Group Writing Project#4
Author’s Note: Thanks to Diann for really challenging me! My husband, who transported a lot of people to and from the Bexar County Jail when he worked as a paramedic in San Antonio, provided the information on Brian’s arrest. The Jailhouse Café is absolutely real, and serves the best chicken fried steak and cinnamon rolls anywhere, and they really are that huge! The sights are as real as I could make them, and yes, Tommy Lee Jones really does live in S.A. I hope everyone enjoys my take on things; Diann was a tough act to follow!
Day 1
Holiday Inn Riverwalk, Room 604
San Antonio, Texas"…..and that’s about it. The next thing we knew, Brian was cuffed, read his rights, and taken downtown." Mart glumly retold the events of the past few hours to Trixie and Jim.
Trixie sank down on the bed, holding her head in her hands. "Oh my gosh….if it’s not one thing, it’s something else. First Honey, now Brian. What are we going to do?" she wailed miserably.
"Well, the one thing we can’t do is fall apart," Dan determined. "We’ve got to use the brains in our heads that have gotten us out of so many tight places before and come up with a solution. I think we should tackle one problem at a time. Now we know what’s going on with Brian, but have you guys managed to find out anything about Honey?" he asked Jim.
Jim looked carefully at the others in the room: Mart and Di sitting on one bed, with Mart’s arm around a sniffling Di’s shoulders, trying to comfort her. Dan sitting bolt upright in the chair by the door, his body as tense as a guitar string. Trixie, her sandy curls tousled and face flushed, biting her upper lip and trying not to give in to the fear that threatened to take over her being. Except for his family, these were the people he loved most in the world. He knew that for their sakes, he had to be the strong one right now.
"Well, this is what we know. Honey was kidnapped by associates of one Victor Hernandez, an aircraft design magnate who runs Dee Howard, Inc. Their home base is at the San Antonio International Airport. Apparently, there have been rumors floating around lately that Dee Howard is not completely on the up-and-up. In fact, federal marshals have had the place staked out 24-7 even before they got the word from Clanton that Hernandez was responsible for Honey’s disappearance. However, they haven’t been able to find anything yet that would give any clue that she’s even here in town. The only thing they’ve had to go on was the fact that a small commuter plane landed here the day before yesterday from Alabama. That’s it. And Mr. Hernandez has conveniently been ‘out of the office’ each time anyone’s tried to contact him. Trixie and I are about at our wit’s end," he explained with a sigh.
A few moments of uncomfortable silence followed as each of the BWG’s absorbed the information. Conflicting emotions showed on all five faces as each struggled to find some kind of answer to their problems.
Finally, Di spoke up. "Well, I think the only thing we can do right at this very moment is figure out how we can help Brian. At least we know where he is," she mumbled softly.
"You’re right, Di. Mart, since you were there, I think you’re going to have to be the one to call Moms. Just charge it to the room. We have to tell her what’s happening," Trixie decided, ignoring the painful, unhappy look on Mart’s face. "Miss Trask hasn’t been able to locate the Wheelers yet. The last she knew, they were supposed to be in San Francisco. But when she checked this morning, they hadn’t checked into their hotel yet."
Mart, resigned to the inevitable, picked up the phone to call home. Di held tight to one hand while Trixie, in a rare display of affection for her almost-twin, squeezed his shoulder sympathetically.
Mart’s hand shook as he dialed the requisite digits, then waited. "Hi Moms….no, not everything is going as planned…it’s Brian," his voice faltered, then began to regain strength as he explained Brian’s predicament to his mother.
"I need some air. Walk with me, Jim?" asked Trixie softly.
Nodding his agreement, they left the room hand in hand, telling Dan they’d be back soon.
Later that afternoon
Bexar County Jail
San Antonio, Texas"Well, this is it. Not exactly the Hyatt Regency, is it?" Mart asked wryly as he, Trixie, and Jim stared up at the tall red brick building that stood intimidatingly between the railroad tracks and highway. Narrow vertical windows were spaced a few feet apart, and prisoners could be seen staring down at the dingy street below. Trixie noticed a small, crying woman, about 20 years old, looking up at one of the windows and waving. How sad, she thought. She must know someone in there. Trixie jumped when she realized that she, too, knew somebody in there. "Well, what do we do and where do we go?" she asked, trying to sound upbeat.
"Well, let’s try the jail first and find out. Then, if necessary, we can go to one of these bail bond places, I guess. Don’t you think so, Jim?" Mart inquired.
"I’m not sure. I’ve never done this before," replied Jim with a nervous laugh. "Let’s go in, find out where he is, and find out where to go from there."
Jim held the door open for the Beldens, then followed them in. After passing through the metal detector undeterred, they followed the signs that pointed to "Information". At the desk, they were met by a large, unsmiling woman whose wire-rimmed glasses threatened to drop over the peak of her sharp nose. Her nameplate read Dorothy Murray.
"May I help you?" she asked coldly.
Now where have I heard that name before? And she looks so familiar, thought Trixie, racking her brain. "Uh, yes ma’am, we’re here to see my brother. He was brought in earlier today."
"And his name?" ‘Dot’ grumbled nastily.
"Brian Andrew Belden, from Sleepyside, New York," answered Mart.
"Oh yes, the druggie…how ironic," the unpleasant woman commented. "Go down this hallway and make the first right. Go all the way down that hallway; there are some offices there. You need to see Officer Turner," she continued. She made a horrible attempt at a smile that was more of a grimace. It only served to expose the two missing incisor teeth and gave the impression of a screaming mummy.
Thanking the woman and following her directions as quickly as possible, Trixie, Mart, and Jim started down the hall and soon found an office labeled Sgt. Chuck Turner, Narcotics.
Trixie rapped lightly on the door with her knuckles. "Come in," a scratchy voice answered.
The door swung open to reveal a pudgy, red-faced man scarfing down a jelly doughnut and swigging back a liter bottle of Coke. He started suddenly when he saw the Bob-Whites. "Come in, come in…..don’t worry, you’re not disturbing me a bit. I’m Sgt. Turner, and you are….." he trailed off questioningly.
"Jim Frayne, sir, from New York State. This is Trixie Belden and her brother, Mart. Their brother was arrested earlier today on suspicion of illegally transporting drugs across state lines…Brian Belden?" Jim took charge. He could see that neither Trixie nor Mart was quite up to handling the situation.
"Oh yes….Belden. I remember now!" Sgt. Turner exclaimed, banging on the desk and sending an avalanche of papers crashing to the floor. "I’m glad that you’re here. There are some things we need to discuss. First of all, Mr. Belden has already been magistrated by the judge and bail has been set at $5,000. Secondly, he’s going to meet with the district attorney in half an hour and has had a public defender appointed. And third, can you think of any reason why your brother would be transporting drugs across state lines? I deal with criminals every day of my life, and your brother doesn’t fit the mold of smuggler."
Trixie, coming out of her temporary stupor, tried not to gross out as she observed the spittle dripping down the chubby man’s chin. "Well sir, Brian was doing a favor for a friend of his from college. You see, he’s pre-med at NYU, and he’s wanted to be a doctor for as long as he can remember, and he’ll be so great at it. There was one time when our dog, Reddy, he’s an Irish setter, got hit by a car, and…" Trixie was babbling now.
"And the point, sir, is that Brian has been an honest, upstanding citizen all of his life," Mart quickly interrupted when he saw that Sgt. Turner was losing patience. "His friend Lance knew we were taking a road trip this summer, and asked Brian if he could drop off a package to his uncle in California. Brian was simply doing a favor because that’s the kind of guy he is. If you’d like, sir, you can call Sgt. Wendell Molinson of the Sleepyside Police Department to verify what we’re saying. We’ve known him most of our lives, on both a personal and professional level," Mart concluded.
Jim added, "If you don’t mind my asking, sir, how did the troopers know to search that car? Did they have a tip or something?"
"Confidentially, yes, they did….I can’t tell you anything more," Turner replied regretfully. "Now, you can go see Mr. Belden before he meets with the district attorney. While you’re visiting, I’ll place a call to this Molinson person and see what we can uncover," he said.
Leaving the cramped office, Turner escorted them through a series of doors before they entered a small, windowless room. "We’ll bring him in shortly. Just wait here," he directed, as the door slammed shut behind his retreating form.
They didn’t have to wait long. Within the space of ten minutes, a very disheveled and pale Brian Belden was brought into the room. He smiled wanly at his siblings and best friend before taking a place at the table.
Trixie jumped up and threw her arms around her eldest brother. "Brian! Oh my gosh, I am so glad to see you. We have been so scared ever since we found out….how are you holding up?"
"Well, I’ve been better…..I’m hoping the charges will be dropped when we meet with the district attorney," Brian answered. "Thanks for showing up-I didn’t have the number to call the hotel, and there’s been a line for the phone most of the time anyway. Where are Dan and Di?"
"They volunteered to stay at the hotel in case we hear anything from Honey’s abductors," Jim replied. "We’re still not sure where she is and we have no idea why she was taken. I only know that we haven’t been able to find my parents yet," he continued, and briefly filled Brian in on what else they knew.
A knock on the door silenced the four. A smiling, dark-haired woman entered, carrying a brown leather briefcase in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other. "I’m Liz Kelsey, assistant district attorney. If I had to guess…..you must be Brian," she said warmly as she observed Brian’s orange jumpsuit, which was the required uniform of all Bexar County inmates.
"I’ve got good news for you, Brian. We’ve reviewed your case, made a few phone calls, and basically pulled our hair out….but as it turns out, you’ll be free to go in about an hour," she informed him.
"Wait a minute….don’t I need a lawyer present?" Brian asked, a little confused. "And why are the charges being dropped so suddenly? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that they are, but this is a total turnaround from two hours ago."
"Well, first of all, there were a lot of procedural errors. The troopers who pulled you over searched your car illegally. They didn’t inform you as to probable cause. Plus, they didn’t bother to find out who any of you were and what you were doing with Matthew Wheeler’s car. Also, they should have impounded the whole car to be searched later. Because they didn’t, there’s a chance that evidence has been mishandled or lost. Turns out they were acting on an anonymous tip. Anonymous tips don’t usually hold up in court. And since Matthew Wheeler is one of the richest men in the country, we want to make sure that all the P’s and Q’s are followed to the T," Liz Kelsey grinned and went on. "A phone call to Sgt. Wendell Molinson in Sleepyside as well as to the Wheeler estate confirmed your reputation as an outstanding young man and upright citizen. Now, why don’t you tell me why you had those drugs again?"
Brian explained for what seemed the thousandth time that day that he was delivering a package for a friend. "We’ve traveled all the way from New York without a problem. It seems like whoever tipped off the troopers was waiting until we got here. I wonder why," he mused.
Trixie and Jim exchanged glances. "You don’t suppose it has anything to do with Honey, do you?" Jim asked.
"That’s exactly what I’m thinking. Once the kidnappers took off with her, they may not have figured that we’d split up. They may have thought we’d just stay in the station wagon and wanted to really throw a monkey wrench into any plans we may have had to rescue Honey," Trixie answered excitedly.
"Wait a minute, back up, Trix," Mart interrupted. "How would they have known we had the stuff? Remember, Brian got the package from Lance back in New York."
"But remember too, that dark blue sedan was following us even then," Jim pointed out. "I think Trix is on to something."
"Not to interrupt, but would somebody mind telling me what is going on?" Liz Kelsey asked rather irritably. "I came in here to inform Brian of his release and you end up talking about a kidnapping. Who or what is Honey?"
The Bob-Whites glanced at each other, debating what or how much to reveal. "Jim, if we say anything, you need to be the one to say it," Trixie declared.
Deciding Liz would prove to be a friend, Jim filled in her in on Honey’s kidnapping. "But it hasn’t been released to the media yet, because we haven’t had any contact with the kidnappers and we don’t know why Honey was abducted," he finished.
"I’m sorry," Liz said sincerely. "If there is anything at all I can do, let me know," she added, as she checked her watch. "Oh no! I was supposed to be in a meeting with my supervisor right now. It was great to meet you and Brian, I’m really glad these charges were dropped. You definitely don’t fit the drug smuggler profile," she smiled. "Good luck with your search, and don’t hesitate to call if you need anything." Liz smiled again, then closed the door behind her.
Shortly after she left, a guard came in with Brian’s clothes. "You’re free to go, sir. If you’ll just return the jumpsuit after you’ve changed…." He chuckled. "Not that anyone wants to keep these, mind you…."
As Brian went to change, the remaining three sat silently. Mart spoke up suddenly. "I’m starving! What do you say we call Dan and Di and tell them to meet us at that place across the street, Jailhouse Café, and celebrate Brian’s freedom?"
"Great idea, Mart. I think we could all use a little celebration right now. I’ll make the call," Jim offered as he hurried off.
Brian came back, thankfully dressed in his street clothes, and together the Beldens went to find Jim. "Did you talk to them? Are they on their way?" Trixie asked.
"Yes, they are. Something’s happened, though. I could hear it in Dan’s voice," Jim answered, his mouth a tight line.
"Did he say what?" Brian asked, deeply concerned.
"No, he didn’t want to over the phone. I guess we’ll find out in a little bit," Jim answered. "Let’s go."
Jailhouse Café
San Antonio, Texas
7:00 p.m."OH MY GOSH!! Mart, I think you’ve found heaven," Brian rolled with laughter. The waitress had just delivered Mart’s chicken fried steak. The steak was so huge it had its own separate plate, and was covered with rich cream gravy. The golden brown fries were heaped on a platter next to it. The others couldn’t believe the size of their own meals.
Trixie was absorbed in her chicken con queso, which was chicken fried chicken covered with a luscious cheese sauce. "So, Dan, that’s all they said? There wasn’t anything else they wanted?"
"No. They just gave explicit instructions that you and Jim were to meet them at Dee Howard’s headquarters at the airport tomorrow night at eleven-thirty. You were to come alone, and if the cops showed up, it would be all over," Dan said dismally as he picked at his nachos.
"But he did say Honey would be there?" Jim asked anxiously.
"Yes, he promised," answered Di. "Oh, Jim, his voice was horrible. Deep and throaty, but very hoarse, like he’d been screaming at someone."
"Okay, so we have a plan as far as Honey goes. It sucks that we can’t do anything about it until tomorrow night, though," Mart stated. "Now, let’s try to figure out what exactly is going on. One: Lance gives Brian the drugs back in New York. The dark blue sedan begins tailing us then. Two: We run errands for the director of the FBI, first in Washington and then in Tennessee. Three: Honey is kidnapped, in a dark blue sedan and helicopter, by an aircraft guy who may or may not be legitimate. Four: Almost as soon as we enter the state of Texas, Brian is slapped with drug charges. These are all connected somehow. They have to be," he finished.
"Well, I guess we’ll have to be satisfied with shedding a little light on the subject tomorrow night. The only thing we can do tonight is finish our food and go to bed. I’m beat," Brian said firmly.
"Hey….let’s get some of their cinnamon rolls and save for breakfast tomorrow morning," Di suggested. "They’re as big as the chicken fried steak, and dripping with glaze. Yummy!"
The others, groaning as they held their already protruding stomachs, could only nod feebly in agreement.
The next day was a terribly nervous one for the Bob-Whites. Since they couldn’t do anything until later that night, they decided to play typical tourist to try and take their minds off Honey.
"Wow….the Alamo is a lot smaller than I pictured it," commented Dan. "In the movies, you always see it as some huge fortress out in the middle of nowhere."
"Yeah, I guess being right in the middle of modern-day downtown kind of takes away from the moment. But the story is so phenomenal. One hundred and eighty Texans against six thousand Mexicans….men who made the ultimate sacrifice so that Texas could be free….we take so many things for granted nowadays," Mart replied.
They continued to walk, exploring the Riverwalk and going by all the various restaurants and clubs.
"Hard Rock….Planet Hollywood….Fat Tuesday…..wonder what that place is, Howl at the Moon?" Mart queried.
"It’s a piano bar where everyone sings and gets crazy," Brian replied. "When Jim and I went to Orlando last year for spring break, we went to one there."
In front of Zuni Grill, Di clutched Trixie’s arm excitedly. "Oh my gosh….isn’t that Tommy Lee Jones? He is so cool! Ever since The Fugitive, he’s been one of my favorites," she cooed.
"Yeah, I’ve had a thing for him ever since he did Lonesome Dove years ago," Trixie said. "He is absolutely incredible. He lives here, you know."
The Bob-Whites continued their stroll, eventually ending up back at their hotel. Tired from the long day, and anticipating the night’s events, they retreated to their rooms hoping to get a little rest.
Trixie’s mind, however, was too wired to do anything but race. Quietly, so as not to awaken a soundly sleeping Di, she got up and knocked on the door that separated their room from the guys.
Jim opened the door quickly. "Mart and Brian are sacked out, and Dan went for a walk," he whispered. "I’m too hyped up to do anything but play solitaire. Come on in."
"Actually, Jim, why don’t we go down to the lobby? That way, we can talk without worrying about waking anyone up," Trixie suggested. "Let me leave a note for Di, and you leave one for them."
As they walked down the dimly lit corridor, Jim grabbed Trixie’s hand. "Trix, I know I don’t show my feelings often, but I have to confess something. I’m scared. If it weren’t for Honey, I would never have my family or my friends…of course, I owe a lot of that to you too," he grinned. "But Honey is my sister, and truthfully, Trixie, I’d be lost without her. She’s always the sensible one who calms me down when I lose my blasted redheaded temper."
Trixie squeezed his hand in understanding. "You know, Jim, I had friends at school, but until you and Honey showed up, I never knew what it was like to have a best friend. I’m so scared we’re going to lose her."
"You’re the only person I can talk to about this, Trix. I know that I have to be strong for everyone else. Somehow I knew you’d be feeling the same things that I am," he finished in a rush.
"I’m always here for you if you need me, Jim, you know that," Trixie reassured him. They had wandered in circles and now stood in front of Trixie’s door. She put her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "It will be fine, Jim. Deep down I believe that. Don’t give up." She pulled away and squeezed his hand one last time. "I’ll see you in a little while."
"See you in a bit, Trix. And…thanks," Jim replied with a smile.
San Antonio International Airport
The offices of Dee Howard
11:30 p.m.A short, stocky man dressed in black from head to toe met Trixie and Jim at the door of the dark, forbidding building. "Right this way," he commanded in his oily voice.
The nervous twosome followed the man closely through a maze of hallways. First upstairs, then down on the elevator. Then left, then right. Finally, the man stopped in front of an iron-gray door that looked as if it concealed a vault of some kind. Opening it slowly, he gestured for Trixie and Jim to enter ahead of him.
As they entered, the room was pitch black. All at once, the man in black switched on an overhead fluorescent light. Trixie and Jim rubbed their eyes vigorously, attempting to adjust to the sudden and unexpected brightness. After the spots had cleared, Trixie gasped at the sight before them.
Honey sat at a table, bound and gagged. She appeared to be trying to reassure them with her serious hazel eyes. I’m okay, I haven’t been hurt, they seemed to say.
"Honey, are you all right? What exactly is going on? Why did you kidnap her? What are you planning to do with her? With us? What……." Her voice trailed off as Jim shook his head at her almost imperceptibly. Let me handle this, Trix, please, he seemed to be pleading with her.
Turning to the man who appeared to be in charge, Jim said, "I assume you’re Mr. Hernandez. We’ve done as you’ve asked so far. We want my sister’s release guaranteed, so why don’t you just tell us the whole story and what you want us to do."
"Very well, Mr. Frayne. I hope you can handle what I’m about to tell you. First of all…have you ever heard the name Andre Chekhov?" Hernandez asked placidly, his dark brown eyes searching Jim’s anxious green ones.
"Why, yes.." Jim appeared startled at the question. "He’s a left-wing Communist who wants to restore Russia to military superpower status. Apparently he will go to any means to accomplish his goal, given that several top Russian government officials are missing who were last seen in his company. Of course, no one has been able to prove anything….what does he have to do with any of this?" Jim asked, clearly puzzled.
"Just this. Andre is my half-brother. He wants aircraft design blueprints, and since he is family, I am more than happy to oblige. However, the FBI looks unkindly on this. They are very suspicious of me, but have no proof that I am providing Andre with anything. If they were to get this proof, not only would I be put in prison, but all of Andre’s dreams and goals would coming to an end. Family is too important to me to let that happen," Hernandez explained.
"No offense, sir…that’s all fine and dandy. But where do the Wheelers come into play?" Trixie asked, with a skeptical look at Hernandez.
"Madeleine Wheeler played an instrumental role in bringing down my brother when he was a member of the KGB many years ago. But this is not about revenge in any way," Hernandez went on as if he hadn’t been interrupted. "I know that Madeleine is very close to the FBI director, Daniel Stuart. What I want is for her to use her…umm…powers of persuasion, shall we say, to convince Mr. Stuart to drop the FBI’s investigation into my company."
Trixie, who knew about Mrs. Wheeler’s involvement, sat quietly and absorbed the news. Jim, however, looked shocked and didn’t hesitate to make his feelings known. "Just what exactly makes you think my mother can do anything to persuade the FBI to do anything? And what do you mean, KGB? I don’t understand." He shook his head disbelievingly.
"Miss Belden, I understand you have been informed as to Madeleine’s prior involvement with the government. At a later date, I would appreciate it if you would fill in Mr. Frayne so he can lose the eye-popping fish look. It is most unbecoming," Hernandez sighed. "But now let me tell you what we want. It is the only way you can guarantee young Miss Wheeler’s release. I want to meet with Madeleine Wheeler and discuss these terms with her. You, Mr. Frayne, are to arrange the meeting and get back to me with the details. If there are any slip-ups, or any kind of appearance from the police or other law enforcement officials…well, let’s just say that something…drastic may happen to your sister."
"Well…this is not an easy thing for me to do. You’re basically asking me to go off and leave my sister with you until you can meet with my mother. I thought the whole point was for us to get Honey back," Jim stated emphatically.
"You may use my phone…right now, if you wish. And the main point was for you to find out what you had to do in order to win Miss Wheeler’s release," Hernandez continued as if Jim hadn’t spoken at all. "Would you like to call now, or perhaps wait until…."
"No, thanks. No time like the present," Jim decided. He had that stubborn set to his jaw that he often got when he had to do something he really didn’t want to do.
Trixie sat, silent with worry, until Jim had finished the phone calls. It took a few minutes, as he had to call Manor House to find out if Miss Trask had indeed located the Wheelers. After confirming that they were, in fact, in San Francisco, he dialed the number to the hotel. She heard Jim’s voice, shaky but trying to reassure his parents. He relayed what Hernandez said he wanted. Trixie eventually tuned out. She kept making eye contact with Honey, who again seemed to be trying to tell her not to worry. When Jim hung up, all eyes turned to him expectantly.
"It’s done," he said dully. "Mother will meet you at DFW Airport, three days from now, at seven-thirty in the morning. She’ll be in the Delta terminal food court. She said the only way she would agree to meet you would be in a public place. She wants to do whatever she can to ensure Honey’s safety." With that, he exhaled long and loudly and looked at Hernandez for approval and confirmation.
"Good. Then it is done," Hernandez said with satisfaction. "Say goodbye to your sister, and you will be escorted back to the front of the building. Good night." He turned on his heel and practically glided out of the room.
Trixie and Jim quickly hugged Honey, although she could not hug them back. Jim kissed the top of Honey’s forehead, and Trixie stroked her hair. "I’m so sorry, Honey…I’m so sorry," she whispered over and over again.
"That’s enough. Come with me." The man who had escorted them into the building now led them back outside and into the stuffy night air.
Trixie stood silent and sober as Jim hailed a taxi and held the door open for her. They climbed inside and Jim put his arm comfortingly around Trixie. "It’ll be all right, Trix. I promise it will." I wish I were as sure as I sounded, he thought. But Mother will fix it…I know she will.
The next morning
Holiday Inn Riverwalk"Well, we haven’t gotten a chance to see much of the city, but we need to get on the road, I guess," Brian commented with a sigh. "I just hope this nightmare will be over with quickly."
One by one, the Bob-Whites climbed into the station wagon, Trixie in the middle front between Jim and Brian; Di sandwiched in between Dan and Mart in the back.
"Wait, guys!" Dan exclaimed suddenly. "I wanted to buy a newspaper. Have to see how my Braves are holding up. They’re in the middle of a five-game series with the Astros. I’ll be right back," he promised.
The others watched as Dan hurried back into the hotel. It was only a few seconds later that he came back out, not hurrying this time, but rather trudging, with a grim look on his face. He flung open the door of the station wagon, sat down, and slammed the door viciously.
"Geez, Dan, what happened? The Braves trade Greg Maddux and Chipper Jones?" Mart teased.
"I wish it were that simple. Take a look at this," Dan growled.
Di gasped as she read the headline of the San Antonio Express-News aloud. "Daniel Stuart arrested on charges of conspiracy, drug smuggling, and espionage. FBI director refuses comment to the media."
The Bob-Whites were stunned into silence. Jim sighed, turned the key in the ignition, and turned the car in the direction of I-35 north and the Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex.