that she had driven Trixie over to his house last night or he would know that she knew he was lying about Trixie’s whereabouts.

Scott nodded.  “Please let me know when you find her, and I’ll keep an eye out for her as well.”

Honey smiled sweetly and said good-bye, seething inside.  She got in her car and drove away, trying to decide who to call first on her cell phone—the Beldens, Jim, or the police.  Molinson was always telling her and Trixie to involve the police early, so they didn’t find themselves in so many scrapes, but what if she was wrong about where Trixie was?  Scott had lied to her, and her mind had immediately jumped to the conclusion that Scott was lying because he was stalking Trixie, but what if she was wrong?  Or what if Scott had already taken Trixie somewhere else and she wasn’t at the house? Or what if he had already… No, Honey’s mind screamed.  Don’t even think it.  Trixie’s alive, wherever she is, she is alive.

The honey-haired woman decided to drive straight to Jim’s, get his opinion on the situation, and call the police and the Beldens from there.

That settled, Honey then tried to find a motive for Scott to be stalking Trixie.  The notes had definitely indicated that it was someone Trixie had helped send to prison, but she had never sent Scott to prison.  Either I am totally wrong, or Scott’s just the accomplice, Honey told herself as she negotiated the curves of  Glen Road with her Saturn.  She hadn’t really thought about it, but suddenly she knew where she was headed. She continued her thoughts, but stepped on the pedal a little harder now that she had a concrete destination in mind.  We still don’t know who Scott’s accomplice is.  It looks like Tilney Britten has now been ruled out, because Scott has had not contact with him or the nephew.  As a matter of fact, with all of the tails we’ve had on everyone we’ve suspected, not one has come across anyone meeting with Scott.  Which puts us back at square one.  Who is the maniac behind all of this?

Honey’s nerves were frazzled as she turned onto the lane leading up to Ten Acres.  It was already almost seven and there was already a quite a bit of activity going on Jim’s boys’ school.  She knew Jim would either be in his office already getting an early start to the day like he liked, or at the dormitory waking up the boys, as he liked to do on occasion.  She parked her car near his office, taking the gamble that he would be there.  She hated to go traipsing through the dorm as the boys were waking up and heading to the community bathrooms on each floor.

Luckily, she did find Jim in his office, saving her a search of the dorm and grounds.  Jim looked surprised to see his sister entering his office so early in the morning, and his heart stopped as he saw the look on her face.

“Jim, Trixie’s been missing since last night and I’m afraid that Scott may be lying about where she is,” Honey’s words tumbled out in a hurry to explain to her brother what was going on.  Jim’s face went absolutely white with shock and fear as he heard Honey’s words.  She continued to explain how she had taken Trixie to Scott’s house the night before, her promise to Mrs. Belden to check up on Scott after the worried early morning phone call, and Scott’s bald-faced lie to her when she asked him where Trixie was.

Jim’s jaw clenched.  He was about to say something when Honey’s cell phone rang.  She checked the Caller ID on the small display.  “It’s the Beldens,” she informed her brother as she answered the call.

“Honey?” Peter Belden’s voice was strained and she could hear Mrs. Belden sobbing in the background.

“Yes?” Honey said, her stomach plummeting.  Something was very wrong.

“More flowers came this morning.  This time the roses are all red,” Peter’s voice caught, and Honey realized he was trying very hard to control emotions that threatened to overpower the normally composed banker.  “And there was another note…”

Honey waited, as patiently as she could, as Peter tried to find the words to continue.  “Blood is pure red, and these roses are too, your daughter the snoop is never coming back to you.”  Peter could no longer hold his emotions in, and a raw sob tore from his throat.

Jim stiffened when he saw the look of horror and shock on his sister’s face.  “Mr. Belden, I’m at Ten Acres with Jim.  Call the police, we’ll be right over.”  She hung up the phone.

“What happened?” Jim asked in a terrible voice.

Tears welled up in Honey’s huge hazel eyes.  “There were more flowers, Jim, it doesn’t look good.  Let’s go.”

Jim quickly left a note for his secretary and the pair was soon racing for Honey’s Saturn.  She told Jim the contents of the note on the short trip to Crabapple Farm.  Jim said nothing.  What could he say?  God, I’ve been a fool.  I’ve loved her most of my life and my stupid pride got in the way.  Why didn’t I tell her how I felt when she came home from  Georgetown  ?  What if I never see her again?  NO!  That’s not going to happen.  I am going to find her and when I do, I am never letting her go again.  God, please keep Trixie safe until I can find her.  If you give me this second chance with her, I will never ask for anything again.  Please don’t take her away from me.  Please.

Honey pulled into the Beldens’ lane, followed shortly by two police cruisers.  Molinson stepped out of one, and two uniformed officers stepped out of the other.  Honey ran up to Molinson and quickly told him about her early morning trip and her theory that Scott had tricked Trixie and now held her captive.  Mr. and Mrs. Belden joined the group on the lawn just in time to hear this.

Honey looked at Trixie’s parents; both looked as though they had aged ten years overnight.  Worry ravaged their faces and it tore at Honey’s heart to see the couple she had come to think of as her second parents looking so destitute.

Molinson was radioing in the new piece of information about Scott’s possible involvement.  “No, don’t send anyone out there yet.  We need a little time to think things through so that we have the best possible chance of getting her out of there alive.”  Mrs. Belden gasped at his words, and Peter Belden put his arms around his wife to comfort her.

“What are we going to do to get her back?” Jim spoke to Molinson in a voice filled with determination.

“Well, unfortunately, even with what Honey told us we don’t have probable cause to search the house.  If we sent someone over there right now, Scott wouldn’t have to let them in and it would just tip him off.  We’re going to have to get a search warrant from a judge before we can do anything,” Molinson informed the group.

“Well, then, let’s get going,” Jim said briskly.

Molinson gave him a look but did not comment.  He simply got on the radio again and gave the details to the dispatcher so that the closest judge could be contacted to issue the search warrant.

“So now all we can do is wait?”  Jim asked, a mixture of impatience and irritation in his voice.

Molinson look regretful as he nodded.  “I’m afraid so.”

Mrs. Belden spoke up then.  “Why don’t we all head into the kitchen.  I’ll make some coffee.”

The sunny kitchen was in direct contrast to the somber group that gathered in it to discuss strategy.  Bobby wandered down in the middle of it all and Mr. Belden led him into the family room to explain what had happened.  Honey used her cell phone to call Brian, Jim used his cell phone to call Dan and Hallie, and Mrs. Belden used the kitchen extension to call Mart and Di.  None of the calls were easy.

After all of the phone calls had been made, Molinson looked at Honey.  “You realize what this means don’t you?”

Everyone else looked confused, but Honey knew immediately what the Captain meant.  “None of our tailed suspects is the culprit, and no one still in jail is likely to be the culprit.”

Molinson nodded.  “So maybe it’s not someone Trixie locked away.”

Honey shook her head.  “No, one of the notes she got plainly stated it was.”

“Maybe that was to throw us off of the trail.”

“No, I don’t think so.  Who else would hate Trixie enough to do this?  It was someone she put away and someone we haven’t been tailing,” Honey stated.

“But we’ve put tails on everyone in the area and not in jail.  The only one we didn’t tail was Jonesy, because we couldn’t,” Jim stated.  Honey’s hazel eyes made contact with Jim’s green ones, and suddenly something clicked.

“Jonesy!”  Honey and Jim exclaimed at the same time.

Molinson looked at the two of them as though they were crazy at first, but comprehension dawned in his eyes.

Honey grabbed her cell phone.  Thank goodness she had had the foresight a few weeks ago to get Alex’s number from Trixie “just in case.”  She speed dialed his home number and got his machine.  She tried his office but when his secretary said he wasn’t in yet, she left an urgent message and hung up.  “Damn!  He must be on his way in to the office right now.  He should call as soon as he gets the message though.”

Mr. Belden had returned with a very shaken Bobby.  Helen explained to them that Honey had a hunch Jonesy was involved.  “Could he have faked his own death?” he asked Molinson.

Molinson thought for a moment.  “It’s possible.  I’ll go ahead and call the prison and see what information I can get.  It’s too bad Trixie’s FBI agent friend isn’t available.  There will be more red tape for me to go through being a local law enforcement agent than he would have as a federal agent.  Is there an extension where I could sit down at a desk and write?”

Mr. Belden showed him to the study, where Molinson promptly got to work making necessary phone calls.  In the meantime, Mart and Di had shown up.  Di looked distraught, Mart deeply worried, as Honey filled them in on all that they knew so far.

Di sat down, dazed.  “I can’t believe Scott turned out to be such a creep.  He seemed so nice.”

Honey, who had her own feelings of guilt on that subject, agreed.  The group sat in tense silence, each thinking of the best way to go about helping Trixie.  Mrs. Belden offered to make breakfast, but nobody felt like eating.  The sudden ringing of Honey’s cell phone made everybody jump.  Honey looked at the phone’s display.  “It’s Alex!”

Upon hearing the full story, Alex immediately agreed to contact the prison where Jonesy had been incarcerated.  He also promised to call the  New York  field office to get back up for the Sleepyside Police force.  Normally a local law enforcement agency would have balked at the FBI moving in so quickly, but Trixie was highly regarded by the members of the Sleepyside PD and this was, after all, a kidnapping case, part of the FBI’s jurisdiction.  Honey thanked him for his help and immediately hung up so that Alex could get the ball rolling.

Molinson came stalking into the kitchen just then.  “The prison warden is being less than helpful.  He doesn’t want to tell me anything except that his prison is very cleanly run and nothing underhanded ever goes on with his upstanding prison guards.  The good news is that I just got a call telling me that we have a search warrant for Scott’s house.  Has the FBI guy called back yet?”

Honey nodded.  “He has.  He’s going to try to get any information he can from the prison.  He’s also sending over some field agents from the  New York office.”

Molinson thought for a moment and turned to Trixie’s parents.  “I have the search warrant.  I can get my men and go search Scott’s house now or I can wait until the feds get here.  It’s up to you, whatever you feel most comfortable with.”

Mrs. Belden did not hesitate.  “Go now.  I know and trust your officers to do a fine job, and I don’t want to wait for the FBI to get here.”

Molinson nodded.  He, too, was confident that his men could handle this just as well as the federal agents and precious time was ticking away.  He immediately got on the radio and started to bark orders.  After he had finished, he turned to the worried and anxious group.  “I’ll be back soon.”

Honey and Jim moved forward.  “I want to go with you,” they said at the same time.

Molinson sighed.  He wanted to order them to stay put, but he knew he had little chance of them actually following his orders.  He carefully weighed his options, deciding that it was better to let them go where he could keep an eye on them.  “Fine, let’s go.”

Honey and Jim smiled weakly at those staying behind and promised to keep them informed.  “Good luck,” Mart called after them.

Within twenty minutes, a dozen policemen had the house surrounded.  One was stationed outside of each window and two were at the back porch.  Honey and Jim were waiting in a police van down the street.  Molinson and two of his men approached the front door and knocked.

Scott opened the door and looked surprised when he saw policemen standing on his front porch.  “Yes, Officers, how may I help you?” he asked very politely.

Molinson showed him his badge and the search warrant.  “We have reason to believe that Miss Beatrix Belden is being held here against her will.  This is an official search warrant to search the premises.”

Scott opened the door wider.  “Of course, come in.”

Molinson hesitated.  He had expected Scott to slam the door in his face and run, not invite him inside.  Suddenly, he doubted if Scott was involved.  The gruff police captain turned to his men and motioned them inside.

The ranch style house was small, and it didn’t take the three policemen long to search the first level and the basement.  Frustrated and devastatingly disappointed, Molinson could only come to one conclusion.

Trixie was still missing.

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