*mild profanity, adult themes

Thanks to Kate for all her encouragement and advice on the joys of writing two stories at once (the other one is at The Other Side), and a big thanks for her all-powerful, patent-pending suck-o-meter (I send her a chapter, she lets me know if it sucks!) I take full responsibility, however, for the contents of this story I like to call…

A big "Thank You" to my friend Vicki, who spent many years working in the Santa Clara County Juvenile Hall, for answering my question, "When somebody comes in, do they get any counseling?" Sadly, the answer is no. Unbelievably, there are no psychologists on staff, and there are no programs in place to deal with the inevitable mental issues kids in trouble are facing (big time family problems mostly. Don’t even get me started on how horrible some of those parents are! I used to be the clerk for the Electronic Monitoring Program.) And as Vicki put it, "I did what I could, but I’m an AOJ major—what do I know about counseling kids?" Yikes.

Mary

Dan Mangan made his way along the well-beaten trail from Mr. Maypenny’s cabin to Jim and Trixie’s house, hoping that the coffee was on and that they were in the mood for company. It was a beautiful fall morning in the woods just outside of the small town of Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson, but he hardly noticed as he walked along, deep in thought. I should be happy. I’ve finally been promoted to Detective, which is what I thought I wanted. So why am I so miserable? He thought he knew the answer, but what he didn’t know was what he was going to do about it. He had worked so hard to get where he was at—was it important that he actually like it too?

"I’m not the kind of girl, who gives up just like that, oh noooooooo!"

He grinned as he heard the sound of Trixie singing at the top of her lungs, her voice floating into his ears with the fragrant, crisp air. He rapped once on the door that led into the kitchen, opened it and called, "Yoo hoo!"

Trixie walked away from the stove, turning the radio down. "Hey," she greeted him, returning to her pan of scrambled eggs, sprinkling shredded cheese with one hand, stirring with the other.

"My, don’t you look domestic!" he bantered, helping himself to the longed for coffee. He sat at the table and looked around the cheery kitchen with appreciation. It was not unlike the kitchen at Crabapple Farm, Trixie’s childhood home.

"Yeah, yeah. It’s not like I’m wearing a frilly apron and high heeled pumps." She was about as far from June Cleaver as she could get in sweats and a ‘What, Me Worry?’ tee shirt, her hair falling in damp curls onto her shoulders. She grinned over her shoulder. "Besides, and don’t let this get out, cooking relaxes me," she admitted.

"No!"

"Make yourself useful and set the table—this is almost done."

"Yes ma’am," he said, feeling himself relax at the familiarity of the scene. He liked having such good friends as his closest neighbors, especially Trixie, who he always felt he could tell anything to. His best friend was her look-alike brother Mart, but sometimes it was just easier to talk to a female. Besides, she had his number, always had, ever since the day he first came to Sleepyside to live. He tried to impress everyone with tall tales of avoiding arrest, but she just gave him that look, the same look she still sometimes gave him today. "Where’s the family?" he asked as he laid down four plates on the table, referring to her husband Jim and their three year old daughter Katy.

"Oh, they rode Jupiter to Mr. Lytell’s to get the paper. They should be back any minute."

"I can’t believe she’s not afraid of that horse." Jupiter was Jim’s enormous black gelding. Even though he was growing milder as he aged, Dan would never consider trying to ride him.

Trixie set the platter of bacon in the middle of the table, the smell making his mouth water. "I know; she’s not afraid of him at all. She loves it—Regan says she’s a natural," she said, referring to Dan’s uncle, Bill Regan, who was an expert in all things horse related. "He usually doesn’t start lessons on anybody under the age of four, but he says he’ll make an exception in this case." She studied Dan’s face as he chewed on a piece of bacon, wondering what was making him so depressed this morning. "What’s up?" she asked abruptly.

Dan almost choked. He swallowed, saying teasingly, "Can’t a guy just freeload off his neighbors without the third degree?" He sighed at her look. "All right—I’m secretly in love with you and I’m hoping you’ll consider running off to the Caribbean Islands with me."

"Or maybe, you’re not too sure about this whole detective thing, and you’re kind of freaking out." She smiled at his look of surprise. "C’mon Dan, it’s a no-brainer—you’ve only been doing it for three months, it’s gotta be a rough adjustment and you walk in here looking all intense like Samuel L. Jackson when he decides he’s going to give up being a hitman and walk the earth."

Dan laughed. "Okay, caught. I am having all these thoughts about my job. It just isn’t how I thought it would be."

Trixie shook her head. "I’m starting to think that nothing ever is," she replied sympathetically. Dan was about to reply when the door opened again, admitting a tall, red-haired man and a long-legged little girl with strawberry blonde ringlets.

"Food…thank God. I’m starving," Jim said, tossing the paper on the counter, carefully setting Katy down, smiling as she made a beeline for Dan. "What is this power you have over women?" he greeted Dan as he sat across from him.

"I drove the horse!" she announced, lifting her arms up so he could pick her up.

"You know what’s great about little kids?" Dan asked, settling her on his lap, dropping a kiss on her cheek. "They don’t waste time wondering if they’ll be rejected, or wondering what it all means. If they want to be held, they just hold up their arms and voila! They’re so trusting."

"Unless, of course, they’re given a reason not to be," Jim said, thinking about the history of some of the students at his school. Ten Acres Academy was a school for homeless boys that Jim founded with money that grew from the inheritance he received from his great uncle. And while some of them had parents who once cared for them, many of them had never been given any kind of affection. "But we sure don’t have that problem here," he added wryly, thinking about the many people in Katy’s life. He had wondered if the outpouring of love that greeted the first grandchild on both sides, not to mention first niece for his sister and three brothers-in-law, would spoil her, but so far she seemed remarkably unaffected.

As if reading his mind, Trixie added, "I was actually worried that she’d become too self-centered from all the attention. I was glad when Diana had twin boys last year—it took some of the heat off!" She smiled thinking about her two, dark-haired nephews. They had her brother Mart’s blue eyes, but otherwise they were pure Diana.

"How are Han and Luke?" Dan asked, bouncing Katy on his knee.

"Peter and David are fine," Trixie said, grinning. "You’d better not let Di hear you call them that!" When the boys were first born, Mart tried in vain to get Diana to agree to naming them after the two Star Wars heroes, but settled for naming them after each grandfather. "I can’t believe Mart was serious." She started serving steaming scrambled eggs to each of them.

"But it would have been so cool," Dan said, setting Katy down on her own chair.

"Han Belden? I’m sorry, but that sounds ridiculous," Jim said, scooping a forkful of eggs into his mouth. "Han’s the kind of name that only goes with Solo!"

"But Luke Belden has a nice ring to it," Dan mused. "Maybe they should have named them Luke and Lando…"

"Ughh, sounds like a circus act!" Trixie protested.

They all laughed, enjoying each other’s company, Dan feeling better than he had all week. He was glad he’d decided to stop by. If nothing else, he had friends, and really, who could ask for anything more? "What’s on the agenda today?"

"The agenda is not to have an agenda," Trixie answered firmly. "Today I want a boring life. I’m planning on reading the paper—that’s about as far as I’ve gotten." She and Honey had just finished a complicated case for one of their steady attorney clients and agreed not to set foot in the office for a few days. She smiled at everyone. "That’s the beauty of having yourself for a boss. I’m officially declaring mysteries off limits for awhile."

Jim and Dan laughed. "Until you happen onto one, you mean," Jim teased, laying his hand on her knee under the table. Trixie smiled but didn’t deny it.

"Well, I wish I could join you in doing nothing, but I’ve got to get to work," Dan said, his face unconsciously sobering at what he had to do today. This is not why I became a cop, he thought. He slowly became aware that both Jim and Trixie were regarding him. "So long," he said, hastily standing up, tweaking Katy’s nose, making a fast exit before anyone could ask him what was wrong. "Thanks for breakfast," he called over his shoulder, closing the door behind him.

Trixie sighed. "Well, you were more right than you knew—I have found a new mystery. Two new mysteries, if you want to know the truth." Her face was thoughtful as she leaned across the table to wipe egg off Katy’s chin before she ran into the next room. "That girl must have an internal timer that lets her know when ‘Rug Rats’ is coming on!"

"Like you ever miss X-Files," Jim responded. He sandwiched her hand between his. "And what mysteries are cooking in that curly head of yours?

"Number one, the mystery of the bummed out neighbor, starring our own Dan Mangan as the man who got what he’s always wanted and now isn’t sure he likes it."

Jim was nodding. "Yeah, I get the feeling that Dan’s going through some kind of career crisis too. But what’s the other one?"

Trixie looked at him seriously, saying slowly, "The mystery of the sad sister-in-law." She was very worried about her best friend and co-owner of the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency. Unlike Dan, Trixie knew that Honey loved her work as much as she did. But like Dan, she’d been quiet and troubled lately.

"Honey? What’s going on?" Jim asked, immediately worried about his only sister. "Has something happened?"

"That’s why it’s a mystery—I don’t know that anything has happened. She just isn’t acting like her normal happy self. She’s been very quiet and distracted lately, but whenever I ask her if anything is bothering her, she always says no. But I know something is. I just know it." Her tone reflected her inner worry, her blue eyes troubled.

"Just keep bugging her. If anyone can get her to open up it’s you," Jim said, handing her the paper after removing the sports section for himself.

"Thanks…I think," she said, smiling wryly. They read in companionable silence for awhile, the sun shining through the windows with more light than warmth, but the day still stunningly gorgeous. After I read the paper, I’ll see if everybody’s up for a long walk through the woods, she thought, idly skimming over the world events that seemed to get more and more alarming all the time. She moved onto the local section, a name from the past suddenly leaping out at her. Wow, can she even be old enough to be a lawyer? she thought as she read the article quickly, the subject matter filling her with equal parts fascination and horror.

Jim noticed her enthralled expression and silently groaned to himself. He knew that look. It was the same look she always got when she started on the trail of a new mystery. Make that three, he thought, gearing himself up for the unknown. Life with Trixie was many things, but boring sure wasn’t one of them!

Trixie, never taking her eyes off of the newspaper, reached for her coffee cup, her hand making a tentative spidery movement when she didn’t make the expected contact. She finally looked up to find Jim slowly sliding the cup away from her hand, an amused expression in his eyes.

"You’re worse than Mart sometimes," she said indulgently, retrieving her cup.

"What’s got you so interested? And do I really want to hear this story?" Jim asked. "I thought you wanted a boring life," he reminded her, a fond smile letting her know that he didn’t really mind, was interested in whatever had her interested.

"This doesn’t have anything to do with my boring life," Trixie replied, smiling herself. "But it is kind of mysterious," she finished enthusiastically, eliciting a slight groan from her husband.

"I’ll bite—just what is so mysterious?" Katy’s laugh drifted in from the other room and Trixie’s smile faded as she answered his question.

"Well, it’s more sad than mysterious, actually. A baby has been taken away from his mother, who is under the suspicion of child endangerment."

Jim was nodding—in his line of work he’d heard it all. It never got any easier, but he was rarely surprised anymore either. "And…?" he said, sensing there was much more to it. His suspicion was confirmed when Trixie continued—

"The Attorney General’s office has the case now, because the DA has thrown it out for lack of evidence. And you’ll never guess who is in charge of the case." Trixie paused for effect. "Joeanne Darnell!" she said, her blue eyes still surprised. She had kept in sporadic touch with her over the years, but what with mysteries to solve, college to attend and a child to raise, it had been awhile since she’d heard anything about the young woman. Even with email, how is it that it’s so damn hard to stay in touch with people? she thought regretfully. She had always liked Joeanne.

"Joeanne Darnell! That can’t be—she’s not old enough to be a lawyer, let alone work for the Attorney General’s Office." Jim remembered a scrawny black-haired girl he had met when he ran away from Sleepyside, a serious-eyed girl who seemed much older than 11 years…

"That’s what I was thinking too! But the article goes on to say that she’s the youngest member in the history of that office. And the last time we heard anything about her, she was attending law school. It has to be her!" Trixie concluded earnestly.

"What else does it say?" Jim asked, gesturing towards the paper.

"That the baby was first taken away because he failed to thrive, but the DA’s office wasn’t able to build a solid case. The baby was about to be returned when ‘the youngest member in the history of the White Plains Attorney General Office’ took over the case." Trixie set the paper down and shook her head. "Boy, that’s a serious accusation. I hope Joeanne knows what she’s doing. If she’s wrong she could do irreparable harm to that mother, not to mention the baby." She tried to imagine somebody taking Katy away from her and couldn’t—it was simply unthinkable.

Jim looked thoughtful. "Joeanne is not somebody who would take a step like that lightly. She’s far too serious and careful, not to mention responsible."

"On the other hand, she did run away that time. How serious, careful and responsible is that?" Trixie stated, forgetting in her enthusiasm for the subject that Jim had done the same thing, long ago.

Jim suddenly laughed. "Let’s not forget a certain person in this room ran away a couple of times!" he reminded her, a teasing glint lighting up the green of his eyes. "Besides, you’re always telling me that being too responsible isn’t good for you." He knew he had a tendency to be far too serious, but Trixie usually saved him from becoming a complete bore. It was because of meeting her that he rediscovered the simple joys of life—a swim in the lake, a horseback ride through the preserve, a barbecue with friends. Before that, he’d been worked half way to death by his tyrannical stepfather, and between that and school, he’d forgotten what having fun was like until he ran away to Sleepyside, looking for his great uncle. His uncle died before he got to meet him, but instead he found the love of his life and his sister, and his life was never the same…

"That’s different—you didn’t have a choice," Trixie exclaimed, not liking to think about why. She had long grown to accept the depth of her seemingly endless hatred for Jim’s stepfather. Even though the rational part of her understood the danger in hating somebody, her heart would not consider the possibility of forgiveness.

Jim had to smile at the fiercely protective tone of her voice. "Of course I had a choice—I was just young and stupid back then," he said gently, laying his hand on top of hers and giving it a squeeze.

To her complete surprise she felt her eyes fill up with tears. "You were never stupid," she replied, standing up and beginning to clear the table, her movements brisk and business-like until she felt steady again. "Stubborn I’ll buy, but stupid? Never!" she said, her voice back to normal again as she loaded the dishwasher at breakneck speed.

"Where’s the fire?" Jim asked, following her lead and adopting a more casual tone. He knew that Trixie hated when she fell apart, and over the years he’d come to accept that it was just her way to pretend that she wasn’t upset. Since she always shared the big stuff with him, he didn’t consider it worth getting into a fight over. As he was always telling his students, it was important to pick your battles.

She turned on the dishwasher before answering, brushing her hands briskly. "Well you know—wipe it off now or chip it off later!" She grinned at his look of pain. "Besides, I feel like bundling up and going for a long walk; what do you think?"

Jim stood up and walked over to her, drawing her close. "I think if I fall any more in love with you they’re going to have to administer oxygen," he said, kissing her neck, pressing into her so that the backs of her thighs made contact with the throbbing heat of the dishwasher.

"Smooth talker," she whispered, closing her eyes, tilting her head back to give him better access. She was suddenly and completely aroused, the newspaper article and Jim’s stepfather thoroughly wiped out of her mind as she arched up into him, his mouth capturing hers as she let out a soft moan. Things were just starting to get interesting when a sixth sense let Trixie know they weren’t alone. A little voice confirmed it.

"Mommy? I want to go outside," Katy said, tugging at her sweatpants. Trixie looked down into green eyes shaped just like hers.

"Little monkey! Fifteen hours of labor and this is the thanks I get?" Trixie replied, smiling ruefully down at her. Katy had just turned three, but her little personality was firmly in place already, and like both parents, she didn’t like staying indoors for very long.

Katy merely grinned, wrapping her arms around Trixie’s leg, wholly sure of herself.

"If she wants a little sister so bad, she’s sure going about it the wrong way," Jim whispered suggestively, causing Trixie to let out an unladylike snort of laughter. He bent down and scooped Katy up with one arm. "Get your jacket and we’ll go ‘sploring, as your Uncle Bobby used to say," he told her, kissing her cheek and setting her back down, smiling as she ran out of the room. "Have you ever noticed that kids never walk?" he mused. Before Trixie could answer, he pulled her back into his arms. "Now, where were we?"

Before their lips could meet the phone rang, startling them apart. "Geez, I guess the universe has spoken!" Trixie teased, biting back a laugh at the look of thwarted lust on Jim’s face. She took a brief moment to thank God that he still looked at her that way after all these years before picking up the phone.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end was tense. "Trixie? It’s Joeanne. Joeanne Darnell."

Trixie was so surprised she was unable to speak for a moment.

"This IS Trixie, isn’t it?" Joeanne’s voice sounded agitated, as if she couldn’t take one more surprise.

Trixie recovered her voice. "Yes! I’m sorry, you just surprised me, Joeanne!" Jim started at the name, exchanging an incredulous glance with Trixie. "How are you? God, it’s been awhile. I just read about you in the paper!" She couldn’t seem to stop the stream of exclamations that were pouring out of her mouth. She pressed the phone between her ear and Jim’s so he could hear too.

Joeanne let out a throaty chuckle. "It’s been too long," she agreed, her voice sounding more relaxed. "It’s so good to hear your voice, and I want to get completely caught up with you and Jim and Honey, but…" she broke off. Trixie could hear her voice catch a little, then heard a deep breath. "Damn it, I know I’m coming across as some kind of lunatic…"

"Joeanne, there’s no way I want to have the kind of conversation we need to have on the phone. Let’s get together—I’ll call Honey and…"

"Oh Trix, you’re a mind reader. I do need to see you. And Honey. I’m at my wit’s end, but I don’t want to go into it over the phone. I know it’s asking a lot, but could we meet today?"

"It’s not asking a lot—we’d love to see you. Do you want to come for dinner?"

There was a silence. Jim and Trixie looked at each other, concern in their eyes. This was not the calm and collected girl they remembered—Joeanne sounded like she was under a terrible strain, almost as if she could burst into tears at any moment. Trixie’s heart went out to the young woman.

"Jo…?" Trixie said gently.

"There is nothing I’d like more than to come over. You know I’ve never even met your little girl; I’ve only seen pictures? But Trixie, what I need to talk to you about, well…"

Trixie understood immediately. "You’re talking to a woman who spent years talking in code at the dinner table because of a certain younger brother!"

Joeanne’s laugh was relieved. "Thanks for understanding. I wish this could be a social visit, but to be perfectly honest, what I really need right now are the services of the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency."

Trixie couldn’t stop the tingle of excitement that shot up her spine, signaling the start of a new mystery. Her desire for a boring life long forgotten she replied, "Say no more."

Jim gave a wry smile. "I guess that leaves me out!" he jested into his side of the phone.

"Jim! Oh man, I do want to see you. Don’t do this to me!" It was obvious that Joeanne felt like a burden had been lifted and she was once more among friends. Jim wondered just what was going on, but decided to do the gallant thing.

"Don’t worry about a thing, Joeanne. Meet with my better half, get whatever mess you’re in straightened out and then come to dinner and tell me how you managed to get on with the Attorney General’s Office when you’re only 23 years old."

"I’ll be 24 next month!" Joeanne exclaimed, but there was a hint of laughter in her voice. "You’re not the only over-achiever in the world, you know!" Like Jim, she had skipped a few grades along the way, as well as finishing college, then law school, early.

Trixie and Joeanne quickly made arrangements to meet at a quiet bistro in White Plains in a few hours, Trixie hoping that she could get a hold of Honey in time.

"You don’t know what this means to me," Joeanne said, her voice deeply grateful.

Trixie could feel herself reddening—it always embarrassed her to be thanked so profusely. "You may be sorry you ever got us involved," she said, deflecting her gratitude.

Joeanne laughed, a warm sound that made whoever was hearing it want to laugh too. In spite of what she read in the paper, Trixie found herself very much looking forward to seeing her again. "Don’t forget—I’ve seen you and Honey in action first hand. There’s nobody else I’d rather have on my side. But Jim, if you’re still listening, I could have done without the crappy haircut!"

The three of them burst out laughing. Years ago, while on the run from his stepfather, Jim had come across Joeanne in the woods of upstate New York, her long hair hopelessly tangled in a bush. The only way to get her free was to chop off her pigtail with his pocketknife, leaving poor Joeanne with hair as short as a boy’s, not to mention horribly uneven.

"If you kept your hair short like mine, you wouldn’t have been in that predicament!" Jim chuckled. What a mess that had been!

They made their good-byes, Trixie quickly hanging up before she could thank her again. "Whew! Can you believe that?" she exclaimed, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Jim was shaking his head. "After all these years, I don’t know why I still get surprised when things like this happen," he said, putting her hands on her shoulders. He started laughing again, thinking about Joeanne’s hair. "God, poor Joeanne…she really did look awful. Even after Mrs. Smith evened it out." Mr. and Mrs. Smith owned the farm where Jim and Joeanne ended up staying at, Joeanne and her family continuing to live there after Jim returned to Sleepyside with Trixie and Honey.

Trixie smiled, remembering Joeanne looking just like a skinny little boy, but mostly remembering how incredibly happy she was to have found Jim safe and sound at the Smith’s farm. Wanting to avoid any further waterworks, she said, "You know, as long as I’ve known you, your hair has always been short. Don’t you ever feel like going a little wild and growing it long?" Her voice was teasing as she circled her arms around his waist.

Jim grinned. "You know, my real parents were considered hippies, but my Dad always had short hair too. And I can still hear his words of advice on the subject. Whenever I’d complain about getting my hair cut, he’d always say, ‘son, I’ve got just two words for you—Raggedy Andy!’"

Trixie laughed until she could hardly breathe, the mental image almost undoing her. I’ve got to tell Honey this one—she hasn’t laughed for days. "Honey! I’ve got to call Honey," she gasped suddenly. She lifted her hands and let them drop. "So much for us taking some time off."

Jim shook his head. "You would have been miserable anyway, shamus. Didn’t you tell me once you get cranky if you don’t have a mystery to investigate?"

Trixie batted her eyelashes and assumed an innocent air. "Why ah nevah get cranky!" she replied in her best Scarlett O’Hara accent. She was spared his reply by Katy running back into the kitchen letting them know in no uncertain terms that she’d been waiting forever and couldn’t they just please get going?

Trixie bent down and zipped her jacket up. "I can walk with you for a little while, but then I have to go help an old friend, okay sweetie?"

"Okay," Katy said agreeably. Although she had a fine little temper, an inevitable genetic inheritance from both parents, to Trixie’s relief she was a lot more reasonable than her Uncle Bobby had been as a child. Trixie shuddered as she remembered a few of Bobby’s more spectacular tantrums. Babysitting him had been one of her chores as a teenager, and it was often harder than all of her other chores put together.

She grabbed her jacket out of the hall closet, snagging her cellphone so she could call Honey and fill her in as they walked. I wonder why Joeanne’s so upset, and I wonder what she needs Honey and I to do? Her mind drifted back to their phone conversation as they made their way out the door, heading down a trail that soon took them into the stunning woods of the preserve. She had the suddenly uneasy feeling that whatever it was, it was not going to be easy.

***

Once upon a time Trixie and Honey had found the owner’s sister—as a result, they were always given the royal highness treatment at Jack’s Bistro. Joeanne Darnell was quietly amused at the quick way they were seated, despite the rather large Saturday lunch crowd, at a private table located in a discreet alcove. The dark wood and luminous lighting soothed her nerves, the white tablecloths, pretty tableware and fresh flowers only adding to the pleasing ambience.

"Apparently, you ladies have this town in your pocket," Joeanne said, her eyebrows lifting as she took a sip of ice water. She set the crystal goblet down. "I mean, there’s lemon in the water and everything!" She smiled at the two women; privately a little awed at the obvious respect they generated. Sure wish I could get some of that, she thought wistfully, then pushed the thought to the back of her mind. This was no time to feel sorry for herself. And anyway, respect was earned.

"Joeanne, you look positively wonderful," Honey said, an admiring expression flitting across her expressive face as she took in the smooth black hair cut in a chin length bob, large, almond shaped dark eyes and slim figure. Her detective’s eye also noticed the fatigue shadowing her features and the way her nails were chewed down to the quick. Far more patient than her best friend and business partner, Honey made up her mind to let the events unfold, sure that all would eventually be revealed.

The young woman grinned, her face momentarily losing its worried look. "Well, when you start out skinny as a rake with wiry hair, one can only go up!"

The three women chatted as they looked over the menu, giving each other the condensed version of their lives. Joeanne sighed as she closed her menu. "I wish we could just spend all day talking about what we’ve been doing, but…"

Trixie closed her own menu with a snap. "Obviously, with you living in White Plains, we’ve got plenty of time for that. Let’s order and then you can let us know what you need us to do." Her obvious support made Joeanne feel for the first time that she might actually be able to handle what was coming. The attentive waiter, noticing that the menus had been laid aside, quickly took their orders and left.

Honey took a notebook out of her purse and they gazed at Joeanne expectantly, their alert expressions and just the fact that they were taking her seriously, lifting her spirits.

"You’ve both read the newspaper article?" she began. At their nods of confirmation, she continued, "Then I’ll just get right down to what I need. The trial starts in only a week—I’m going to be up to by eyeballs preparing for it, and there’s only so much I can do. I need private investigators to dig up whatever dirt they can on the mother. Talk to doctors, nurses, neighbors, anybody who has ever known her. Find out whatever you can that may be relevant." She broke off, her face tightening. "Right now, I’ve just got nothing. Even the district attorney won’t touch it."

Honey phrased the question as delicately as she knew how. "Then why are you touching it? Joeanne, if we’re going to help you, we need to know." Trixie silently applauded Honey’s usual gift for smooth tact. The question was so gently asked. Honey leaned forward and lightly touched Joeanne’s arm.

"I know it sounds like a witch hunt. They…they didn’t really want the case either. They threw it to the new kid because they don’t take it seriously."

"But you do," Trixie said flatly. It was not a question.

"Yes," Joeanne replied softly, a haunted look in her eyes. She was silent as unbidden memories suffused her, almost overwhelming her with their intensity. She ruthlessly pushed them back into the dark. "I visited the baby in the hospital and talked to the mother. Something just isn’t right. And ever since Sammy’s been in the hospital and away from his mother, he’s improved. He’s only six months old—he deserves a chance at a good life."

"But couldn’t that be just the doctor’s care?" Trixie asked, her voice calm. She didn’t want to be hurtful, but there was a child’s life at stake. And understanding the mother-child bond as well as she did, there was no way she could help if she thought it was being compromised.

"It’s more than that. It’s the way she’s acting. I’ve been reading up on Maunchausen by Proxy syndrome, and she fits the profile."

Honey, who had minored in Psychology, was nodding. "I remember learning about that in school. Has the court appointed a psychiatrist to meet with her?"

"Yes. That’s how I found out about it." Anticipating Honey’s next question, she went on, "And she feels that’s what she has. But naturally, the mother hired her own doctor, who says she doesn’t."

"Forgive my ignorance, but what in the hell is Munch…whatever you just said?" Trixie broke in.

"Do you want the long version or the short version?" Honey asked seriously.

Trixie smiled at her sister-in-law. "Do you even have to ask?"

Honey returned the smile; Trixie disturbed to realize it was the first smile she’d seen out of the normally cheerful woman in awhile. I’ve just gotta get her to tell me what’s wrong!

"The short version it is. Oh, it’s just awful, Trixie. In a nutshell, it’s when a mother deliberately keeps her child sick or hurt just to get the attention. It can go on for months or even years—the poor child shuttled from doctor to doctor, one illness after the other." Honey shuddered, remembering some of the case stories she’d studied at NYU.

Trixie was aghast. "You have got to be kidding. What kind of a sick…"

"That’s just it. Sick. It’s a mental illness. These women are usually the most charming women in the world. Everybody feels so sorry for them; oh the poor brave mother, she’s been so wonderful." Joeanne’s voice was low with disgust.

Trixie was shaking her head. "Okay, the first thing I need to do is read up on this whatsit. Then I need to visit Sammy and his mother for myself. I’m sorry Joeanne, but that’s how has to be." Her eyes were gentle, but her voice was firm. Honey echoed her sentiments, hoping that she understood.

She did. "Ladies, I wouldn’t have it any other way. If our positions were reversed I’d feel exactly the same way. We’ll head over there as soon as we eat." She gave them a wan smile. "Believe me, we need to keep our strength up." The waiter approached their table, steaming plates expertly balanced in his capable hands. Joeanne bent down quickly, her dark hair swinging in her face as she snapped open her briefcase. She straightened, quickly flicking the errant strands out of her way. "I’ll just say one more quick thing." She handed a photograph of a baby to Trixie, who held it so that she and Honey could study it together. The baby was tiny; its little face wrinkled and a bit pinched, obviously a newborn.

"Don’t you have a current picture?" Trixie asked. She and Honey gasped in horror at Joeanne’s reply.

"This is a picture that was taken of Sammy a few weeks ago when he was first brought in to the hospital," she said sadly.

Trixie was silent, hardly noticing the food set before her as she looked at the picture. An image of a robust and healthy Katy at six months floated into her mind and she felt sick, her appetite suddenly gone. Sammy looks even worse than Baby Dodge! she thought, remembering a long ago adventure when her brother Brian found an abandoned baby in Reddy’s doghouse. Helping reunite this baby with his family was one of the most satisfying mysteries she had ever been involved in. She looked up to find Joeanne studying her, an almost ancient sadness making her eyes look like black holes. I was right—this isn’t going to be easy. And I wonder why Joeanne is taking this case so personally? And what’s got Honey so upset? She stared down into her plate, wishing that answers could be ordered just as easily as the chicken Picata she no longer had the appetite to eat.

Dr. Brian Belden barely acknowledged the doorman’s greeting as he wearily entered the Manhattan apartment building he and his wife had lived in since they were married. Although his father-in-law wanted to give the spacious flat to the pair, Matthew Wheeler had settled for renting it to them at an under-market rate, secretly admiring Brian for his quietly respectful refusal.

The doorman stared after him with concern—the young doctor usually chatted with him for a few moments, one of the few tenants who ever bothered to do so. He shook his head—in his 65 years he’d seen that look before, it was the look of a man who’s been to hell and wasn’t all the way back. He sent up a little prayer to watch over his obviously troubled soul as the elevator door closed behind him.

Brian unlocked the door, tossing his keys in the general direction of the antique table he and Honey had found and restored together, shrugging out of his jacket.

"Brian, is that you?" Honey’s voice called from the direction of the living room.

"Who else would it be?" he muttered as he hung his jacket in the entryway closet. He had the sudden childish urge to hide himself in the dark depths, allowing the cool blackness to close over him, shutting out all care and responsibility.

"Is something wrong?" Honey’s voice was suddenly right behind him, causing him to jump slightly as he shut the door with more force than was necessary. He looked into the worried eyes of his wife and fought the urge to throw himself into her arms. Once he went down that road he was afraid there would be no turning back—after a day like today, there was no telling how strong his hold on sanity was.

"Brian, I wish you’d talk to me," Honey said, laying her hand on his arm. Her touch was so dear, so familiar. He could feel moisture well up in his eyes, and savagely forced his emotions back under control.

"Honey, please. I’ve had the day from…I just need to…" He seemed unable to form a coherent sentence as they walked into the living room and he sank down on the couch. Honey stood over him uncertainly—he didn’t seem to want her around, but how could she just walk away from him when he was so obviously hurting? She ignored the tight feeling in her chest and tried again.

"Isn’t there anything I can do?" she asked, sitting beside him, but not touching him.

"No," he replied shortly.

"Are you hungry?"

Instead of answering, he shook his head. Then, as if realizing how distraught Honey was becoming, he turned to her. "But you probably are. Let’s go to Bella Mia’s and you can get some of that angel hair pasta you like so much." His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

"I’m not hungry either," she said quietly.

Brian looked at her sharply, biting his lip at the pale look of her normally rosy face. He put an arm around her shoulders, almost welcoming the chance to get the focus off of him. "Did you have a hard day too?"

Honey sighed, although whether it was the change of subject or because she was considering his question, he couldn’t tell. "This case we’re on sickens me, Brian. It just really, really sickens me." She pressed closer, hoping that physical closeness would lead to the mental closeness she so desperately needed from him. If he didn’t share what was bothering him, if he continued to be closed to her, how could their marriage stand a chance?

Brian nodded sympathetically. "It’s never easy dealing with the reality that there are people out there who are capable of child abuse. We get kids in all the time who are victims of their parents’ misplaced anger." He gave Honey a crooked smile. "Then I hang around Jim and Trixie, or Mart and Diana and get to see the other side of the spectrum, thank god."

The longing welled up in her so strongly, that she thought it would consume her. She was unable to halt the tide of words that burst from her. "Oh Brian, I know what you mean. I love being around Katy, Peter and David. They mean so much to me, and I can’t help thinking about what it will be like when we…"

"We’re not having that conversation again, are we?" Brian asked sharply. He felt overwhelmed with everything he had been thinking about for the past few months. Combined with what happened today, he didn’t think he could bear it, feeling as if he would fly apart. Honey’s face became even paler, and it was as if a knife had entered his chest and twisted. He suddenly realized how he must have sounded. I’m behaving like such an asshole. There’s no way she could know how painful this conversation is because I haven’t been able to tell her…

"We have to have this conversation, Brian Belden! Why do you keep avoiding talking about us starting a family? Why are you shutting me out like this?" Honey’s chest was heaving as she practically wailed the words aloud. A small part of her was aware that she was becoming hysterical, but there didn’t seem to be anything she could do about it. She had spent a mostly unproductive day talking to Mrs. Lewis’s divorce lawyer, then her former landlord and was worried that if she didn’t find enough information for Joeanne, Sammy would end up back with a mother who seemed bent on his destruction. And now this…

She took a deep breath, visibly calming herself. "I’m sorry if I yelled, but Brian, I thought you wanted the same things I wanted."

"I don’t know if I do anymore," he said, his voice so quiet she had to strain to hear him.

"I can’t believe you’re saying that. You’ve obviously had a horrible day, and…" She looked at him sadly, her smile watery. "Gosh, can you believe Katy is three years old already? And Peter and David…"

"This isn’t a competition," Brian snapped, immediately wishing he could take the words back.

Honey went very still, feeling as if a malevolent force had sucked every last particle of air in her body out. She rose to her feet and left the room without saying a word.

 

Oh God, that was bad. That was very, very bad, Brian thought, deeply ashamed. An overwhelming fatigue filled him and he lowered his face in his hands, wondering what in the hell he was going to do. He couldn’t talk about the darkness that was looming into every corner of his being; how could he? He knew once she knew what he was thinking, she’d be devastated. She may even hate him. And Brian didn’t know if he’d be able to live if that happened. He scrubbed his face wearily, letting out a groan. Things couldn’t get any worse.

Honey walked back into the room, silently stepping by him as she headed for the front door, a small suitcase in her hand.

"Honey…" Brian’s voice was hoarse as his brain registered the unthinkable. He stumbled to his feet, catching up with her as she touched the doorknob.

Honey paused, looking over her shoulder, her face so shattered he lost his breath. "You break my heart," she whispered as she left the apartment, the soft click of the door closing resonating through Brian’s very soul as she left him all alone.

*     *     *

Trixie slowly opened her eyes. Yes, there it was again, a very light tapping coming from downstairs. A burglar wouldn’t knock! she thought as she carefully slid out of bed and padded downstairs, yawning broadly. Her heart picked up speed as she suddenly wondered if it was Dan, and that Mr. Maypenny was sick. Don’t be stupid—he’s had a phone for ages, she admonished herself as she cautiously opened the door.

"Honey!" she gasped, noting the red, watery eyes and the suitcase all in one moment. She stood back so her best friend could enter, shutting the door softly.

"I’ve left him," she said, setting down the suitcase and bursting into tears.

"Oh Honey," was all she could think to say as she put her arms around her, rocking her as she would Katy, not knowing what else to do. She led her over to the couch and sat her down, patting her back. She instinctively knew not to ask any questions.

Honey finally stopped crying and straightened up. "I’m sorry…I know it’s late," she said softly.

Trixie waved a hand. "I don’t care about that, silly." She handed Honey a wad of Kleenex, silent as the distraught woman blew her nose.

"I thought about going to Mart and Diana’s—I guess it would have made more sense since we both live in the city, but…" Honey’s voice choked and she swiped her eyes with the balled up tissue. "You and Jim are the most important people in my life," Honey whispered. Besides Brian…she covered her eyes as the tears started up again.

"Dang it woman, now you’ve got me going," Trixie exclaimed as she felt telltale moisture fill her own eyes.

Honey let out a little laugh. "Is there ever going to come a time when you don’t hate crying?" she asked, blowing her nose again.

Trixie smiled ruefully. "Probably not." The two sat in silence for a moment, jumping a little as the heater came on with a whoosh.

"Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?" Honey said abruptly.

"Nope," Trixie said flatly. At Honey’s surprised look she added gently, "There’s plenty of time for that, and you’re not up to it right now." As Honey looked at her gratefully, she added, "Why don’t you go to bed and try and get some rest? The guest room’s all yours, for as long as you need it." For the first time she wondered about Brian—he must be going insane, she thought sadly. She pushed the thought aside, helping Honey to her feet. "C’mon," she said, leading her to the downstairs master bedroom. Her family always had a nice guestroom set up at Crabapple Farm, and she and Jim decided to continue the tradition when they had this house built. It even had its own fireplace, as did their room upstairs.

She pulled back the down comforter for her, grinning at her sister-in-law as she got into the large bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. "Katy likes Beatle songs—do you have any preference?"

Honey smiled. "Goodnight Trix. And thank you."

"You’re welcome. ‘Night," Trixie replied, closing the door gently behind her. Her steps were slow as she made her way upstairs, her mind in turmoil. She thought about Honey and she thought about the big brother she practically worshipped and she didn’t know what to do.

She walked softly into Katy’s room, but luckily she was still fast asleep, her face buried against the stuffed pony Regan had given her for her third birthday. She re-tucked the covers around her, brushing the side of her forehead with a soft kiss before she returned to her own room.

She crawled back under the covers, deeply troubled. She couldn’t imagine Brian and Honey apart—it made about as much sense as Brian going off and becoming a Hare Krishna. In spite of her worry she almost giggled at the thought of her sensible older brother shaving his head and dancing at airports.

"Am I dreaming or did I hear my sister’s voice downstairs?" Jim asked sleepily, a huge yawn almost cracking his jaw in two.

"Honey’s left Brian," she said flatly.

"What?!" The sleepy tone fled his voice as he turned onto his side, facing her. This was huge. In a million years he would never have imagined such a thing coming to pass. It was as unlikely as…he suddenly felt a chill descend from his chest into his belly. If this could happen, anything, no matter how unthinkable, was possible.

"Well, that’s what she claims. Translation, they had a big fight." Trixie’s voice was aggrieved. "It must have been a doozy for her to take off like that." Concern for her best friend and love for her brother was clearly battling for position.

He pushed the hair out of her face in a caressing gesture. "Don’t get in the middle; they have to work it out for themselves." He spoke as if trying to convince himself as well.

"I know," she sighed.

"Taking sides will only make it worse."

"I know," she repeated, a slight edge to her voice.

"Sorry."

They were both silent while they thought about Brian and Honey. Trixie’s heart ached at the thought of them breaking up.

"Hey…" Jim’s voice came whispering over to her in the darkness.

"Hmmm?"

"If I tick you off, I’d rather you slug me one." Trixie recognized the carefully neutral tone for what it was and felt a rush of love for the man lying beside her.

"But baby, you’d be black and blue," she joked, scooting closer, playfully tangling her legs with his. You’ve got nothing to worry about—I wouldn’t last five minutes.

"Fine. Just don’t ever leave me," he said, his voice no longer casual, sliding his arm under her pillow, rolling her into him. The rational part of him knew he was being ridiculous, but the spider-webby, dinosaur section of his brain would not be silenced.

"I’m not going anywhere, silly," she whispered, nuzzling into the side of his neck. "And neither is Honey. After she’s had time to cool off, I’m sure they’ll work it out." She pressed her face into his throat. "And anyway, I went to a lot of trouble finding you!" She stayed close, sensing he needed it. She’d almost drifted off to sleep when he spoke again.

"Thank you," Jim said, kissing the top of her head.

"For what?" she replied sleepily.

"For being…" he stopped, lacking Mart’s forte with words. Her unconditional love was such an amazing gift—he’d observed the way other men hid their vulnerabilities, never expressing their inner demons, and knew that with Trixie, he never had to worry about reprisals, that she would never use self-doubts, or baggage from the past, as a weapon. His mind drifted back to their wedding day—right from the very beginning of their marriage, in the limo on the way to their honeymoon, she held nothing back…

 

He had pulled her close, burying his face in her hair. "I can’t believe you’re finally my wife."

She melted against him, the feel of him a slice of heaven. "And I can’t believe you ever doubted this day would come. Don’t you know I’ve been completely, hopelessly, unbelievably in love with you since the day we met? There’s never been anybody for me but you. Never."

He wondered if there was anybody on earth who had a more generous heart than this woman he now held. He doubted it. "There’s never been anybody else for me either." He gave a little laugh and held her tighter. "When I first went away to school, and went out with those women, I actually thought something was wrong with me because I felt…nothing. Imagine my surprise when I kissed you and felt everything!"

Trixie smiled. "Guess you’re a one bracelet guy!"

"Why I ever thought I should go out with other people is beyond me," he said in honest puzzlement, his mind hazy when he tried to recall his past reasoning.

"And why I ever pulled my sleeve down to hide that bracelet is beyond me," she said wryly. "What a pair we were. You’re right—I can’t believe I’m finally your wife either!" She hit the intercom button to speak to the driver, causing Jim to laugh as she exclaimed. "Hey buddy—can’t you drive any faster?!"

"For being you," he said at last. Jim suddenly pictured Brian, all alone in the middle of the night, wondering if Honey’d left him for good. "Do me a favor—tell me I’m being an idiot," he murmured into her ear.

"Okay…you’re an idiot."

"Tell me I have nothing to be afraid of."

"You have nothing to fear."

"So basically, I’m a fearful idiot," Jim finished, but he was smiling.

Trixie smiled too and put her arms around him. "My idiot," she said, kissing him. "It’s the quiet ones like Honey you have to watch out for. And I’m anything but quiet. So see—you’ve got nothing to worry about!"

"Speak for yourself," he muttered, then sighed when Honey turned beseeching hazel eyes on him. "I just want to help," he said, Honey’s situation unbearable to him.

"Well, you can’t," Honey replied, not unkindly. "Some things just can’t be fixed." She set Katy down and slowly walked out of the room.

"This really sucks," Trixie said simply. She got a head of lettuce out of the refrigerator and started tearing it apart, attacking the leaves with gusto.

"I have half a mind to give Brian a little visit," Jim said grimly. Brian was his best friend, but if he hurt his sister he was going to have a hard time remembering that.

"Calm down, Underdog. Honey isn’t Sweet Polly Purebread, and Brian isn’t Simon Barsinister!" Trixie exclaimed, as she started chopping up radishes and cucumbers. "Besides, Brian’s coming to the school for the annual check up at the end of the week, which is a prime opportunity for some big time digging. By me—I don’t trust you not to lose your temper," she finished firmly.

Jim was about to make a retort about her infamous temper, when he realized that she was probably right. "Maybe it won’t even be necessary," he said hopefully, helping himself to a radish.

"I hope not." Trixie said, scraping all her salad ingredients into a large bowl. Her voice was hopeful, but her blue eyes were troubled. "I really hope not."

 

Chapter 10

Considering how the evening ended, Trixie was beyond glad that they all enjoyed the before so much.

Dan showed up in his usual black, prompting the eternal question, "Don’t you have any other colors in your wardrobe?" to which he replied, "Sure…denim!" He nodded in appreciation at the dreamy guitar sounds emanating from the stereo—music from his private collection that he had taped for Trixie some time ago. After a drunk driver killed his father one night while returning home from one of his studio sessions, Dan’s mother had been too grief stricken to ever listen to the music her husband had been recording in his free time ever again. Dan found the set of tapes among his mom’s belongings after she passed away, and considered them to be among his prize possessions.

Joeanne showed up right after, everybody amused that she too was dressed almost entirely in black.

"Don’t tell me it’s your signature color too," Jim said, still privately reeling from how grown up Joeanne had become. She was a million miles away from the wiry little girl whose pigtails he once chopped off.

"Not really. This is just one of my ‘look at how grown up I am, you can trust me’ outfits I wear to work. I lost track of the time and didn’t have time to change," she replied ruefully. She wondered how long it was going to take for everybody to stop treating her like a female Dougie Howser.

"Does it work?" Dan asked, secretly thinking how much the short skirt was working for him.

"Ve shall zee," she replied, accepting the glass of wine that Trixie handed her. She looked down at the little girl who was studying her. "And this can only be one person!" She smiled with pleasure at the picture of health Katy made. After seeing Sammy fight for his life, it was like wrapping up in the world’s softest blanket to look at her. "She’s so beautiful," she said, with the merest hint of longing.

Katy lifted her arms and Joeanne handed her glass to Dan, promptly picking her up. "You know, that’s what I love about little kids—they don’t spend a lot of time worrying about rejection. Remember how Sally was?" she asked Trixie, referring to her little sister who, at age 17, wasn’t really so little anymore. She settled Katy on her hip as she leaned her head contentedly on her shoulder.

Trixie smiled secretly as she recalled Dan making an almost identical comment. "I sure do," she replied with a laugh, remembering the bold little girl who had befriended herself and Honey.

Honey laughed. "That was one cute little girl. Does she still have Bud?" Sally was so taken with Honey’s little black puppy back then, Honey ended up giving her the dog before they returned home.

"Believe it or not, yes. Bud’s 13 years old and still going," Joeanne replied.

"Sure wish I could say the same about Patch," Jim replied, referring to his beloved Springer Spaniel who’d died just last year. It was still hard for him to talk about, and he hadn’t yet been able to bring himself to get another dog.

"Yeah…I really miss that dog," Trixie put in, hugging him. She would never forget the look on Jim’s face when they found him, not if she lived for a hundred more years.

Over dinner, Joeanne talked about her life on the Smith farm, speaking of Mary and Nat Smith with fondness. "It was wonderful living with them. I don’t think two kinder people have ever lived. Even after Dad got his own place, we always seemed to end up there for Sunday dinner." She smiled at Jim and Trixie. "She’d be real excited to know I was having dinner with you."

"We haven’t gone to visit them in so long. And we should—what a cook!" Jim reminisced, remembering the enormous dinners made only from food grown and raised on the farm. "Not that your cooking is bad," he added hastily to Trixie. As if trying to prove his sincerity, he took an enormous bite of his lasagna and almost choked.

"Ha! Good thing you threw that in," Trixie said mildly after ascertaining that the Heimlich maneuver wasn’t needed.

Joeanne grinned at the exchange. "That Mary is one smart cookie. Did you know she always knew the two of you were going to end up together?" Her eyes grew soft as she recalled the woman she had never successfully kept anything from for long.

"Really? That’s so cool—most of what I know about that time is from Mart’s book," Dan said, interested. Ever since Katy was born, Mart had been writing stories for her about the adventures his sister got them all into when they were growing up. His first book told about Trixie and Honey finding Jim in his great uncle’s mansion, and the "series" went on from there. Dan was amused that he hadn’t even been introduced yet as a "character", and Mart had already completed four books!

"Ah yes, the book. Mart and I talked on the phone for over three hours one night while he grilled me for information," Joeanne recalled. The smile on her face when she looked at him made Dan feel like his lungs weren’t functioning properly. "Mary always says she’ll never forget the look on Trixie’s face when Jim came walking up the path," Joeanne finished, causing a blush to creep over Trixie’s face. "I didn’t tell Mart that part," she added unnecessarily.

"Isn’t that sweeeeeet?" Dan crooned, causing Trixie to kick him under the table.

"Do you still keep in touch with them?" Jim asked, giving Dan a ‘you should talk’ look.

"Oh yes. They’re like grandparents to me. Especially Mary—I always felt like I could tell her anything. She was a rock during my ‘Junior High Horrors’, I’ll tell you!" Joeanne made it sound like a Creature Feature.

"Junior High horrors?" Honey asked. Life had been good at Sleepyside Junior-Senior High for her. In fact, it was the first time in her academic life she ever felt at home anywhere.

Joeanne was surprised at the tightening sensation in her gut—she thought she had left those days far behind her. Days of being two years younger than everybody else, spending lunchtime in the library wishing she had a group to eat with… "Try being eleven in the eighth grade!" she said wryly, leaving it at that.

"Hello!" Jim said, raising his hand and giving it an ironic wave. "Been there!"

"What happened, did you get pushed into lockers or something?" Dan asked, interested. Jim never talked much about his past either. It sometimes seemed like he didn’t even exist before he came to Sleepyside.

"No, nothing like that. It’s just that most of the guys in my classes were interested in certain things, and I wasn’t. I mean I was interested, but not in the same way they were," Jim replied, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "Let’s just say it was an awkward time and leave it at that!"

"Ohhhhhh," Dan said, his eyebrows lifting in understanding as everybody smiled.

The three women left Jim and Dan to load the dishwasher while they relaxed in the living room, quickly filling Joeanne in on what little they had turned up so far. "I’m sorry Jo—I’m mostly getting a lot of "how dare you’s" with a few "Deb deserves the mother of the year award’s" thrown in," Trixie said, Honey nodding her head in agreement. Deborah Lewis’s brave-yet-strong act would never fool either one of them again, not after Trixie’s talk with the level headed nurse.

"If we could only get some physical evidence, I think the nurse’s testimony would be enough," Joeanne said wistfully. "But so far, the doctor is baffled."

"I know," Trixie replied. "My ex college roommate works for the DA’s office in San Francisco—I emailed her for advice and she said the same thing about the evidence." She smiled at the thought of Kerry, who had fulfilled her dream of becoming a district attorney. She wished she hadn’t moved so far away. "But she did suggest a concealed camera. Ceiling cameras can record a wide range of movement, and they can be easily hidden in hospital rooms."

Joeanne nodded. "My Supervisor suggested the same thing and we were able to get a court order yesterday afternoon. It was installed early this morning." She looked grim. "If, God forbid, Mrs. Lewis tries anything and we catch it on camera…" she didn’t need to finish the sentence.

"It sounds illegal," Honey mused, stroking Katy’s curls as she climbed into her lap.

"Well, getting a court order for videotaping is a lot less complicated when the request omits sound. Judges don’t have to consider wire tap laws," Joeanne explained.

Jim and Dan joined them and they dropped all talk about the case—by silent agreement all needing an evening free of unpleasantness. Honey leaned back in her chair, letting the conversation swirl around her, adding the occasional comment. She wondered if Brian missed her and if he was sorry for what he said. She couldn’t believe it had only been 24 hours since she left—her entire body ached with loneliness and the thought of another night without him was daunting. God get a hold of yourself—you slept alone for years, after all! Honey thought, feeling slightly ridiculous. She had never realized how accustomed she’d become to the physical aspects of sharing sleep with another person—and how empty it feels when it’s gone. She welcomed Katy’s warm weight, cuddling her niece closer.

"This music is so wonderful," Joeanne sighed. She stretched luxuriously, clearly relaxed and even happy. "If I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was Tim Mangan." She grinned at Dan who was stretched out flat on the floor in front of the fire. "I meant to tell you the other day, you have the same last name as my favorite jazz guitarist."

Dan sat up, a slow smile spreading across his face. "It is Tim Mangan," he said, referring to the music.

Joeanne frowned. "How can that be? I thought I owned everything he ever did." She shook her head. "Damn! Am I going to have to hit Ebay again?"

"You own everything he did?" Dan asked. He couldn’t understand how that could be—his father had never recorded under his own name, although it had been his dream. He was a well-respected studio musician who was paid for his sessions, but given no royalties. Before Dan was born, he’d even traveled with some of the bands when they performed on the road, but surely he wasn’t well known…

"Well, I mean I know what albums he played on and I have them all. Or so I thought," she added ruefully. She lifted her hands and let them drop. "Hey, everybody needs a hobby!"

Trixie, Honey and Jim exchanged incredulous glances. Not only was this an unbelievable coincidence, it was revealing a part of Dan’s past that even Dan himself was unaware of. He was only eight years old when his father died, and his mother never talked much about her husband’s life in music. Dan knew that she blamed the lifestyle for his death—if he hadn’t have gone to a late night recording session, he wouldn’t have been killed. He had never pushed her, and after she died when he was 13, he made the decision to leave the past in the past.

"Is something wrong?" Joeanne asked when the room filled with silence. She searched her mind for anything offensive she might have said and came up blank.

"No, it’s just, well, you surprised me. You see, Tim Mangan is, was, my father." Dan’s voice seemed loud in the stillness.

Joeanne’s jaw dropped. "He is? Really? I don’t believe it!"

Dan recovered his poise. "Think I’m making it up?" he joked, even though he was still incredulous at the idea of somebody actually being a fan of his father’s work.

"Well, no, but supposedly you died in that, um, accident too." When everybody stared at her, she added, "It’s part of the official biography."

"There’s an official biography?" Trixie asked. She glanced at Dan who gave a ‘never heard of it’ shrug.

"Oh yeah! And obviously, it’s wrong. Dan, I’m getting the distinct feeling that this is going to shock the c…" she thought of Katy and amended, "heck out of you, but there’s an official Tim Mangan website too. I go on it all the time—it’s for other diehards like me. That’s where I read about, well, what I said before."

Dan jumped up. "This I have got to see. Will you show me?"

His face was so lit up with eagerness that it almost hurt her to look at him. She fought the urge to throw her arms around him, instead saying, "Sure. Of course; I’ll show you right now."

"I’ll get my laptop!" Trixie cried and dashed from the room, returning only moments later out of breath with excitement. She had always thought it was a mistake for Dan not to find out more about his dad—she was gladder than ever that she had decided to throw the impromptu party.

They all gathered around Joeanne as Trixie placed the computer in her lap, watching as she typed in ‘http://barbln.cygnus.org/timmangan.htm’ "Look at that!" Dan said in amazement as a picture of his father phased into view with a menu list of options. "I can’t believe there are actually people who are interested in this."

"Believe it, Dan. There’s even a few people from Australia who come here. We leave inspirational messages for each other, exchange recordings and even…" she broke off, suddenly embarrassed.

"What?" Dan asked. He studied her blushing cheeks, drinking in the scent of violets that clung to her slender body, and suddenly he didn’t care that he usually didn’t get serious over women. He didn’t care about anything except seeing her again.

Her heart slammed wildly at her rib cage, the expression on his face making her forget that she wasn’t going to get involved with anybody for a long time, maybe never. She finally remembered that he asked her a question. "I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but we debate about the music a lot, you know, which work we like best and why, and stuff like that." She let a smile widen on her face. "In a way, we even debate about you," she said with a mischievous look at Dan.

"Me? What do you mean?"

"Oh, every few months or so the question gets raised again: is his music better after he had a family, or was it better before?"

Jim laughed. "Are you serious?"

Joeanne blushed again. "You all probably think we’re crazy, don’t you?"

"Not me. I found a Lucy Radcliffe fan site a few years ago and I go there all the time," Trixie confessed.

Dan wasn’t listening—he was too busy clicking on the different options. He clicked on the list of titles and was stunned as the song and album titles seemed to go on and on. "Wow, look at all of this!" His voice was proud as he noticed all the well know groups his Dad had played with. "And you have every one of these?" he asked Joeanne.

"Yep. Some I bought, some I traded and some I recorded off of jazz stations. My college radio station got so tired of me calling in requests they threatened to send me a bill," she said cheerfully. She cleared her throat, adding casually, "I’ll have to play some for you, sometime." It won’t really be a date, I’m just being nice. Oh who are you trying to kid! Joeanne gazed at Dan for a moment, wanting with every cell in her body to lean over, put her hands on his face and kiss his mouth. She saw in the sudden darkening of his eyes that he would like that, too.

And both of them, at the same time, turned away.

Trixie noticed the silent exchange, and it took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to make a teasing remark. She wondered why Dan and Joeanne were expending such large amounts of energy fighting their obvious attraction and was thankful yet again that she was married and didn’t have to play those kinds of games.

Then she frowned; she had a good idea why Dan was fighting it. She understood too well how the death of Dan’s parents had influenced him, how deeply rooted Dan’s fear of loss was. It’s interesting how two people can go through the same kind of trauma and be affected so differently, she mused. For Jim, the loss of his parents was manifested in the form of over-protective worry, what Trixie privately thought of as ‘mother bearcubitis’. Before she fully understood this, it used to drive her absolutely insane when he would beg her to be careful.

"Where did this come from?" Joeanne asked, indicating the music playing with a tilt of her dark head.

"Apparently, my dad recorded it in the months before he died. He wanted to be a solo artist, and I think he could have been if…" Dan broke off, his mouth tightening as he thought about the careless individual who, with one wanton act, destroyed an entire family. "If he hadn’t have died."

"God, the people on the board would have an attack if they heard this. It’s so good, Dan."

"I’ll make a copy for you if you like."

"Would you?" Joeanne breathed, starry eyed. Dan wondered if there was anything he could ever refuse this woman and doubted it.

"Sure," he managed. He felt Honey eyeing him and was thankful that unlike Trixie, he wasn’t prone to blushing.

"Sure," Jim whispered to Trixie, making her smile. She leaned into him and whispered back, "I wouldn’t make too much fun if I was you, Big Daddy Jim!" She wasn’t the only Bob White who was amused at the way a certain little girl had her father completely wrapped around her finger. It was probably just as well that she didn’t realize that everybody was also enjoying the sweet and soft side of her own personality that had emerged since Katy was born.

She was spared Jim’s reply by the faint ringing of her cellphone coming from her purse. She rose from the sofa, leaving Dan and Joeanne glued to the computer as she walked over to the table by the door, quickly answering it.

"Trixie? It’s Meggie." The young woman’s voice was anxious and Trixie could hear the sounds of hospital pages in the background.

"Oh my God, what is it?" she gasped, causing everybody to look at her with concern. She closed her eyes at the reply.

"I’m not sure. Something’s wrong with Sammy."

 

Chapter 11

They all wanted to go, but somebody had to stay behind. Katy decided it in the end when she threw her arms around Honey’s legs, tearfully begging her "not to go yet, Auntie!" It was easy to see that although she didn’t understand what was happening, she was frightened of the change in mood.

Promising to call Honey as soon as they knew what was going on, they all gave the little girl reassuring hugs before piling into Jim’s Tahoe, making it to the White Plains hospital in record time. Joeanne spoke to the attending on duty and was able to find out that Sammy had what appeared to be a seizure, but was now holding his own.

"This is your fault!" Deborah Lewis screamed as soon as she saw Joeanne getting off of the elevator. She rose from her chair in the waiting room, standing in front of them. "If my son was at home, if he wasn’t being kept from me…" She noticed the doctor entering the room and walked away, practically throwing herself at him. "What’s happening? What’s wrong with my child?"

Joeanne felt an icy sensation low in her stomach. Could there possibly be any truth to the woman’s statements? Was she, Joeanne, the cause of Sammy’s current condition? What if she was wrong? She went very still, unconsciously letting out a little moan. Strong fingers twined through hers and she gripped Dan’s hand tightly, unable to deny how right the feeling was even through her misery.

"She’s full of crap," Dan whispered, easily reading her expression.

"Dan’s right," Trixie hissed. "It’s part of her act." Jim looked slightly sick at the thought of it all just being a performance.

The simple statements were enough to bring her back to herself. "Thank you," she whispered. She reluctantly released Dan’s hand, walking over to where the doctor and Mrs. Lewis stood. "How is Sammy?" she asked, her dark eyes serious.

The doctor looked at her with thinly veiled contempt. "He’s going to be fine. When the nurse responded to the call button, he was shaking uncontrollably. We were able to stabilize his condition and now he’s resting comfortably." As Joeanne sighed with relief, he turned to the distraught mother. "You need to get some rest, Debbie. I know you don’t like to hear it, but you really need to go home."

Mrs. Lewis smiled bravely. "You know I can’t bear to leave him. Can’t I just catnap in the waiting room until he wakes up?"

The doctor laid a hand on her shoulder. "I’m sorry this is happening. I’ll do everything I can for your little boy." Unlike you his expression seemed to say as his gaze raked Joeanne. With his dark hair shot through with silver and gray eyes, he looked like the ultimate authority figure. Joeanne almost felt like a naughty child, and swiftly reminded herself again that she had a professional right to be here.

He waited until Mrs. Lewis had walked to a nearby chair before speaking. "Anything else?" he asked coldly.

Joeanne straightened. "There damn well is. I’ll need a full report on what happened this evening, and you know it. May I remind you, doctor, that you are under court order to cooperate with the Attorney General’s Office?" She kept her tone icily professional.

"Fine," was all he said. He started to walk away when Joeanne stopped him. "Doctor Uniat, I only want what’s best for Sammy. I know you don’t believe that, but it’s true." There was something in her voice that got through to him and he softened slightly.

"I know you believe that. I want it too, but I have to wonder if keeping a mother and son apart is the answer," he responded. "Especially after what she’s been through."

Joeanne knew that attacking Mrs. Lewis would get her nowhere with this man. "What do you think is wrong, doc?"

Doctor Uniat sighed. He wasn’t a bad person, only an old fashioned one. Like many older doctors, he found the whole concept of Munchausen by Proxy too fantastic to be real. "He has all the symptoms of having a seizure, but none of the usual causes. We’re running more tests and monitoring him regularly." He shook his head, clearly frustrated. "This has been the damndest case I’ve ever worked on—there’s effect, but no cause."

Oh there’s cause all right, and her name is Deborah Lewis! Joeanne thought, but said nothing. She wasn’t about to have that unsuccessful conversation again. "Can I see him?"

"Not tonight," he said, his manner not unkind. "He’s resting, and the nurses are keeping close watch on his vitals."

"Please keep me informed," she said, gratified when he nodded, shaking hands with her before walking away. She rejoined Dan, Trixie and Jim, who were standing as far from Mrs. Lewis as they could get without actually leaving the room.

"We heard," Trixie said before she could say anything. "At least he’s okay."

"For now," Joeanne said blackly. She felt the beginning of tears and ruthlessly pushed them back.

"I wish there was something I could do," Jim said, recognizing all too well the suppression of emotion playing itself out in Joeanne’s face. He’d seen Trixie do that many times over the years, and it never failed to rile his protective instincts.

"Me too," she replied shakily. "But thanks just the same." He’s still the guy who wouldn’t let me be alone in the woods, she thought, feeling a slight warmth break up the ice that had formed over her heart ever since Trixie took the call.

"Whew, now that it’s all over, I feel like I could just collapse," Dan said, watching enviously as Jim put his arm around Trixie, pulling her into him, wishing he could do the same with Joeanne. He no longer thought he could just ‘take her out a few times and have some fun’. He was through kidding himself about that. What he wasn’t sure of was what he intended to do about it. It was obvious from their phone conversation that she was just out of a bad relationship, and that would no doubt complicate the matter.

"It’s not over," Joeanne said softly, pushing the button for the elevator. A single tear escaped and she swiped at it impatiently.

"I need to find Meggie and let her know what’s going on," Trixie said as they entered the elevator. "Plus, she said she had something important to tell me."

"Did she see anything?" Joeanne said, her voice rising with excitement. Her mind was already leaping ahead with the possibilities. The elevator stopped in the emergency lobby and they got out.

"I don’t know, she didn’t…" she spotted Meggie’s boyfriend talking to the nurse behind the counter and walked over to him. "Andy—where’s Meggie?" She could tell by the tense expression filling his normally affable face that something was wrong.

"Meggie’s just got a few bumps and bruises," the nurse behind the counter said soothingly. "She’ll be with you in a sec."

"Oh no! What happened?" Trixie cried. Before the nurse could reply, Meggie appeared, walking out of one of the exam rooms. She held an icepack to her swollen jaw, her long brown hair spilling over her shoulders. "Hey," she said, lifting the icepack and giving a tired shrug. "Ellen says I’m fine," she said to Andy as he reached her side. He took her free hand and said nothing, his face registering his unwillingness to continue the argument in front of a roomful of people.

"What happened?" Trixie asked the young girl, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

Meggie looked around nervously for a moment. "Is there somewhere we can go?" she said urgently to the nurse.

"I’ll keep everybody out of Exam 2 for as long as I can, honey," the attending nurse said sympathetically. She had the wildest hair Trixie had ever seen, it made her own curls seem sleek by comparison.

Trixie sighed as they all trooped into the little room. Yeah, this is real inconspicuous! She thought miserably, but she simply didn’t have the energy to make an issue out of it. It was probably too late anyway.

Meggie shut the door and faced the group. "I didn’t see Mrs. Lewis do anything to Sammy," she began, knowing that this was what was uppermost on everyone’s mind. "I finished my rounds and thought I’d check on him. I saw Mrs. Lewis at the end of the hall, talking to some man."

"With dark hair?" Trixie asked on a hunch, remembering the head that had poked into the room the first time she visited.

"Yes!" Meggie exclaimed. Five pairs of eyes looked at Trixie in surprise, five mouths opening at once and bombarding her with questions. The din was incredible.

Trixie held up her hands. "Guys! I saw the back of a head for one second!" She quickly explained what happened.

"I’ve got a bad feeling about this," Dan muttered.

"Go on, Meggie," Trixie urged. "Then what?"

Meggie touched her sore jaw. "I went into Sammy’s room. I figured if one of them came in, I could just say I was a volunteer." She broke off, glancing down at her uniform. "After all, it’s not a lie. I am a volunteer. I peeked into his crib and he was making these sounds. These awful sounds," she repeated, her voice rising. "I could tell he was having trouble breathing. He was trembling all over too. I was so scared! I hit the call button and then all of the sudden somebody grabbed me from behind."

Trixie noticed the growing expression on Andy’s face and felt sorry for him, wondering if there would ever come a day when she didn’t carry residual guilt from some of her own adventures. "Somebody?" she asked, ignoring the brief flash of pain from her quick trip down Bad Judgement Lane.

"A man’s voice said something like ‘can’t you all just leave her alone?’ and then he slammed my face down on the crib. I must have blacked out for just a second because next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor." She looked at her boyfriend for a moment, clearly wishing that he didn’t have to hear this for the second time. He looked stonily back at her and she sighed before continuing. "I tried to see who it was, but all I saw was the back of a head leaving the room." She looked significantly at Trixie. "A dark head."

"I don’t like this at all. This man is involved somehow, and everybody concerned with this case needs to watch her back." Dan began to pace in the small room, almost tripping over a small metal stool in his path.

"His back too," Joeanne put in, with a glance at Dan.

Dan shook his head. "I didn’t come to the hospital that day. There’s no way Mister Dark Hair can know I’m involved."

"I wouldn’t be so sure of that. We’re sticking out like a sore thumb all grouped together like this," Trixie contradicted. She took Jim’s hand before continuing. "Everybody in this room needs to be careful until we find out who this guy is." She made sure her voice had a lecture-free tone. "Meggie, I appreciate what you did. You probably saved Sammy’s life. But don’t do anything by yourself anymore, okay? You should have asked one of the nurses to go in with you."

"You shouldn’t have gone to that floor by yourself in the first place!" Andy threw in. Meggie’s sense of adventure was one of the things he liked best about her, but he was starting to see the dark side of it.

"Andy, not again!" Meggie begged, frustrated. She looked at Joeanne, a gleeful look flitting over her face. "And anyway, I’m not sorry because," she reached into her pocket and carefully pulled out a handkerchief wrapped bundle, "I found this on the floor, underneath the crib. I made sure not to touch it with my hands."

Joeanne carefully unwrapped it, gasping at what she saw. "Oh my God, Meggie! This might be it. This might be the piece of physical evidence we need!" She carefully laid the object down and impulsively hugged the young girl. Tomorrow I’ll be able to get a hold of the video tape and we’ll just see about Mrs. Lewis!

"See! Aren’t you all glad I went in there now?" she asked unwisely.

"You were lucky this time, but what if he did more? What if he had a knife or something?" Andy’s voice was rising as it became clear to him that she wasn’t taking what happened seriously. At least, not as seriously as he was. She stood there looking at him, and she looked so beautiful he couldn’t stand it. "If you think I’m going to hang around and wait for you to be killed, you’ve got another thing coming!" he burst out, lunging for the door.

"Arrrrrrrrrrrgh," Meggie moaned as the door closed behind him. "I’m sorry," she apologized to the room in general. "He’s just a little upset. He came down here to pick me up and, well, I guess it is a little upsetting to find your girlfriend looking like she just went a few rounds. But man, it’s not like I plan on these things happening! I was on that floor because my supervisor actually asked me to take something to the head nurse up there. And when I saw them by his room, I had a bad feeling about it. But it was the right feeling!" She ran out of breath, clearly frustrated.

"It sure was," Joeanne said. "But Andy’s right about one thing—it could have been worse. I’m so thankful it wasn’t." Meggie was the same age as her sister; she felt her heart constrict at the thought of Sally attacked by some strange man. One Darnell is enough, she thought, her jaw clenching. She forced herself to relax, knowing she couldn’t afford to fall apart. Not now. Not ever.

"Amen to that," Jim added. He gave Trixie’s hand a squeeze. "I’m speaking from experience when I tell you that he’s just worried about you, that’s all."

"I know," Meggie said, her face unhappy.

Trixie could feel Bad Judgement Lane calling to her again and ignored it. It’s a waste of time to beat yourself up over the past. What was, was. "Just learn from the experience and move on, Meggie." At the girl’s nod, she continued lightly, "And I don’t know if this will make you feel any better, but I know just how you feel. I used to have a boyfriend just like that!"

"Really?" Meggie asked. "Oh boy. What did you do?" She smiled back at the older woman, glad that she wasn’t angry with her too.

Trixie let her smile turn into a grin. "I married him!"

Everybody laughed merrily as Meggie looked by turns horrified, guilty then resigned.

"Oh, I needed that!" Joeanne gasped between chuckles.

I know what I need, Dan thought, schooling his expression into something a little less obvious.

"Droll, very droll," Jim said, doing his best Fred Flintstone impersonation. He pulled Trixie into a loose hug. "She’d be lost without me," he sighed, knowing that the exact opposite was more likely true. He couldn’t help wondering about the mysterious dark-haired man and only felt better after mentally chanting ‘she’s always careful’ several times.

Joeanne carefully placed the bundle into her purse. "I need to get this to a lab right away, but I don’t want to use this hospital." Considering everything that’s happened, I better use the company the Attorney General’s Office always used, Joeanne silently decided. She felt a surge of savage elation—for all she knew, the key to Sammy’s personal safety might finally be in her hands.

"I’d feel a lot better if you’d let me go with you," Dan said, ignoring the look he could feel from Trixie’s direction. He kept his voice neutral. "After what Meggie’s been through, I don’t think it’s a good idea for any of us to be alone." To his surprise and relief, she readily agreed.

"Don’t want to set a bad example for the kid here!" she said, shooting Meggie a teasing glance. She was glad to see the girl took it in stride, even giving her a rueful nod. She knew that wasn’t the only reason she agreed and felt her face grow a little warm. She was disconcerted to realize that she wasn’t entirely sure what was making her the happiest—knowing that she might finally have the last piece of the puzzle or that she was going to be spending more time with Dan.

*     *     *

She turned down the offer of a ride, but not the security escort, and headed for the parking lot, knowing he’d be waiting for her. As mad as Andy ever got, he would never leave her stranded. She sighed, wondering what she was going to do. She liked Andy a lot. She suspected she may even love him, but she didn’t want to think about that. Her best friend Sarah teased her about it enough as it was. Her shoulders slumped as she realized that she was most likely due for another lecture when she told her about what happened. Can I help it if she couldn’t come to work today? It’s not my fault she caught a cold!

She finally spotted Andy’s jeep and was relieved to see that he had calmed down considerably since he left the hospital, wearing a sheepish expression she was familiar with. "Thanks Jeff," she said to the burly guard who’d walked her to the parking garage.

"You see that man again, you come and get me, you hear?" he said.

"Mmm hmm," she muttered, the pain in her jaw radiating all the way to the top of her skull. She thought of what her parents would say when she got home and wondered if running away to join the circus was a viable option.

I’ll be more careful from now on, she vowed to herself, but I’m never giving up mysteries. Not in a million years!

To be continued…

Couldn’t resist the nod to "Underdog". Man oh man, did I EVER love that show when I was a kid! It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s a frog…

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