by GSDana

Originally published at Zap's Trixie FanFic Site August 3, 2000.

Chapter Eight:  Determination

Honey was waiting at the bottom of her driveway the next morning.  Trixie pulled her Jeep into the driveway and leaned over to unlock the door for her friend.  Honey climbed in and smiled.

“Honey!  Why didn’t you wait for me up at the house?”  Trixie wondered.

Honey shrugged.  “Oh, I just felt like a walk this morning.  It’s no big deal,” she assured Trixie.

“Okay, if you say so,” Trixie sounded doubtful, but decided to take her friend’s word for it as she backed out of the driveway and headed toward Sleepyside.

Honey looked at Trixie expectantly.

“What?”  Trixie finally exploded.

“I want to hear about your date, of course!”  Honey demanded.

“What date?”  Trixie tried to act innocent.

Honey snorted.  “You know perfectly well the date I refer to.  How is the handsome Scott?”

Trixie smiled in spite of herself.  “We had a blast!  We went back to C.B. & Pott’s, as I told you we were going to, and it was a lot of fun.  We just talk about everything and nothing.  It’s just very…relaxing, hanging out with Scott.  With Matt it was always so intense, in a good way of course, and with Jim…well, you know Jim.  He always seems to hold a little of himself back.  But I feel like I can say anything to Scott.  That he’ll understand and not worry needlessly about  me.  It’s fun.”

Honey was glad to hear that Trixie sounded happy.  “Well, I must admit that I wish you and Jim would patch things up, but I am happy that you’re happy.  I think Scott’s good for you.”

“Me, too,” Trixie decided.  “I like having a nice relaxed relationship for a change.  Jim and I always had a lot of fun together, but there was always that underlying feeling that I couldn’t quite be myself without worrying about how Jim would worry, you know?  And, with Scott, I don’t think about Jim every minute when I’m with him, like I did with Matt sometimes.”

“Speaking of Matt, are you sure you’re ready to face him?”

Trixie thought for a moment.  “I think so.  Truthfully, I missed him a lot right after I got back from Quantico, but once I got busy with classes my senior year, I never really gave him much thought.  What does that tell you?”  Trixie asked rhetorically.

Honey glanced in the backseat at the pile of roses unceremoniously flung all over.  “And you’re really going to march up to his parents’ penthouse carrying those?”

Trixie shrugged.  “Why not?”

Honey smiled.  “I could never do it.”

“Sure you could,” Trixie reassured her friend as she pulled the Jeep into the day parking lot at the Sleepyside Train Station.  The two girls headed toward the ticket window to purchase seats on the train that would take them into  New York City.  This was the same commuter train that Honey and Di’s dads had been using to take them to their New York offices for years, but Trixie and Honey rarely had occasion to ride it themselves.  They only had to wait for about five minutes before their train pulled into the station.

“Perfect timing,” Honey commented.

The two were silent on the hour long trip to  New York.  Honey divided her time thinking about wedding details and about Trixie’s problems, while Trixie’s mind was constantly turning over criminals in her past, thinking whom it might be that was sending her the roses.

“You know, Honey, I think the last time you and I rode this train together was when we were tailing Peter Ashbury,” Trixie mused as they were almost to Grand Central Station, and their destination.

Honey thought for a moment.  “You know, Trix, I think you might be right!”

“That was some case, huh?”  Trixie asked rhetorically.

“Weren’t they all?” was Honey’s reply.

The train pulled into the station, and within twenty minutes the two girls were standing out front of a modern high-rise that was home to Matthew Graham, former boyfriend of Trixie Belden.

Honey looked at her friend.  Trixie was never one to shrink from anything, but Honey noted how her best friend’s face seemed a little pale as she stared at the building.  “It’s now or never,” she heard Trixie mutter.

The doorman looked at the two girls staring at the building, one with blond curls holding a bouquet of roses as if it were a snake and her honey-haired friend looking worried and immediately wondered if something was amiss.  There was something very familiar about the blonde girl, but he couldn’t place just where he had seen her before.

“May I help you?”  He asked politely as the pair approached the door.

“Jack, you probably don’t remember me, I was here with Matt Graham several times…”  Trixie began, by way of explanation.

Suddenly, recognition dawned on Jack.  Yes, she was a spunky one, this particular girlfriend of the Graham boy!

“Yes, I do remember you by sight,” Jack informed her.  “I’m sorry I’ve forgotten your name Miss…”

“Belden.  Trixie Belden,” Trixie said, suddenly feeling like James Bond introducing himself.

“Yes, Miss Belden, have you come to see Matt?”  Jack wanted to know.

Trixie nodded in affirmation and Jack looked confused.

“Is he expecting you?”

Trixie shook her head.  “No, this was purely a surprise visit while I happened to be in the city.”

Jack looked at the roses curiously, but continued.  “I’m sorry, Miss Belden, but Matt left with his parents for  Europe over two weeks ago.”

Trixie’s face fell, not with disappointment that she couldn’t see Matt as the doorman assumed, but with the knowledge that he could not have possibly sent any of the bouquets.

Jack felt sorry for the disappointed girl, thinking she was here to reconcile a broken heart of some sort.  “He’ll be back in about three weeks, you can try then.”

Trixie smiled gamely.  “Okay, thanks.  I appreciate the information.”

Jack smiled at the two attractive girls as they disappeared into the crowds strolling along the sidewalk.  Such a pretty girl, Jack thought.  I hope she and the young Graham boy can work things out.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Trixie turned to Honey.  “Well, that lets Matt off the hook.  It’s got to be some criminal we put away years ago.”  The thought did not appeal to either girl.

“Let’s call Jim and have him meet us at the Sleepyside Police Department so that we can look into what the Captain has found out,” Honey suggested as she pulled out her cell phone.  Jim agreed to meet them that afternoon and, once again, the girls found themselves on a train, lost in their own thoughts.

This time neither girl could push aside thoughts about the criminals they had come into contact with in the past.  With Matt in  Europe, it was no longer possible to pretend that a criminal coming back for revenge was a far-fetched idea.  The two sat and discussed various possibilities.  Honey certainly hoped it was not Pierre Lontard.  The ordeal of being tied up on that  Mississippi  riverboat had taken her years to get over.  Even now, during times of stress she occasionally had nightmares about the sinister gun-runner.

By the time the train pulled into the station, the two girls had not come up with a satisfyingly narrow list of possibilities: Trixie was just too good at what she did and there were too many criminals that she was responsible for putting behind bars to narrow the list down.  They briskly walked from the train station to the police station.  Jim was waiting in front of the Police Department as Trixie and Honey walked up.

“Been waiting long?”  Honey asked.

“Not at all,” Jim replied.  The three made their way to Molinson’s office, all feeling uneasy at what they might find.  Molinson saw them and waved them in.

“Well, there are a couple of criminals on the loose,” were the first words out of the gruff policeman’s mouth.  “But none of them are likely candidates.”

The three waited expectantly for Molinson to continue.  “As far as the ones you had starred, you were right, they had the most to lose and were the most treacherous, but as a result of their crimes, they are the ones still locked up tight.  Not one of them is out of jail, or even close to parole.”  Molinson sighed, not wanting to be the bearer of bad news, but knowing it was his responsibility.  Being a cop wasn’t always pleasant.  “There is one exception.  Your stepfather, Jim…”

Jim stiffened.  “Jonesy is on the loose?”

“No, not exactly.  He’s no longer in jail because, well, because he passed away last year, Jim,” Molinson said softly.  He knew there was no love lost between Jim and Jones, but he also knew that death was never easy to hear about.

Honey and Trixie both looked at Jim, their faces filled with concern, but Jim didn’t seem to notice.  He didn’t look distraught, nor did either girl expect him to be over hearing the news, but they knew that this must be upsetting, despite the fact stepfather and stepson had always been at odds.

“How?”  Jim said, in a tight voice neither Honey nor Trixie recognized.

“A heart attack,” Molinson said, uncharacteristic concern softening his voice.

Jim nodded, digesting the news.  Jonesy was gone.  Jim had carried Jonesy with him for so long, ever since he was a young boy, that even though he hadn’t spoken to him in almost a decade, he felt the loss.  Not in a way that made him sad or sorrowful, but after carrying around the weight of his memories of Jones for so long, of course he would feel…something. 

 He had never told the Bob-Whites the full extent of what had happened to him at Jones’ hands.  When he had first laid eyes on Trixie and Honey, well, Trixie was a fresh-faced, innocent country girl who didn’t need to know about the cruelties of the world and Honey was a timid, protected rich girl, afraid of her own shadow—how could he shatter these two girls’ worlds by telling them the horrors Jones had put him through?  And after time passed, and he realized the girls were tough enough to handle the truth, he no longer wanted to discuss it.  It was a part of his past, and he felt that he needed to leave it there.  The physical scars had healed and he was more than ready to let the psychological ones heal as well.  And now, upon hearing the news of Jonesy’s death, he felt as though he could finally lay his past to rest.

 Realizing the three were staring at him in concern, Jim became matter-of-fact: there was still Trixie’s well-being to consider.

 “So, who is out there?”  Jim said in a brisk voice.  Honey and Trixie knew the subject was closed for right then and turned to the Captain to hear his answer.

 “Burt Mitchell and Jack Caridiff were released on parole about a month ago in Vermont, but they have been in constant contact with their parole officer. Jack is, ironically, working at a ski lodge, but Burt hasn’t found a job yet.  He might be a risk,” Molinson concluded, referring to the two criminals who had played at being the “Ghost of Mead’s Mountain.”

 “Slim Sanderson has been living in a halfway house in Missouri for about the last two years.  He hasn’t left the state according to the official who runs the halfway house,” Molinson informed them.  Honey briefly remembered how cruel Slim had been when he was their guide at Bob-White Cave, near Trixie’s Uncle Andrew’s cabin in the Missouri Ozarks.  She was glad to hear that he had not left Missouri.

 “Roger Higgins got out about six months ago.  He’s moved in with his dad in Sleepyside.  I hear Jeff Higgins is none too happy about supporting his felon son, but he doesn’t want him falling onto the wrong side of the law again, so he’s letting him stay.  He’s trying to teach him the auction business, again, but he’s still a little nervous that something might happen, the way it did with the Dodge’s auction,” Molinson continued with his findings.  Trixie thought back briefly to the case of a young child who thought he and his baby brother were castaways.  Bobby was still friends with Davy Dodge, and Trixie had been pleased to see that he had grown into a well-adjusted teenager.

 “According to the Idaho authorities, the Swishers were released about three years ago and have opened a sasquatch museum that is actually doing decent business.  They still report to their parole officers, but are considered low risk for returning to criminal activity,” Captain Molinson stated.  “And that’s it, gang.  Everyone else is still in custody.”

 “Everyone?”  Honey repeated.

 “I’m afraid so.  The only two plausible people are really Jeff Higgins and Burt Mitchell.  He could easily drive down to  New York City  and back to Vermont without causing any suspicion with his parole officer, and of course Jeff is right here in Sleepyside.”

 While Trixie thought about these revelations, Jim had a thought.  “What if it’s someone who is about to be released, having a partner helping him from the outside.  It would give that person the perfect alibi, but if they knew they were getting out soon, they could set it up so they were in on the finale.”

Molinson nodded.  “I thought of that.  I have a list of criminals either due to be released or up for parole in the next six months.  Due to be released include Sam Adler, you remember him as Sammy, the fella’ who stole Hoppy, Nicholas Morgan, who tried to swindle Miss Trask’s brother out of their family inn, and Laura Ramsey.”

Trixie involuntarily looked at Jim upon hearing Laura Ramsey’s name.  She still remembered the jealousy she felt when she thought Jim preferred the supposed daughter of a “missing millionaire” over her.

“Who is due for parole?”  Honey wanted to know.

“Tilney Britten, Margo Birch, and Lewis Gregory,” Molinson stated simply.

“Lewis Gregory?  Already?”  Trixie was incredulous.  He was an arsonist, an insurance fraud, and when he had tried to set fire to Lisgard House after pretending to be the whispering witch, it had been learned that he had actually pulled the same stunt before.  She truly believed he would be locked away for a long, long time.

“He’s due for parole, Trixie, it doesn’t mean he’s going to get it,” the Captain assured her.

“Well, then, if these are my choices, my money is on Burt Mitchell or Tilney Britten.  Jeff Higgins was no major league criminal—he was a dumb guy who got in over his head in a poker game with the wrong people—he isn’t capable of pulling this off and the rest seem to be pretty low risk,” Trixie reasoned.

Molinson looked at her.  “I actually happen to agree with you, but before you dismiss anyone, remember that several years in prison can harden anybody—and make them vengeful.”

At this revelation, Honey looked woebegone, Jim looked like he wanted to punch someone, and Trixie looked troubled but defiant.  The three thanked Molinson for the information, listened to another lecture on keeping the police chief informed, and slowly left the police station.

Trixie turned to Jim immediately after exiting the building.  “Are you okay, Jim?”

Honey voiced her concern, also.  “Yes, Jim, how do you feel?”

Jim headed for a nearby park bench and sat down, the two girls following him.  For a moment or two he stared out at the small park across the street from the police station and didn’t say a word, trying to collect his thoughts.

“I’m definitely okay,” he finally stated.  “But it just feels…weird.”

Honey nodded and patted her brother arm.  Neither girl wanted to break the silence, waiting for Jim to speak again.

“Obviously, I was never close to that man, and now that he’s gone I feel…”  Jim thought for a moment.  “Nothing.  I feel nothing.  And I feel guilty for feeling nothing.  He was, after all, a human being.  Even if I didn’t like him, I should feel something.”

Trixie disagreed.  “That’s not true, Jim.  He was a horrible man who not only looked out for only himself, but who didn’t mind hurting people to get what he wanted.  And he treated you like some animal in a cage that he despised.  Lesser people might even feel happiness at hearing about his death, but you’re too honorable to feel that.  You had no closeness with this man, no bond like you did with your father, certainly no good feelings or memories, so in the absence of feeling grief or sorrow at his death you simply feel nothing.  You have nothing to feel guilty for.  Heck, even if you felt happiness over hearing about his death, I don’t think you should feel guilty.”

Honey nodded.  “I agree with Trixie, Jim.  You’re numb right now.  Jonesy may not have meant a lot to you, but he did mean a lot in your life, if you know what I mean.  He was an important force in it; he shaped a lot of what you did and how you acted.  Ultimately, he led you to Trixie and me.  But I have always suspected that you never told me or Mother and Daddy or any of the Bob-Whites all of the horrors you lived through at Jonesy’s hands, and I think if I knew the depth of what he had actually done to you, even I would feel gladness about hearing about his death.  Don’t beat yourself up.  This is big news and you’re bound to feel overwhelmed.  Emotions, or the lack of them, are not right or wrong—they just are.  Feel what you need to feel to deal with this, but don’t ever feel guilty over your emotions.”

Jim smiled at his sister and Trixie and knew they were right.  He had survived, he had gotten out of the situation, and he had found Sleepyside and the Bob-Whites as a result.  Jones’ death was big news, but it needn’t affect him so greatly.  He hadn’t seen Jones in almost a decade and the nightmares had long since subsided.  “You two are right, as usual.  Did you have lunch in  New York?  Should we hit Wimpy’s again?”

Trixie and Honey agreed, glad to see that Jim was going to be okay.

~*~*~*~*~ 

Late the next afternoon, Thursday, Trixie began to wonder if she was going to be okay.  She sat at the kitchen table staring at the message she had just written down.   Alice had just called to say that another order of flowers for Trixie had come across the computer.  Unfortunately, she had been at lunch when it came through so it was already well over an hour old when she found it.  Instead of completing the order, she had immediately called Trixie to give her the information: one dozen roses, nine white, three red, ordered from a large florist in New Jersey this time, no request to delay delivery a day, and another poem.  

Roses are red
Innocents are white
Is our poor Trixie
Working herself into a fright?

Trixie wrote down the dates the flowers had been sent.  She studied the list and realized that a week had passed between the arrival of the first and second bouquet, four days between the second and third and two days between the third and fourth.  “At this rate I’ll be getting the next ones tomorrow,” Trixie muttered as she pondered what the accelerated delivery dates could mean.

Suddenly, Trixie reached for the phone and dialed a familiar number.

“Alex?  It’s Trixie,” she stated when she heard Alex’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Trixie!  It’s so great to hear from you.  How are you?”  The FBI agent wanted to know.

“I’ve been better,” Trixie stated as she went on to explain to him the situation with the flowers and the intruder at Jim’s school.

“This sounds serious, Trix,” Alex declared after she had finished giving him the details.  “I think you should come back down to D.C. for a while, lay low.”

Trixie bristled.  “I have never been one to back down from a mystery and I am certainly not going to start now!”

Alex admired her spunk, even if it did worry him in this particular situation.  “I know, Trixie, but maybe you could do some detective work from down here.”

“You have ulterior motives, Alex.  I know that your reasons for wanting me down here are not all related to my safety,” Trixie gently accused.

Alex sighed.  Trixie’s safety always came first for him, but maybe there was some truth to his words.  “Trix, you know I care about your safety above all.  Of course I want you to join the FBI, but you’re acting like I’m trying to get you to join some cult!”

Trixie giggled.  “Maybe I have been acting that way.  It’s not because I feel that way, but I am really torn by this decision.  I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and when someone starts to push me, I get defensive.  I’m sorry, Alex.”

“No apologies, Trixie, that’s human nature.  But you have to understand how much I want you tom come work for the FBI and it's hard for me not to push,” Alex explained.

“Okay, we’ve got that out of the way.  Is there anyway you can help me with my current situation?”

Trixie and Alex discussed several possibilities and Trixie hung up, satisfied with the knowledge that Alex was going to use his FBI databases to access records of prison activity among some of the criminals she had put away.  He would try to determine visitors, suspicious behavior, and any other details that might prove helpful to this case.

With that accomplished, Trixie called Honey and told her about the latest development with the flowers.  Honey took the news better than Trixie expected and urged her to meet her in the clubhouse in an hour.  Trixie agreed.

One hour later, Trixie could not believe her eyes.  How had Honey managed this?  Trixie’s confused blues eyes stared into the eyes of six concerned Bob-Whites.  Honey had managed to get all of them together on short notice.  Trixie knew that Jim, Mart, and Di were close, but Brian and Dan?

Honey spoke first, her voice showing the nervousness she felt.  “Trix, we’re here to have a bona fide BWG meeting about this case, just like we used to in high school.  Please understand.”

Trixie looked at the pleading in Honey’s hazel eyes and despite her initial astonishment and, yes, she had to admit, annoyance, at seeing so many pairs of concerned eyes, she knew that Honey had done this out of love and worry for her.  “I’m okay.  I…I guess I’m just a little surprised is all,” she managed to stammer.

“Admit it, Trix,” Dan drawled.  “You’re not surprised, you are downright stupefied.”

Everyone laughed, breaking the tension.  And Trixie admitted that Dan was right.  Surprise at seeing a full assemblance of the Bob-Whites of the Glen on a Thursday afternoon could definitely land in the category of “stupefaction.”

Di spoke next.  “Trixie, Honey has explained the details of your case, and Jim has explained the details of his.  I know that I am not a full partner of the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency, but I am still worried about you.  I would have loved to have been included up to this point.”

“My dearest Beatrix,” Mart began pompously, “thou must cognize that your comrades and kinsmen fully exist in apprehension of your vulnerability and that we would desire forewarning when –“

“What Mart means to say,” Brian interrupted, “is that we worry about you and we just want to know what’s going on with you.  If you’re in danger, Trix, we want to know.”

Trixie started to protest, but Jim gently interrupted.  “Trix, we care about you and we want to help you.  We don’t want you getting in over you head.”

Honey looked at her friend and suddenly realized that they had pushed her too far.  Getting the Bob-Whites together had seemed like such a good idea, but she had envisioned a brainstorming session on how to track this criminal down, not the well-meaning but misplaced lectures that Trixie had heard too often in her life.  She started to say something to placate Trixie and ease the situation, but it was too late.

“Do you know why I left?  Do you want to know why  Washington D.C. seemed like such a great idea?”  Trixie said heatedly.  “Because of this!”  She turned to Honey.  “I know you didn’t plan on this.  I know that you understand me better than anybody on this earth and you would never intentionally subject me to this.  I’m sure your intentions were to get all of us together and hammer out a plan to catch the bad guy, but all I am getting is the same lectures I did as a teenager.”  She turned to the group and all of a sudden everyone, including her brothers and Jim, understood that she had grown up from the impulsive teenager with the tousled blond curls that she had once been.  “Well, let me tell the rest of you something.  I can take care of myself!  I took self-defense and karate in college, I trained with the FBI for crying out loud—they think I’m good enough, worthy enough, to join them.  Why can’t any of you give me any credit whatsoever?”  Trixie looked as if she was about to say more, but suddenly she turned and stalked out of the clubhouse.

In the uneasy silence that followed, Mart finally found his voice.  “Wow.  I was just scared for her.  Someone is stalking my sister and I feel helpless, I never meant to imply…”  His voice trailed off.

Honey looked at the group and took charge.  “Okay, that did not go as planned but we can salvage this.  Brian, please go look for your sister.  Someone is stalking her and I would rather she didn’t wander through these woods by herself.”  Brian looked startled at his fiancée’s authoritative tone, but he realized she was right and hurried to find Trixie.

“Jim—you have been acting like a first class ninny since we were teenagers.  Trixie is a free spirit, she always has been.  If you couldn’t accept that, you should have let her go a long time ago.  Mart, you have always mercilessly teased your sister.  Okay, so you had a complex because you were ‘almost twins’ for the month of May—get over it.  She needs your support more than ever now.  Dan, you gave Trixie more support than anyone when she was chasing a mystery, but you still let your fears from your past get in the way—trust her instincts a little more, will ya’?”  Honey finally laid it on the line to each of the men in Trixie’s life and she was not sorry for it.  They needed to get together and act as a team for Trixie’s sake, not give her a seminar on how to be a perfectly feminine specimen.  That was not Trixie, and it never would be.

“I called you all here not to lecture Trixie on how she needs to live her life, but to use our brains to get to the bottom of this.  We are all just going to accept that Trixie has a sixth sense.  Yes, it gets her into hot water at times, yes, it attracts trouble, but there is nothing we can do about that.  She will always attract mysteries because she’s Trixie.  And we love her for that.  So just accept the inevitable and let’s get to the heart of the matter.  We all love that girl and someone is trying to scare her, possibly worse, so we owe it to her to help her discover who is doing this so she can get down to the business of living her life.”  Honey looked at the assembled group, all of them avoiding meeting her eyes, knowing that their honey-haired friend couldn’t be more right.  “Who’s with me?”

Everyone raised their eyes and looked into Honey’s hazel ones.  “I am,” four voices said in unison.

“Good,” Honey’s voice was brisk and business like.

Trixie and Brian entered the clubhouse just then.

“Trixie, we overreacted,” Jim stated.

“We’re really sorry,” Diana said contritely.

“Trixie, I don’t know if I’ve ever met anybody more capable of taking care of themselves,” Dan confided.

“Trix, I’m sorry,” was what Mart, the lover of words big and small, simply said.

Honey grinned at her friend.  “Quit throwing a tantrum worthy of Bobby and sit down.  We need to get to the bottom of this!”

Trixie smiled in return, her mischievous blue eyes sparkling.  “My, Honey, when did you get so bossy?”

“I learned it from you,” Honey said flippantly.

And the seven Bob-Whites, feeling stronger than ever, began to brainstorm and plot, confident that their determination and devotion would eventually outsmart the villain that threatened one of their own.

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