*mild profanity, adult themes

One Last Case

by

Mary

"Are you sure you want to leave?" Special Agent John Simms asked his now former intern, Trixie Frayne. "How will you stand not seeing us everyday?" His voice was slightly mocking, but Trixie could see a hint of sadness in his eyes. The other agents laughed heartily, tilting their heads back and swallowing the shots of tequila they had just toasted her with.

"It’ll be a constant struggle, but I’ll get by!" she said, trying to take on his bantering tone, but not quite making it. "And anyway, I did promise you that Honey and I would go with you to Meggie and Sarah’s school for Career Day." She paused, trying to will away the tears she felt lurking just beneath her eyelids.

"Now don’t go getting mushy on me, kiddo," Simms warned. It killed him to admit it, but he was going to miss his young intern terribly. She was so…unexpected.

After a 9 months with the FBI, Trixie was leaving for her own agency with her best friend and sister-in-law, Honey. In fact, they had already wrapped up their first case. She was excited and happy; the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency had been her dream for 10 years, but she was going to miss working with John. She looked at her mentor, a man in his late fifties with graying dark hair and intelligent brown eyes. Her respect for him was enormous. "Who me?" she asked. "I wouldn’t want to put a damper on my own goodbye party." She looked around the shabby bar where the agents in her office liked to gather, noting the dark walls, ancient red vinyl stools and decrepit tables. St. Patty’s Inn had been in the same location for 40 years and Trixie doubted if it had ever been redecorated in all that time. "The décor is depressing enough!" she pointed out.

John Simms staggered back, placing his hand over his chest. "You dare mock our official hangout? Our home away from home? Die Infidel, die!"

Trixie laughed, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Excuuuuse me! This is definitely my cue," she added, walking back to the table where her friends and family sat.

"So, this is how FBI agents spend their free time," Trixie’s brother Mart observed, tilting his head back and dropping a pretzel in his mouth. He leaned closer to his girlfriend Diana Lynch. "They probably like it because it looks like a crime scene in here!"

"It’s been a crime scene a few times, actually," Dan Mangan commented, finishing his beer.

"Really?" Diana asked, her violet eyes widening. "What kind of crime?"

Dan lowered his voice. "See the bartender? He just got out after serving 20 years for the big M. Someone stiffed him his tip and he popped him." Diana’s jaw dropped as she looked at the gray haired man behind the bar. "I thought he looked suspicious!" she said, alarmed.

Trixie smacked Dan lightly on the arm. "Don’t listen to him Di; he’s making the whole thing up," she said, taking her seat next to her husband Jim.

"Are you about ready?" Jim asked, sympathetically. He knew how hard leaving was for her.

Trixie sighed. "Yes. How can something I’ve always wanted make me feel so sad?" Jim put his arm around her.

Di spoke up. "I know just what you mean, Trix." She paused. "I have something to tell you guys. Something wonderful."

Everyone looked at the dark haired beauty with interest. "What is it, Di?" Trixie asked, her blue eyes brightening. She loved hearing good news, and she immediately sensed that this was going to be particularly good.

"I wanted to wait until the whole gang was together, but I can always call Brian and Honey…" Brian was Trixie’s oldest brother. He was a first year resident at Columbia Presbyterian
Medical Center and working unbelievably long hours. He was also working with the Children’s Defense Fund on an outreach program for uninsured families. Trixie knew he hated missing out on events like this, but she was incredibly proud of her oldest brother. Honey was busy wrapping up the last details of their case, insisting that Trixie not miss her own party.

"Diana, you’re killing me! What’s your news?" Mart groaned.

Diana took a deep breath, her face glowing. "I’m leaving my theatre group, which I’m going to miss so much, but I’m happy at the same time because…" she paused dramatically, her eyes twinkling at the looks of suspense she was getting. "Yours truly has won a supporting, but very good role, on Broadway!" She stopped, out of breath.

Complete silence greeted her announcement as everyone allowed the enormity of it to sink in. For a moment the only sound was the tinny sound of the jukebox and the loud guffaws of the FBI agents at the bar. Dan recovered first. "Oh my god, that’s incredible Di!" he said, reaching across the table and taking her hand, giving it a celebratory squeeze.

"Thank you!" she beamed. She glanced at Mart, whose jaw was now touching the table. "What, the man of a thousand words has nothing to say?" she said, her face lit up with a smile.

"Holy, holy…" he finally sputtered. Diana laughed and put her arms around his neck. "I can’t believe it—I’ve actually made Mart speechless!" It was no easy feat.

"I am so happy for you, Di! You’re not going to forget us little people after you’re a big time actress, are you?" Trixie said, her blue eyes sparkling at her friend.

"Oh yes, that’s right!" Diana joked back.

"We can always say, ‘we knew her when,’" Jim sighed, his green eyes dramatic. He smiled at Diana. "Then if we want to catch a glimpse of you, we’ll have to watch the Tony Awards like everybody else!" He reached across the table and gave her a high five.

Mart gave up on recovering his voice and just kissed Diana for a long time instead, ignoring the catcalls of his friends.

"Gleeps Mart, let the girl up for some air," Trixie said, grinning at the brother who looked so much like her they were often mistaken for twins. "Tell us more. Who will you be this time?"

Diana smiled. "I’ll bet you and I are the only two people on the planet who’ve seen that movie! Anyway, the play is called The Voice of the Turtle and I’m playing Sally, the younger sister." Diana paused and gave Mart a sly look before continuing. "Sally’s been burned by men and so she swears off romance, determined instead to concentrate on her career."

Everyone laughed at the pained look on Mart’s face. "Life doesn’t always imitate art, you know," he muttered.

Trixie stood up. "Congratulations Di," she said warmly, coming around the table and giving her friend a hug. "I always knew you could do it."

"Hey Trix! You can’t leave until you do the Statue of Liberty!" One of the young agents called from the bar. Trixie looked in his direction.

"Statue of Liberty?" Jim said puzzled.

Trixie sighed. "It’s a tradition, whenever anyone leaves the office."

Dan grinned. "I did that once," he admitted.

Trixie brightened. "Wanna do it again?"

"Ah what the hell," Dan replied, getting up from the table. "No guts, no glory!"

"What is it?" Jim asked, by now thoroughly confused.

Trixie smiled. "You might not want to see this!" she teased as the three of them walked up to the bar. The agents formed a circle around them and started chanting, "Liberty! Liberty! Liberty!"

The bartender poured two large shots of Southern Comfort and two glasses of water, which he set in front of the pair, flicking a cigarette lighter. "Ready?" he asked Trixie and Dan.

Trixie took a deep breath, starting to smile. It was so ridiculous but it really was funny. She looked at Dan.

"Ready," he acknowledged.

They dunked their index fingers into the liquor and held them out to the bartender who lit them on fire. "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore!" Dan and Trixie shouted, raising their flaming fingers into the air, grabbing the shotglasses and drinking down the liquor. They plunged their burning digits into the glasses of water while everyone cheered.

Jim was slightly stunned—sometimes he just could not believe his wife. "Doesn’t that…hurt?" he managed finally. Trixie just grinned at him. "Try it and see!" she said saucily. Jim looked into her glowing face, her cheeks slightly flushed, her soft blonde curls falling down around her shoulders, and felt like a lucky man.

John Simms threw a paternal arm around the younger man’s shoulders. "Nah, not if you do it right," he said. He threw his other arm around Trixie’s waist. "Kiddo, it’s been real…interesting working with you. I’m going to miss you," he finally admitted. He closed his eyes and kissed the top of her head. "Take good care of our girl, huh?" he said to Jim, who nodded.

Trixie smiled at him, her eyes suddenly shiny. She solemnly held out her finger, which he ceremoniously dried with a bar napkin. "I will never forget what you’ve taught me," she said, her throat starting to tighten.

"Good. It’s very important to get the right amount of liquor on your finger, otherwise you’ll get burned," John said lightly. He patted Trixie’s head. "See you around, kiddo," he said, exiting the bar. Trixie watched him go, leaning back against Jim’s solid chest as he slid his arms around her, resting his head on top of her curls. "What a jerk," she muttered playfully.

Mart, Diana and Dan walked up to them, Dan sucking on his finger. "Yikes, I must have lost my touch!" he groused

"I’m going to take Di home," Mart said, looking closely at his sibling.

"I’m okay, really," Trixie said, answering his unspoken question. "He was just really, really…cool," she finished, not able to sum up what working with the Special Agent meant to her.

Di looked at her sympathetically. "I’ll never forget my first acting coach. When he passed away, I thought I was going to die."

Trixie nodded, remembering how upset Diana had been. "I guess nothing ever stays the same, does it? And it’s weird, because we’d hate it if nothing different ever happened, and yet, it’s always so hard." She shook her head. "Whew, that was deep!" she laughed, wanting to break up the somber mood.

"Maybe you need another Statue of Liberty," Dan slyly suggested.

Jim groaned; he wasn’t up to seeing his wife’s flesh on fire for the second time in one day! "Bite your tongue, man!" he quipped, tightening his arms around Trixie.

"Hmmm, I think Jim having one is a better idea," Trixie dared, turning around, her blue eyes laughing up into his green ones.

"Liberty! Liberty! Liberty!" Mart, Diana and Dan chanted playfully.

"You are in serious trouble," Jim growled, looking down at Trixie. He lifted his hands and let them drop. "But, far be it for me to question such an exalted FBI tradition!" And so it was that Trixie’s going away party ended up on a far lighter note.

 

 

Chapter 2

"…and Jim actually did it, huh?" Honey laughed, having a hard time picturing her practical brother doing anything so completely ridiculous. She pushed her long golden hair behind her ears. "Maybe there’s hope for that boy after all!"

Trixie grinned at her sister-in-law. "I think marriage to me has completely corrupted him."

"Mmm, you may be right. I wish I could have been there. But good news, our client paid us five grand!" Honey smiled, waving a cashier’s check. "Our first case already a done deal."

Trixie nodded. "I feel sorry for her though. What the heck’s the deal with these men?" Their client had come to them because she was worried that her husband was cheating on her. They discovered that not only was he cheating on her, he was cheating on his mistress as well. "What a complete and utter creepoid," Trixie said, shaking her head in disgust. "His wife is so sweet. And pretty. And other than her taste in men, intelligent. What more does he want?"

"I’m just glad you discovered that gun he was carrying around in his glove compartment. You know, he stood to inherit a lot of money. Makes you wonder if he would have had the nerve to do something."

"He cried like a baby when the police hauled him off, so I somehow doubt it. But I’m still glad she finally got that restraining order we advised her to get."

Honey blew a stream of air up into her bangs. "I’ll tell you Trix, it truly makes me appreciate who I’m married to!" She thought about Brian, so sweet and serious, so completely devoted to her. "Even if I never get to see him anymore," she added wryly. Brian hated not seeing her so much, it was impossible to get angry about it.

Trixie smiled sympathetically. "He must hate all the time he has to spend away from you, if I know my brother. Mr. Devotion!" She batted her eyes at her sister-in-law.

"Speak for yourself, sister-in-law dear. Jim would jump off the Empire State Building if you asked him to!"

Trixie blushed. "Oh, right," she muttered. The she smirked. "You wouldn’t say that if you witnessed some of the horrible fights we’ve had!"

"Seriously Trixie, that guy is in loooooove." Honey laughed to see her best friend so clearly pleased, yet embarrassed at the same time. "He’s got it baaaaaad!"

Trixie lightly shoved her business partner. "What is this, embarrass Trixie day? And anyway, I’ve got it ‘baaaaad’ too!" she admitted.

"I know. Ever since you met him."

Trixie nodded thoughtfully. "You’re right as usual. I’ll never forget how I felt when I saw him walking up the path at the Smith’s farm, after we’d been looking and looking for him, thinking that we might never see him again."

"I know, I felt the same way. Well, not quite the same. I meant in a non-carnal way."

"Gleeps Honey! I was only 13, it was hardly in a carnal way!" Trixie exploded. Then she grinned, seeing that her best friend was just teasing as usual.

"Ha, had you going!" Honey laughed.

Trixie was about to comment when the phone rang. She picked it up with a flourish. "Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency," she said musically, causing Honey to smother a giggle.

"Trix? It’s Di."

"Hey Di! How did first day of rehearsals go?" Trixie waited for a response, but only heard breathing. "Di?" she said questioning. Honey picked up the other phone. "Diana, what’s the matter?" she asked gently.

"Oh you guys it was so horrible! Everything is wrong. Everybody hates me!" Diana started crying.

"Slow down and tell us what happened." Trixie said. "What do you mean ‘everybody hates you’?"

Di took a deep breath. "I’m sorry if I sound melodramatic. But oh Trix, it’s true! I’m Georgina’s understudy, so everybody figures I must have been the one to do it!"

"Do what?"

"Everything!" Diana wailed. "Her script with all of her notes in it was found torn to bits. Someone poured ink all over one of her costumes. All these bizarre jokes."

Trixie frowned. "It sounds like something a kid would do."

"Yes I know, but it’s really screwing everything up for her. She’s furious, the director’s furious and everyone thinks it’s me."

"How do you know they think that?" Honey asked.

Di groaned. "It’s obvious. Nobody will give me the time of day. I walk into the room and the conversation stops. I don’t know what I’m going to do. This is my big break. I’m supposed to be happy and instead I’m miserable." She took a big breath. "I think I need the services of the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency."

"Oh Di! Of course we’ll do whatever we can!" Honey and Trixie cried.

"Come to next Tuesday’s rehearsal with me. I’ll tell the director you guys are helping with my makeup and costumes."

Trixie had to laugh. She couldn’t even thread a needle. She’d let Honey handle that department. "Di, don’t worry about a thing. We are on the job."

"Thanks guys. You’re the best."

Trixie and Honey hung up the phones, looking at each other. "Poor Diana! This has been her dream for so long. It’s just not fair." Honey said.

"I know. But you know about ‘fair’. It’s where pigs go to win ribbons!" Trixie smiled, thinking about Agent Simms and his favorite expression. There isn’t any room for the notion of fair when you are dealing with criminal activity. Dwelling on it just makes you crazy.

"Brian is due home from the hospital in about an hour. I think I’m going to head on home and show him a little of that appreciation we were talking about before," Honey said, her hazel eyes suddenly twinkling.

"You know partner, I think you’re on to something…"

*     *     *

Jim was bringing in some wood when he heard the sound of Trixie’s car drive up, their dog Patch scampering around his heels, severely limiting his progress. "Hey gorgeous, I just got home myself," he greeted her, his red hair shining in the remaining day’s sun just beginning to set, the crisp February air holding on to the last light.

Trixie got out of the car, leaving her briefcase on the front seat, following her husband into the house where he dumped the wood in the box by the fireplace. She gently closed the door and stood still. "What?" Jim asked, brushing off his shirt as Trixie stared at him, wondering at the gleam in her eyes. Trixie felt her heart swell; she drank in the lanky sight of him, his strong athletic body, his clean jaw, his beautiful green eyes…Trixie edged closer and put her hands on his chest, pushing him back to the couch, her breath suddenly quickening. She lowered herself into his lap, sliding her hands into the nape of his neck, kissing him in a way that made his knees go weak.

"Tell me what I did, so I can be sure and do it again!" he said, a little breathless.

"You married me," she sighed happily. Trixie fell back onto the cushions, pulling him on top of her, kissing him again and again, her hands stealing under his shirt, his warm skin enflaming her senses. She sighed his name like a prayer as they loved each other completely, the sun long since set by the time they were done.

"Now that’s what I call a homecoming!" Jim whispered into the side of her neck, his heart slowly returning to its normal rhythm.

Trixie was limp with satisfaction. "Just wanted to show my appreciation," she purred, sliding her arms around his neck as he sat up, pulling her back onto his lap. She felt as if her very bones had melted away. Suddenly she started to laugh helplessly, pointing. Jim looked and started to laugh himself at the sight of Patch sitting two feet from the couch, a look of doggy puzzlement on his brown face. "Do you think we’ve ruined him for life?" she finally managed, tears of merriment running down her face.

Jim was laughing too hard to answer. Finally he stuttered, "I wonder if this can be considered animal cruelty?"

Trixie kissed his jaw. "Well it’s animal at any rate!" She looked at him lovingly. "This isn’t going to sound very romantic, but I’m starving. And I must say, for some darn reason, I don’t have the energy to cook!"

"Me either. Gee, it’s a mystery."

"How about calling Jakes for a pizza? I know they don’t usually deliver out this far, but he did say he owed me one."

"As you wish, Princess Buttercup."

Later, when they were enjoying their pizza, Trixie filled Jim in on the whole Diana situation. "I just hope we can get to the bottom of it or Diana’s career is ruined before it even begins," she said, worried.

"If I know you and Honey, you will," Jim said, reassuringly. "Heck, you guys found me in under a week that time, remember?"

"It’s so weird that you should bring that up. Honey and I were just talking about that today."

Jim leaned forward and kissed her on the tip of her nose. "Have I ever told you how glad I am you found me?"

Trixie grinned. "Only about a million times."

"Cute. Real cute." Suddenly Jim stood up and lifted Trixie into his arms. "You know, I think my energy level has been completely restored. Patch, I’d stay downstairs if I were you!" He took the stairs two at a time, lustily braying, "The Dread Pirate Roberts takes no prisoners!"

Patch lay in front of the fireplace, lowering his nose onto his paws with a sigh. He wondered if he’d ever understand humans.

 

Chapter 3

"That was so cool!" Meggie Hansen said to Trixie as they walked out into the school parking lot.

Sarah Monroe, Meggie’s best friend echoed the sentiment. "I especially liked the part about having goals."

"Well I liked the part about the importance of finding a good mentor!" John Simms added, grinning at Trixie.

"You would!" Trixie replied. She looked closely at her former boss, wondering if she should comment on how tired he looked. Remembering his gruff temper, she decided against it. He’s probably working hard as usual.

"I especially liked all that stuff about not forgetting that you’re dealing with people," Meggie said shyly. "I…well, I think that’s the most important thing of all." She tugged her long brown braid, her eyes lowered.

Honey smiled at the young girl. "I think that’s the most important thing too."

"Any new mysteries, girls?" Trixie asked, her blue eyes twinkling. Ever since the two teenagers discovered Trixie tied up in the old, abandoned hunting cabin in the woods, near where they lived, she had kept in touch with them.

Sarah smiled proudly. "As a matter of fact, Meggie and I finally figured out who broke into the principal’s office last week.

"Hey, that’s pretty good! What happened?" Trixie asked, flashing a secret grin at Honey. She listened intently as Meggie poured out the entire tale.

"…so we spread some fake gossip about Principal Gonzales being stubborn and keeping this big donation in his office, and we made sure our suspect just couldn’t help overhearing it, and badda bing baddo boom!" Meggie finished, slightly breathless.

"Yeah well, baddo boom, you’re still grounded for hiding out in his closet and worrying your parents half to death when you didn’t come home," Sarah added.

Trixie groaned, remembering a certain incident with a red trailer she’d just soon forget. "I don’t suppose telling you to never do anything like that again would help, would it?" Meggie had the grace to look sheepish.

A light rain started falling on the group, the sky suddenly darkening as it was wont to do that time of the year. "There goes my hair!" Sarah griped as the group picked up their pace, heading for John’s Toyota Camry.

"You don’t need to walk us to the car. Why don’t you head back to class?" Trixie suggested, then laughed when she caught the expression on Meggie’s face.

"It’s the least we can do. I know we’re going to get an "A’ on our project now. Nobody else had guest speakers," Meggie said, grinning triumphantly, shedding her embarrassment. "Thank you so much."

Trixie smiled at the girls. "Well, I’m sure nobody else helped save anybody’s life either." They reached John’s car and Trixie hugged both girls. "Try and stay out of trouble!" she said, grinning.

The three of them waved as Meggie and Sarah ran back to class, weaving in and out of the parked cars in their path. "Wish I had their energy," John muttered, searching his pocket for his keys.

"Are you all right?" Trixie asked, throwing caution to the wind. To her surprise, John didn’t tell her to M.Y.O.B.

"I’ve got a problem," he admitted. "It has to do with one of the first cases I ever worked on…" Simms broke off, his face draining of color. To Trixie and Honey’s complete horror, he slumped down onto the ground, the car keys falling from his hand.

"Johnny!" Trixie cried, dropping to her knees. Honey pulled out her cell phone and dialed 911.

Trixie tried desperately to remember everything she knew about first aid. She loosened his tie and stripped off her jacket, laying it gently over the agent, whose breath was labored.

"An ambulance is on the way," Honey said, kneeling down and laying her own jacket over his legs.

"Trixie," John rasped, struggling for breath.

"Don’t try to talk," Trixie said, her voice choked.

"Jack. Find…Jack. Danger…"

"Shhhhh," Trixie said, hearing the welcome wail of the ambulance. "Save your breath."

The ambulance screeched to a stop, the back doors flying open as two women jumped out, hauling a stretcher with them. Trixie and Honey moved out of the way helplessly, watching as the agent was quickly and efficiently loaded into the back of the emergency vehicle.

"Beth Abraham Hospital is the closest, on Old Tarrytown Road. Know where that is?" One of the paramedics asked rapidly. She didn’t wait for an answer and slammed the door shut, the ambulance taking off with a wail.

Trixie bent down and picked up John’s keys, her hands shaking. "I can’t believe this is happening," she said, starting to cry. Honey gently took the keys away and hugged her best friend.

"I’ll drive. Come on!" she added when Trixie didn’t move. The rain came down harder, but Trixie hardly noticed, her mind was in such turmoil. Who’s Jack? What kind of danger could he be in? What’s going to happen to Johnny? She started to shiver, realizing her jacket was still draped over John. Honey unlocked the door and got into the car, leaning across and unlocking the passenger door. Trixie sank onto the seat next to Honey, her teeth chattering as much from shock as from the cold. She bit hard on her lip and impatiently rubbed away the wetness on her face. Crying was useless.

Honey blasted the heater, stealing a sideways glance of concern at the silent Trixie as she drove along. "Should we call someone?" she asked.

"I’m going to call the Office and let everyone know what happened," Trixie replied, digging out her cell phone.

"What about his family?"

"His wife died a long time ago. I don’t think he has any family," Trixie replied, dialing the familiar number. She spoke rapidly to whoever answered, filling them in. "I’m heading to the hospital now. Yes. Yeah. Goodbye." She clicked her phone closed and dropped it into her purse as Honey pulled into the visitor’s section of the hospital. "You can just drop me off," Trixie said.

"No way. I’m not leaving you here all by yourself," Honey answered firmly, finding a parking space and shutting off the engine.

The two women walked into the emergency entrance and found the front desk. "Excuse me, we’re inquiring about a John Simms who was just brought in by ambulance?" Trixie said to the harried young woman behind the counter.

"Wait in those chairs and someone will let you know as soon as they can," she said, pointing. "And you are…"

"His daughter, Trixie."

"Why did you say that?" Honey asked as they went and sat down.

Trixie shrugged. "I figured they’d be more willing to give us information that way," she replied.

"You’re probably right."

Trixie said no more, rubbing her arms and staring bleakly at the wall opposite of her. She read the poster asking people to donate blood over and over again, trying to quiet the roaring panic in her ears that kept saying, "What if he dies? What if he dies?"

 

Chapter 4

After what seemed like hours and hours, a young doctor approached them. "Are you Trixie?" he asked softly. At her nod, he continued, "I’m Dr. Samuelson. Your father has been stabilized, but I’m afraid it’s fairly serious. He has two very severe blockages in his arteries. It’s a miracle he survived the attack. You’ll need to sign a surgery consent form. I’m sorry." His voice was low and even, reminding her a little of Brian. She wished he were here now.

Honey took her hand, squeezing it sympathetically. "I’m sorry too, Doc," Trixie said, her face pale and strained. "I…I’m not his daughter. I lied. I needed to know how he was and I didn’t know if you’d tell me otherwise."

"Is there any family you can call?" Doctor Samuelson asked. He didn’t seem angry.

Trixie shook her head. "Does that mean he can’t have the surgery?"

"Of course not. It’s a life-threatening condition and will be performed immediately. I take it you’re a friend of his?" At Trixie’s nod he continued, "The operation will take hours, and he’ll be unconscious for a long time after that. You can’t do anything here. I’d suggest you go home." He gave the two women an encouraging smile and left.

"I’ll drive you back to the office so you can get your car," Honey said, standing and extending her hand. Trixie allowed her to help her up, her legs a little wobbly. "Yikes, it’s almost 5:00 already."

They walked out into the rain and back to John’s car. Trixie breathed deeply in and out, wanting nothing more than to get the smell of the hospital out of her nose and throat. Why is it all hospitals smell the same?

"You don’t have to come with me tomorrow, Trix. I can fill you in."

Trixie looked at her best friend blankly.

"Diana?" Honey gently prompted.

"Oh, right! No, no, that’s okay. I want to come. If I don’t keep busy I’ll go nuts," Trixie replied. "I’m fine. Honestly. Just a bit shook up, that’s all."

"All right. If you’re sure…"

"I’m sure."

The two women drove to their office in silence. "I hope John’s car will be okay here," Honey commented, pulling into a spot and setting the brake.

"I’ll bring Jim back here and have him drive it to our house," Trixie said, opening the door.

"I’ll see you in the morning. Are you sure you’re okay to drive?" She walked around the car and up to Trixie.

"Yes Mother Hen!" Trixie smiled, giving her a quick hug. "See you tomorrow."

Honey watched her go, wishing she wouldn’t try to always be so in control. You’d think crying was a crime, she thought in exasperation. She pulled out her cellphone and hit the speed dial for Jim and Trixie. I’d better be the meddling sister-in-law and fill Jim in.

*     *     *

Once home, Trixie got out of the car and wearily shut the door, bending down to scratch the top of Patch’s head when he ran up to her, his tongue lolling merrily out of his panting mouth. "Guess you’re over the shock, huh boy?" she said, the memory of the other evening making her smile in spite of herself. Patch sat on his haunches and grinned up at his mistress, his tail thumping the wet ground. Trixie leaned against the car door, hating the fear she felt knotting in her stomach, taking deep breaths to calm herself.

"Are you okay?"

Trixie jumped, banging her wrist painfully on the handle of the door. "Ouch! You scared me," she said, rubbing her wrist, feeling ridiculous. "Guess I was in la-la land."

Jim looked closely at her. "Honey called me and told me what happened." He took hold of her cold hands and squeezed gently.

Trixie closed her eyes. "It was so awful. He just collapsed right onto the parking lot." She felt the unwelcome beginning of tears and ruthlessly forced them back, dropping Jim’s hands. "I’m going in and having a hot shower. I’m freezing," she said abruptly. She walked into the house, leaving Jim and Patch staring after her.

"Oh boy," Jim said out loud. Patch barked once as if in agreement. Jim walked slowly into the house. He knew from long experience that forcing her to talk about it would only make her mad and defensive.

He unobtrusively watched her out of the corner of his eye all evening as she surfed the ‘net, looking for any information she could find on Georgina Cole, the lead in Diana’s play, her face pale and strained. He grew more and more exasperated as he watched her drive herself relentlessly, writing down names of people she had worked with before. "Why don’t you take a break? You must be tired after everything that’s happened today," he said finally. The hell with it!

"I’m almost done. This is important." Trixie muttered, chewing on the pencil she was holding.

Jim sighed. "You know, it’s perfectly all right for you to be upset, worried, scared…"

Trixie held up her hand. "Jim, please. I have to finish this. And I’m fine. Really."

"I’m going to bed. I’ll leave you to your pretending that you’re 100 percent in control," Jim snapped, immediately regretting his words, cursing his redheaded temper that still got him into trouble from time to time.

Trixie barely managed to bite back the retort that blazed to her lip as he left the room. She read the same sentence three times before admitting to herself that the words might as well been written in Swahili. "Concentrate," she said aloud. "Diana is counting on you." Thinking about her dark haired friend helped swing her back into focus and she spent the next hour reading about the talented and successful Georgina Cole, until she could no longer focus on the screen.

Trixie logged off the computer and rubbed her eyes, suddenly so tired she could hardly move. She trudged up the stairs and entered the large master bedroom quietly, hearing Jim’s slow even breaths. She didn’t blame him for losing his temper. I don’t know why he bothers trying to help the hopeless! she thought, looking down at him. She regretted pushing him away earlier, but at the time she was afraid she’d spend the entire night bawling like a baby, completely losing herself in the process. She brushed her teeth as quietly as possible, wondering if there was a way to be completely out of control and in control at the same time, shaking her head at her own foolishness. As Mart would say, it’s a complete conundrum! she thought, pulling her nightgown over her head, carefully sliding into her side of the bed, her brain jammed with a thousand different thoughts. Thankfully, her physical exhaustion won out and she fell into a deep sleep almost immediately.

 

I give you everything, everything! I love you so much and you, you…" Hands were hurting her. Hands were gripping around her neck, choking her. Can’t breathe, can’t breathe…

Loud gasps filled the room as Trixie frantically struggled to get air into her lungs, her heart pounding in her chest, her body writhing desperately.

Jim woke with a start, immediately realizing that Trixie was having the dream again, the same dream she had every night for a week after her experience 6 months earlier with the deranged Mrs. Waters, the dream that still plagued her whenever she was especially stressed or tired.

"Trixie wake up, it’s okay," he said, folding her into his arms. She tensed for just a moment then opened to him. He held her tightly, rubbing the back of her neck. "Breathe, breathe," he said soothingly. It’s a good thing that woman is already dead or I’d kill her myself! The uncharacteristic thought coursed through him, surprising him with its violence. Those two days Trixie was missing were the longest, most fear-filled days he ever spent. The way he felt when they tracked her to an old hunting cabin, only to come over the rise and see it burning to the ground, was a feeling he would take with him to the grave.

Trixie slowly opened her eyes, the old terror bubbling in her chest, the voice of Mrs. Waters gradually receding into nothingness. "Oh nnnot aggain," Trixie moaned, the hitching sound of her voice barely a murmur. She pressed closer, needing the comforting feel of Jim’s body heat.

"Shhh, just relax. Breathe in and out, slowly," Jim whispered. He listened to Trixie trying to catch her breath and felt like his own lungs were about to burst from the strain.

"I really, really, really hate that dream," she whispered, sliding her hands around Jim’s waist, sinking into him. She took several deep breaths while he continued to hold her. "And I really, really hate when I act like I did before," she added. "I don’t know why I do that." She closed her eyes and tried to quit trembling.

"I don’t know why you do either."

"I guess I just hate feeling so…weak."

Jim kissed her eyelids and the tip of her nose. "You’re the strongest person I know, and crying over a good friend isn’t going to make me think any differently."

"I know," Trixie said shakily, opening her eyes and looking at him. "It’s just…I’m afraid once I let go I won’t be able to get back. I’ll just be…lost."

Jim cupped her face and smiled at her. "I will always come for you," he quoted, glad to see Trixie smiling in the dark at his little joke. "The Princess Bride" was one of their favorite movies. He felt her begin to relax and was relieved.

"How can you be sure?," she quoted back, playing along, feeling the tension finally leave her body and her breathing return to normal.

"This is true love. You think this happens everyday?" he continued, kissing her deeply.

"I will never doubt again," she said, starting to giggle. "You know, Brian and Honey think we’re nuts for memorizing an entire movie." She yawned, her body feeling incredibly heavy. She dropped her head onto Jim’s shoulder, her eyes closing, the last remnants of the dream finally gone. "Completely nuts," she mumbled sleepily.

"Ah, what do they know," Jim said, stroking the back of her head. Heavy breathing was his only reply, as Trixie succumbed to sleep. "There will never be a need," he whispered, finishing the line.

 

Chapter 5

"Sammy. Sammy!" Di said the security guard whose eyes never left the TV screen in his booth. Trixie, Honey and Diana were in the lobby of the newly renovated Selwyn Theatre on West 42^nd Street. "They’re with me." The security guard merely grunted and waved them in.

Honey giggled. "Well, so far so good!"

Di smiled. "I doubt if anything could tear Sammy away from hockey. Come on, the dressing rooms are this way."

Honey and Trixie drank in the sights and sounds of the backstage activity as they followed their friend to her dressing room. Suddenly Diana froze, causing Trixie to slightly collide with her. She opened her mouth to ask what the matter was when she too heard the angry voice coming from behind the red door.

"…and it was completely trashed when I came in this morning. I can’t take much more of this. Something has got to be done with her!"

"It’s Georgina. The phantom of the opera has apparently struck again," Diana whispered.

"You don’t have any proof that Diana had anything to do with it. She’s good. I don’t want to fire her," a sharp voice said. The door opened abruptly and a slender woman in her 40’s strode out, her brown hair cut in a short bob. She stopped short when she saw Diana.

"Obviously you heard that," she said shortly.

"Gwen, I didn’t…"

The Director held up her hand. "Diana, I don’t mean to be abrupt, but I just do not have time for this backstage bickering. I have a play to put on—I can’t waste energy on this nonsense. I like you, but if this continues I may have to let you go. I’m sorry, but Georgina Cole is a major draw and I have the investors to think about."

"But I just heard you say you don’t want to fire me," Diana said, trying to keep her voice calm.

The older woman’s sharp face softened a little. "And I don’t. I think you have a real future." She lifted her hands and let them drop. She noticed Trixie and Honey for the first time. "Are they with you?" she asked, frowning.

Trixie and Honey looked at each other. Trixie had the feeling that this woman was not going to buy their makeup and costume story; after all, who needs makeup when you’re only rehearsing? She opened her purse, glad that she kept her FBI Badge.

"Trixie Frayne, FBI. We’re here to investigate your little problem on the request of your investors," Trixie said crisply. Honey and Diana’s jaws dropped at the outright lie. Luckily, the harried Director didn’t notice.

"Fine, fine. Talk to whoever you want. I’ll be in props if anyone’s looking for me," she said, walking swiftly away.

"And I thought I was the actress!" Diana grinned, grabbing Trixie’s arm. "Oh that was too cool!"

Trixie was glad to see her friend’s mood lift. "Sometimes ya gotta improvise!" she said, feeling some of her tiredness evaporate.

"Who should we talk to first?" Honey asked.

"I think we should start with her Royal Highness first, don’t you?" She turned to Diana. "Go ahead and do what you normally do. We’ll fill you in later."

Diana nodded. "I’m due on stage in 10 minutes. We’ll hook up at lunch time."

"Break a leg," Honey said, smiling her encouragement as Di walked to her dressing room.

They knocked on Georgina’s door. "Who is it?" they heard.

"FBI," Trixie responded. "That’ll get her," she whispered out of the side of her mouth.

The door opened and Georgina Cole stood staring at the two women, her perfectly oval face wearing a slight frown. "You don’t look like FBI to me," she said. "If this is another joke, I am not amused."

Trixie flashed her badge and repeated her name. "I understand you’ve been having some…difficulties."

Georgina waved them in. "Oh, it’s been a nightmare. Just a nightmare." Her pale hands waved through the air for emphasis. "I’m trying to immerse myself into my role. My artistic integrity is being severely compromised." Trixie restrained the urge to roll her eyes and say, "just the facts, ma’am."

"What exactly has occurred, Ms. Cole," Honey smoothly inquired, taking out a notebook and looking at the actress expectantly.

Georgina paced the dressing room as she dramatically listed the strange events of the past week. "And I can tell you who’s responsible. It’s so obvious."

"Is it?" Trixie asked shortly.

The actress nodded. "It’s my understudy, of course. Diana Lynch. She doesn’t want me to be able to perform so she can take over. She obviously doesn’t believe in paying her dues."

Trixie made sure to mentally count to five before continuing. "Ms. Cole, I don’t mean to be rude, but isn’t it possible that perhaps someone is just playing a mean trick on you?"

"But for what end?"

Trixie glanced at Honey. I need your tact!

"Er, what my partner is trying to say, Ms. Cole, is have you ever had any, um, falling out with anyone in the company, another actress perhaps or a member of the backstage crew?" Honey said sweetly.

Georgina wasn’t buying it. "Look," she said coldly. "I don’t know what you’re getting at, so let me reiterate. Diana is behind this. That’s all I have to say on the subject. If you’ll excuse me?" Her meaning was clear.

"I’ll have my people call your people," Trixie said icily as she and Honey left the dressing room. "Whew, what a…"

"I’ll have my people call your people?!" Honey interrupted, starting to giggle.

Trixie grinned. "Isn’t that what all those bigshot people say?" She sobered, looking at her partner. "Obviously we need to talk to everyone backstage. Plus I have a list of people she’s worked with in the past." She rubbed her eyes, wishing she had gotten more sleep.

"Any news about John?" Honey asked, her hazel eyes worriedly noting the tiredness in her best friend’s face.

"I called the hospital this morning. He’s having the surgery at 10:00. He’s holding his own."

"I can finish up here if you want to go down there."

Trixie shook her head. "It wouldn’t do any good. My being there won’t help him. And he’s not awake, so he can’t tell me what he meant about finding Jack. And Diana needs us right now." She smiled at Honey. "Who woulda thought I’d get so practical in my old age?"

"Oh you’re the queen of practicality, all right!" Honey responded. "Okay, you win. Let’s get to work." They spent the next several hours talking to different people and met with Diana at 1:00 for lunch.

"I only get a half an hour," Diana apologized as they walked swiftly out of the theatre.

"Let’s just buy some hotdogs right here then," Trixie suggested, waving her hand at a nearby vendor. They quickly purchased the food and hurried back to the theatre to eat in Diana’s dressing room.

"We’ve talked to just about everyone," Trixie said, taking a huge bite of her hotdog. She chewed and swallowed. "Nobody can stand her," she whispered, mindful of the thin walls. "I don’t think we need to talk to the people she’s worked with before. I’m willing to bet they’ll just say the same thing."

Diana kept her voice low. "Really? I thought it was just me."

Honey shook her head. "She may be a great actress, but she’s really ticked off the people around her. I’m telling you, anyone could have done it—they all have motive!"

Diana groaned. "But apparently, I have the biggest motive of all. What are we going to do?"

"I have an idea," Trixie began, finishing up her hotdog. She licked her fingers and wiped her mouth with her napkin. "I don’t have any proof mind you, but my gut is telling me who’s behind all this."

"Who?" Honey and Diana asked together.

"Her," Trixie said.

"Who her?" Diana asked.

"Georgina, of course."

Diana forgot to be quiet. "Georgina! But Trix, that doesn’t make any sense at all!"

"Shh!" Trixie reminded her friend.

Honey was slowly nodding. "Of course. Oh Diana, it does make a kind of twisted sense."

"Even if you weren’t one of my best friends, I wouldn’t buy her ‘All About Eve’ crap anyway," Trixie said grimly.

"Guys, you have completely lost me," Diana admitted.

"Di, she’s jealous of you. She’s paranoid. She sees you as the talented up-and-comer who’s going to take her place."

Di looked at Trixie, incredulous. "Trix, that’s…nuts. She’s won two Tony awards! She’s a star. Why would she be afraid of me? I’m nobody."

"You heard what the director said. She says you have a real future," Honey said.

Diana slowly shook her head. "It’s just too bizarre."

"There’s only one way to find out. Di, I need to talk to the director; I have a plan…" Trixie spoke earnestly to her friends for a few minutes. "Detective Meggie gave me the idea, actually," she admitted, grinning. "I must say, I like the way her mind works!"

"You would," Honey smiled. Then she nodded, "But it does have merit. I think it’ll do the trick."

"It sounds a little dangerous," Diana said.

Trixie laughed. "I doubt if anyone as full of herself as Georgina would let anything really happen. And once we plant the idea, she won’t be able to resist. It’s so…theatrical!"

Diana laughed. "It’s dramatic all right! Okay, let’s go see her." The three women left the dressing room together. "I can’t wait to tell Mart about your latest evil, diabolical plan!" Di snorted, finally feeling like everything was going to be okay. "He’s meeting me tonight for a romantic night on the town," she added.

"When are you going to make an honest man out of that twin of mine?" Trixie asked as they made their way backstage.

"Don’t tell me, I know, take matters into my own hands. Isn’t that what you always advise?"

Trixie laughed. "Well, it’s worked for at least two people I know about." She smirked at Honey, who reddened slightly and gave her a tiny shove.

"Well, there’s Gwen," Diana pointed, flushing, wanting to change the subject.

Trixie patted her hand, letting the matter of Mart drop. "Okay. Here goes, ladies!"

 

Chapter 6

"I’m going to head on over to the FBI office. I need to find out whatever I can about John’s first case," Trixie remarked to Honey as they rode the train back to White Plains. "Just when I think I’m out, they pull me back in!" she said, doing her best Pacino.

"All this pro-bono work is gonna kill us!" Honey laughed. Then she added in a gentle tone, "Maybe you should leave that to tomorrow. You look tired, Trix."

"You’re right—I am tired. But I wouldn’t be able to sleep for thinking about it anyway. I’ve got to make a start on it."

"Couldn’t you sleep last night either?" Honey asked.

Trixie rubbed the back of her hand over the bridge of her nose. "I had that dream again."

"Oh Trixie! Not the one where you can’t breathe?"

"That’s the one. Poor Jim. I’ll bet his butt’s dragging today too." Trixie grinned wickedly at her sister-in-law. "Guess I’ll have to give him more appreciation to make up for it!"

"More? On second thought, please don’t answer that. T.M.I. He’s my brother, for land’s sake!" Honey moaned.

Trixie wisely said no more, entertaining herself with the sudden pornographic thoughts suffusing her brain.

***

 

"Hey Frayne! It’s good to see you," Agent Frank Johnson greeted her as she entered her old stomping ground, the White Plains FBI Office.

"Coop!" Trixie responded, shaking his hand. Everyone called him "Coop" because he was a dead ringer for Special Agent Dale Cooper from the old TV show Twin Peaks. He even drank coffee nonstop.

"I just came from the hospital. Simms is out like a light. He did great in the surgery though. He’s a tough old guy."

"Thank God," Trixie said, smiling in relief. "Guess I’ll swing by there tomorrow in that case."

"Yeah, he’ll be out all night anyway."

"Coop, I need your help. I need to find out about John’s first case." She filled the agent in on John’s cryptic plea for help.

"Wow, he must be talking about Carl Rittner. I don’t know who Jack is, though."

"Who’s that?"

"Guy killed 3 women. Horrible case. John brought him down. Happened, oh man, 30 years ago or more."

"Maybe he escaped from prison and John’s worried he’ll come after him," Trixie speculated.

"Nah, he died in prison just last year."

"And who’s Jack?" Trixie asked, confused.

"I don’t know. Rittner was Simms’ first case. And he worked alone—there wasn’t any Jack."

Trixie blew out her breath. "This isn’t making any sense at all."

"I agree. But we need to get to the bottom of it. Let’s go through his desk and see what we can turn up. See if he’s been working on anything related."

Trixie hated violating his privacy, but she knew there was no other way. And he did, after all, ask for her help. "All right," she agreed.

A few hours later, she threw up her hands. "There’s nothing," she said, frustrated.

"Go home. I’ll keep digging around here," Coop said, gulping down his 20^th cup of coffee for the day. "You still got Simms’ keys?" At Trixie’s nod, he added, "Good. We’ll have to check out his home office tomorrow."

"Yeah, I guess we’ll have to."

Coop brought his mug over to the coffee machine and poured himself another cup. "I’m sure whatever’s up is more important than a little privacy."

"Man, I don’t know how you sleep at night," Trixie marveled, heading for the stairwell. "See you tomorrow."

***

"Coop, I know this is stupid, but I feel like a little kid snooping in her parent’s bedroom for Christmas presents," Trixie said as she unlocked the front door to John Simms’ modest house the next morning.

"I feel the same way," he admitted, scooping up the newspapers that lay on the ground. "I hope he’s got some coffee in there."

Trixie rolled her eyes. "You’ve probably had 5 cups already," she said, unconsciously whispering as they quietly entered the house, pushing the door closed behind them with a quiet click.

They walked into the neat living room, Trixie noting the minimalist décor that perfectly reflected the missing inhabitant. "Let’s look for his desk," she suggested, her voice still low. They walked down the hallway and opened the first door on the right. "Bingo!" she said softly.

"Stop whispering, Frayne, you’re turning me on," Coop said, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Pipe down, coffee breath," Trixie responded in a more normal tone. "Well, he was definitely working on something," she continued, waving her hand at the paper-strewn desktop. She picked up the nearest notebook and squinted, trying to decipher John’s handwriting. "Rittner dead, no co-def. Who threats? Why now?" she read haltingly. She exchanged a glance with the agent. "Then there’s court dates and the name of the DA and lawyer, but neither one is Jack," she said, putting the notebook down. She opened a folder and winced. "Rittner may be dead, but someone is a busy bee," she said.

"Killing Jack will be my pleasure," Coop read the cut out letters. He picked up a letter opener and carefully turned the page over. "An eye for an eye, a son for a son." Coop shook his head. "Well I guess that answers two questions right there. Obviously, he’s not real worried about hiding his identity."

"This is from Carl Rittner’s son," Trixie said slowly. "There wasn’t any mention of a son, I take it?"

"Nope."

"A son for a son. Jack must be John’s son. I didn’t even know he had one. Did you?"

"Nope."

"You know, you’re not being very helpful," Trixie sighed.

Coop ignored her, opening up a manilla envelope and sliding out a small object. "Let’s see what this answering machine tape has to say." He opened up his briefcase, taking out a small tapeplayer. He popped in the tape and hit play.

 

"You don’t know me, but I know you. And I know you were the one. The one who took my father away, the one responsible for ruining my life. But killing you is too easy. I want you to suffer, like I’ve suffered. No, I won’t kill you. I’ll just kill Jack. I think that’s fair, don’t you? I have no life so why should he? And you’ll be responsible again. You’ll have to live with it. I want you to live a long, long time; knowing everyday that your son is dead because of you." The answering machine date stamp indicated the message had been left the day before John collapsed.

Trixie closed her eyes, the harsh jagged voice filling her with a familiar sick feeling. She felt her throat close and took a few deep steadying breaths.

"Frayne! You all right?"

Coop’s voice brought her back to herself and she laughed shakily. "Whew! Sorry. Just brought…something back," she said.

"I’ll bet," he said, looking at her and touching her arm.

"This all happened so long ago. Why is this guy making threats now?" she asked, getting back on track.

"I’ll dig deeper into the case history, find out everything there is to know about any relatives of Carl Rittner."

Trixie nodded. "Sounds like a plan." She leafed through the remaining paperwork. "I guess John had some kind of falling out with his son because he doesn’t even know where he is. Looks like he’s been chasing down some leads. Do you think Mr. Psycho knows, or is he bluffing?"

The federal agent shook his head grimly. "We have to assume the worst. He may be dead already."

Trixie shivered. "Oh God, I hope not. That’d kill John." She paced the room restlessly. "No. He’s not dead and I’ll tell you why. This guy obviously wants revenge. He wants to take his time, draw it out. It looks like he only just started this campaign."

"You’re probably right. But we don’t have much time. We need to find this Jack, and pronto."

"Agreed. I’ll take this list to my office with me and finish what John started. You work on the other matter." Trixie picked up several sheets of paper and stuffed them in her briefcase.

"You got it. But, hey." Coop looked her in the eye. "Don’t do anything by yourself, you got me?"

Trixie sighed. "Gleeps, you sound like my husband!"

"Smart guy."

They left the room, Trixie carefully shutting the door behind them. "I have no intention of visiting the mysterious Jack by myself, caffeine-head!" she said smartly.

Coop grinned at her. "Good!" He opened the front door with a flourish. Trixie locked it behind them. "Call me if you find anything out."

"Ditto."

 

Chapter 7

John Simms was nothing if thorough. "If John hadn’t gotten sick, he would have found him that day I’ll bet," Trixie commented to her partner, who nodded in agreement.

"It’s less than an hour on the train. Why do you suppose he never visited his own father?" Honey asked. She thought of her own impetuous father she adored, unable to imagine not seeing him.

"I don’t know. Something terrible must have happened."

"I just can’t imagine anything terrible enough to keep me from seeing Dad," Honey replied, her hazel eyes troubled.

Trixie nodded. "I know. Me either. My dad I mean. Well, and your Dad too. In a way, now he’s my dad too, and…oh you know what I mean!"

Honey laughed. "Yes, I broke the Trixie code years ago! What do you want to do now?"

"First I’m going to call Coop and fill him in." She picked up the phone and punched in the number to his cell phone, twisting the cord impatiently. "Hey, it’s me. I found him. New York. Yeah, I know. What did you…" Trixie listened for a long time, her eyes growing troubled. "Oh my God," she said, her voice low. Honey looked at her and Trixie made the hand gesture for ‘I’ll tell you in a minute’. "I’ll call him right away. And if he’s not there, we’ll…" Trixie listened, her face darkening. "Okay, okay—you’ve got a point. Don’t rub it in, you do have a point! Okay. Bye." She hung up the phone.

"What point? What’s going on?" Honey was almost beside herself in curiosity.

Trixie smiled wryly. "Don’t tell anyone I admitted it, but even I can see that sending two armed FBI agents, who specialize in hostage situations, over to Jack’s house is a pretty neat idea."

Honey smiled. "Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. And even the best detectives delegate, you know. Remember Ironside?"

Trixie sighed. "Yeah, yeah. But I always liked Starskey and Hutch hanging out of the Thunderbird, screaming around the corner on two wheels, shooting at the bad guys." Her eyes sparkled at the look of horror on her partner’s face. "Don’t worry, Honey. I really can’t picture doing that in my Honda!" She reached for the phone, suddenly sobering. "I’m at least calling this guy, though." She punched in the number they found and waited. "Machine," she explained. She paused and then left a short, urgent message, explaining the gist of the situation and John’s hospitalization, directing the younger Simms to report to the nearest police station, or FBI office. She left her name and number, hanging up and turning to Honey. "Well, that’s that. That poor guy’s not going to believe it when he gets his messages."

"What about Rittner’s son? What’s up with that?"

"Can I tell you on the way to the hospital? I want to go see John and let him know we found his son."

As they drove to the hospital, Trixie told Honey what Coop and a couple of other agents dug up. Carl’s son was just a baby when he went to prison and never knew who his father was until a few years ago. He was a troubled kid, bouncing around foster homes and institutions as his mother went in and out of rehab and jail, until he finally ran away at age 16. He followed his parent’s footsteps, repeatedly getting arrested for a series of increasingly violent crimes.

"Then he somehow found out about his father and went to visit him. I can only imagine the sick, psychological games that man must have played on him," Trixie said, her blue eyes troubled.

Honey, who had a minor in psychology, nodded. "Oh I’m sure he did quite a number on him. It couldn’t have been too difficult to convince him that his life would have been different if only…"

"Yeah, if only. Then he plants the whole vengeance seed into his head."

"When his father died suddenly, he must have snapped. There he was, alone again," Honey sighed.

Trixie pulled into the hospital parking lot, quickly finding a space. "Federal agents are on their way to Jack’s house as we speak. They aren’t going to let anything happen." They got out and hurried across the parking lot, glad of the weak sun pushing its way through the clouds. They made their way to the ICU, glad to see that John’s room was under FBI guard. Good work, Coop! Trixie thought approvingly.

"Any change in his condition?" she asked.

"Not really. He did ask for you though, briefly."

Trixie and Honey entered the room quietly, intimidated by the sight of wires and tubes surrounding the once vital man. Honey hung back as Trixie approached the side of the bed.

"Johnny? It’s Trixie," she said softly. His face looked gray.

The agent stirred and opened his eyes.

"Don’t try and talk. I found Jack in New York City. Agents are on their way to him now." Trixie said hastily, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Don’t tell me not to talk. I’m not dead yet," Simms rasped.

Trixie grinned, relieved. "Sorry sir."

"Max Rittner?"

"They’re looking for him."

Simms grimaced. "It all happened so fast."

"I know." Trixie bit her lip, wanting to say more.

"Thanks kiddo." Simms closed his eyes, obviously worn out.

"You’re welcome," Trixie whispered. She turned to Honey and tried to smile. "I think I need to…" she rushed into the little bathroom, her stomach reeling, little spots dancing in her vision.

"Trixie, are you okay? Should I call someone?" Honey called through the door, alarmed. She heard the sound of flushing, then running water. The door opened and Trixie emerged, her face pale.

"I’m all right. Gleeps, I used to handle stress much better than this!" she grimaced.

"You don’t need to ‘handle’ anything," Honey said squeezing her arm. "Have a good cry, I’ll still respect you in the morning!" she smiled at her best friend, glad to see a little color returning to her cheeks.

"Now I don’t feel like crying," Trixie smiled back. She glanced back at sleeping John Simms as they quietly left the room. "Besides, he’s too obnoxious to die. Believe me!" Her cell phone started ringing as they left the hospital, heading back to the car. She answered it on the second ring. "’lo?"

"Is this Trixie Frayne?" a strained voice asked.

"Yes. Who’s this?"

"It’s Jack Simms. You wanna tell me what the hell is going on?"

 

Chapter 8

Trixie gasped, almost dropping the phone. "Jack Simms!?" she said, sharing an electrifying glance with Honey. "Sir, listen to me. This is very important. I don’t know where you’re calling from, but you could be in grave danger. You need to go directly to the nearest…"

"Yes, yes, I got your message."

Trixie was astounded. "Then why…"

"I retrieved your message from the road; I’m not at home. And how do I know this isn’t some kind of sick joke?"

Trixie slowly listed the White Plains FBI phone number. "Please, call this number. They can confirm everything."

"This isn’t a joke, is it?" Jack said, his voice low.

"I only wish it were," Trixie replied. "Look, you’re life is in danger, don’t you understand?"

"Oh God, we’ve been such idiots. Neither one of us wanting to give in first." Jack’s voice crackled in Trixie’s ear, his pain evident. "I’m right near that hospital you mentioned, only a block or two. I’m going to see him."

"Jack! No, someone may be…" Trixie shut the phone off and looked at Honey. "…following you," she finished flatly, shaking her head. "Boy, the apple sure didn’t fall far from the tree!" she said, exasperated, tapping her teeth with the antenna.

"We’d better call someone from the office," Honey exclaimed. They both heard the sound of tires squealing as a car turned into the parking lot near them, instinctively knowing it could only be one person.

"There’s no time. I can’t leave him out here by himself!" Trixie exclaimed. The two women turned in the direction the sound came from and groaned at the sight of several cars turning into the parking lot.

"What is this, a parade?" Honey griped. Trixie almost laughed, her gentle friend not given to many outbursts. A Mercedes parked near them, a tall, attractive man striding towards them running a restless hand through his dark hair. The likeness to his father was remarkable.

Trixie held up her hand. "We’ve got to get inside," she said, sparing any introductions. The trio headed back towards the hospital in tense silence, Trixie and Honey looking around them nervously. "It’s not safe out here," she muttered to Jack.

"It’s not safe anywhere, didn’t you know that?"

The three spun around and froze at the sight of the gun being pointed at them. "That’s right, stay nice and still," Max Rittner said slowly, his face twisted in a menacing leer as he came around the side of a dirty blue van. Trixie risked a quick glance around, glad to see there weren’t any other people in immediate danger. Max stood in front of them. "You’re coming with me," he said, sneering at Jack who looked back at him coldly. "I don’t need you two, so maybe I’ll just dump you somewhere." He grinned cruelly at Trixie and Honey who glanced at one another, sending a message with their eyes.

"Ohhhhhhh," Honey gasped, collapsing at Max’s feet in a dead faint. He looked down at her prone body, clearly surprised and Trixie sprang with all her might, remembering to lead with her shoulder which connected with Max’s stomach, hard. As he staggered backwards, off-balance, Honey kicked him in the groin with both feet, rolling out of the way as he went down with a thud, letting out a cry of agony. The gun dropped with a clatter, Trixie letting out an involuntary scream as it went off.

"Trixie!" Honey cried.

Trixie quickly picked up the gun, pointing it down at Max who still lay writhing on the ground. "It just startled me," she explained to her relieved friend.

"Oh my, oh my God," Jack said, still stunned. He reached down and helped Honey to her feet. "Are you...wow, that was…" he got out.

"I’m fine," Honey replied, brushing the dirt off her clothes. She grinned at Trixie. "I can’t wait to tell Dan his trick worked!"

"Just stay down," Trixie said tersely to the man on the ground who was starting to rise. He looked into her eyes, lying back down when he saw she meant it.

"Hey Frayne, you need any help?" Trixie smiled when she heard the sound of running feet.

"Oh, just all I can get," she called, as the FBI agent guarding John’s door came running up to them. She gingerly handed over the gun.

"As usual, it doesn’t look like you need any help at all!" he said. He glanced down at Max. "Nope, you just keep on resting, buddy. The local police are on their way to take you to a nice, comfy, holding cell."

"You couldn’t be more wrong. You should have seen my partner in action!" Trixie exclaimed, giving Honey a proud look. She didn’t know what she would do without her best friend.

"You guys must make a pretty good team."

"The best," Trixie replied, putting her arm around Honey. "By the way, this is Jack Simms."

"Yes, I see the family resemblance," the agent said. "You’re Dad’s a damn good man."

Jack acknowledged the compliment with a nod. "How is he?" he asked, clearly afraid of the answer.

"He’s a tough old guy. Why don’t you go up and see him? I think I have Sleeping Beauty under control." They could already hear the wail of the police siren in the near distance. "Frayne, I think you remember how to file a report…?"

"Yeah, some things you never forget," Trixie grimaced. As much as she enjoyed her work, paperwork ranked right up there with root canals. "Come on Jack, I’ll take you to him." The three of them headed back across the parking lot, Trixie’s legs feeling a little rubbery with the aftershock.

"My heart’s still going like a rabbit’s," Honey remarked, taking a deep breath.

"Mine too," Trixie acknowledged.

"Mine three," Jack laughed shakily. "This has been quite a day!" he said wryly. "I don’t know if I can take any more surprises."

"Jack, this is none of my business, but I hope you and your Dad can put whatever problems you have behind you. Life is just too short," Trixie said, her blue eyes serious as they walked towards John’s room. The three of them stopped just outside the door.

"You know, I never meant for this to happen. We had a huge argument years ago. I got so mad I stormed out. Then, I guess I couldn’t figure out a route back. Hours turned into days and nights, then months, then…we’re just two very stubborn people," Jack finished, his eyes regretful. He looked at the door and took a deep breath.

Trixie opened the door and gave him a gentle shove. "Welcome back," she said softly, letting the door close behind him. She turned to Honey, who was surprised to see tears running down Trixie’s face.

"Oh Trix! What is it?"

Trixie shook her head. "Honey, you’ve got to promise me something. Promise me that if I ever pull a stunt like that after having an argument with Jim, you’ll drag me back, even if I’m kicking and screaming!"

Honey laughed and hugged her swiftly. "I will. It’s a promise!" she said, her eyes shining.

 

Chapter 9

"You don’t suppose Jim’d buy a nail in the tire?" Trixie asked Honey hopefully. The two women stared at Trixie’s car, the back tire flat as a pancake, the bullet hole evident.

"Kicking AND screaming, remember?"

Epilogue – 6 weeks later

Trixie held her breath as she watched her childhood friend Diana perform on opening night, fulfilling a dream she’d held ever since she performed in their high school production of Romeo and Juliet. To her surprise, she became completely caught up in the play, so much so that she almost forgot that the beautiful young woman playing Sally was her own friend.

"You make me feel too human, Joe. All I want is peace and quiet, not love. I’m tired, Joe. And I don’t mind being what you call half dead. In fact it’s what I like. I took an awful beating in love and I don’t want it again! I want you to stop it! Don’t devil me, Joe. I beg you, don’t devil me…let me alone…

Trixie sighed with pleasure as the couple on stage kissed passionately, the audience applauding as the curtain fell, ending the scene. "Wow, Diana is so wonderful, " she whispered to Jim, sitting beside her.

"She’s got me completely convinced she’s that woman," Jim whispered back, impressed. "I keep forgetting she’s Di!"

"Me too. Poor Mart—he must be dying during the love scenes!"

"It’d drive me crazy," Jim admitted, putting his hand on her knee. He noticed several admiring looks coming Trixie’s way when they walked into the theatre earlier, her soft blonde curls and creamy skin perfectly set off by the simple black, velvet dress she wore; dumbfounded by the wave of unexpected possessiveness that overtook him. Seeing her kiss someone else was definitely not on his list of fun ways to spend an evening.

Trixie merely smiled and laid her hand on top of his, sliding it further up her leg as the curtain began to rise. She couldn’t wait to get him alone later.

It was a proud and happy group that gathered at Sardi’s Restaurant afterwards, an opening night tradition for many years. Diana’s parents shared a table with Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler, as well as Trixie’s parents; none of them able to believe how much their children had grown up. Trixie, Jim, Honey, Brian, Mart and Dan crammed into a nearby booth, enjoying the ruby-red banquettes and the grinning caricatures of the show business famous that lined the walls.

"How is it that you ended up being Mart’s date?" Honey asked Dan, looking unbelievably handsome in a dark suit.

"Well, what can I say; Jennifer and I…well, there is no more Jennifer and I," Dan replied. He didn’t look entirely unhappy.

"She was obnoxious anyway," Trixie said bluntly, popping a shrimp into her mouth, causing the group to roar with laughter.

"Right as rain, friend o’mine," Dan said, grinning at her. He’d never admit it, not in a million years, but he secretly wished he could meet someone like her.

"Tactful Trixie strikes again," Mart chortled.

Diana walked over to the table with the director Gwen. "Gwen, these are my closest friends in the world. She quickly introduced everyone.

"Did you like the play?" she asked.

"We loved it. It was better than cats," Trixie and Dan answered in monotone. They grinned at each other.

Gwen laughed appreciatively. "Ask a silly question…"

"Seriously, it was incredible," Dan said. Trixie nodded.

"Don’t listen to my sister—the play was amazing. Everyone was so real," Brian added.

"Ah, but I’m glad I listened to your sister." Gwen shook Trixie’s hand, speaking earnestly. "I never got a chance to thank you. You’re little plan saved us weeks of heartache. Worked like a charm, I must say," Gwen laughed, her sharp face softening in remembrance. "Our Ms. Cole calmed right down and went to work like a trooper!"

Trixie lowered her voice. "I can’t believe she stayed with the play. I would have been way too embarrassed." She glanced over at Georgina Cole, who was chattering away with the leading man. "Can you imagine a grown woman rigging a light fixture so that it would practically fall on her?" Trixie and Gwen staged a heated conversation that ended with the director telling Trixie that it wasn’t as if Diana was trying to kill anyone, now if something came crashing down…

"She did apologize afterwards, though. In fact, we ended up having a very nice conversation. She really opened up about her fears of aging, and being forgotten," Diana said sincerely.

"You’re sweeter than I am, Ms. Diana Lynch," Gwen said, patting her shoulder. "It was nice to meet you all." She walked back to the table she shared with the producers and lead actors.

"Scooch over," Diana said, squeezing herself into the booth.

"Don’t you want to sit with more famous people?" Brian asked, grinning.

"Are you kidding? I’ve been spending day and night with these people for weeks. I miss you guys so much!" she finished, laying her head on Mart’s shoulder. "Especially you, Dr. Belden. You need to stop working so hard. I feel like I haven’t seen you for a year."

Brian smiled, putting his arm around Honey’s shoulder. "I know. Comes with the territory, I’m afraid." Honey twined her leg around his under the table.

"When does the paper come?" Jim asked, referring to the traditional New York Times theatre review that was sent by special courier to the restaurant. It was already heading into early morning hours, but they were all too excited about Diana’s first review to consider leaving.

"Oh boy, don’t remind me. I’m so nervous," Diana exclaimed.

"I’m sure it will be great. You were so unbelievably fantastic Diana," Trixie said warmly. Everyone echoed the sentiment.

"Well, I couldn’t have done it without the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency!"

"I could have done without the love scenes, myself," Mart mumbled. "You don’t, ah, enjoy them, do you?" He glared as everyone laughed.

"Oh Mart, it’s like I told you earlier. Sally’s kissing Joe, not me!"

"You got my full sympathy, brother," Jim said, his eyes amused.

Diana sighed, lifting her hands and letting them drop. She bent her head and kissed Mart soundly. "Now that was me kissing someone!" she said, laughing at his red face.

Trixie looked around the table in satisfaction. We’re all turning out pretty good. We may not have meetings anymore, but I still feel like we’re the Bob Whites of the Glen; all for one and one for all.

"Here it is, here it is, here it is." The voice of Gwen broke into her thoughts as the director hurried over to their table, brandishing the New York Times. "I think we’re a hit!" she gushed, dropping the paper in front of Diana, and rushing back to her table.

Diana turned pale. She picked up the paper and handed it to Trixie. "I can’t look. Read it?" she said, her voice shaky. She leaned against Mart as Trixie flipped through the pages, looking for the review.

"Here it is. Oh Di, they loved the play!" She read quickly. "Yeah yeah yeah, blah blah, where’s Di, where’s…ah ha!" She cleared her throat and read aloud.

 

"What can I say about the extraordinarily lovely Diana Lynch, except to say that she combines the guileless charm and innocence of a young Helen Hayes, the ability to seduce an audience in a moment of emotional and physical intimacy of a mature Lynn Fontanne, and the authority and command of a stage of Katharine Hepburn? As if these attributes were not enough, add a beautifully refreshing honesty and a face that seems to mirror every possible human emotion.

To put it simply, in the role of Sally, a woman forced to choose between remaining cool and unsentimental, or submitting to the passion that is building inside of her, Ms. Lynch eloquently and with grace joins that club we like to call "actress of her generation". To say she has a bright future in the theatre is an understatement."

"Oh Diana!" Honey squealed like a teenager. Nearby diners looked astonished as the table erupted in cheers, congratulating the stunned Diana.

"I don’t believe it," she said, breaking down and crying, burying her face in Mart’s shoulder.

"Believe it, Diana. You’re going to be a star," Trixie said, her voice awed.

*     *     *

"Do you know what I want to do now?" Trixie asked Jim as they left the restaurant.

"I’m almost afraid to ask."

Trixie smiled and took his arm. "It’s kind of touristy, I suppose, but remember that scene in Manhattan where Woody Allen and Diane Keaton sit watching the sun come up over the 59^th Street bridge? It’s only a couple of miles from here."

They hailed a cab and soon found themselves sitting on the famous bench, looking out over the water and the twinkling lights that lined the bridge, the darkness giving way to a soft, purple-rose sky as the dawn crept near. They drew their coats tight against the chilly air, enjoying the quiet beauty and relative stillness.

"I almost expect to hear a Gershwin tune," Trixie sighed. "Isn’t this beautiful?"

"I’ll tell you what’s beautiful—there hasn’t been any crazy, vengeance seeking madmen pointing guns at my wife or sister for over a month!" Jim said wryly, putting his arm around Trixie’s shoulder.

"Mmm, that’s a good one. Sure am glad you went to college!" Trixie said, kicking his foot.

"Yeah well, I may have a Master’s Degree from Columbia, but I swear I have a Ph.D. in Worrying about Trixie!" Jim said ruefully.

"Har har. Well, you’ll be glad to know I have several FBI agents and boys in blue, including our own Dan Mangan, programmed on the speed dial of my cellphone, ready and willing to assist me should the need ever arise. So there!" Trixie said tartly, sticking out her tongue and crossing her blue eyes.

"I do not believe it," Jim said, spacing each word. "You don’t mean to tell me you’re actually willing and able to ask for help? Is there a New World order?" He teased, pulling her to him, kissing her. "What brought this on?"

Trixie shook her head slightly. "There are some instincts that are stronger than my ‘detective-ing’, you know." She smiled softly, almost bursting with the news she’d been hugging to herself all day.

"Oh yeah? What instincts are those?"

Trixie paused, her smile widening, her face lit up from within. She laced her fingers with his, gently placing his hand on her still-flat stomach. "Maternal," she said, laughing at the look of astonished joy in Jim’s green eyes.

The End

Author’s notes: The play dialogue is from The Golden Boy, naughtily used without any permission at all. For shame, for shame, for shame!