Group Writing Project #2
Note: I decided to write a regular mystery. It was hard to keep this around 4,000 words (I went over by, oh, a thousand words!) and convincingly work in all ten elements along with the actual mystery. I omitted some mystery details in favor of the required elements and got a bit rushed at the end trying to keep the word count low enough. Am I disqualified? Hope you like it, anyhow. It's still very short.
The Ghost Cave Mystery
By Zap
Trixie shivered. It was a chilly day and she’d left her Bob-White jacket in her locker. Now she was debating whether she had time to get it before the bus left.
"We only have a few minutes before the bus leaves," Honey said, reading her mind.
"I can’t leave it here over the weekend," Trixie decided. "I’ll try and be quick."
Trixie hurried back into the near-empty school and fumbled with her locker combination. She messed up and had to start over. Trying too hard, she thought grimly.
"I don’t care!"
Trixie looked up at the sound of angry voices. Two people in the classroom across the hall were having an argument.
"Well, you’d just better start caring, Eleanor! Remember, you have a lot to lose."
"Are you threatening me, Jack?"
"Give the teacher a gold star," sneered the person called Jack. "Don’t be late for our appointment tomorrow."
The man strode out of the room. He stopped short when he saw Trixie. His gray eyes narrowed and his lips were tight. She flushed and turned away from his glare. She jerked open her locker door.
As she reached in to grab her jacket, she felt him pass by. Out of the corner of her eye she watched him disappear down the hall.
Now, what was that all about? she wondered. She closed her locker and peeked into the classroom the man had just left. Why, it’s Mrs. Foley, the geology teacher.
Mrs. Foley sat at her desk with her head in her hands.
Trixie considered speaking to her, but then she caught sight of the time on the classroom clock above where Mrs. Foley sat.
Uh-oh.
Trixie rushed back down the hall and out the front doors. Honey stood on the steps waiting. She shook her head at Trixie.
"Too late," she said, sighing.
Trixie groaned. "Oh, darn it! But why did you stay behind, Honey?"
"Well, I didn’t think I could just leave you alone." Honey smiled.
Honey is a true friend, Trixie thought.
"So, how do we get home, Trix?"
"Gosh, beats me," Trixie said. "I guess we could walk if necessary."
"I could call Jim," Honey suggested. "Of course, he just went home on the bus and might not be thrilled to come back for us."
"We can’t call the boys," Trixie reminded her. "They are in a hurry to get started on their trip."
"Oh, darn, that’s right."
Honey’s brother, Jim, Trixie’s brothers Brian and Mart, and Dan Mangan were going on an overnight fishing trip with Mr. Belden and Mr. Wheeler.
"Maybe Tom could come for us," Honey started and then she sighed. "Oh, no, he’s probably not back from New York yet. Mother is staying at our apartment there for the weekend and he drove her.
Honey and Trixie stood there, not sure what they should do.
"Why are you two still here?" someone asked them.
Trixie and Honey turned.
"Oh, hello, Mrs. Foley," said Honey. "We missed the bus and are trying to figure out a way home."
"Looks like we’ll have to walk," Trixie said, scanning the teacher’s face for signs of her earlier distress.
Mrs. Foley smiled at them. "I could give you a lift."
"Oh, no, we wouldn’t want to impose," Honey said quickly.
"It’s not an imposition, really," Mrs. Foley assured them. "I’m driving out to see Mrs. Elliot, so I’ll be going that way, anyhow."
"Well, all right, if it’s no trouble," Honey said.
On the drive home, Honey and Mrs. Foley chatted pleasantly in the front seat. Trixie sat in the back, listening to Ella Fitzgerald on the radio singing Ac-cent-tchu-ate The Positive.
My favorite singer of all time, Trixie thought.
She studied the teacher. Mrs. Foley was rather young for a widow, only in her thirties. She was a pretty woman, but sensible in her manner of clothing and hair. She wore no make-up, but Trixie didn’t blame her. She wasn’t very fond of the stuff herself.
"I had no idea you were an archaeologist!" Honey was saying with admiration. "How exciting that must have been!"
Mrs. Foley laughed. "Exciting? I wasn’t Indiana Jones, Honey. Archaeology is rather tedious work most of the time, but I admit there is a thrill in uncovering the past."
"How did you wind up in Sleepyside teaching rocks?" Trixie asked bluntly.
"Trixie! Mrs. Foley doesn’t teach rocks, she teaches geology. And Art Appreciation, too."
"Well, I know. I was in her class last year," mumbled Trixie.
"Well, Trixie," said Mrs. Foley as she pulled into Crabapple Farm’s drive, "I just didn’t feel like staying in the field after the accident that killed my husband."
"Oh, gosh, Mrs. Foley," stammered Trixie. "I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you think of that."
"That’s all right," Mrs. Foley said. "I think about Charles often and my memories are mostly happy."
"I’m going to get out here, Mrs. Foley," Honey said. "Thanks so much for the ride."
"Yes, thank you!" Trixie said, stepping out of the car.
The two girls waved as Mrs. Foley backed her car out of the drive.
"Well, Honey, do you need to run home and get your things?"
Honey nodded. "Yes, I’ll be back in an hour. I can’t wait!"
Honey was spending the night with Trixie at Crabapple Farm. It was to be just the two of them and they were very excited about it.
In the house, Trixie discovered the men of the family had already left. Only Mrs. Belden and youngest brother Bobby were home.
"Where have you been?" asked Mrs. Belden.
"Sorry, Moms, I missed the bus," Trixie said sheepishly.
"And you missed saying goodbye to your father and brothers."
"I’m a brother," Bobby said. "Say goodbye to me."
"Soon enough," Mrs. Belden said, ruffling her son’s hair. "Is Honey coming for dinner, Trixie?"
"Sure, Moms. She feels honored that you’re whipping up your special burgers just for us."
"Well, for me and Bobby, too," Mrs. Belden said. "Oh, I hate to leave you girls alone tonight."
"Moms, we’ve been over this a million times," Trixie moaned. "We’ll be perfectly fine and we can always call Manor House in an emergency."
"I know, I know." Her mother smiled. "I can’t help but worry. But Mrs. Vanderpoel needs someone to help her until tomorrow and she’s been such a good neighbor to us."
"How long will she be laid up?"
"Oh, another two weeks, probably. Broken bones at her age are not an easy matter."
Trixie helped her mother in the kitchen until Honey arrived.
"Moms, is it okay if Honey and I go to see Mr. Maypenny before dinner?"
"Trixie, dinner will be ready in an hour," Mrs. Belden said.
"I know, we’ll be back by then. We bought him a gift for his birthday and want to give it to him."
"I thought Dan said his birthday was last week."
"It was," Honey said. "But we didn’t know it. Mr. Maypenny didn’t want people to know."
"Oh, all right," Mrs. Belden agreed. "But don’t be late for dinner. You girls will have to do all the clean-up, you know. Bobby and I are leaving right after dinner."
The girls delivered their gift to Mr. Maypenny who huffed about the fuss. But Trixie could see he was pleased they’d thought of him and he really seemed to like the hunting knife they’d bought him.
As they left Mr. Maypenny’s, Trixie heard an engine revving up nearby.
"What on earth is that?" she asked Honey.
"Someone’s trespassing," Honey said. "Sounds like a motorcycle."
"Riding a motorcycle through the preserve! Honey, we have to find out who it is."
"But Trixie, we have to get back for dinner.
"It won’t take but a second," Trixie said optimistically.
The girls listened and tried to follow the sound of the engine.
"Look!" Trixie pointed to the trail. There were fresh tire tracks in the muddy earth.
They followed them a short distance to where they veered off the trail.
"What a crazy rider!" Honey said as they continued to follow the tracks.
"Look, there's mud all up the side of these rocks," Trixie said, starting to climb.
"What is it?" Honey called.
"I think--oh, Honey, I think it's a cave!"
"A cave? On the preserve?" Honey sounded doubtful.
"Yes! It's too dark to see anything, though."
"Trixie, we're going to be late for dinner," Honey said.
Trixie sighed and climbed back down.
"We’ll come back tomorrow and investigate the cave," Trixie said.
"Okay," agreed Honey.
As Trixie placed the popcorn in the microwave, the phone began to ring.
"I’ll get it," Honey said, feeling at home at Crabapple Farm
"Probably Moms checking on us." Trixie pressed the start button.
"Hello!" Honey answered cheerfully into the phone.
"Tell her we’re okay and—" Trixie stopped.
Honey’s eyes had grown wide.
"What’s the matter, Honey?"
When Honey didn’t reply, Trixie snatched the phone from her.
"Hello?" she said. The sound of strange breathing greeted her. She slammed the phone down. "An obscene call!" she said with disgust. "Honestly, Honey, why didn’t you just hang up?"
"I looked at the caller ID before I picked up," Honey said in a whisper. "Look at it, Trixie."
Trixie frowned. She pushed the "previous" button. "Manor House!"
"Trixie, something is terribly wrong!"
"Now, wait a minute." Trixie tried to sound calm. "It was probably someone playing a joke."
"Who would do that, Trixie? Surely, you don’t suspect Miss Trask?"
"Well, no, but—"
Bing!
Trixie and Honey both jumped as the microwave announced their popcorn was ready.
"We’re being so silly," Trixie said, hurriedly removing the popcorn and pouring it into a bowl.
"Miss Trask shouldn’t even be home right now," Honey said. "She and Mr. Lytell were going bowling with Tom and Celia."
"Then who’s at Manor House?"
"Nobody." Honey’s voice wavered. "Regan is in his apartment over the garage, but nobody else is home."
Trixie and Honey stared at each other.
"Somebody must have broken in," Trixie finally said.
"Oh, Trixie!" Tears sprang to Honey’s hazel eyes. "What do we do?"
"We—we—" Trixie rapidly tried to think of the best thing to do. "We call Regan and tell him what happened. He can check out the house."
"But if someone’s there, Regan could be in trouble!"
"Regan’s no dummy. If it looks dangerous, he’ll call the police."
"I’m really scared, Trixie. That breathing was creepy. It was so fast! And why did whoever it is call us?"
"I don’t know."
Trixie dialed Regan’s number and explained the situation to him. He sounded calm, but serious, as he agreed to check the house.
"I’ll call you back in a few minutes," he told Trixie. "Sit tight." Then he added, "Check the locks on the doors, okay?"
Trixie gulped and hung up the phone.
"What did he say?" asked Honey anxiously.
"He said he was going to check Manor House and--" Trixie paused, trying to look nonchalant. "—we should make sure the doors are locked, just in case."
"Oh my gosh!" Honey sounded terrified. "Trixie, what if this has something to do with the cave? Somebody doesn’t want us snooping around it."
The thought had occurred to Trixie as well. But she didn’t want to increase Honey’s concern.
"There’s nothing in that old cave except rocks and dirt," Trixie said. "Nobody cares if we’re there or not."
"But the motorcycle--"
"Let’s check the doors, okay?"
Quietly, if a bit nervously, the girls checked. Not surprisingly, the front door was unlocked. Trixie quickly turned the deadbolt.
After securing the doors and, just to be safe, the windows, there was nothing to do but wait for Regan’s call. Trixie offered Honey the bowl of popcorn.
"I can’t," Honey said. "What is taking Regan so long?"
"It hasn’t been that long," Trixie insisted, munching on some kernels. She mentally calculated how long it would take for Regan to leave his garage apartment and get inside the house. He might look through all the rooms, too. It could take him quite awhile. And only five minutes had gone by so far.
"What if—what if he never calls back?" Honey’s voice trembled.
Trixie was silent. She didn’t want to consider the possibility.
The phone shrieked, causing Trixie to drop the bowl she held. Popcorn spilled onto the floor.
She hurriedly answered the phone, catching it on its third ring. "Hello? Oh, Regan!"
Honey sighed and relaxed.
"What? You’re kidding!" Trixie cried. She started laughing. "I can’t believe it. Yes, thank you, Regan!"
Trixie hung up and turned to Honey. Her blue eyes were tearing up, her face was red, and her laughs wouldn’t stop. "Oh, Honey! Oh!"
"What is it, Trixie?" Honey demanded. "What is so amusing?"
"I--" Trixie gasped, her body shaking. "I can’t believe it! Just a second." Trixie tried to compose herself.
"Trixie Belden, will you please tell me what is going on? What did Regan say?"
"Okay, okay," she puffed, calming down a bit. "Honey, the phone call—it was from Patch!"
Honey stared at Trixie, bewildered. "Patch? Trixie, Patch is a dog, he couldn’t--"
"But he did! Regan found him tangled up in the phone cord in Jim’s room. I guess he hit the speed dial in his struggle to get free."
Honey finally caught on. "Oh, no!" she giggled. "No wonder that breathing sounded weird. It was Patch’s panting!"
"And to think we thought someone was stalking us!" Trixie exclaimed.
The girls laughed until they were both clutching their aching sides.
"Oh, we have to pull ourselves together," said Honey. "Look at that mess of popcorn. And I didn’t even get to eat any."
"We’ll make some more." Trixie hesitated a moment. "And, Honey, I think tomorrow morning we should explore that cave we found today."
"Why? Rocks and dirt aren’t interesting."
"We don’t know what’s in that cave. A cave is a very mysterious thing, you know."
"But, Trixie, you said—" Honey stopped. "Fine, we’ll go to the cave tomorrow. It probably will be just dirt and rocks."
Trixie grinned. She hoped not.
"Darn fog!" Trixie muttered. "Now Honey and I can’t investigate the cave."
Honey heard her. "The fog will probably clear up before noon," she said.
"Noon! Moms will be back and I’ll be stuck with Bobby or some chore."
The fog did clear up around eleven and Moms and Bobby arrived home just after that. Honey thanked Mrs. Belden and went home to Manor House. Trixie and she made plans to go to the cave later.
Bobby had enjoyed his little trip to Mrs. Vanderpoel’s.
"This is my magic wand which Old Brom made for me," Bobby said proudly.
"Looks like a stick to me," observed Trixie.
"From a magic tree!" Bobby insisted. "And it’s mine. You can’t use it and neither can Mart or Brian. I wrote my name on it with paint."
"That’s right," Mrs. Belden said. "Now, why don’t you show Reddy your magic wand?"
Bobby frowned. "Okay, but he better not eat it!"
"Just don’t throw it!" Trixie called after her little brother, giggling.
"Your dad and brothers should be back soon," Mrs. Belden said.
"Moms, I hate to ask this but may I go horseback riding with Honey? Regan says the horses could use the exercise."
"That isn’t my problem, Trixie. I have to fix some lunch for Bobby and start doing laundry. I was hoping you might watch Bobby for me while I did that."
I knew she would, Trixie groaned inwardly. She decided a compromise was in order.
"Well, how about if I take Bobby on a walk in the woods with me and Honey right after lunch?" Trixie said reluctantly.
Mrs. Belden smiled. "I think that would be nice of you, Trixie."
I’m not trying to be nice, Trixie thought, feeling a flash of guilt.
So, after lunch Trixie and Honey and Bobby went into the woods. Trixie was in a hurry, but Bobby was not. He kept stopping every few minutes to look at something.
"Come on, Bobby," Trixie said impatiently.
He aimed his wand at her. "I could turn you into a frog."
"Yeah, go right ahead, but let’s keep moving!"
"We’re going to a special place," Honey said to Bobby, holding out her hand. "A secret cave."
"Really?" Bobby’s eyes widened.
After that Bobby eagerly went with them, clutching Honey’s hand.
"Thanks," Trixie said to her best friend.
They arrived at the cave.
"Now, you wait down here," Trixie told Bobby. "I don’t want you climbing the rocks and getting hurt."
"I want to see the cave!" Bobby yelled.
"No! Wait here like a good boy. Okay?"
Bobby looked displeased.
Trixie and Honey carefully climbed the rocks until they were at the cave’s entrance. Trixie clicked on the flashlight she’d brought with her.
"Here we go!" she said excitedly.
She didn’t know what to expect. She’d been spelunking in a much bigger cave when the Bob-Whites discovered the ghost fish. This cave was obviously tiny, but Trixie couldn’t help but feel tingly.
"Honey, look!"
"I don’t believe it!" Honey cried out. "Oh, Trixie, we’ve discovered stuff!"
Trixie laughed. "Stuff?" The stuff was some pottery and stone statues that were piled in the back of the cave.
The two friends examined the discovery up close.
"Wow, this could be valuable," Honey said. "Ancient Indian artifacts."
"Yes, but those bootprints aren’t ancient," Trixie said, her light aimed at the muddy floor of the cave.
"Trixie?"
Trixie whirled around. "Bobby Belden! I told you that you couldn’t come up here!" Furiously she grabbed him and dragged him out of the cave.
Despite Bobby’s protests, Trixie and Honey managed to get him down safely and quickly.
"We’re going home!" Trixie said irritably.
"But I want to explore the cave," whined Bobby.
"Home!" Trixie was adamant. "We’ll come back tomorrow, Honey, just the two of us."
"Mart, could I borrow your Polaroid camera?"
"What for?" Mart asked, munching on some Cheez-it.
"Does it matter? To take some pictures, of course!"
"Hey, that film is not cheap," Mart said. "I think I have a right to know why you want to take pictures with my camera."
"It’s for school," Trixie lied. "I’ll only take one picture with it, okay?"
"Elaborate on this school business."
"I want some Cheez-it," Bobby pushed his way next to Mart and grabbed at the snack box.
"Oh, no, you don’t," Mart warned, holding the box out of Bobby’s reach. "This is my own private supply of Cheez-it which I paid for. I can’t help it if you ate all the ones Moms bought, squirt."
"Your middle name must be miser," Trixie said wryly. "Not only won’t you lend me your camera, but you won’t spare a Cheez-it for your baby brother."
"I am not a baby!" Bobby shouted.
"Get real, Trix. Bobby can’t stop at one Cheez-it. It’s all or nothing with him. As for the camera, fine, borrow it, but use only one picture. Okay?"
"Thanks, Mart. I promise!"
"I can’t wait to show Mrs. Foley the picture we took at the cave today," Trixie said as they pedaled up Mrs. Foley’s street.
"I wish I knew who else had been at the cave," Honey said. "Those bootprints we saw make me nervous."
Suddenly, Trixie swerved her bicycle. Honey braked.
"Oh my gosh!" Trixie gasped. "That cat came out of nowhere!"
"That’s Buffy," Honey said. "Mrs. Martin’s cat. But she keeps her cat indoors all the time. Buffy must have escaped somehow."
"We’d better catch her then," suggested Trixie. "Mrs. Martin may be worried."
After much effort, Buffy was safely in Honey’s arms. They rang Mrs. Martin’s bell and returned Buffy to her very grateful owner. Regretfully, Trixie and Honey could not accept Mrs. Martin’s tempting offer of triple-layer chocolate cake as a thank you.
They went down the street to Mrs. Foley’s house and rang the bell.
Mrs. Foley looked surprised and not very happy to see them.
"Mrs. Foley, we have something important to show you," Trixie said.
"Yes, we thought with your knowledge of archaeology you could answer a question for us," Honey said.
The door opened wider and the man from the school, Jack, was there smirking at them.
"Bad enough she has to see you brats at school," he drawled. "You got to come to her house on a day off, too?"
"We’re sorry if we disturbed you, Mrs. Foley," Honey said, reddening.
"Oh, you didn’t," Mrs. Foley assured her. "Mr. Hitch—Uh, the gentleman was just leaving."
"Later, Eleanor," Jack said. It sounded ominous coming from him.
He slid past the girls. Trixie couldn’t help noticing his left boot had traces of mud. The mud was dried, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t recent.
Trixie and Honey looked around Mrs. Foley’s living room. Tribal masks hung on the walls, along with woven baskets. In one corner a primitive sculpture stood atop a small table. On the shelves were dozens of thick volumes. Trixie examined the titles. They were books on archaeology, mythology, and art.
She picked one up.
"Cave Treasures of Hawaii by Prof. Hubert Whitehead," she read aloud.
"This room is kind of creepy, Trixie," Honey said. "I wish there were more light."
"Sorry about that," Mrs. Foley said from the doorway. "I like my privacy, so I keep the blinds closed. But let me turn on another lamp for you."
"Thank you, Mrs. Foley. I didn’t mean to—I mean—I think it’s a very interesting room."
Mrs. Foley chuckled as she switched on another lamp. "It’s okay, Honey. I know my collection is a bit unusual to most people."
"Yuck!" Honey exclaimed. "What is that?"
"That is my shrunken head," replied Mrs. Foley with a grin. "Like it?"
"Is it real?" Trixie wanted to know.
"Yes, it is, Trixie. A genuine Jivaro Indian shrunken head. It’s also cursed."
"Cursed?" Trixie’s skin prickled.
"I don’t think I want hear about this," Honey warned, shivering. "I’m already going to have nightmares about this thing."
"No, I want to know what the curse is," Trixie pleaded. "Is it very horrible?"
"Not too horrible." Mrs. Foley smiled. "The Jivaro are the only culture in the world which practice tsantsa, or shrinking human heads. Really, it is a sub-group of the Jivaro, the Shuar, who are the true practitioners of tsantsa. This head was made by a Shuar only a century ago. By shrinking the heads of their enemies, the Shuar tribes believe they keep their spirits eternally trapped within the head and unable to do harm to them or even to dead relatives of the Shuar in the afterlife."
"You mean, according to the Shuar, there’s a spirit trapped inside this head?" Honey sounded faint.
"Yes, Honey. Trapped forever and unable to harm anyone."
"Then how can it be cursed?" Trixie asked, frowning. "I mean, it sounds innocuous as Mart would say."
"This particular head," Mrs. Foley explained, "was not the head of an enemy killed in battle. No, it’s the head of an Indian murdered by his own brother for love of a woman. This is forbidden by the Shuar. Only enemy heads are meant to be shrunken. By shrinking the head of his brother, the murderer brought misfortune and disgrace to his entire tribe including his ancestors. Thus, the head is supposed to bear the curse of that incestuous blood revenge and bring bad luck to its possessors."
"That would be you," Trixie said quietly.
"Yes." Mrs. Foley looked thoughtfully at the head. "I suppose so. I really don’t believe in curses, though."
"Mrs. Foley, I don’t mean to be rude," Honey interrupted. "But it is getting late and we want to ask you something."
"Oh, yes," Mrs. Foley said, straightening. "I’d forgotten. What is it you girls want?"
"It’s about a cave we found on the Wheelers’ game preserve," said Trixie. "It has some artifacts in it. We thought they could be from the Indians who used to live here."
Mrs. Foley paled. "Artifacts in a cave?" she snapped. "Don’t be absurd, Trixie. Any cave would have been discovered long ago, I assure you. In fact, I believe you are speaking of the Ghost Cave. I learned about it while researching local legends."
"Ghost Cave?" Honey asked nervously.
"Yes," Mrs. Foley said impatiently. "It’s nothing really, just a small cave, but it is supposed to be haunted."
"Haunted by what?" Trixie wanted to know.
"By whom," corrected Mrs. Foley. "In the early years of the settlement, a man who went mad and killed his entire family hid out in that cave while the other settlers hunted for him. They found him eventually, but he was dead. Apparently, he had just stayed in the cave and slowly starved to death. Now, his spirit is supposed to live within it."
"I never heard that story before," Honey said, frowning.
Trixie sighed. "I think I have. I vaguely recall Mart trying to frighten me one rainy night when we were kids. Of course, he said the man haunted the woods and went searching for little blonde girls."
"But that still doesn’t explain this," Honey said, holding out the Polaroid photo.
Mrs. Foley took the Polaroid and looked at it. Her hand was shaking. "What is this supposed to be?"
"We took that picture at the cave," Trixie told her. "See, it’s a pot. It looks really old. And check out the markings."
"Trixie Belden, there is nothing remarkable about this," Mrs. Foley said. "Whatever you’re seeing there and what I see in this photo is modern in origin."
"Are you sure?" Trixie pressed the teacher.
"Positive! Now, if you girls will excuse me, I have papers to grade."
"Of course, Mrs. Foley," Honey said quickly. "We have to be going anyhow. Thank you for seeing us."
It wasn’t until they were halfway home that Trixie realized Mrs. Foley had kept the photo.
Mr. and Mrs. Belden had gone out for the afternoon and dinner leaving the older Belden kids in charge of their little brother. When Trixie arrived home from Mrs. Foley’s, she discovered an emergency situation.
"Bobby’s vanished!" Brian said grimly.
"What? I thought Mart was watching him!"
"I was," Mart said. "But then Di called and I got distracted. He was in his room—or so I thought."
"Apparently he snuck out of the house," Brian told her.
"Oh no! Bobby out in the woods alone and scared!" Trixie wailed. "And it’s almost dinnertime! He’s probably hungry."
"I doubt it," Mart said. "He took my box of Cheez-it with him."
"We have to go and search for him," Trixie said. "I’ll call Jim and Honey to help us."
Jim and Honey came over and so did Dan and Diana. They split into two groups of three. Mart, Brian and Dan went one way and Trixie, Honey, and Jim another. Diana waited at Crabapple Farm in case Bobby returned on his own.
Trixie was starting to feel hopeless when Jim suddenly stopped and crouched down to the ground to look at something.
"What is it, Jim?"
"It looks like—" He stood up. "—like a Cheez-it."
"Oh, Jim! Bobby must have been here. Maybe he’s still nearby."
The three of them began calling to Bobby as they walked. Suddenly, Honey shrieked.
"Look, Trixie!" She pointed at the ground.
Trixie looked, expecting to see another Cheez-it. "A stick?" she said. "So--?"
"No, it’s Bobby’s magic wand," Honey said excitedly. She picked it up. "Look, there’s his name."
"He was here, all right," Jim said. "But why doesn’t he answer us now?"
Trixie suddenly knew where Bobby was. "Oh, no! Honey, he must have returned after we—I yelled at him."
Honey understood what Trixie was saying. "The cave!"
Nothing could have prepared Trixie for the sight of her little brother, bound and gagged, lying in a heap on the cave floor.
"Bobby!" she screamed.
She held him as Jim removed the gag and worked the ropes loose to free him.
"Who would tie up a little boy this way!" Jim shook his head in disgust and anger.
"Bobby, are you okay?" Trixie clutched her little brother to her heart.
"Oh, Trixie," Bobby wailed. "Mean men. I threw a rock at them, but they caught me."
"Sweetie, it’s okay now," Trixie said, fighting back tears. "We’re going to take you home." She turned to Jim. "I know it was that Jack person who did this."
"I ate Mart’s Cheez-it," Bobby sobbed. "Ate it all!"
"Mart doesn’t care about the Cheez-it," Trixie assured him. "Come on."
They hurried home to Crabapple Farm.
"Trixie, I think Mrs. Foley is in big trouble," Honey said as they arrived. "I tried calling her right after I got back to Manor House—because she kept the picture. There was just an endless busy signal.
"You’re right. We need to warn her about what Jack's done."
"I’ll go since I have the car," Jim suggested. "You girls take Bobby inside."
"I’m coming with you, Jim," insisted Trixie.
Jim hesitated and then he sighed. "Okay, we’d better hurry."
Halfway down Glen Road, they saw a car that was pulled over to the side and a man fiddling under the hood.
"That car seems to be having trouble," Trixie said,
"Yes, we’d better stop and see if we can help."
Jim pulled over to the side of the road and got out of the car. Trixie watched him approach the man. Suddenly, another man appeared from out of the woods. Jack! And in his hands was a gun.
Trixie had no chance to escape as Jack and the other man ushered Jim back to the car. Jack forced Jim into the back seat with the other man and then he slid into the driver’s seat beside Trixie.
"You’ve been trying to cause me trouble, brat," Jack growled at her. "But now you and your boyfriend are going to be a big help."
Mrs. Foley looked shocked to see them.
"Jack, what are you doing?" she asked, frightened.
"Went back to get the loot and there was some kid there. We tied him up and were taking away the loot when the car broke down. Luckily, these brats came along with their car and we got them to help us move the loot. It's outside right now in the trunk."
"Have lost your mind!" Mrs. Foley said. "You can't kidnap people!"
"Shut up, Eleanor," he snapped. "I'm just going to tie you all up and keep you safe while Artie and I make our getaway. Nobody's getting hurt."
"Can we trust her, Hitchins?" Artie asked, gesturing towards Mrs. Foley.
"Hitchins?" Trixie repeated. "Jack Hitchins! You wrote one of those books on archaeology I saw in the living room."
"Bad luck," Jack sighed. "Now, I'll have to silence you all."
Trixie gasped as he waved the gun at them.
"Into the basement," he ordered.
As they started towards the basement, the front and back doors burst open.
"Police! Stop or we'll shoot!"
It was Sergeant Molinson and some of his officers. Jack and Artie dropped their guns on the floor and surrendered.
"How did you know?" Trixie asked the sergeant.
"Brian called us and said you and Jim might be in trouble. Really, you need to think before rushing in!"
"Mrs. Foley," Jim said. "Can you please tell us now what this is about?"
Mrs. Foley explained it all to them. She and her late husband had worked in the field with Jack Hitchins. But Hitchins was more interested in profit than history. He showed up in Sleepyside a week ago with treasures he had stolen from a site in Mexico. He forced Mrs. Foley to cooperate with him by threatening to impeach the name of the late Mr. Foley.
"He said he could prove Charles died while looting a dig," Mrs. Foley said. "Charles died from a fall on a site we were working. But he had his accident at night after we had shut down for the day. It was suspicious because, you see, artifacts had been disappearing. People did question Charles’ involvement in that, though I’m positive he was innocent. In fact, I believe he surprised Jack in the act of stealing. In any case, the questions went away and Charles’ reputation remained intact. But Jack could have stirred it up again."
So, Mrs. Foley told Jack about the cave where he might hide the hot property for awhile.
"It was a perfect place until you stumbled onto it," Mrs. Foley said to Trixie.
"Trust Miss Belden to stumble into trouble wherever it is," Sergeant Molinson grumbled.
"Trixie is a good detective," Jim said admiringly.
"Well, she certainly helped me," Mrs. Foley said.
Trixie blushed. "I didn't do anything really."
"I hope you can keep out of mysteries for awhile," said Molinson.
"I'll try, Sergeant," Trixie said.
He snorted. "We'll see."
Trixie smiled. Who was she kidding, anyhow? There'd always be another mystery waiting to be found and she couldn't wait for the next one.
The End
The Jivaro stuff is true, but I took liberties with my curse, of course.