Wannabe Author’s notes: Wow! What a wonderful sense of accomplishment completing this has given me! This labor of love has been a wonderful experience. MANY thanks to Zap for taking the time to post this story and all of the other wonderful stories at her site. Thanks to Misty, who’s "The Song Remembers When" was the first piece of fanfic I read – it inspired me to want to write my own fanfic. Thanks to Eric and his essay on hostage rescue which helped a lot as I was writing this chapter. And a special thanks to everyone on this board – you have all been wonderfully supportive and encouraging as I was writing. Now, for some practical notes. Unlike Miss Trask and Regan I do not like watching wrestling or any of that kind of stuff, so my fight moves may leave something to be desired. If I didn’t know the name of a particular move, I kind of gave it my own descriptive name – hopefully you all will know what I’m talking about! And, oh yes, for those of you paying attention, June 1^st came and went without a mention of Mart’s birthday – sorry for the oversight, that’s one drawback of posting chapters as I complete them. By my calendar, June 1^st was the day they all met in the clubhouse and Honey told everyone off, so pretend she yelled Happy Birthday at Mart. J And now, without further ado, I bring you the last installment…

Chapter Twelve

Honey and Jim waited impatiently in the white police van while Molinson’s men searched Scott’s house. They sat in tense silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Memories of Trixie floated through each of their minds, neither willing to face the thought that memories of Trixie might be all that they had left. Each second that ticked by seemed an eternity, and just when the two thought they could stand it no more, one of Molinson’s men came to the side door of the van holding a baggy with a small object inside. Jim and Honey’s eyes locked, unspoken questions in their eyes, wondering what this could mean.

"Do either of you recognize this?" The uniformed policemen asked them, holding the clear plastic bag out for their inspection.

Honey immediately recognized it as one of Trixie’s barrettes and said so. "When I dropped her off at Scott’s house last night, she was wearing this barrette in her hair." Honey stated. Fear gripped her gut; why was this man showing her Trixie’s barrette and not Trixie herself?

Before either Honey or Jim could say anything the policeman spoke. "Unfortunately we didn’t find your friend, but we did find this barrette in the basement. As you’ve identified it as Ms. Belden’s barrette, we can officially declare her a missing person and bring Scott in for questioning."

Honey’s face went white as she realized that her friend was still missing. Jim closed his eyes and told himself that this wasn’t happening, that the girl he loved wasn’t still missing. When he opened them he found himself still sitting in the back of a police van, the policeman hurrying away with Trixie’s barrette to inform Molinson of Honey’s statement, and his sister staring at him with fright in her eyes. Unfortunately, it was really happening.

Honey’s cell phone rang then. It was Alex.

"Honey, any news?" Alex’s worried voice asked.

"Captain Molinson got a search warrant and they just searched Scott’s house," Honey paused to take a deep breath, trying to swallow the lump in her throat that suddenly made it hard to say what she had to say. "Trixie wasn’t there, but the barrette she was wearing last night was."

Alex drew in his breath sharply. "Are they taking Scott into custody for questioning?"

"I think that’s the plan," Honey said, wiping away the tear sliding down her cheek. She couldn’t give in to her emotions, not when she had to stay calm to try to get Trixie out of this mess.

"Okay, I’ll call the agents on their way to Sleepyside and prep them for an interrogation of this guy. I think I have an indication that Jones may have been able to fake his death. The warden is not being too cooperative but I do have reports of a guard with severe gambling debts who was suddenly able to pay them all off right after Jones allegedly died. I have another pair of agents enroute to the prison to check into that angle, but it’s looking very likely that Jones is involved."

Honey wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or not. She was glad to know that her suspicions had been confirmed and they finally knew who Trixie’s stalker was, but knowing that Jim’s stepfather was on the loose sent an icy chill through her heart. "Thanks, I’ll pass that on. Anything else?"

"Jones must have taken Trixie somewhere after you confronted Scott. You and Jim know better than anyone where he might take her. Think of every possible place he could have gone and keep Molinson’s men and my agents informed. I am catching the next flight out of National into JFK. I’ve arranged to have a helicopter take me to Sleepyside, so I should be there in a matter of a couple hours. I’m on my way to the airport now."

Honey agreed to do what Alex said and told him how relieved she was that he could fly up to help Trixie out.

"Anything for that girl," Alex stated. "Honey, we are going to find her alive. Don’t worry."

Honey appreciated his confidence. "I know, Alex, thanks."

Alex hung up his cell phone. God, he thought, if you give me Trixie back alive I’ll be good and never pressure her to join the FBI again. He could only hope he had been heard and that his prayer would be answered.

Honey turned to Jim after she had hung up and reported what Alex had told her. The look of pure hatred that crossed Jim’s face at the mention of Jones’ name pierced her heart. Jonesy had been responsible for enough misery in Jim’s life, she was going to make sure he paid for doing this to the two people she loved most on earth, besides Brian.

"I guess we should go back to the Farm. Everyone should be there by now and we can brainstorm together what Jones’ next move will be," Jim reasoned. Honey agreed and got out of the van to go find Molinson. She stepped out just in time to see Scott being driven to police headquarters in the back of a squad car. She was glad to see Scott in such a miserable position, but the look of animosity and malice that he gave her made her uneasy. She shuddered to imagine what he was capable of and what he might have already done to Trix.

She found Molinson and reported the call from Alex. He immediately agreed that the best plan was to contemplate the possibilities of Jim’s stepfather’s next move and possible location. "Because of your statement, we can definitely report Trixie as a missing person. I just called in a request for a manhunt. We’ll have two person teams scouring every inch of the area." The normally gruff policeman looked at Honey in what could almost be called tenderness. "We’ll find our shamus."

Honey was surprised, but grateful, at Molinson’s unexpected compassion. She remembered the compassion he had shown for the Dodge couple when their castaway children had disappeared and decided she liked this man who could be rough when the job called for it, but tender when the moment required it. She gave the police captain her sweet smile. "I know we will. Trixie’s just too important to all of us to leave us. What would you do if you didn’t have her in your hair?"

Molinson gave a rueful smile. "A day without her interference would be a dull day indeed." Then, in true Molinson form, the moment was over and he was back to the gruff policeman Honey knew best. "Now let’s going! Back to the Farm to brainstorm!"

During the seemingly endless ride down Glen Road, Jim borrowed Honey’s phone and called ahead to Crabapple Farm to let them know that Trixie was not yet with them. Mart took the call and informed the gathered assembly, which now included Brian, Dan, and Hallie, the latest news using very simple language, a sign of just how grave things were.

"They want us to try and figure out where Jones might have taken her, so let’s put on our thinking caps and give it our best shot," Mart sighed as he sat down heavily at the kitchen table. Bobby ran to the study to retrieve a pen and some paper.

"Well, there are lots of places close by he could have taken her," Dan said reasonably. "In the game preserve alone there are an unbelievable number of shacks and buildings. It’s really quite amazing when you think of all of the buildings that seem to appear back there."

Brian spoke up. "Dan’s right. There’s the old schoolhouse for one. You know, the one that Jim, Trixie, and I got stuck in during that blizzard right before the antique show."

"Not to mention that little shack where we found the hamburger meat that the Midnight Marauder stole from Wimpy’s," Mart added, remembering how he had been a suspect himself during that case.

"And that barn on Glen Road where we met Nancy the goat when we were looking for the Dodge kids," Di added.

"Then there’s the old abandoned farmhouse that Mr. Wheeler owns where Trixie caught those counterfeiters," Dan said, looking at Bobby trying to frantically scribble all of the information down.

Jim, Honey, and Molinson entered the Belden kitchen in time to hear Dan’s last remark. "Good," Jim said, "Honey and I were thinking along the same lines – all of the boarded up, abandoned places we’ve come across around here. There’s a lot of them floating around for such a small town."

Honey spoke up, her worry less apparent now that she had a concrete task at hand to occupy her concerned mind. "What about that district of abandoned warehouses where we broke down that time in the model T?"

Bobby scribbled that down as well.

"What about all of the places that Jonesy broke into at my school? He may figure that we won’t look there again if we think he’s already been and gone," Jim added.

The group had just finished the list of places they considered possibilities when Alex arrived, having been driven to the Farm by one of Sleepyside’s finest. He introduced himself and, despite their worries and the significant men in their lives, Diana, Hallie, and Honey couldn’t help but notice how attractive Alex Barfield was. His jet-black hair made a nice contrast to his piercing blue eyes, and the khaki pants and white oxford shirt he wore could not hide the muscular frame beneath.

Alex looked over the list the group had compiled, trying to decipher Bobby's handwriting. Abandoned barn, abandoned shack, abandoned schoolhouse, abandoned warehouse - could this small town really have that many abandoned structures? He shook his head and looked at the group. "Which do you think is most likely?"

Everyone looked to Jim, unofficially making him the group spokesman. "Frankly, I don’t know. And it’s possible that he’s taken her far away from here, too."

Alex shook his head. "There are several reasons that I don’t think he’s gotten far. One, I think they were planning on keeping her in the area, possibly even in Scott’s house. It was Honey showing up unexpectedly that may have prompted the move, in which case it would have had to have been somewhere close and familiar to Jones. Two, I’ve been in touch with some profilers, getting their take on the case. They feel that given the history between Jones and Trixie, and Jones’ probable state of mind, he will keep her somewhere that has meaning to them both. Since the place he encountered her on the two previous occasions was Sleepyside, it stands to reason that he would keep her in the area. Three, and this will come as a relief to you. The profilers feel that Jones will want to draw this out. He has been planning this for many years and he will want to make it last. He will want Trixie to think things over for a period of time, just as he did in prison." Mrs. Belden was quietly sobbing at this information, and everyone else looked at Alex with troubled eyes, not wanting to think of Trixie suffering and scared somewhere in Jones’ hands. "As bad as that sounds, we have to keep sight of the fact that this is a good thing. It means that Trixie is still alive in all probabilities." There was a collective sigh of relief at this news.

"Well, if that’s the case, we know that Jones is familiar with Ten Acres, my school. We don’t know how familiar he is with the other buildings on that list. But if he’s been hiding out in the area recently, and we know he has, any of those could be a possibility."

Alex nodded and turned to Molinson. "I’ve got my agents currently interrogating the suspect you picked up this morning. I understand that you have quite a manhunt going throughout Sleepyside right now. Inform the teams responsible for the areas which have these buildings on them to be particularly alert," Alex spoke quietly but authoritatively. The police captain immediately did as he was told, thinking only of Trixie’s well being and not once of his usual distaste for outside agencies "stepping on his toes," as he liked to say.

Alex turned to Mr. and Mrs. Belden. "We are going to do everything humanly possible to get your daughter back. Trixie made quite an impression when she went through the training at Quantico last year. Not only are these men trained professionals, but they feel like Trixie is one of their own. They’re not about to let anything happen to her."

Mrs. Belden’s eyes brimmed at Alex’s praise of Trixie and she smiled gratefully at the handsome FBI agent. "Thanks, Agent Barfield. I appreciate all that you’re doing." Mr. Belden added his thanks as well.

"Please, call me Alex." He then turned back to Molinson, who had finished radioing instructions to his men. "I’ve ordered the FBI Hostage Rescue Team. They should be in flight shortly and arriving in Sleepyside around noon."

This news was greeted with awe and uneasiness from Trixie’s assembled friends and family. "Do you really think that will be necessary?" Brian asked in a voice filled with emotion. Honey, standing next to him, leaned into him. Jim noticed Honey’s action and briefly wondered if it was to give him support and comfort, or for her own support and comfort. Suddenly, more than ever, his arms ached to hold Trixie, to feel her feminine softness against him, and smell her hair, which he always equated with the warm smell of sunshine. He felt capable of killing his former stepfather right then for causing all of this agony.

The group sat in tense silence, some wandering into the family room, some staying in the kitchen, glancing at the phone every few seconds, as if willing it to ring. Looking at the door of the kitchen, desperately craving the sight of Trixie walking through it, announcing it had all been a big mistake and putting an end to this nightmare. Mrs. Belden busied herself the only way she knew how, by baking muffins and fixing a large breakfast that she know one would eat. It didn’t matter, she knew she had to keep herself busy or go crazy with worry. She served up plates filled with eggs and muffins, sausage and hash browns. Bobby half-heartedly ate his, while the others either toyed with their food or looked nauseated at the sight of it.

Dan and Hallie retreated to the sofa in the family room, holding each other and whispering unintelligible things to each other. Mart sat in Mr. Belden’s favorite chair, holding Diana who was no longer able to hold back her tears. She and Trixie had planned to spend the day together shopping and relaxing – having fun together. Diana wished desperately that she and Trixie were even know happily browsing the stores of Sleepyside, saying hello to old Grandpa Crimper and eating ice cream cones.

Honey sat at the kitchen table and watched Brian shuffle the food around his plate. Alex had ensconced himself in the study by the phone. Molinson kept track of what was going on via radio, and Jim and Mr. Belden paced incessantly.

All of them prayed.

At noon, when the reports from the search party teams continued to come in that there was no sign of Jones or Trixie and that Scott wasn’t talking, Jim couldn’t take it anymore. "I have to get out of this house," he stated. His friends looked at him, sympathy for him mingling with their own fear. "I’m going to take a walk."

"Do you want company?" Honey volunteered.

Jim shook his head. "No, I’m just going to go for a quick walk to clear my head." He turned to Molinson. "Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to mess up the investigation." Molinson grunted in response but didn’t object.

"Take my cell, so we can call you if there are any developments," Honey crossed the room and handed her brother the small silver object. Jim accepted it and headed out the door, not quite sure where he was headed.

As he walked, he tried to calm himself, but as the had hours ticked by with no news, he found himself very agitated. He forced the thousand regrets out of his head and started to think about more positive things. He thought of his life with his mother, Katje, his life with Jones, and then his life with Trixie. During that horrible time with Jones he had told himself he would never again have it as good as when his mom was in his life. He knew he would get away from Jones and he knew he would survive, but he never thought he would find someone who brought out the best in him the way his mom did when she was alive.

And then he had met Trixie. Suddenly, there was sunshine in his life again, a reason to get out of bed again. With Trixie in his life he knew he would not merely survive, but thrive. She had such a buoyancy and vibrancy, such a passion for life, such spirit and spunk, that he felt himself coming alive again. The raw pain that he had carried around with him since the death of his mother started to subside and the joy of being with Trixie began to take its place. Little did he know when he awoke in his uncle’s run down mansion that his angel of mercy, with the short, sandy curls and vibrant blue eyes, was standing looking down at him.

And how had he repaid her? When that angel wanted to test her wings a little bit, he tried to clip them. And when that hadn’t work he had turned his back on her. All of his old instincts had returned: protect yourself, strike out before someone strikes at you. But if he had stopped to think about it, he would have known that Trixie would never hurt him. From the moment she entered his life, encouraging him to open his boys’ school and giving him that crushed, half-melted candy bar when he was starving, she had done nothing but be there for him, supporting him.

All of the emotions of late, the pride at her graduation, the sheer joy of seeing her looking so beautiful at his sister’s engagement party, the happiness at showing her the house he had built with her in mind, the jealousy at hearing she was with Scott, and the fear of losing her to Jonesy’s sick revenge fantasy, finally combined and took their toll on the handsome redhead. He succumbed to them and sat underneath the closest tree and sobbed, great heaves that wracked his body and finally left him exhausted. But when the last sigh escaped his throat, Jim realized how cathartic it had been. He took a deep breath, collected himself, and continued his walk. He wasn’t ready to go back to the farm looking like this. Before his release, he had walked aimlessly, without purpose, but suddenly he had a destination in mind. Jim headed for the Bob-White Clubhouse.

As he approached it, he saw a movement in one of the windows. His heart pounding, he crept stealthily up to the window and peered inside. Adrenaline coursed through his veins when his mind comprehended what his eyes saw: Jonesy standing over a helpless Trixie. He ducked down and took several deep breaths. What should he do? Bust in there and take Jones himself while he had the element of surprise? Or call Molinson? It was also quite possible that the FBI HRT was already at the Farm and could be called in.

He recalled what he had read about how the HRT worked. A team would surround the hostage area composed of snipers with their rifles and spotters with their scopes to observe the situation. Depending on the situation, they might try to negotiate for the hostage, or they might just storm the place and recover the hostage that way. If they stormed the place, Jim recalled, they would try to disable the hostage taker by using flash-bangs or other methods to stun the culprit. Sometimes even a shattering window was enough. He also remembered that the human brain takes three seconds to respond to anything and so the goal of the entry team was to secure a hostage area in just two seconds.

Jim pondered this. It all seemed so unreal. What if something went wrong and Trixie got injured, or worse, from the HRT’s efforts? They would be bringing guns into the situation after all, and possibly explosives. What if they weren’t quick enough and Jones was able to carry out his ultimate revenge? Jim didn’t know if he could trust these men with Trixie’s life. The only person he trusted with Trixie’s life right now was himself.

But they were trained professionals. They were the men trained to do this kind of thing, drilling over and over and over until they were perfect because anything less was not enough. He had a pure hatred of Jonesy to drive him on, but he had no training whatsoever in this kind of thing. What if he messed up? He would never forgive himself.

Jim crept up again to have another look in the window. Jones wasn’t threatening Trixie with a gun, which was a relief. He seemed to be standing above her talking. Pride welled within Jim as he saw the look on Trixie’s face as she gazed at his ex-stepfather: defiance mixed with disgust and revulsion. He was glad to see that Jones hadn’t stamped out her spirit. His eyes shifted to the table that Mart had so lovingly refinished years ago; upon it lay a pistol that Jim could only assume was loaded.

Jim knew what he had to do. Trixie’s life was too important for him to try anything himself. He snuck away from the clubhouse and used Honey’s cell phone to call the Farm.

Brian answered the phone.

"Brian, get me Molinson," Jim ordered, his voice low even though he knew he had moved far enough away from the clubhouse to be heard.

Brian heard the urgency in Jim’s voice and immediately did as he was told, hoping against hope that his future brother-in-law had discovered something that would help Trixie.

Molinson’s gruff voice barked into the phone. "Molinson. What’s up?"

"Jones has Trixie in the clubhouse," Jim explained. "There is a 9 mm on the table, but when I left to call you he wasn’t threatening Trixie with it."

Relief flooded through Molinson at the knowledge that Trixie was found. He was confident that the HRT that had just arrived in Sleepyside would be more than capable of delivering Trixie safely from that criminal Jones. "How does Trixie look?"

Jim allowed himself a chuckle. "Like our Trixie. She’s spitting mad, but her feet and hands are bound."

Molinson smiled at the image of Trixie facing down her captor. Quite frankly, he didn’t envy Jones. "Come back to the Farm. We’ll get the FBI team in from Sleepyside and rescue her."

"No," Jim surprised the Captain with his firm objection.

"No? Now Jim," Molinson started.

"No," Jim repeated in a voice that left no room for argument. "I’m not going to leave her now that I’ve found her. She’s going to stay in my sight until the team arrives. Don’t worry, I will quietly move out of the way when the time comes, but until then, I’m looking out for her."

Molinson knew when to admit defeat. "Don’t do anything until we get there!" He ordered and then hung up.

Jim silently crept to the other side of the clubhouse where he had noticed that one of the two windows on that wall was open. He stealthily crept until he was underneath it and could hear everything that his vile stepfather was saying with his cigarette roughened voice.

"Do you know what it was like sitting in that cell for all of those years?" Jones was ranting. "You stuck your nose in where it didn’t belong and I’m the one who paid for it. All I wanted was what was owed to me. That property should have belonged to my wife, which meant it should have belonged to me. All I was doing was getting my share. A man has to make a living, you know, but you had to go and snoop and take it away from me.

"And why did I need the money from the sale of the marsh property to the furniture company? Because you were responsible for me not getting the inheritance that was by rights mine. I fed and clothed that lousy stepson of mine for years! Did he ever repay me? Did I ever get a cent from him? No! That old miser’s money should have gone to me, for my troubles. But you took that away from me too!

"And now it’s your turn to pay. You’ll pay for the money you cost me, for the years of my life you cost me, for the stepson that you cost me. Sure, it was no picnic having that smartmouthed redhead around, but at least I had someone who worked hard on my truck farm. And you know what else you’re going to pay for? It’s because of you that my nephew grew up with no father figure after his dad died. It’s because of you that he’s sitting in some police station in Hickville getting interrogated. I’m going to have so much fun with you, that by the time it’s over you’re going to be begging me to kill you."

Jones took a long look at the girl sitting before him. She was gagged, but there was something in her eyes he didn’t like. He stared at her and saw what Jim had, plus contempt, disdain, and scorn. That would not do, no that would not do at all. This girl was supposed to be down on her knees begging for his mercy, cowering in fear, and terrified out of her mind. His eyes narrowed and the evil temper that had been allowing itself to fester finally exploded. He directed it all at this arrogant girl. In a blind rage, he lifted his fist brought it down across her jaw.

Outside, Jim heard the sickening impact of the blow and realized what had happened. He crept to the other window and peered inside. He saw Trixie finally recover from the blow, her spirit not dampened in the least. He couldn’t see the expression on her face, but he saw from the way she held herself that she was determined to take whatever Jones was dishing out. This enraged Jonesy even more and this time he clasped both hands together and gave her a double-fisted uppercut.

Jim reacted purely on instinct at seeing this. The thoughts of the Hostage Rescue Team even now racing along Glen Road vacated his mind as he saw his beloved Trixie hurting at the hands of this hateful man. It had been bad enough when Jonesy had turned his rage on him; Jim would be damned if he allowed Jones to do it to Trixie. Jim came crashing through the window, not even mindful of the cuts he might have been inflicting upon himself. All that mattered was getting to Trixie before Jones could land another blow.

Startled by the noise, Jonesy froze. He recovered his wits at the same time Jim recovered his balance and they both dove for the gun laying on the table. They both missed and the gun went clattering to the ground near Trixie’s feet. Jonesy tried to land a punch at Jim, but Jim had much better reactions than the old man and easily dodged the incoming fist. Jim recovered and his fist connected with Jonesy’s jaw. Jones howled in rage and blindly grabbed at Jim. He managed to get his hands around Jim’s neck and squeezed. Trixie watched helplessly as Jim struggled to free himself from Jones’ grip. Jim was surprised at the man’s strength and then realized that Jonesy had had nothing to do for many years other than work out in anticipation of his revenge.

Trixie, in desperation, kicked the gun across the floor as a matter of distraction. It worked. Upon hearing the noise, Jones looked up and that’s all Jim needed to throw the older man off of him. Unfortunately, Jonesy landed near the gun and grabbed for it. Jim tried to pounce but it was too late. Jonesy already had the gun. He leveled it at Jim’s head with an evil chuckle.

Trixie jumped at the sound of a gun going off at close range. It took several seconds for her brain to register that it was Jones laying on the floor, red stickiness oozing from a clean gunshot wound to the head, and not Jim. Thank God, not Jim.

Then suddenly, Jim was standing before her, holding her. Grabbing her face with his hands and looking at her as though he would never be able to get enough of her. And he knew that he wouldn’t. He quickly undid her gag and the knots binding her hands and feet, completely oblivious to the members of the FBI team that were busy taking care of Jones and sending short, cryptic messages over secured radios.

When Trixie was free the two just stared at each other for several seconds.

"I love you." The two laughed together at their shared words.

Jim pulled Trixie into his arms and hugged her so tight that she couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t mind. After a long time he pulled away again and just stared at her.

"You have never looked this good to me, Trixie Belden," Jim said tenderly. "Not even at your graduation from Georgetown."

Trixie’s eyes widened as she realized the implication behind his words. "You were there?" She said, wonder and joy filling her voice.

"Of course I was there. I love you too much to have missed that."

Tears of happiness at Jim’s revelation and pure relief of being safe escaped from Trixie’s clear blue eyes. "Jim, I’ve been a fool…" she began, but Jim tenderly shushed her with a single finger laid upon her lips.

"We’ve both been fools. This may be a heck of a way to learn our lesson, but I think we’ve learned it. Haven’t we?"

Trixie stared into the green eyes, moist with unshed tears, and nodded. "I know I have. I love you, Jim, and I never want to lose you."

Jim looked tenderly at the woman he had loved for so long and knew he would love for an eternity. "I promise you, Trixie Belden, you will never lose me."

At that moment, Molinson burst through the door of the clubhouse. "I thought I told you not to do anything until the team got here!" He bellowed.

Trixie smiled up at Molinson. "Aren’t you glad to see me, Captain?"

Molinson dropped his pretense of anger and smiled warmly at the young girl who had been both a pain and a pleasure to know over the years. "Yes, I am." Then the smile vanished and once again the gruff exterior was in place. "There’s some people at your house you’d like to see you. Let’s get a move on!"

"Yes, sir!" Trixie stood and mocked saluted him. Her legs were stiff from being tied for so long, so Jim helped her to a nearby squad car to be driven to Crabapple Farm. No sooner had the squad car reached the end of the lane when a houseful of people ran out to greet Trixie. The young blond was carefully, and tenderly, passed from family member to friend and back again. Moms gasped at the sight of Trixie’s cheek, swollen and starting to turn purple, but she was too glad at having her daughter alive and in her arms to fret about it long. It could have been so much worse.

Honey grabbed her friend and hugged her hard. "I will never try matchmaking again," she said tongue-in-cheek, hoping to make Trixie laugh. Trixie obliged.

"You didn’t think you were going to get out of opening the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency with me that easily, did you?" Trixie returned. Honey’s eyes lit up and she hugged her friend even harder.

When it was Alex’s turn to hug Trixie he whispered into his ear, "I made a promise to a higher authority that if I got you back alive I’d quit pestering you to join the FBI." His eyes wandered to where Jim stood, watching Trixie with unmasked love in his eyes. "But I can see I would have lost anyway. I have a feeling you’ll be opening an agency around here."

Trixie laughed. "Thanks for understanding, Alex. And thanks for coming to my rescue."

Trixie looked at the group around her and had never felt more lucky to be surrounded by such a wonderful group of family and friends. Her clear blue eyes met Jim’s sparkling green ones and she knew the best was yet to come.

A couple more notes: Yes, Trixie’s jaw would most likely be broken but she never would have been able to have that romantic conversation with Jim, so I exercised dramatic license. And I also realized that Miss Trask and Regan probably would have hurried over to the house if Trixie was missing but I decided to leave them out as there were already lots of people there. Sorry if anyone missed them too much!

 

Epilogue: Happily Ever After

Saturday, the nineteenth of May, dawned brilliantly. Trixie awoke and smiled when she realized what day this was and rolled over to look at the other twin bed in her room, where Honey still slept.

"Good morning, Sleepyhead," Trixie called softly. Honey’s eyes fluttered awake and she, too, smiled upon remembering the importance of this day.

"Good morning," Honey returned.

"Are brides supposed to lounge the morning of their wedding, or do they get up and start bustling around?" Trixie asked.

Honey thought for a moment. "I think I’m going to be the kind of bride that lounges for a little bit. What about you?"

Trixie grinned. "I think I will be too."

For their last night as batchelorettes, Trixie and Honey had decided to have one last sleepover at Crabapple Farm. Honey, who had been living at Manor House, would be spending that night, her first night as a married woman, in Brian’s apartment in the city. They were still in the process of looking at houses in White Plains, near the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency, which had opened its doors three months before. Trixie, who had been living at Crabapple Farm for the last year, would spend her first night as a married woman in the lovely cottage at Ten Acres that Jim had finally confessed to building with her in mind.

"Can you believe we’re getting married today?" Trixie asked her dearest friend and soon-to-be double sister-in-law.

"It’s been a long time coming, Trix," Honey said softly. "Are you ready for today?"

Trixie thought for a moment. "I’m definitely ready for today. I can’t wait to stand up there at that altar next to Jim and vow to spend the rest of my life with him in front of all of my family and friends. That you and Brian will be standing next to me doing the same thing makes it doubly special. Or should I say, perfectly perfect?" She grinned at Honey.

Honey eyed her friend. "But you’re nervous about after aren’t you?"

Trixie drew in a deep breath. "Yeah, a little. It’s been so many years overdue that I think I’ve blown it way out of proportion in my head!"

"Don’t worry. I think it’s great that you waited for Jim. And so does he."

"But he’s experienced and I’m not – what if I make a mistake?"

Honey giggled. "Trix, you won’t make a mistake. Jim will be loving and tender and guide you through it. Trust me when I say that you’ll enjoy yourself."

Trixie was about to make a wicked comment about Honey and Brian when the door opened. Moms walked in carrying a breakfast tray, followed by Bobby with an identical tray.

"Good morning, my two lovely brides! I thought you would both enjoy breakfast in bed before the day starts to get hectic." She set the tray she was carrying down on Honey’s lap. "For my new daughter," she said, tenderness and tears in her eyes. Honey and Trixie’s eyes also immediately welled with tears. Bobby saw the reactions of the females and groaned. "Oh, brother, quit being so mushy!"

Mr. Belden came in amid the laughter. "What’s all the merriment going on in here? You’d think there was a wedding going to happen today or something!"

Trixie, filled with happiness, merely laughed. "Oh, Daddy!"

Later that day, Trixie and Honey, dressing in Honey’s bedroom at Manor House with the help of Miss Trask, Mrs. Belden, and Ella Kline, stood looking out over the Manor House garden, where guests were already beginning to be seated. Trixie laughed at the site of Kathy and Julie Lynch trailing after Bobby, obviously caught in the throes of a first crush. She saw Mart and Dan escorting guests to their seats, both looking handsome in their tuxes. The sun shone off of Mr. Wheeler’s bright red hair as he stood talking to Mr. Belden.

Just then Di’s voice rang out. "You’d better step away from that window, ladies, if you catch a glimpse of Jim or Brian it’s bad luck!"

Trixie and Honey turned to see their shared maid of honor entering the room with Hallie. Both looked gorgeous in their matching bridesmaids dresses. Although Di usually favored lilac and Hallie favored red, the brilliant blue satin of their dresses looked wonderful next to their black hair.

"Wow! You guys look great!" Honey exclaimed.

"Us?" Hallie hooted. "What about you? I have never seen two more beautiful brides."

Trixie blushed, feeling like Cinderella. She had to admit, Moms’ simple ivory silk shantung dress, with the sweetheart neckline, simple pearlesque beading, and long flowing skirt did make her feel like a fairy princess. Trixie thought back to her tomboy days and knew she had never dreamed of feeling like this.

Honey’s dress was more elaborate, but Trixie didn’t think it was anymore beautiful than Moms’ fairy tale dress. Honey’s dress was of pure white silk with a lace overlay. She wore layers of crinoline underneath the skirt and kept turning to check that she wasn’t dirtying her five-foot long train. Her neckline was cut in a deep V that displayed the centuries old Hart diamond necklace glittering brilliantly around her throat. Her "something old."

The four girls chattered happily as Miss Trask made a few last adjustments and pronounced the girls ready. She looked at her watch. "And just in time, too! Girls, we must be going. Diana, help me with Honey’s train. Trixie, can you manage the steps on your own?"

"I can, Miss Trask, thanks."

Mrs. Wheeler swept into the room just then. "Oh, Honey, my family’s jewelry looks so beautiful on you. You look wonderful, my dear," her normally smooth voice was choked with emotion as she gave her daughter a hug.

"Thank you, Mother," Honey replied, returning the hug.

Mrs. Wheeler released her daughter and turned to give Trixie a hug. "My other daughter, how beautiful you look."

Trixie blinked back tears. "Thank you so much."

Then it was Mrs. Belden’s turn to hug both girls and they were on their way through the house and down to the gardens.

The two brides stood behind a large flowering bush and peered around it at the guests assembled in the Manor House gardens. The pastor stood at the altar that Regan had painstakingly built, with Jim and Brian standing nervously in front of it.

Trixie and Honey smiled at the sight of the two handsome men waiting for them. Their hearts pounded in anticipation.

The organist started the wedding processional and the pretty Lynch twins started down the aisle throwing rose petals joyfully in the air. Bobby followed behind them, looking older than his fifteen years as he solemnly walked down the aisle. Hallie and Dan were next, followed by Mart and Di, both couples walking arm in arm. Mart and Diana were remembering their wedding of two years before and Hallie and Dan were toying with the idea of what ifs. Dan hadn’t asked Hallie to marry him, yet, but the thought had crossed his mind.

And then, suddenly, the bridal march was playing and it was Trixie’s turn. She looked up at her father. "Ready?"

"To give you away? Never. But I can happily place you next to Jim and tell you how much I love you and how happy I know you are going to be."

Trixie’s smile was breathtaking as she and her father walked down the aisle. Jim stared at the vision in ivory silk coming toward him and knew he had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life, nor would he ever. Peter Belden solemnly gave his beloved daughter's hand to Jim. "I know you’ll take care of her."

"On my honor, Sir." Jim turned to look at his bride, as Peter took his seat next Helen. "You look so beautiful." Trixie smiled in return and then the bridal march gave way to Pachebel’s Canon and everyone turned to see Honey starting down the aisle on the arm of her handsome redheaded father.

Brian’s heart was in his throat as he stared at the woman he was going to marry. What did he ever do to deserve such a wonderful woman? When Mr. Wheeler placed Honey’s hand in his, Brian told him, "It’s an honor to have the chance to take care of your daughter, Sir."

Mr. Wheeler smiled. "Her mother and I could not be happier at her choice for a husband." At that he took his seat between Helen and his wife in the front row.

Diana and Hallie looked on as both couples repeated their vows to each other and a sense of life coming full circle began to envelope them. Both girls looked across the altar at Mart and Dan, a sense of well being and peace filling them. All was right with the world.

Trixie loved the look of the gold band next to the diamond solitaire Jim had given her. When she looked over at Jim’s hand, at the thick gold band she had placed there herself, she felt an overwhelming sense of contentment.

Honey, upon hearing the words "You may kiss the bride," realized that she was now Honey Belden and threw her arms around Brian for a soul-melting kiss. Jim pulled Trixie in his arms and savored the feel of her sweet lips upon his.

The two couples were still kissing when the pastor said, "May I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Jim Frayne and Mr. and Mrs. Brian Belden."

Both couples looked toward their friends and family, who were applauding them, and smiled happily.

Honey and Brian started down the aisle under a shower of rose petals that the guests had been given to throw instead of rice. Trixie and Jim, laughing happily followed. Trixie, feeling like a princess out of a fairy tale, knew at that moment that happily ever could exist.

The End

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