DISCLAIMER: We, the authors of this story, take no responsibility for any criminal actions involved in using copyrighted characters or material. We are all alien abductees returned to earth for the specific purpose of writing this tale. We have no choice in the matter, as each of us will be vaporized into a mound of gray ash if we don’t finish our assigned chapter by our individual deadlines. Golden Books and Western Publishing, suing us will do you no good. These aliens are serious. They have no qualms about pulverizing the entire planet if we don’t succeed in our endeavor, so your threats of legal action pale in comparison. If you need any verification regarding the validity of this disclaimer, please contact Special Agent Fox Mulder, FBI. Thank you.
BTW: Writer note: I realize somewhere early on in the TB series it was mentioned that Dan was studying hard to graduate with Jim and Brian. But later on that notion seemed to have been dropped. I’m going here with the idea that he was one grade below them. So, Trixie, Honey, and Di are sophomores. Mart is a junior, and Dan is now a senior. Jim and Brian are freshman in college.
Untitled Trixie Belden Mystery
(We never did pick a title, you know. I think I’ll leave that up to somebody else to decide.)
Chapter 1
4:12 PM, Tuesday, October 26
Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson
Town Square"Hey! Hey! Wait up! Hey, mister! You forgot something!" Fifteen-year-old Trixie Belden jumped up from her seat and waved her arms excitedly. "Sir? Hang on!" She grabbed the small, wrapped package from the park bench and raced after the rapidly retreating older man.
"Isn’t that my little sister?" Mart Belden asked, watching from across the street. He frowned as his light blue eyes followed her down the sidewalk.
"Yeah. That’s her all right," Dan Mangan replied, grinning. "What do you suppose she’s doing now?"
Mart sighed and unlocked the door to his mother’s car. "I’m afraid to ask. I really am."
"Should we go after her?"
"Why? Do you want to run through town, yelling your head off and generally making a scene?" Mart tossed a plastic bag onto the back seat of the car.
"Oh, I think we could manage to do it without drawing quite so much attention to ourselves."
Mart shook his head. "I’d prefer not to announce my relation to her at the moment. I don’t even know why she didn’t go home with the girls right after school."
"Maybe she was thinking of meeting up with us," Dan guessed. "She knew you were going to be shopping for supplies for your project, and she knew you had your mother’s station wagon."
Mart stared down the street, his expression skeptical. "I’m sure she had better things do to than wait for us."
"Oh, yes," Dan agreed, straight faced. "And that would be racing through Town Square while flapping her arms like a bird and shouting like a maniac."
"Maniac doesn’t really cover it," Mart muttered darkly, sighing again. "I’m thinking certifiably loony."
Dan’s lips twitched. "There’s a difference?"
"In Trixie’s case, you bet. Mania we could probably keep quiet within a close circle of family and friends. The problem is, just about every resident in Sleepyside knows my sister is out of her mind. That means, sooner or later, some well meaning doctor is going to come along and insist we lock her up for her own safety and well being."
"Or maybe our well-being. You know, she’s getting pretty far away. Maybe we should go after her. If she was expecting to ride home with us, it wouldn’t be too cool of us to leave now." Dan nodded his head in Trixie’s direction. "We could just drive after her."
Mart slid into the driver’s seat. "I was planning on it," he assured his friend. "Doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it, but she is my only sister after all."
Dan climbed into the passenger side and snapped on his belt. "Meaning, if you had another one you would have abandoned this one ages ago? Cheer up. Think how boring life would be without Trixie around. This shopping expedition would have ended quietly with a short drive home and an evening of homework for you and wood chopping for me. Instead we get another trip into Wonderland, care of our favorite Alice."
Mart’s bark of laughter almost drowned out the low rumble of the car engine as he turned the key in the ignition. He carefully backed out of his parking space, then turned the vehicle to follow Trixie. They caught up with her at a stoplight. She was leaning up against the brick wall of a corner building, breathing heavily.
Dan rolled down his window. "Hey, Trix," he called casually. "Need a lift?"
Trixie shot him a baleful look. "Sure. Now you two show up? Where were you when I was trying to catch that guy?"
"What guy?" Dan asked, looking around in confusion.
"The one who is no longer here, since I didn’t catch him." Trixie pushed herself away from the wall and walked tiredly up to the car. "He got into a taxi and went bye-bye."
Mart leaned over, peering up at her. "Who were you chasing? And why?" he demanded, sandy brows raised.
"Why? Because he forgot this." Trixie held up the small, yellow box she was still carrying. "Who? No clue."
"What do you think’s in it?" Dan asked curiously.
"Beats me. He left it on the bench we were sitting on. Only I didn’t notice until he was already across the Square." Trixie shrugged. "So I tried to chase him down and return it."
"Are you sure it was his?" Mart wanted to know. "Maybe someone else left it."
"No. It was his," Trixie replied firmly. "I was the first one to sit down and there wasn’t a thing on the bench then. It had to be his."
Dan opened his door and pulled himself up out of the car. "You want front?" he offered, reaching down to open the rear seat door.
"Naw. That’s okay." Trixie clambered into the back seat and sank down gratefully.
A truck behind them honked impatiently. Dan sent the driver a friendly wave. "You have a pleasant evening, too," he mumbled sarcastically as he reclaimed his seat. A few moments later, Mart turned onto a side street to cut back toward home.
Dan turned to look at Trixie over his shoulder. "What were you doing in town, anyway, Trix?"
Trixie glanced down at her backpack and hesitated. She caught a glimpse of Mart eyeing her in the rearview mirror. "I was… taking pictures," she answered slowly.
"Taking pictures?" Mart echoed. "Of what? And why?"
"Oh, this and that. I was… practicing. You never know when good photography skills might come in handy."
Dan studied Trixie intently, and she suspected, from his expression, he didn’t quite believe her. She hoped he didn’t press the issue. Apparently, he had decided not to. He merely turned back around in his seat and changed the subject by engaging Mart in a discussion about football.
Trixie exhaled in relief. She simply wasn’t able to explain her real reason for her sudden interest in cameras and picture taking. She didn’t particularly like keeping things from her brothers and friends, but a promise was a promise. She closed her eyes and dropped her head back against the seat. Hopefully, Honey would have some free time tonight. Trixie wanted to talk with her best friend about a few things, and show her the strange box she now had in her possession. Honey could always be counted on to hear Trixie out with an open mind, and even when she didn’t always agree with Trixie’s way of thinking, she never failed to back her friend up when she needed her.
7:45 PM, Tuesday, October 26
Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson
Wheeler estate
As it turned out, Honey was available to talk with Trixie after dinner. The girls met up at the clubhouse they shared with their closest friends. Formerly a gatehouse on the grand estate owned by Honey’s family, it now served as home base for the Bob-Whites of the Glen, known as the BWGs for short. Honey and Trixie were founding members of the club, along with Trixie’s older brothers Brian and Mart, and Honey’s adopted brother Jim Frayne. Shortly after its inception, two new members were invited to join; Di Lynch, the eldest daughter of the Wheelers’ neighbors, and Dan, the nephew of the Wheelers’ groom, Bill Regan. While dedicated to the principles of helping others and having fun, the Bob-Whites also had an unusual knack for falling into and eventually solving a wide range of mysteries and crimes. Led on by Trixie and Honey, who planned some day to own and operate their own detective firm, the BWGs were directly responsible for the capture of a number of crooks, including counterfeiters, jewel thieves and even gun runners.
"So?" Honey demanded as soon as Trixie walked through the clubhouse door. "You said after school you were going to go try something out? Did this have anything to do with Mrs. Westcott?"
Trixie nodded. "It had everything to do with her. I figure whoever conned her with that lost bag of coins scam may still be hanging around town pulling the same trick on other people, especially since Mrs. Westcott won’t go to the police with her story. And we can’t go to the police since we officially don’t even know about it. I’m glad her granddaughter came to us for help, but it’s frustrating, too."
Honey regarded her with wide eyes. "Don’t tell me you actually would rather have the police handle this one?"
"No. Yes." Trixie lifted her shoulders. "Not that I want to hear another ‘stay out of police business’ lecture from Sergeant Molinson, but I would gladly go tell him everything I know if it’ll keep another sweet old lady from losing her money."
Honey chewed on her lip. "I agree with you there. But do you really think these creeps could keep pulling the same stunt over and over? Don’t you think they’d get caught pretty fast?"
"Not necessarily," Trixie countered. "Look at Mrs. Westcott. She won’t admit she got conned because she’s so embarrassed, and she’s afraid her son might use it as an excuse to put her in a retirement home. You heard what Tammy said. Her dad’s been hinting for months now that Mrs. Westcott can’t take care of herself any more. What do you think he’d say if he found out she’d given three hundred dollars to a con artist? Tammy agreed not to tell him, and we agreed not to tell anyone, either. And that, I am afraid, is what other victims are going through, keeping quiet about being duped, and swearing anyone who knows to secrecy. It’s what makes a good con so good. It can be done over and over and nobody catches on. The same two or three people can pull the exact same con for years without getting caught. I’ll bet whoever it was that tricked Mrs. Westcott with those so called rare coins has been using that little money making scheme for a long time. There are dozens of variations on it, too, but what it boils down to is playing on the good nature of honest people and taking them to the cleaners. Mrs. Westcott thought she was helping a grateful coin collector, and a homeless man, and instead she was paying off a couple of heartless crooks."
Honey tucked her hair behind her ears. "Where’d you learn so much about this stuff all of a sudden?"
Trixie smiled ruefully. "After-the-fact research. After Tammy came to us yesterday, I did some reading up last night on the Net on different kinds of cons and how they’re usually worked out. Honey, it’s amazing how clever some of these schemes are. This lost coin thing? It ran in New York City for months and months before their bunco squad finally exposed it, and it played the same way as here. Some bum claims to have found a bag of valuable coins and doesn’t know what to do. But, hey, there’s a return address and phone number right there on the bag! He could call the owner, but he doesn’t have any money for the payphone and he’s afraid to make the call anyway. He doesn’t talk ‘too good’ and people have a hard time understanding him. But, you, nice looking, respectable person, couldn’t you call? And of course, Mr. or Ms. Respectable does, and then gets fed that line about how these coins are worth thousands of dollars and there’s a several hundred dollar reward. Well, now, the bum sure could use that money, but he doesn’t want to wait around for Mr. Moneybags to come pay it. He’s getting out of town, or has to be somewhere else or whatever. That’s okay! Mr. Moneybags asks our hero to pay the bum the reward money, and then he’ll pay it back, with a few extra hundred, of course, when he comes to collect the coins."
Honey shook her head. "And then the bum takes his reward, Mr. Moneybags is nowhere to be found, and our hero is left with a sack of worthless old coins."
Trixie nodded grimly. "And no one can track down the bad guys. The phone number turns out to be to another payphone and the bum has vanished with the hero’s own money."
"Trixie, I hate to admit this, but I think I would have fallen for that one myself."
"I know. Cons are set up to steal from honest people, people who wouldn’t dream up something like this themselves and can’t imagine other people doing it." Suddenly, Trixie grinned. "But you don’t have to worry, really. You and I aren’t typical targets. Con artists don’t much go after teens because we usually don’t have immediate access to a lot of cash. Or, even if we did carry around an ATM card to some kind of family emergency account, they know they run the risk of having a teenager insist he call his mom for permission first. No, it’s easier to go after the elderly. They are generally more trusting and they have their own money."
"This reminds me so much of Mr. Lytell."
"Yep. Just another kind of scam like the one he fell for. Lucky for him, we were on the case!"
"Lucky for him, you were on the case. The rest of us thought Laura Ramsey and Mark McGraw were just who they claimed to be. Instead, they were just two cons trying to take Mr. Lytell for all his savings."
"Their scam was more involved then what we’re dealing with here, though. They were after all of Mr. Lytell’s money in one shot. Ramsey and McGraw specialized in the ‘big cons’ like that, forming whole identities and drawing a mark into their complicated set-up. Mrs. Westcott, on the other hand, got taken by something known as a ‘short con.’ The idea behind them is pull it off quickly and disappear before your victim has time to think things through clearly. Naturally the short con crooks don’t walk away from one job with as much money as someone pulling a big con, but they also face a lot less chance of being captured and sent to jail."
"Wow!" Honey exclaimed, impressed. "You really have done your homework!"
Trixie flushed slightly at her praise. "Honestly, as I was reading, it occurred to me we should have looked into the whole subject more, right after we exposed Laura Ramsey and her phony ‘private investigator.’ In fact, there are several different crimes I think you and I ought to learn more about. Maybe someday we’ll actually be able to prevent something from happening because we’ve done our research, instead of just trying to solve the mystery after the crime has already taken place."
"Sounds good to me!" Honey agreed. "So, tell me what you did after school today."
"I took a whole lot of pictures."
Honey stared at her friend blankly.
"I took pictures of every single person I saw who I didn’t know well enough to be sure he or she wasn’t a con artist."
"Why?"
"Because we’re going to make a suspect book of mug shots, just like the police have and we’re going to take it to Tammy and see if she recognizes anyone. I realize it’s a long shot, but you never know. She never saw the man on the phone, obviously, but she was right there when the bum did his part."
"But he was a bum," Honey pointed out. "Or at least dressed up to look like one. Do you really think she might pick him out of a group of ordinary looking people?"
"Probably not," Trixie conceded. "But I think if I keep taking lots of pictures, I’m going to get something eventually. I might get real lucky and get a shot of another con in progress."
"So you plan to do this again tomorrow?" Honey guessed.
Trixie nodded. "Lots and lots of pictures. All this week, matter of fact."
"You do realize this is gonna start costing us in the film and development department."
Trixie sighed dramatically. "I know. Unless, of course, a friendly staffer on the school paper agrees to help me out."
"Trixie Belden! Who have you snookered into helping us and what story did you give him? You couldn’t have told him the truth!"
"Her, actually. He’s a she. Her name is Adrianna Travers and she’s a freshman this year. She’d actually heard about us, so rather than lie to her, I just told her we are working on a case that must be kept in the strictest confidence. Anyway, she’s a photography nut and has her own dark room at home. She said I could bring over all my film Saturday morning and she’ll develop it this weekend."
"This Saturday? Isn’t she going to the Harvest Festival?"
"She wasn’t sure when I first talked to her. She is now, though. I told her she was coming with the BWGs whether she liked it or not. She’s doing us a big favor, after all. The least we can do is make sure she has fun at the fair. I don’t think she has many friends."
Honey’s eyes clouded with sympathy, remembering the time before the Wheelers had moved to Sleepyside-on-the Hudson. Before meeting Trixie and her rambunctious family, Honey had been a typical "poor, little rich girl," a sickly, shy boarding school student. Now she was a happy and healthy out-going teenager, and she hated to think of anyone else suffering from loneliness. Lifting her chin with determination, she decided Adrianna Travers would not be lonely any more. "Then we have to make absolutely sure she has a great time with us this weekend!"
The town of Sleepyside was gearing up for the First Annual Harvest Festival, a combination fair and Halloween Carnival. The brainchild of the newly formed Town Improvement Coalition, the idea was to create a fun, safe environment for families to celebrate the holiday. Trixie and the other Bob-Whites eagerly looked forward to the festivities, including a parade, a midway with rides and games, and an outdoor dance to be held after sunset. Brian Belden and Jim Frayne, both away at college, had promised to drive home for the weekend to join them.
"I’m sure she’ll enjoy herself," Trixie declared confidently. "With us, how could she not?"
Honey giggled in response.
"Now," Trixie continued, reaching for her book bag. "I have something else to discuss with you." She pulled the small, yellow package out and placed it on the clubhouse table. Briefly, she described her attempt to return it to its owner. "… and so I just brought it home with me. What do you think we should do with it? Should we open it and see if there’s some kind of identification inside? Should we post ‘Found Box’ notices? Should we take it to the police? Do you think there’s some kind of community-wide lost and found?"
Honey thoughtfully picked up the box. "I’m not sure, Trix. I don’t like the idea of opening it, since it isn’t ours and there’s no way to guarantee we’d find anything like a name or address inside. But, I don’t know that the police would bother to do anything about such a small item. Maybe we ought to take a group vote. You can call Brian and I’ll call Jim, and we can tell Di about it at school tomorrow. What did Dan and Mart think?"
"We didn’t really discuss it, to tell the truth. I was so eager to not explain what I was doing this afternoon; I didn’t want to question them about anything at all. I was pretty evasive when Mart asked me why I was in town, and I know Dan didn’t believe my answer, so Mart probably didn’t either, but, for once, they didn’t hound me about it."
"Well, if this is going to be a Bob-White vote, you’ll have to talk to Mart about it, you know."
"I know. But why don’t you call Dan? Then I only have to face one of them."
"Deal, partner." Honey smiled and rose from her chair. "Now, I need to skeedaddle. I want to study for my math quiz tomorrow."
"Ewww. Study. The very thought gives me hives."
Honey grinned and shook her head. "Only when the subject doesn’t interest you."
"Yeah, well, you know, that letter I sent the school board suggesting a curriculum based on police procedures, criminal behaviors, and crime scene investigating techniques, seems to have gone completely ignored. Do you think I should send them another request?"
Honey stumbled out of the clubhouse, laughing so hard tears streamed down her cheeks.
End of Chapter One written by Jenni.
Chapter 2
7.50 PM, Tuesday, 26 October
Undisclosed Location"What do you mean, you don’t have it? Did you not make the pick up?" Clenched fist. Calm down, relax, take a drag.
"Well, I got there…" he gulped, and paused. Help! How do I get out of this one?
"And?" I’m losing patience. I’m gonna kill any minute!
"Some kid grabbed the box! She ran down the street chasing Manton, but he just ignores her and gets into a cab. What was I supposed to do? Run after her?" Damn. I knew I should have run after her. I’m going to get the crap kicked out of me. I want me mum!
"Well, you could have made some excuse. We can’t take the risk of the box falling onto the wrong hands.
"Find out who she is, and get the box back. And quickly. Everything has to be in place for the festival on Saturday." Yes, quickly, if you know what’s good for you, you stupid little man.
"Yes, Boss" Phew! Who does he think he is?
Cursing, Brown ground his cigarette. Mr Elliot was going to be very mad!
7.50pm, Tuesday 26 October
Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson
Crabapple Farm"Trixie, it’s Brian. I just spoke to Jim, who had a very interesting call from Honey." He paused, as if waiting for Trixie to continue. Trixie breathed a sigh of relief, and sat down on the floor cross-legged. At least she didn’t have to explain any thing to Brian.
"What happened? Jim didn’t tell me much, he thought you should tell me."
Trixie sighed, uncrossed her legs, and proceeded to recount the afternoon’s incident, leaving out the part about the photos. "I don’t know what to do. If we took it to the police, they wouldn’t do anything about it. Can you imagine Sergeant Molinson scouring Sleepyside to find the owner? If we opened it, we would probably find a clue to the owner, but that would be an invasion of privacy." Trixie paused, giving Brian a time to consider the two options.
"Have you spoken to the others? What do they think?" he asked.
"Only Honey so far. She’s not sure either. She suggested a group vote. I was going to ring you tonight and get your opinion, but you beat me to it. I really don’t know." Trixie sighed, wishing there was an obvious answer in front of her.
"The five of you should have a meeting tomorrow and discuss it. I don’t know what to do. It’s quite a dilemma. Call a Bob-White meeting tomorrow for after school. I’ll think about it tonight, and ring Honey tomorrow on her cell phone with my opinion. You can count my vote that way."
Trixie smiled. She wondered what Brian’s real motive was for ringing Honey. But she left the question unasked. "Thanks Brian. Now I have to tell Mart, and put up with his wisecracks." Trixie groaned. "And I have math homework too. Bye, Brother." Trixie put the phone back on the hook and went in search of her almost twin brother. She found him immediately, surveying the fridge intently.
"Ah, my favorite female sibling, I observe an expression displaying bewilderment on your face. What’s up?" He screwed up his nose and closed the fridge door.
Trixie sat down at the table. "I’m in a dilemma. Remember the box I found today?"
Mart nodded. "Ah, yes. The one for which you chased a poor forgetful soul down the main streets of Sleepyside. What about it?"
"What should we do about it? Should I open it to find some ID to return it to the owner? Or should we give it in at the police station, knowing full well that Molinson will not worry about it? The ‘poor forgetful soul’ as you call him may have returned to the park bench where he left it, find it gone, think someone took it and never even consider going to the police station." Trixie stopped for breath. "I think we should open it, but what about his privacy? Brian suggested us Sleepyside based Bob-Whites get together after school tomorrow and decide."
"Why bother? You’re making a mountain out of a molehill. You can only do one thing, and that’s take it to the police station. Anything else is unethical. But why not have a meeting? It’s been a while since we’ve had one. I myself would enjoy the experience! Count me in. Now, I have an English test to study for. And I’m guessing that you have studying to do as well. Forget about it for tonight. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Okay?"
Trixie considered his words. She nodded. "Yeah, I definitely agree on the homework idea." Meaning she disagreed with her brother about the box. Hopefully the others would see it her way. At least Mart’s comment helped her decide what she thought she should do. Trixie did not want to hand the box over to the police. However, now she had put it in the hands of the Bob-Whites. Most of whom would probably agree with Mart. "Thanks, Mart."
She walked up the stairs to her bedroom, and decided to put the box out of her mind. She had homework to do. The box will have to wait, she thought, and opened her math textbook, as the yellow box lay on her desk, unopened.
Trixie tossed and turned. Sleep just wasn’t coming to her. She reviewed the day’s event in her head. Something didn’t add up. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she knew there was something not right about the situation. Surely she was close enough to the man that he would have heard her call out to him. Half of Main Street had turned around to stare at her, she remembered with embarrassment. Yet he ran on, and jumped into a cab as soon as he could. She turned over again. This wasn’t getting her anywhere. Maybe she just had too much to think about, with school, Mrs Westcott, and now the package.
Tomorrow we’ll sort it out.
Wednesday, 27th October 4.00 PM
Sleepyside-on-the Hudson
Bob-White Clubhouse"So what do you think guys?" Trixie looked around at her friends. Honey, Mart and Dan all knew what she was talking about, but it was new for Diana. Due to a dental appointment, she was not on the bus that morning, and Trixie never got the chance recount the previous day’s events to her.
"Well, I’ve already told Trixie that we should just hand it over to the police. It shouldn’t be such a big deal. You find something, you return it. If you can’t, then give it to the police. End of story." Mart munched on a chocolate chip cookie, supplied by Honey’s cook. "Stop trying to make a mystery out of it, Trix."
Angry at his last comment, Trixie opened her mouth to defend her position, but was interrupted by Honey. "I don’t think she’s trying to make a mystery out of it at all. We all know how busy Sergeant Molinson and the rest of the force is. I don’t think that guy is going to go to the police station to look for it. I agree with Trixie."
Honey smiled at Trixie, which she returned, thankful for her friend’s support. I know I can always count on Honey to back me up.
Honey continued. "However, my brother doesn’t agree. He, too, believes we should give the box to the police. Sorry, Trixie."
Trixie looked at Diana. "Sorry, Trixie, I agree with Mart. We have no right to open this man’s box. I think we should give it to the police. Or, put up a found sign at the bus stop. Surely he’ll return there to find it?"
It was an angle that they had not considered.
Frustrated, Trixie turned to Dan. "I think we should open it," he said. "How do we know what’s in it? Maybe it’s some life saving medication for the man’s elderly dying mother. Anything private I think he would have taken more care with the box. Besides, I’m just damn curious. I want to know what’s in there. And I know I’m not the only one." He smiled at Trixie.
"So that’s three of us who think we should open it, and three who think we should give it to the police. Did my brother call you?" Trixie looked at Honey, who regretfully shook her head. "We’ll just have to wait."
They all turned to look at Honey’s phone, which was lying on the table next to the chocolate chip cookies. As if on cue, the phone rang. Honey picked it up.
"Hello?"
End of Chapter Two written by Sandra.
Chapter 3
4:15 PM Wednesday, 27th October
Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson
Bob-White clubhouseThey could all tell by Honey's reaction that it was Brian on the phone as she turned beet red immediately. "We're all here, Brian," she said, "so tell us what you think we should do. We seem split down the middle."
Brian told her, "We think you should take it to the police. Jim and I are very concerned about your safety with us being at college and unable to keep an eye on you. You can see what Trixie's favorite human being, Sergeant Molinson, has to say and take it from there. I'm sure it's nothing."
Honey relayed the news to the other Bob-Whites.
"Okay," Trixie agreed reluctantly. "Let's take it to the police. I guess we probably would have to eventually anyway."
They said good-bye to Brian and piled into the Bob-White station wagon.
When they arrived at the police station, Sergeant Molinson noticed Trixie and the box she was holding. "Oh, Miss Belden," he said, raising an eyeborw, "a present for me? How did you know it was my birthday?"
Trixie laughed and said, "Actually, yesterday I found this left on a park bench. I picked it up and ran after the guy it belongs to, but he got away. We didn't open it--we decided to ask you what you thought."
"For once you're showing good judgement by coming to us first," Sergeant Molinson said as she handed him the box. He looked it over. "There doesn't seem to be anything sinister here. I guess we can open it and see what's inside."
At that same moment
A small group of men sat in a clearing outside the police station. The tallest one was speaking. "I can't believe that girl took it to the police. Now we're really in for it. We'll never get it back."
"I can't believe you just let her take it away," one of his cohorts said. "She can't be more than 5'2. Were you scared of her? What's worse is I did some checking around town. She's well known here for being a smart little detective."
Another companion spoke. "We want to get this all ready for the festival and now this girl, you said her name was Trixie Belden, has taken it to the police. We're done now for sure. The boss will get us and we won't be able to pull off our plan to get the town of Sleepyside once and for all."
Local College Dinner Hall
6:30 PM that evening"Jim," said Brian Belden, "it looks like our sisters have gotten themselves into yet another mess. What are we going to do with those two? At least we were able to talk some sense into them this time and they're going to the police."
Jim Frayne sighed. "We'll see them this weekend and give them a real talking to but I still think the whole thing doesn't sound too sinister or criminal. You think if something bad was involved Trixie would have been chased down by now."
Brian was about to speak when a friend of theirs came up to them. "There's a call for you two upstairs from your sisters," said the fellow student. "You better get it right away-- it's urgent."
End of Chapter Three written by Steph.
Okay, I left some leadoff points for the next person to write the story. Sorry so short, but with my surprise I've been going crazy. Enjoy and can't wait to talk to you all when I return. --Steph
Authors note: This is my first attempt at writing something for someone to actually see. I hope I took it into a direction you all will like. Please give me feedback, good or bad, as I have my own story in the works, if I could just find time to write it!!
Chapter 4
5:00 PM Wednesday, 27th October
Sleepyside Police StationTrixie held her breath as the box was opened.
"Why, there's nothing here but a bag of coins." Looking at the startled face of Trixie, Sergeant Molinson continued, "Are you familiar with these coins, Miss Belden?"
"Um, why no, uh, I was just surprised that all that was in there are coins. That's all. What will you do with them?"
"I think I will just keep them here for now, see if anyone claims them."
Dan looked back and forth at Trixie and Honey who kept exchanging glances, but he knew better than to question them now. He saw Mart start to open his mouth and quickly shook his head. Mart nodded back to him in acknowledgment.
Trixie spoke up again, "If that is all Sergeant, may we go?"
"Of course, go on. By the way, thank you for bringing this to us," holding up the bag, "instead of making a mystery out of nothing."
Quickly, Trixie mumbled a thank you, gathered her jacket and walked out of the station, the others quietly following. Getting into the station wagon, she hoped the others hadn't caught her surprise at seeing that bag of coins. Sighing, she knew they would have, and didn't know how to answer their questions.
Inside the police station, Sergeant Molinson stared out the door from which Trixie and her friends had left. That girl infuriated him, but he also realized that she was very smart. He had seen a look, something he couldn't quite put his finger on, on her face. Calling his deputy into the office, he asked him to research into any stolen coins report. He placed the bag into the drawer for safe keeping.
As expected, Mart didn't waste any time grilling Trixie as he got into the car.
"All right Trixie, what is going on? What do you know about a bunch of dumb coins? And why do I have a feeling that your answer spells mystery?"
Trixie didn't answer, but looked out the window.
"I think we should tell them, Trix."
"Honey!" Turning from the window, Trixie exclaimed, "we PROMISED not to!"
"I know, but I think, you know who, would understand us telling the guys because if those coins were left for someone to pick up to use to do again what was done to you know who's you know who, then you know who would realized that......"
"Whoa, slow down Honey! Please!" Dan pleaded, but laughing at her crazy babbling that only she and Trixie seemed to understand. "I understand, someone has a problem and came to you guys and asked to keep it a secret, I understand you don't want to break that, but if you two are involved in something, yet again, I think we have the right to know. Please, tell us!"
Taking a breath, Trixie made her decision. Hating to break her word, she knew Honey and Dan were right. Besides, when could she ever not tell the Bob-Whites everything, probably because they never let it go until she did.
"Fine! Drop me off at Crabapple farm, and I will meet you at the clubhouse."
Ever the inquisitor, Mart asked, "Why? Why do you have to go to the house? Why won't you tell us what is going on, now?"
"Because, Twinie,"she said, losing her temper, "if I am going to tell you what I know, I want to make sure it will be all right with the person who took me into their confidences. That's why!"
Turning back to the window, she refused to say anything more.
6:00 PM Wednesday 27th October
Bobwhite ClubhouseAfter consulting with Tammy and receiving her permission to tell the guys, she and Honey told Mart, Dan and Di the whole story, starting with the scam on Mrs. Westcott, and Tammy's plea for help.
"So," Trixie concluded, "After Molinson opened the box and we saw the coins, Honey and I both thought the same thing-- the man must have left the package for someone else to pick up so they could prey on some poor unsuspecting person, just like they did to Mrs. Westcott."
Di spoke up. "Shouldn't we go to the police then, and tell them all of this?"
"We can't do that, Di," Dan answered, "for one, we don't know for sure that was what the coins were intended for. That guy could have just forgotten them on the bench. Secondly, if we went to the police, especially without any proof, that would just make Mrs. Westcott more embarrassed than she already is."
"We promised Tammy we would help her, Di, and that's what we are going to do," Trixie pounded her fists on the table in frustration. "If only we had opened that box ourselves, we might have be able to find out something. But, we can't help that now, so the first thing we need to do is...."
"The first thing you need to do is call Brian and Jim and tell them what is going on," Mart interrupted. "While I don't think the coins we turned in had anything to do with what happened to Mrs. Westcott, you need to let them know what is going on and find out what they have to say."
"Fine! Honey, call the dorm and talk to Brian. They won't care though, no one ever does."
"We do care, Trixie," Di replied, laying a hand on Trixie's, "we care about you and we all worry about you, especially when you start working on something and don't fill anyone else in on it."
"I know, I know," Trixie replied, but stopped as Honey tapped her on the shoulder.
"Trix, a guy in the dorm is going to get Brian and Jim now, they'll be here in a ......."
Honey was cut off by a scream from Di. Turning toward the door, she saw two men, one carrying a gun, and stifled her own scream.
"Now, don't anybody move or make a sound. You do and your little Trixie here will...... TURN THAT PHONE OFF NOW or you've had it!!"
Seeing the cell phone in Honey's hand, the man trained the gun on her. Honey wasted no time in turning it off.
Stark white, Dan shifted as if to jump up and tackle the man, but a look from Trixie settled him back into his seat.
Defiantly, Trixie held up her hands in what she hoped to be an unthreatening manner and stood slowly, conscious of the gun once again pointed at her.
"What do you want? We don't have anything!!"
"That's right missy, you don’t have what we want, because you took it to the police. That's alright though, because you and I are going to go retrieve them."
These are the con men, Trixie realized, Oh, how are we going to get out of this one....
6:35 PM Wednesday, 27 October
College Boys DormBrian picked up the handset dangling from the payphone. Into it, he said, "Honey..."
Jim looked on to see his friend slam down the phone.
"What is it, what happened? Brian?!?"
Red in the face, Brian turned slowly, "Pack up now Jim, our sisters have gotten themselves into some mess again. The phone went dead, but before it did, I heard a man say, "Turn that phone off now, or you've had it."
Without another word, they grimly went to their rooms to get their belongings.
End of Chapter Four written by Brooke.
Chapter 5
7:30 PM, Wednesday, October 27
Just outside Sleepyside-on-the-HudsonThe two young men had ridden most of the way home in silence. As they entered the outskirts of Sleepyside, however, Brian turned to Jim. "You know, this is probably crazy. We get a phone call, I hear something, and we take off for home. Why didn’t we call our houses? By the time we get there, they won’t need us any more."
Jim nodded, but kept his eye on the road. "You’re right. We should have called my house or your house or both. But there’s no point now, we’re almost there."
Silence for a minute.
"Jim, what do you think they’ve gotten themselves into this time? Do you think it has anything to do with the box?"
"How could it, you said Honey said they were taking it to the police. What could have happened from there? It’s not like a mystery happens every time Trixie turns around."
Brian chuckled. "Just about. I’d really like to take a vacation without Trixie’s mysteries taking half the time and all the fun. I mean how many times have we been to Chicago? And not one of them was uneventful! You know, this never happened before she meant you and Honey."
"So you’re blaming me? Some friend you are."
Silence again.
"You know, I don’t even know that Trixie’s involved. I mean, Honey called, and then I heard a voice say ‘Turn off that phone.’ It could be that the Manor House is being robbed."
"Now, Brian, you don’t believe that for one minute, do you? This is Trixie we’re talking about. If Manor House were going to be robbed, Honey would have invited Trixie to spend the night. I will never get over the way that girl attracts problems. Besides, when Jon interrupted our dinner, he said the call was from our sisters. Plural. Now since I have one and you have one, that means that Trixie and Honey are in the middle of another mess."
"Now I’m really worried again. Thanks for calming me down, friend."
Jim grinned. "That’s what I’m here for. What do you think was going on? You don’t think Honey was trying to call us while being kidnapped, do you?"
"We’ll know soon enough." The car turned onto Glen Road. "So, where do you think we should head first. My place, your place…?"
Jim downshifted. "That’s a good question. One family may not know there’s trouble. And going to the other might make it so this trip was in vain."
"I have an idea. It’ll mean taking a little extra time, but it’ll make us helpful. Let’s park and walk up to one house and see what’s going on. That way if there is trouble, we won’t walk into it but will see what it is."
Jim pulled his car off to the side of Glen Road. "Where to first?"
Brian was peering intently out the window. "Is that a light on in the clubhouse? That might be a great place to start."
The two young men got out of the car and quietly closed the door. They crept up to the clubhouse and peered inside. Then they ran through the front door. There, they were greeted with four startled expressions. Slowly relief and confusion replaced fear on the faces.
Jim and Brian worked to untie Mart, Dan, Honey, and Di. They had been gagged and tied foot and hand to chairs for over an hour.
"The Cavalry finally arrives," Mart said.
"Why did you have to free him first?" Jim asked. He was busy with Honey’s bonds.
"What are you two doing here?" Honey wanted to know.
Brian turned his attention to Dan. "Well, before your phone went dead, we heard someone say to turn the phone off. We decided that you were in over your heads again, so here we are."
Dan shook his arms as the ropes fell away. "Wouldn’t it have made more sense to call one of our families and find out what was happening?"
"We kinda thought of that once we were almost here." Jim was finished with Di’s ropes now. "So what is happening?"
"And where’s Trixie?" Brian added.
The group took turns filling the newcomers in on the events of the last couple hours.
"So after we hung up the phone, a second man came in," Honey concluded. "While the first man kept his gun on Trixie, the other one tied us up as you saw. We’ve been that way for an hour now. Then they took Trixie and left. We have no clue what is happening."
"Well, we need to call the police, fast. Come on, gang." Jim led they way out the door and up to Manor House.
They were met at the front door by Miss Trask. "There you are; we’ve wondered…. Why Jim, Brian. We didn’t expect you home until Friday night. What’s going on?"
"Follow us," is all Jim said as he continued on into the study. He picked up the phone and dialed 0. "Operator, get me the police, and hurry."
Meanwhile, Trixie was…actually, Trixie didn’t know where she was. Just outside the clubhouse, she had been tied, gagged, and blindfolded. Then she’d been hauled like a sack of potatoes to a nearby car. One of the men had pushed her roughly in the back seat. The two car doors in front of her had slammed, the engine had been started, and the car had jumped forward with a squealing of the tires. She had tried to follow where they were in her mind, but had eventually gotten so confused that she’s given up. The ride had been quiet. Eventually, they had stopped and sat in silence for quit a while.
Finally, one of the goons spoke. "Well, it’s about time to call the boss."
"Yup. Here."
"What?! Are you stupid?! We can’t use this phone. Suppose that they report it stolen and then a call is placed on it. They’ll track that number so fast it’ll make you’re head spin. Then we’ll be in real trouble. No, we’ll use this payphone just like we’d planned."
Trixie heard a car door slam. She strained her ears.
"Hello? Ya, it’s me. I got her. What? Then why did we get her? New plan? Ok, fine. Yes, midnight it is. But what should we do with the girl?"
End of Chapter Five written by Mark.
I apologize in advance to whoever’s next. I’m looking forward to seeing what you can do with this. As you can see, I had a little fun. And please remember I said I had an idea of what to write, not an idea to move the story further along.
Well here’s the next chapter. Hopefully I didn’t monopolize the story too much and make my chapter too long. Also, I apologize for the scene towards the end, but I couldn’t resist...
Chapter 6
11:00 p.m., Wednesday, October 27
just outside of Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson-againTrixie shivered with cold, mixed with a little bit of fright. After the phone conversation, her kidnappers had driven for what she estimated was about twenty minutes. Since then, they had all sat in the car in silence. Trixie wished that they had kept the heater on, as she really hadn’t thought to grab her jacket during her hasty exit at the clubhouse.
Finally, the silence was pierced by the sound of another vehicle approaching. Trixie found herself being dragged outside by two pairs of strong hands.
Immediately, she recognized the sound of rushing water. They were somewhere along the river!
Two car doors slammed to Trixie’s right. Soon she heard footsteps approaching her and the kidnappers. A deep voice broke through the night air, “So this is the famous girl detective. Kind of a little thing to cause so much trouble.”
“But, boss,” one of the kidnappers started, “she’s caused us too much trouble already. I’m freaking here! Our contact at the police station said that the coins are under the sergeant’s supervision. Even thought he told Miss Detective here that they were nothing, he’s kept them locked in his desk. We can’t have her go in and retrieve them without attracting a lot of attention.”
“Calm down! We don’t need the coins--they were just child’s play. Right now we have to worry about the Festival. Our little friend here set us back, but I have a new plan. However, before we leave, I think we should show our appreciation to Miss Belden.”
One of the other kidnappers gave a menacing laugh. “Now that’s what I’m talking about, boss. A little payback.” He roughly shoved Trixie and started to remove her blindfold.
“You idiot!” the boss screamed. “She has a blindfold on for a reason.”
Immediately, the blindfold was replaced, but not before Trixie had a good look at a tall man with iron gray hair, dressed in an expensive looking suit.
“Sorry, boss. I thought she was toast, so it didn’t matter...”
“You thought! I don’t pay you to think! Now just get on with it. As for you, Miss Belden, I’m sorry this had to happen, but it’s time you learned to mind your own business.” With that, the man and his companions got in their car and drove away.
“I don’t pay you to think,” mimicked the first kidnapper. Muttering under his breath, he turned to Trixie. “Come on, Miss Detective. Time for a swim.”
Roughly, the hands grabbed her again and started to drag her toward the sound of rushing water.
Suddenly, the still night was broken by the sound of police sirens in the distance. Trixie was dropped to the ground, as the kidnappers tried to escape. Soon, gentle hands removed the gag and blindfold. As she opened her eyes, six worried faces hovered above her.
“Oh, Trixie! Are you okay?” Honey asked as she handed her friend a cup of water.
After taking a drink, Trixie assured everyone she was fine. “But how did you know where to find me?” Gesturing towards Brian and Jim, she added, “And what are you doing here?”
Jim started to answer, when Sergeant Molinson stormed over.
“You! How many times do I have to rescue you before you realize that these things are better left to the police!”
“But, sir,” Trixie replied, “I did go to you, remember?”
Molinson ignored this fact. “I expect to see you tomorrow afternoon in my office. Judging from the past, a morning of recovery should be sufficient.” With that, he stalked off.
Trixie groaned. She just couldn’t win. As the Bob-Whites helped her to her feet, she looked around her. About one hundred yards away, her kidnappers were being read their rights. However, there was no sign of the man she had seen. I swear I’ve seen him before, she thought.
Suddenly, she was brought out of her reverie by Brian who was saying, “Let’s get you back home so you can rest. Then we can talk about everything that happened.” A very tired Trixie allowed herself to be led to the car.
3:00 p.m., Thursday, October 28
Crabapple FarmTrixie lay in her bed completely bored out of her mind. After a call from Mrs. Belden, the meeting with Sergeant Molinson was postponed until the next day, but at that particular moment, Trixie would almost take his lecture over lying in bed doing nothing. The only thing she could do was run the facts of the mystery through her mind, trying somehow to make sense of what had happened.
She had been told by her friends about Brian and Jim’s unexpected trip and how they found the rest of the Bob-Whites in the clubhouse. After calling the police, a full-fledged search had ensued. Someone had noticed two strange cars by the river, which resulted in her last minute rescue.
Still, Trixie couldn’t forget about what the man had said. What was going on with the Festival? And where had she seen that man before?
Trixie’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. As Honey appeared in her doorway, something clicked.
“That’s it!” Trixie exclaimed.
Totally perplexed, Honey wondered if last night’s ordeal had finally pushed her friend over the edge. “What’s it?” she asked.
“I know where I’ve seen that man before!”
“What man?” Honey continued to give Trixie a bewildered look.
Meanwhile, Trixie had jumped out of bed and was pacing the floor of her bedroom. “I took his picture on Tuesday!”
Honey put down her books and attempted to stop Trixie long enough to understand what was going on. “Trix! Hold on a sec! What man are you talking about?”
“Last night! The boss! I saw him when my blindfold was off for a moment and I know I took his picture! Quick, we need to call Adrianna and see if she can develop my film right away!”
“Trix! Calm down before your mom comes up here and kicks me out! I came to bring you your homework and to see how you were doing, but I guess the scare didn’t last too long.”
“Okay, I’m counting to ten. I will be calm.” Trixie ran over to the phone on her desk. She started to dial, but her hands were shaking too much.
Handing the phone over to Honey at the last moment, her friend barely recovered in time to respond to the voice at the other end of the line. “Hello? Adrianna? This is Honey Wheeler. Trixie told me that she had talked to you about developing some film for a case on Saturday morning. Is there anyway you could do it tonight? It could be rather important.”
A moment later, Honey hung up the phone and turned to Trixie. “She said it was alright. I guess I could get Jim or Brian to take me over to her house.”
Trixie gave Honey a mischievous smile, “Well, Brian is downstairs...” As Honey started to turn pink, Trixie hastily added, “but try not to let him know about the pictures. Right now, I don’t need another lecture from him.”
“Okay, Trix.” She started down the stairs to find Brian.
There was nothing left for Trixie to but wait. She walked over to her bed and settled down with a pen and a paper. This time she was going to be more organized with her thoughts. Suprisingly, the time passed quickly, and she had a pretty good list going, when a brief knock on the door caught her attention.
Looking up, Trixie felt a small flutter in her stomach, as (Jim/Dan/Regan/Steve Trachsel/Ned Schultz/Nick Roberts/the cat/other) came into her room.
“Hi,” he said as he came over to her bed. Taking a seat next to her, he brushed a stray blonde curl off her forehead. “Your mom is keeping a tight rein on everyone and not allowing many visitors, but I snuck up here when she wasn’t looking. How are you feeling?”
Trixie smiled at (Jim/Dan/Regan/Steve/Ned/Nick/the cat/other) and took his hand in hers.
“I’m doing fine. It takes a lot more than being kidnapped and almost killed to keep me down.”
(Jim/Dan/Regan/Steve/Ned/Nick/the cat/other) smiled at her. Brushing her cheek, he looked deep into her eyes and said, “You’re amazing.” Slowly, his lips began to descend to hers.
Suddenly, they were interrupted by Honey who stood in the doorway clearing her throat.
She was accompanied by Adrianna who carried a stack of pictures in her arms. “Hi, (Jim/Dan/Regan/Steve/Ned/Nick/the cat/other),” Honey said. Raising her eyebrow at Trixie’s pink cheeks, she continued, “I hope we didn’t interrupt anything.”
“No, I’m just leaving,” (Jim/Dan/Regan/Steve/Ned/Nick/the cat/other) said. Giving Trixie one last smile, he left the girls alone.
Despite the fact her romantic scene had been interrupted, Trixie was ready for action. “Let’s look at the pictures.”
Adrianna, a slender girl of medium height with curly brown hair and big brown eyes, eagerly handed over the pictures. “Trixie! I can’t believe what happened to you last night! You lead such an exciting life!”
Not one to enjoy praise, Trixie blushed uncomfortably. Seeing this, Honey turned to Adrianna and said, “But we couldn’t do what we do without help. Thank you so much for developing these pictures for us.”
Adrianna beamed. “Thank you all for inviting me to the Festival on Saturday. I really wanted to go, but I didn’t know who I could go with. Then you called, and....”
Her banter was interrupted by Trixie practically screaming, “There he is!”
Honey looked over her shoulder, “But I know that man! He’s....”
End of Chapter Six written by Amy.
Okay, so that cat really didn’t fit the scene, but I couldn’t leave him out, could I? Good luck to the author of the next chapter...
Chapter 7
Honey looked over her shoulder. "But I know that man! He’s the old man from scene 24!"
Dead silence.
"Excuse me? What are you talking about?" Adrianna asked hesitantly. What kind of people were these people anyway?
Trixie just stared, narrow-eyed, at Honey, who couldn’t contain her laughter a moment longer. Ignoring her friend’s hilarity for the moment, Trixie just sighed and explained patiently to Adrianna, "You ever see Monty Python & the Holy Grail? ‘He’s the old man from scene 24’ is a line from the movie. I’ve been introducing Miss Wheeler here to ‘low culture’. Who knew there’d be such peasant stock in our reigning debutante?"
Honey laughed even harder, her arms wrapped tight around her stomach. "Stop! I’m being repressed!" Tears streamed from her eyes as she collapsed backward on Trixie’s bed.
Lightly, Trixie slapped at Honey’s leg. "Come on, Honey, this is serious."
"Now we see the violence inherent in the system!" she shrieked, unable to stop herself.
Trixie, feeling the contagion of Honey’s laughter, began to giggle. "I’ve created a monster."
Adrianna just looked from one to the other, hopelessly confused. "So, um, do you know this guy?"
Still giggling, Honey wiped her eyes and sat up. "I didn’t really get a good look. Let me see it again." Taking the photo from Trixie, she held it under the light. Sighing, she admitted, "No, I really don’t know who this guy is. Sorry." She handed the photo back to Trixie.
Thinking a moment, Trixie said slowly, "Maybe Moms or Dad know this guy. Or even Mrs. Vanderpoel. She knows everybody, even though she never seems to go anywhere."
Honey nodded. "That’s a good idea. Too bad you’re grounded."
"Well, let’s see if my parents know who he is. Then we’ll see about Mrs. Vanderpoel," Trixie suggested. Getting up, she led the other girls in search of her mother.
They found Helen Belden on her hands and knees in the kitchen, surrounded by pots and pans of every conceivable shape and design, reorganizing her cabinets. Completely absorbed in her task, she didn’t notice her daughter until Trixie asked, "Moms? Can I talk to you for a second?"
"Goodness, Trixie! Don’t scare me like that!" she said, irritation in her normally calm voice.
"Sorry, Moms. What are you doing?" Trixie asked.
Her mother sighed heavily. "I was just looking for my cast iron gingerbread form to bake that gingerbread haunted house for Bobby’s class party. I had to clear out the cabinets to find it, and then I decided that, since I had emptied them, I should probably just go ahead and reorganize. Was that what you had to come down here to ask?"
Guilt pricked at Trixie’s conscience. She could have been, should have been, helping her mother instead of just sitting upstairs daydreaming while Honey went to get Adrianna. "Sorry, Moms. Is this a bad time?"
Helen put down the stock pot she’d been holding and sat cross-legged on the floor. "No, go ahead. What’s up?"
Trixie cleared her throat and aimed for nonchalance. "Well, we were just wondering if by chance you might have ever seen the man in this photograph." She leaned over a tall stack of pots and handed the picture to her mother.
Helen took it and examined it carefully. "Who? This man in the center with the silver hair? Or the one just behind him to the left?"
"The one just behind him? Which guy is that?" Stepping carefully closer, Trixie crouched behind her mother to better see the photo.
Helen indicated a small, heavy-set man standing several feet back from the man Trixie originally asked about. The little man seemed to be chewing his lip, so Trixie mentally dubbed him "Worry Man". Helen was saying, "I only ask because I know them both. Or should I say, I know of them both." She handed the photo back to her daughter.
"So, who are they?" Trixie asked.
"First," her mother ordered kindly, "tell me why you have their picture."
"Those idiots! Those freakin’ idiots! How can they be so stupid as to get caught by the Sleepyside Police Department!"
"Well, Boss, the police here solve a lot of crimes, you know?"
"You mean, the teenagers here solve a lot of crimes! That Molinson couldn’t add two and two with an abacus!"
"An aba-what?"
"An abacus! Get an education, you dolt! What am I paying you for?!"
"Well, actually, Boss, now that you mention it, I ain’t been paid yet for the—"
"And you ain’t getting paid until the deal is set and the job is done! When Sleepyside finally wakes up and admits to the injustices they’ve done me, then we’ll see about payment! Oh, yes! Then we’ll see!"
"Molinson here. Sorry, Mrs. Van Cleef. The police can not come out and investigate every time your TV reception goes out! Why don’t you just get cable and forget about it?" Molinson listened a few more moments to the indignant Mrs. Van Cleef, then said, "I understand your concern, Ma’am, but really, this is out of our jurisdiction. You’ll need to call the FCC if orbiting satellites are beaming the wrong signals to you. I’ll transfer you back to the front desk and Officer Malone will be happy to get you their number, is that all right? Thank you, Mrs. Van Cleef. Always a pleasure to hear from you." Molinson sighed, put the phone on hold and transferred the call to the front desk. He shouted, "Hey, Malone! Get Mrs. Van Cleef the FCC’s number again, okay?"
"Right away, sir!" the youthful voice called back.
Molinson shook his head. Now, where was he? Oh, yes. The box of coins. He’d had them checked over by a local numismatist, who confirmed his suspicions. The coins were junk. So what were they doing on a park bench being found by Trixie Belden, Junior Private Pain In His Butt? He had to hand it to her, though. She’d been in the right place at the right time too many times for him to discount her budding detective skills. If he had started crime solving as a teenager, would he have been half as successful? Truthfully, he doubted it.
Of course the real problem was that Trixie had better instincts than he. That really drove him crazy. He’d had to study hard and often to rise to his position. To have some Nancy Drew Wanna-Be in his town, solving his cases for him and in half the time, drove him crazy. Where was the justice? When would it be his turn to be the hero in the papers?
Idly fingering one of the cheaply reproduced coins, he daydreamed about Trixie. What kind of woman was she going to grow up to become? Beautiful and graceful, like her mother? He smiled, picturing Trixie in a Donna Reed apron and pearls, baking cookies and pouring him an after-dinner brandy. His mind took a decidedly private turn and, for a moment, he lost all track of his surroundings.
Officer Malone knocked on his boss’s door, a bit worried to see a goofy smile on Molinson’s face. "Uh, sir? There’s someone here to see you. Says it’s urgent."
Molinson shook his head and stood up. "I’ll be right there. Did you get a name?"
"No, sir. She just said she needed to talk to you in person and in private."
"Oh, all right. Send her in, then." Molinson refilled his mug with cold water from the dispenser and drank it quickly. What was he thinking before? Him and Trixie Belden? He shook his head and filled his mug once more. That sort of thing only happened in bad novels and made-for-TV movies, not in real life!
He sighed. I need to get out more.
End of Chapter Seven written by Shana.
Chapter 8
4:30 p.m., Thursday, October 28th.
Crabapple Farm"Moms, what do you mean that you know OF the guys in the picture?" questioned Trixie.
"Well, it was a few years back, but I remember seeing their pictures in the paper regarding some sort of money laundering scandal. Your father would actually be able to tell you more about it than I can as the bank was directly involved. He should be home in about an hour or so. Ask him about it over dinner. Now, if you'd all excuse me, I'm going to finish cleaning this up so I can have dinner ready for you guys when your father makes it home. Are all you kids joining us as well?"
"Jim and I have to get back to school. We both have tests tomorrow and we've already skipped two days of classes. You'll keep us updated. Right, Trix?" asked Brian.
"You guys be careful, okay? We'll be home next weekend for sure. Sure hate missing the excitement and especially Mrs. Belden's cooking. Think you would like to come and work in the cafeteria at school? We'd possibly get decent food and not have to continually order out for pizza," grinned Jim.. "We'd better run. If we leave now we'll be able to get in a few hours of studying at least."
After a quick round of hugs and good-byes, Brian and Jim headed back to school, stopping off at Manor House to pick up Jim's bag.
"Speaking of tests, we have a math test tomorrow morning," added Honey after the boys left and everyone moved into the living room to let Mrs. Belden tackle the kitchen. "We can all study together though as we all have our books here. This way, too, if we all get our homework done before dinner then we can discuss what's been going on with Mr. Belden after we clean up the kitchen."
Everyone nodded in agreement and went and got their books. When Mrs. Belden checked on what the were up to about thirty minutes later they had books and papers scattered over the floor and were all diligently working on their homework for the following morning.
"Wow, this isn't something you see everyday!" exclaimed Mrs. Belden.
Everyone looked up and laughed.
End of Chapter Eight written by Sarah.
note: I apologize for how short this is and how I'm really putting off the plot/story, but I realized that Jim and Brian skipped a number of class days (which isn't always the best idea in college!). It's not that I don't like them. =) I also needed to add a math test because we all know how much Trixie LOVES math--and because I myself have a math test tomorrow night.
Chapter 9
6:00 p.m. Thursday, October 28th
Crabapple Farm"Soup's on!" Mrs. Belden called just as Trixie finished her last math problem.
"Thank heavens," Trixie muttered. "My stomach is growling louder than a grizzly bear!"
Everyone got their books and papers picked up and made their way into the kitchen. Peter Belden came in through the back door just as they were seating themselves at the kitchen table.
Trixie was really excited to ask her dad about the money laundering scandal. She still hadn’t answered her mother about why she had the photograph and she knew they wouldn’t approve of her diving back into danger after what had just happened to her.
She would just ask her father point blank when the time felt right and hope that she could come up with a good explanation as to why she had a photograph of these hoodlums.
"Hi daddy!" Trixie said, looking up at her father.
"How is my favorite gumshoe tonight?" Peter asked as he planted a kiss on the top of her head.
Peter Belden admired his only daughter very much and even though her name was on every gray hair on his head, he was very proud of her.
He made his way to his seat at the head of the table while Mrs. Belden poured iced tea in everyone’s glass. As she poured tea into Peter’s glass she glanced over at Trixie.
"Trixie has quite an interesting picture to ask you about, dear."
"Well, then let me take a look."
Trixie couldn’t believe her mother brought the subject up right off the bat but was relieved that she didn’t have to herself.
"Um, well, Moms said you would know about these guys in this picture." Trixie handed the photo across the table to her father; she knew what was coming next.
"You never did answer me as to why you have this photo, Trixie."
Trixie just stared at her mother hoping her answer would be satisfying.
"Well, Mrs. Belden," Honey said quickly, saving the day. "Trixie and I are contemplating the wonderful world of Photography. Trixie decided to take pictures in town one afternoon just to capture the different expressions on people’s faces. We got such a kick out of the expression on that short little guy in the background! So much so, that Trixie has since dubbed him worry man." Honey tried to stifle a laugh. "We also found the scowl on this other man's face quite interesting! We wanted to see if anyone knew them so we could put names to the faces."
Trixie was relieved that Honey had come up with an excuse and that it wasn’t too far from the truth.
"I didn’t know you were interested in Photography?" Peter said to Trixie.
"Neither did I, Daddy, until recently," Trixie honestly admitted.
"Actually, Adrianna here, who is going to the Festival with us on Saturday, is helping us out with the development of the photos and showing us the ropes."
"Well," Mrs. Belden said with a look of concern on her face, "as long as that’s all there is to it. I don’t want anymore trouble with you, Trixie! You worry us to death!"
Trixie affectionately smiled at her mother and quickly got back to the photograph.
"Well, Daddy, who’s in the picture?"
Peter Belden had a great look of concern on his face.
"First, Trixie, you must know that these are two dangerous men. It concerns me that they were in town due to the serious nature of their crime. I’m wondering if they are out on bail or if they have already served their sentence?"
"Oh Daddy, who are they?" Trixie was about to bust with curiosity.
"Well, if memory serves right, the short one in the background is Stubby Simmons. The other one is Larry Jones, a.k.a. Laundering Larry."
"I remember reading something about them a few years back in the papers," Mart added.
"Oh, they definitely made the papers alright," Peter continued with his story. "They were busted years back for laundering money and our bank was the one who caught on to them."
"What exactly do you mean when you say laundering money?" Honey asked Mr. Belden with a puzzled look on her face.
Mart couldn’t resist this one and answered for his father. "Money is laundered to conceal criminal activity associated with it, including the crimes that generate it, such as drug trafficking, or illegal tax avoidance. Plain and simple, money laundering is driven by criminal activity."
"That’s right," Peter confirmed. "It conceals the true source of funds so that they can be used freely. It is the support service that allows criminals to enjoy the fruits of their crimes. It allows crime to pay and, often, pay well."
Trixie was intrigued by the subject, yet annoyed at Mart's arrogance. "Okay, smarty pants, you explained what money laundering is, now explain how it is done!"
"With pleasure," Mart said as he sipped his iced tea and then cleared his throat. "Money laundering is a diverse and often complex process. It basically involves three independent steps that often occur simultaneously.
"First there is placement, physically placing bulk cash proceeds. Next you have layering, which means separating the proceeds from criminal activity from their origins through layers of complex financial transactions. Thirdly, you have integration, providing an apparently legitimate explanation for the illicit proceeds.
"Now, for money laundering to be successful, there must be no "paper trail" to connect the three steps of this process. The Bank Secrecy Act requirements must be evaded, manipulated, or ignored. In our great country of the United States of America, this is most commonly done by infiltrating the banking system or physically smuggling the currency out of the country, especially to countries with rigid standards of secrecy, making tracking difficult for U.S. law enforcement agents."
Everyone sat at the table with looks of astonishment on their faces.
Mr. Belden finally spoke up. "Mart, I’m impressed….I think."
Everyone laughed including Trixie who was proud of her brother for being so knowledgeable.
"Mart is absolutely right," Mr. Belden said. "These two were part of a laundering scheme at our bank. One of the officials noticed that a customer, Stubby Simmons, who was a jewelry broker at the time, was making large cash deposits that did not seem appropriate to his usual business. Those transactions had totaled more than twenty-five million dollars over three months."
"Wow!" Trixie exclaimed. Twenty-five million dollars in three months! Not too intelligent on his part using a small banking institution!"
"You are also absolutely right," Mr. Belden told Trixie. "In addition to filing the CTR reports required for transactions of more than ten thousand dollars, our bank also notified the IRS Criminal Investigation Division. At the other bank, an astute officer became suspicious when a customer, Larry Jones, who ran a grocery store and check cashing service stopped taking cash back for the checks deposited. This change led the banker to notify law enforcement authorities.
"Together, Stubby Simmons and Laundering Larry’s suspicious banking helped uncover and disrupt an operation that had laundered about $1.2 billion over two years. More than a hundred and twenty-seven people were arrested, a Colombian bank was indicted, and one ton of cocaine was seized."
"No wonder I remember something about it in the papers. This was huge!" Mart exclaimed.
By this time, Trixie was very unsettled. It had just hit her how dangerous these individuals really were that had kidnapped her. She sat for a moment in silence taking it all in.
"Trix, are you alright?" Honey asked.
"Yeah, I think so," Trixie said absentmindedly taking a bite of her chicken dumplings.
She didn’t know whether to say that these were the individuals who were responsible for her kidnapping.
I’ll just keep silent for now and talk to Honey later on, Trixie thought to herself.
After they had finished dinner, everyone helped clear the table and get the dishes done.
Mrs. Belden was very unsettled about the story her husband had just told them.
"It wouldn’t hurt to show this picture to Sergeant Molinson tomorrow when you meet with him so he can check out whether these two are legitimately out of jail," she told Trixie.
"I know, Moms, and thanks for being so concerned, but really, everything will be fine."
Changing the subject, Trixie thanked Adrianna for developing the pictures in such a short amount of time and reminded her to plan on attending the festival with them on Saturday.
Honey thanked the Beldens for a scrumptious dinner and told them they really needed to head home.
Trixie offered to walk the girls outside.
As they were going out the door, Honey could tell that Trixie needed to talk so she sent Adrianna on ahead.
"I’ll catch up in a minute," Honey called to her, waving her hand.
"Alright, Trixie Belden, are you thinking what I am thinking?"
"If it has anything to do with the fact that Stubby Simmons and Laundering Larry are my kidnappers--yeah!"
Honey felt her stomach start to knot up. "We have to tell Sergeant Molinson, Trixie."
Trixie shook her head and clenched her fist. "I know that’s the right thing to do but I just have a feeling we should wait."
"Wait for what!" Honey cried. "For these creeps to kidnap you again or hurt someone else?"
"I just have a gut feeling that we should wait, Honey, and that’s that! Now run along and catch up with Adrianna. We have a big day tomorrow after school since we have to meet with Sergeant Molinson."
Trixie gave Honey a quick hug and sent her on her way. She looked up in the night sky and stared at the clusters of stars scattered about.
I think for once in my life I’m not sure what to do, Trixie thought to herself, These are really dangerous men we are dealing with, but I am going to sleep on it and I’m sure by morning I will know what to do."
As Trixie started to make her way back to the farmhouse, she was grabbed from behind. A big hand clamped on her mouth stifling her scream.
Trixie could feel his hot breath on her ear as he spat the words: "Breathe one word to Molinson that you know who we are and you’re dead."
The next thing she knew, she was shoved to the ground and could hear footsteps running off in the distance.
She scrambled to her feet and ran into the farmhouse as fast as she could.
She didn’t stop until she was in her bedroom. She shut the door and stood there, leaning against it for a moment, her knees shaking. With her back leaning on the door, she slid down to the floor like a crumpled rag doll and started to cry.
Okay, Trixie Belden, just what are you going to do now?
End of Chapter Nine written by Lori.
Chapter 10
Trixie became vaguely aware of someone calling her from the hall outside her bedroom.
"Trixie?...Trix, are you OK?"
"I’m fine, Mart," Trixie replied, trying desperately to hide the sobs that were escaping from her throat.
"You don’t sound fine," called Mart.
It was clear that Mart wasn’t going to leave without first being satisfied Trixie was alright. If she didn’t let him into her room soon, the entire household would be standing outside her bedroom door.
With a loud sigh Trixie heaved herself off the bedroom floor and let Mart into her room.
"Trix, you look awful," Mart exclaimed, too worried to use his trademark ‘big’ words.
"Shh," Trixie hissed, rushing to close the door behind him. "I’ve been crying, so what? I told you everything was fine!"
"Calm down, Trix, you are allowed to cry you know. You can’t be strong all the time.""Some detective I’ll make, falling into a blubbering heap whenever..." Trixie stopped in midsentence, undecided as to whether or not to tell Mart about her ‘encounter’ with her kidnappers.
"Whenever what?" Mart narrowed his eyes at her. "Trixie, how often do you fall into a ‘blubbering heap’ as you so eloquently put it?" Mart questioned with raised eyebrows.
"It’s just..." Trixie started.
"It’s just what, Trixie? You don’t cry for just any reason. Tell me what happened."
So, Trixie proceeded to tell Mart about being threatened by one of her kidnappers only thirty minutes before. As she told the story her tears began falling anew. Mart, who was patiently listening to her story put an arm around her shoulders and gently wiped some of the tears from her face.
"Do you think I should still go to see Molinson?" Trixie asked after finishing her story.
"Of course you should tell him!" Mart exclaimed. "You can't let these crooks bully you around like this. There is no telling how long it will go on. I think you should call Molinson now. That way your kidnappers won't even know if you've spoken to the police or not."
"Maybe they've bugged the phone," Trixie argued.
Mart rolled his eyes. "You've been watching too many movies. Just call Molinson, let him deal with everything. He'll know what to do."
"But what if they find out? They might kidnap me again, they could do anything!"
"Look, Trix, why don't you get some sleep and you call him tomorrow morning. Things will seem clearer then," Mart replied, wiping more tears from her face.
Why am I still so reluctant to go to Molinson? Trixie wondered.
Mart's arguments were all valid, yet she still felt there was some detail she had missed. Something she had seen somewhere that was somehow linked to the box of coins she found on the park bench.
Mart was still brushing the odd tear from Trixie's face. Instead of gently wiping her face with his had he started rubbing at a spot near her mouth."Mart, what are you doing?" Trixie asked.
"You've got some shiny stuff on you face," he replied, still rubbing at her face.
Trixie moved over to the mirror on her dressing table. All around her mouth was a faint shiny substance. Frowning, she started trying to wipe it off.
"The guy who grabbed me must have had this stuff on his hands," Trixie explained to Mart.
"Great, so all we have to do is find a guy with shiny hands," Mart replied sarcastically.
Trixie gave him a withering glance.
Identifying them isn't the problem, thought Trixie.
"Thanks for listening, Mart," Trixie said. "I think I will try to get some sleep now."
"If you like, I can give you and Honey a lift into school tomorrow," Mart offered.
"Jeepers!" exclaimed Trixie. "I forgot all about Honey."
Trixie raced from her bedroom to the phone in the hall. Please let her be safe, Trixie thought as she frantically dialed the phone.
"Hello, Wheeler residence."
"Hi, Miss Trask, it’s Trixie. Is Honey home yet?"
End of Chapter Ten written by Rach.
Author's note: I hope it's not too short and boring! I really enjoyed writing this story but as luck would have it, I have had an incredibly busy week at work leaving me with only half an hour to write it. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter and I m looking forward to reading where the next author goes with it - Rach.