Author's Note: Thanks to Beth for helping with the car and to Lynn for her invaluable medical information!! (As well as her usual stellar editing assistance.) Any and all errors should be attributable to me as they are simply my woefully inadequate attempt to assimilate the gobs of valuable information she was able to provide.

A note further about the following. I have it on good authority that a horse CAN do the jumps I describe. I also wish to make it clear that I in NO way condone underage drinking, or even drinking to excess. I wish to make it clear that the 'approvable' consumption of alcohol in this story is strictly by 'legal-age' characters and that the consequences of drinking - at any age - are serious enough to recommend moderation. As a writer, I have the power to punish characters for the bad things they do. Trust me. There ARE repercussions and these WILL be explored fully. I think this will become apparent as further chapters are revealed. Thank you. {End of Public Service Announcement.}

Many, many, many thanks to Lynn for all her expert medical knowledge and experience. Without her considerable help, this wouldn't make too much sense or be too probable. Any and all errors should be attributable to me as they are simply my woefully inadequate attempt to assimilate the gobs of valuable information she was able to provide. Oh, and once again I am reminded to mention that, in my world(s), Regan's eyes are blue. I just like them that way!

Chapter 3: Ugly Girl

Tuesday at Manor House

Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Ji-im! Happy birthday to you!

"Blow out your candles!" "Make a wish!" "Congratulations!"

Jim sucked in a deep breath and then blew as hard as he could at all eighteen candles. He was relieved to see them flicker and stay out, thankful the Wheelers did not believe in trick candles. Jonesy had believed in trick candles. Stop thinking of bad times! he told himself sternly. That's long over. Nothing but good times ahead.

Honey hugged him fiercely. "Happy birthday, big brother!" she whispered. "I hope you have many more with us."

He returned her smile. "I do, too." He glanced up. "Someone else want to cut this cake? I'm no good at straight lines."

His mother turned to Celia. "Would you go ahead and serve the cake? We'll take it in the drawing room while he opens his presents."

Celia nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I'll bring in coffee and tea for everyone, too."

"Milk, for me," Honey requested.

"Is it chocolate cake?" Jim asked. Celia nodded, so he said, "Milk for me, too."

Matthew Wheeler laughed. "I'll take milk, too. Nothing like milk for chocolate cake!" He ushered his children into the drawing room. "Come on, kids. If we hurry, we'll get there in time."

"Time for what?" Jim asked suspiciously.

"Time to see you open your presents, of course!" Matthew replied seriously.

Jim frowned. "But I can't open them until I get there, so how could you be late?"

Matthew's eyes lit up as if sharing a secret. "Ah-ha! That is the question!"

Honey giggled. "Daddy! You're being so silly!" To Jim, she said, "He used to be like this when I was little. Just grin and bear it. You know how he loves to put on a show."

In the drawing room, Ben asked, "Hey, Uncle Matt. Aren't we having cake tonight, too?"

Matthew drew himself up tall and boomed, "What's a birthday without cake?"

"Two cakes? Plus the Bob White one earlier?" Jim repeated weakly. "Isn't that excessive? I mean, even for this family?"

Matthew laughed. "It was Madeleine's idea."

His wife looked up from her perch on the smaller sofa. "What was my idea? Having three cakes?" She innocently glanced at each face in turn. "And what's wrong with plenty of cake? I like cake."

Honey grinned. "I do, too, Mother." She sat next to her on the sofa. "I want a BIG piece!"

Celia entered then, pushing a huge rolling cart stacked full with slices of chocolate birthday cake on fine china plates. She handed each person a plate and a small silver dessert fork. After pouring four glasses of milk and a cup of tea for Mrs. Wheeler, Celia left the family alone to celebrate.

After several minutes of silent confectionery delight, Matthew gulped his milk and stood. He rubbed his hands together. "Well, Jim? Ready for your first gift?"

Jim's eyes went wide. "My first gift?" He felt weak. There would be more than one? Somehow, he had been hoping to have a smaller birthday. He still hadn't gotten used to the Wheeler's typically lavish excess when it came to gift-giving.

Matthew gestured for Jim to stand and join him in the center of the room. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small envelope. "Here you go, son," he said. "It's from your mother and me. Go ahead, open it."

Jim took the envelope and felt its weight. He had a sneaking suspicion of the contents. "I don't know what to say."

"Open it first," Ben commented dryly. "Then try 'thank you'."

Jim shot Ben a look, but opened the envelope. He swallowed hard when he pulled out a folded sheet of paper and a heavy key. He kept the key in his hand and opened the paper, his eyes scanning it hurriedly, then reading it again word for word. "I don't believe it."

Matthew, a grin splitting his face, clapped Jim on the back. "Believe it, son! I had Tom drive it up front so you could see it." He gently pushed Jim toward the front bay window.

Jim felt himself stumble slightly, but he went to the window still clutching the paper and the key. There it was, outside in the sunshine and shade of the front driveway. A new car. His new car. A silver BMW Z3 Roadster 2.8. His new silver BMW Z3 Roadster 2.8. In his sweaty left hand was a title to a silver BMW Z3 Roadster 2.8 with his name on it. James Frayne, owner of a brand-new silver BMW Z3 Roadster 2.8. In his sweaty right hand was, he assumed, a key to that same silver BMW Z3 Roadster 2.8.

He felt weak.

"What do you think, son?" Matthew's voice was unmistakably proud. "Isn't she beautiful?"

Jim gulped and nodded. "Yes, sir. She sure is."

And it was. The most beautiful car Jim had ever seen. And it was his. All his. All $37000 of it. And that was just the base price. It cost another $37000 just to get it into the States. He remembered going to the dealership in March with Matthew, ostensibly to choose a car to give one of Wheeler Enterprises' lucky employees as a bonus. He remembered test driving a dark cherry red one. He remembered the feel of the leather steering wheel and the wood-knobbed gearshift. He remembered the incredible sound system. He turned to Matthew. "For me? Are you sure?"

"Why not?" Matthew replied. "Every young man should have a new car at eighteen." He grinned. "It's a Wheeler family tradition."

Ben nodded and joined them at the window. "That's right. I still have my first Beemer," he said. There was a pause, then he added, "You going to open the other presents now?"

"There's more?" Jim asked, still not moving.

"You bet!" Matthew laughed. "Your sister and cousin got you gifts, too."

Honey gave Jim twelve CDs of his favorite artists. "Because there's a CD player in the car," she told him.

"Uh-huh," was all Jim could say. "Thanks."

Ben's present was a monogrammed car cover. "You won't always get to park it in a garage," he said. "Particularly when you're at school."

"Right," Jim said. But somehow, the thought of driving a BMW around campus didn't thrill him. He already stuck out enough, thanks to his hair and that his history preceded him. Everyone already knew who he was. He concentrated on being gracious.

"Thanks, everyone," he said finally. "I'm just taken aback by the whole thing. A car!" He shook his head. "I'd have been happy with basic transportation. You know. A Honda or a Toyota or something. Something sensible."

Matthew frowned. "This is an excellent car. It has every conceivable safety feature. Security. Theft-resistant radio. Portable phone. Onboard computer. Jim," he said seriously. "This car will last you a long time. It's a sound investment in both your safety and your happiness. But if you hate it, well…" He shrugged. "I can take it back and we can get you a safe, sensible Honda or Toyota. If that's what you really want."

Jim thought of the beautiful car in the driveway, already paid for and already his. Then he thought of Basic Transportation. He thought of boxy four-door cars in sensible colors with factory-installed AM/FM radios and paying extra for getting a cassette player. He thought of cloth bucket seats and vinyl. He hated to sound like a snob, even in his private thoughts, but he hated vinyl. And he loved leather seats. Heated leather seats. The wind in his hair, a special girl by his side as he drove some amazingly windy road through a lush countryside, a picnic basket by her feet and a smile on both their faces.

"That's not what I want," Jim heard himself saying. "I already love this car."

Matthew smiled in relief. "Then it's settled! Why don't you take her out for a test spin before you have to get ready for your party?"

Jim finally looked at the key in his hand. He grinned, absurdly excited at the prospect of owning his own car. "I'll get my wallet."

*     *     *

That evening…

Naturally, Brian was the first to comment. "Tell me I'm not dreaming, Jim! Tell me that fantastic automobile out there is not your birthday present!"

Jim swallowed some fruit punch and nodded. "Yup," he said cheekily. "All mine!"

Clearly at a loss for words, Brian could only shake his head in amazement. "You are so lucky."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Jim said. He turned to lean against the edge of the recreation room sofa and observe the rest of the partygoers. They had started to arrive a half hour earlier, each of them dressed to impress and have fun. Since this party was dedicated to having fun, Jim asked that birthday gifts from his close friends be given to him at the small lunch time gathering before the family party.

The Beldens were the first to arrive, the boys in jeans and collared shirts, Trixie and Hallie in dresses. Jim had to admit that, while Trixie filled out her clothes exceedingly well, something about the sight of Hallie Belden in a tiny black lace mini-dress gave him pause.

Next through the door were Dan and Anne. Jim wasn't sure if they had intentionally arrived together, or if it were coincidence. Dan wore his customary black, Anne a flared skirt and blue V-necked blouse. By its brilliant sparkling, Jim suspected her jewelry was not of the costume variety. He wondered how Mr. Maypenny felt about his daughter owning expensive jewelry.

Jim had been pleased to see a crowd of old friends from high school. About a dozen or so, both male and female, had car pooled from town to celebrate with him. By the time Mart and Diana showed up, the dancing had begun.

The constant thrum-thrum-thrum, intermittent burst of laughter and occasional screech filled the wood-paneled recreation room to capacity. Most of the room had been cleared to allow for dancing. Lights had been carefully adjusted to illuminate only the refreshments, the lavatory and exit doors, and any conversation areas. Miss Trask had hired a DJ to keep the music hopping; she arranged for strobes and moving searchlights in red and blue and black to scan the pulsating crowd of dancers.

As in most clubs, people danced first with the people they knew best, then turned to dance with the person next to them. As a general unwritten rule, the girls danced with each other and in the center of the floor while the boys hovered along the periphery. Only a few couples danced exclusively with each other.

After a good half hour of dancing with whichever girl happened to stand in front of him, Jim retreated to the refreshment table in search of more punch. He saw Ben filling a pair of short plastic cups. They nodded to each other in casual greeting. "Having a good time?" Jim asked.

"Sure," Ben told him. "You been upstairs yet?"

Jim shook his head. 'Upstairs' was the adults' party. "Should I go?"

Ben laughed and shrugged. "Up to you, man," he said. "But I have a feeling there's going to be more than one hangover tomorrow morning!" He handed Jim the punch ladle and took the two filled cups and walked away. Jim began filling an empty cup.

"Hey, Birthday Boy!" a voice shouted in his ear.

Jim looked up to see Anne, a huge smile on her face. For a moment, he was distracted by the way the black lights made her ultra-white hair glow purple. "Hey, Anne. Want some punch?"

She shook her head. "I’m drinking diet soda," she said. "I tasted the punch. WAY too sweet for me."

He nodded. "Where's Dan?"

Anne looked around. "In the middle of that, I think," she said, pointing to a particularly thick crowd of dancers.

"Don't you dance?" Jim asked.

She looked at him and grinned. "Are you asking me to?"

He laughed. "Why not?" He took her half-full can of soda, set it on a bookshelf high on the wall behind them, and led her onto the dance floor. They put their arms around each other as the beat changed to a new song.

Across the floor and near the bathrooms, Hallie found her cousin. "Hey, Trixie," she said. "How's it going?"

"Pretty good so far!" Trixie smiled, pleased to see her cousin having a good time. She'd been worried about Hallie ever since the Idaho teen had stormed away from the lunch table on Sunday. Trixie had tried to talk to her about it, but had gotten only 'it's not important' in reply. Seeing Hallie with Dan yesterday hadn't helped Trixie feel any more hopeful about her cousin's happiness. She had tried to soften any emotional blow by sticking close to her cousin as much as possible, even going so far as to let Hallie determine what dress they each would wear for Jim's party and how much makeup to apply. She asked her, "How's it going with you?"

Hallie nodded toward the closed door with a 'Women Only' sign on it. "You in line?"

Trixie shook her head. "I'm waiting for Honey."

Hallie nodded again, then hesitated. "I saw Jim."

Trixie turned conspiratorial. "You did? At his own party?" She opened her mouth in shock. "How unusual!" Then she laughed at Hallie's impatience. "Go on," she said with a wave of her hand. "So you saw Jim. So what?"

"He's dancing!" Hallie hissed. Trixie waited for the first shoe to drop. Jim dancing at his own party was hardly revelatory. Hallie huffed and leaned closer. "With Anne!"

Trixie waited. Still no shoes had fallen. Finally, she asked, "That's it? Jim's dancing with Anne?" The bathroom door opened then and Honey came out.

"Hi, Hallie! How's it going?" she asked.

Hallie grabbed Honey's wrist and pulled the slender girl toward them. "Good! You're here," she said. "Now you can help me make Trixie understand how serious this is."

"What's serious?" Honey asked, her hazel eyes wide. She had twisted her hair into a bun and secured it with a pair of porcelain chopsticks. She touched her coif gently, then smoothed the patterned silk of her emerald green Chinese print mini-dress.

"Jim's dancing with Anne," Trixie said bluntly, knowing Hallie wanted to build up the announcement as much as possible.

Cautiously, Honey looked to Hallie. "So?" she said finally.

Hallie's lips pressed together, threatening the perfection of her lipstick application. "He should be dancing with Trixie!"

Trixie rolled her eyes. Honey looked to her shoes. Hallie stared hard at Honey as if willing her to feel as much indignation as she did herself. It didn't work. Honey started to chuckle. "I'm sorry, Hallie," she said. "But I don’t see how that's a big shocker. I just don't. Jim likes to dance. He'll dance with just about anyone. You want him to dance with you? I don't mind asking him for you."

Trixie couldn't help it. She began to laugh, too. "You're such a nice person, Honey," she said finally.

Hallie, however, did not laugh. "I don't think this is very funny," she said, glaring at each girl in turn.

"What's wrong with Anne?" Honey asked. "Why shouldn't Jim dance with her?"

"Oh, forget it!" Hallie said, turning and walking away.

"What'd I say?" Honey looked bewildered.

Trixie said thoughtfully, "I'm not sure, but I think Hallie's just got Anne on the brain. You know, cause of Dan."

"Oh!" Realization dawned in Honey's eyes. "I don’t know why that didn't occur to me earlier. Did Hallie say something to you?"

Briefly, Trixie filled in her friend on all that had happened since Hallie's arrival. "I would have told you before now, but with one thing and another, and especially because I tried to keep Hallie too busy to think too much, I didn't have a chance."

Honey nodded. "Do you think we should do something about it?"

Trixie shrugged. "What can we do except be there for Hallie? Her heart's been smashed open."

"Sounds like it was her own fault, though," Honey said wisely.

"Maybe," Trixie agreed. "Probably." She sighed. "I'm just not sure what I should do about it. I'm not real good at this emotional stuff. If Anne had stolen Hallie's purse or something, then I think I'd be more useful."

They stood in relative silence for several moments. Honey moved to stand next to her friend and from their vantage point, they could clearly see the dance floor and the party.

In the far corner, Cap held court with some of the more serious-minded of Jim's friends from high school. Trixie thought she could see Cap's lips make the words 'spotted owl'. One of Jim's more attractive friends from high school had cornered Knut near the DJ. She was showing him some CD cases and indicating particular songs. Diana sat on Mart's lap and spoke animatedly to two members of the Third Hand Gang, who had arrived at some point in the past fifteen minutes. Brian disappeared into the men's room.

On the dance floor, Dan had joined up with Anne and was teaching her to salsa. Nearby, Jim stood with another group of dancers, all paired up and following Dan's instructions. Honey leaned close to Trixie's ear. "And to think, two years ago he didn't know a step."

Trixie chuckled. "That was a lie. Afterward, he told me the surest way to get a girl to dance with you for a long time was to ask her to teach you how."

The Latin song ended and the crowd started shouting for the DJ to replay it. Seconds later, Ricky Martin's 'Maria' filled the room. As Trixie and Honey felt the infectious rhythm take over, they saw Ben lead Hallie onto the floor.

"See that?" Trixie nudged Honey. "A door closes, a door opens."

Honey smiled. "Nice how things work out."

*     *     *

Upstairs, the older adults were having their own celebration. While on a quieter and less frenetic scale than their children's, it nevertheless was as boisterous and as entertaining.

The recreation room had long since been sound-proofed, so only snatches of music and noise could be heard as servants went below to refill the refreshment table, or kids tramped upstairs for a variety of purposes. Upstairs, Madeleine Wheeler played requests and 'Name That Tune' on the grand piano. Helen Belden and Micah Maypenny stood near the open French doors, deep in discussion. Elayne Lynch and her husband gossiped with Mrs. Vanderpoel and the Hartmans. Peter found Matthew near the refreshment table.

"Great party, Matt," Peter said. He popped a few cheese puffs into his mouth before accepting his drink from the bartender.

"Thanks, Peter," Matthew said. "But it's all my wife's and Miss Trask's doing. I just sign for it."

They stood in companionable silence for a long moment until Peter asked, "You think the kids are all right downstairs?"

"Sure," Matthew said. "Celia goes down to check on things every now and then. She'd let us know if anything were amiss."

"I suppose," Peter said. "I'm not used to letting my kids go to unchaperoned parties." He thought for a moment, then amended his statement. "I mean, of course, Brian can do as he pleases at college. And Cap and Knut are certainly old enough to take responsibility for themselves. And Mart's always been rather level-headed, despite himself."

Matthew started to grin. "So it's your daughter you're worried about?"

Peter laughed. "I guess so. Don't you worry about Honey more than Jim?"

"Well, yeah," Matthew admitted. "But I'm not sure that isn't just because I've had more experience worrying about her. I'd hate to think I was being sexist about it."

"I know what you mean, though," Peter said. "Whenever the kids would all go on one of their trips, I'd worry more about Trixie than the boys."

Matthew looked dubious. "I'm not sure that's not called for, though. In Trixie's case, that is."

"Are you trying to say my daughter needs more looking after than the average teenage girl?"

"I'm not 'trying' to say anything of the sort," Matthew replied. "I'm saying it outright."

Peter stared at his friend and neighbor. Then he started to laugh. He toasted Matthew with his short glass of 7&7. "You got me," he said. "I’m raising a hellion."

Matthew's sharp bark of laughter drew his wife's startled attention. She called from the piano across the room, "What's so funny, dear? Tell me!"

He shook his head. "Peter and I were just comparing offspring."

Madeleine grew very still. "Oh!" she said. "I see." Then she turned to the collection of people around the piano and shrugged as if to say, 'I don't know who he is, either'.

"Play another one, Madeleine!" her guests urged, and she returned her attention to the keys.

Peter turned serious and caught Matthew's attention. "There's something that's occurred to me recently."

Matthew caught the bartender's attention and ordered another round. "What's that?" he asked Peter.

"Our kids go places together all the time, right?"

"Yeah," Matthew nodded. "So?"

"Well," Peter said slowly. "Why don't we?"

"You and me?"

"No!" Peter laughed. "All of us. Ed and Elayne, you and Madeleine, me and Helen. Why don't we ever go somewhere together? Why do our kids always have all the fun?"

Matthew looked up to see his nephew, Ben, handing him a fresh glass of scotch. "Thanks, Ben," he said. He pointed to the glass in Ben's hand. "And what are you having?"

Ben grinned. "Since turning twenty-one, Uncle Matt," he said, "I've developed a taste for Lemon Drops." He lifted his glass. "This is the vodka."

Peter felt his lips twist. "Yuck!" he said. "I deplore vodka." He glanced at Matthew. "Once when I was in college, back when you could drink at eighteen, I got sick off a fifth of vodka." He shuddered eloquently. "It didn't have a taste going down, but it sure did coming back up!"

Ben laughed. "Come on, Mr. Belden! You're not supposed to drink it straight."

Matthew laughed with them. "Go on back downstairs, Ben," he said. "But drink your vodka first, okay? I don’t want any alcohol down there at all."

"I got it," Ben said and he lifted his glass in a salute. "See you guys later."

Peter watched him leave, then mused, "You know, Trixie once had a crush on Ben."

Matthew frowned. "I thought that was just a ruse on her part?"

Peter shook his head. "Helen thinks it was real. She said something about how girls pretend to have crushes so they can test out the idea. Or something like that. She says it explains why pre-teen girls go gaga over these all-boy groups like Back Street Boys and the like." He dismissed the idea. "I think my girl's too sensible for that nonsense, though."

Matthew's frown remained. "That's interesting. Madeleine told me that Honey put up a poster of Noah Wylie on her wall. You know, that kid on ER?"

"You're kidding!" Peter sipped again at his drink. "That's very interesting."

*     *     *

"And it's one, two-and-three, one, two-and-three," Dan was saying. "That's it, Anne. Get those hips moving!" He guided her hips into a fast swish, helping her loosen her spine in order to dance to the energetic beat.

Anne concentrated. She felt the rhythm of the music, she felt the floor under her feet, she felt Dan's hands on her hips, resting just below the waistband of her skirt, she felt Dan's shoulders beneath her own hands. She tried her best to forget everything but the pattern of the dance and the feeling of the music.

The lights turned and shifted around her. People were moving, their bodies jerking and swaying, their voices laughing and calling. She was silent in a sea of noise and confusion, but she felt the music and it filled her spirit.

"You got it, Anne," Dan laughed. "Now just forget everything and dance!"

Anne focused on his handsome face, his rapt expression and his dark, dark eyes. She felt herself smile. She moved her hand upward on his shoulder, hoping she wasn't being obvious by touching his neck with the tip of one finger. It had happened.

They were dancing together.

Then she stepped on his foot.

"Ow!" he said suddenly. He held her away from him for a moment. "Don't forget the steps," he reminded her.

"Sorry," she said, extremely contrite. She was usually a fairly decent dancer, she thought. At least, she'd long ago mastered the basic ballroom dances like the Foxtrot, Waltz, Tango and Cha-Cha. It was the more common and free-formed street dances that she needed help with, hence her salsa lesson with Dan. She couldn't remember being so happy dancing with her other instructors, however.

Next to Dan and Anne, Jim had begun to teach Trixie to salsa. Jim wasn't having much better luck. "Come on, Trixie," he said, not for the first time. "You've got to learn to let me lead!"

"But, Jim!" she protested. "You're not turning when I want you to!"

"That's too bad," he insisted. "This is a partner dance. That means you only turn when I tell you to. Not before and not after."

"Can't I lead for once?"

"No."

Trixie, stunned mute for a moment, simply stood still. When Jim stopped moving, she asked, "Why not?"

He glanced away from her, clearly debating what to tell her. Finally, he met her eyes directly. "I don't know how to follow."

Trixie started to giggle, then she started to laugh. "Okay," she agreed. "I promise. No turning until you tell me to turn!"

"Promises, promises," Jim muttered, but he moved her into position and returned to the dance.

Over his shoulder, Trixie saw Ben behind the refreshment table with Hallie. They were talking with their heads close together. Trixie smiled. Underneath his practical-joking exterior, Ben was really a nice guy. At least, that's what Diana said, and she had spent more time alone with Ben than anyone. In fact, I'll bet that if Mart hadn't spoken up when he did, Diana would have started dating Ben.

At that moment, however, the girl in question was more than happily snuggling on one of the couches with the boy who had learned to speak up. "Mart?" Diana asked between idle kisses.

"Yeah, Di?"

"Will we always be so happy?"

"Indubitably," he replied.

"Good!" She kissed him again.

He pulled away. "Why?"

She grinned devilishly at him. "Just checking."

Several feet away, Knut elbowed Brian. "Look at those two," he said. "Disgusting."

"Eh." Brian returned the elbow. "You get used to it."

"You and Honey getting anywhere yet?"

The answer was short and quick. "Nope."

Knut hesitated, then asked, "Why not? Her father scare you off or something?"

Brian shook his head. "Nothing like that. But she's had finals to worry about the last few weeks. You know. Class projects and term papers due. I've been away." He shrugged. "It's hard to start something when you don't live in the same town."

"Oh, cousin," Knut sighed. "I do know what you mean!" Knut then told Brian all about the previous summer he, Cap and Hallie had spent at their Uncle Andrew's cabin in the Ozarks. "Since Mr. Moore was there, Mom and Dad figured we didn't need much else in the way of constant supervision, so we were pretty much left on our own."

Brian nodded. "Besides, all the mysteries had been solved."

Knut grinned. "You have no idea how much that burned Hallie's bacon. She traipsed up and down that forest until she knew every inch of it and found nothing. Not one thing that could remotely pass as mysterious. Cap, of course, had a blast. He learned all about spelunking. Had a great time."

"And you?" Brian asked. "What did you do all that time?" He watched his older cousin start to blush. "Come on, tell me!"

"Well," he hedged. "You've met her. You know."

"Linnie?"

Knut shrugged. "She's a real nice girl. Real nice, you know?."

Brian considered it, then pointed out, "She's what, fifteen?"

"Sixteen. I'm not marrying her," Knut declared. "I'm just… interested. There's something about her I like." He pointed across the room to Honey, dancing with someone he didn't know. "Isn't there something about Honey you can't put your finger on? Something you just respond to?"

Brian watched Honey, her hands on Marvin Easton's shoulders, smiling up into Marvin's face, laughing at Marvin's jokes, and he hurt a little inside. "There sure is," he admitted.

Knut pushed at Brian's shoulder. "You live in the same town now. What's stopping you?"

Brian turned to face him. "It's not that easy. You watch. I'll set up a date with Honey and next thing you know, it's a Bob White event. I asked her to the movies last February. You know what happened? We inducted Anne into the club so Trixie suggested we make it a club event. Everyone went."

"You're kidding."

Brian shook his head. "Hardly. You have any idea how hard it is to get personal time with someone when she's surrounded by her girl friends?"

Knut whistled a soft note. "And one of them's your sister, too. Ouch." He noted Brian's misery. "Tell you what. I'll do what I can to make sure you get some face time with Honey. It's the least a guy can do for his favorite cousin."

Brian smiled. "Thanks, Knut. I won't take advantage of you, either. Right now, all I want is one date. Just one."

"Leave everything to me," he grinned.

*     *     *

"I’m sorry, Helen! I just realized I have been monopolizing your time. You came here to have fun and here I've been, jabbering on about my troubles. I apologize."

Helen sighed. It wasn't that Micah Maypenny didn't have problems and it wasn't that she minded listening to them. The problem was she wasn’t sure how to help him. "It's okay, Micah. Sometimes, you just need to share your thoughts with someone who can give an objective opinion."

He nodded. "Regan suggested I go to you for advice. Seeing as how you were Katrina's best friend here, it makes a kind of sense." The older man wore a surprisingly fashionable dress shirt and slacks. To Helen's eye, he looked much younger than normal, if a bit out of place amid the Wheeler furniture.

She smiled kindly. "It doesn't hurt that I'm in the middle of raising Trixie."

His eyes crinkled. "No, I guess it doesn't hurt."

Helen placed her palm on Micah's wrinkled hand. "What does her therapist say about any of it?"

Micah's gray eyes turned troubled. "That it may get worse before it gets better. That she may never learn to trust me. At the very least, it'll take a great deal more time." He sighed heavily. "To give her 'space' and let her alone from time to time." He cast a speculative glance at Helen. "Did I tell you I caught her sleepwalking?"

"No!" Helen was shocked. Living in the middle of the woods, woods with which Anne had no real familiarity or experience, sleepwalking could prove to be dangerous. Helen's maternal instinct was already kicking into gear, imagining a sleeping Anne wandering past 'DANGER' signs or onto the highway.

Micah nodded. "I woke up one night to what sounded like someone knocking on the front door. I got up, but it was Anne trying to get out the front door, only she was about two feet too far to the left. The therapist suggested Anne is trying to escape her life. Her mind escapes through dreams and she takes her body along for company."

Gently, Helen brought up the recent surgery.

"Oh, the doctors say she's healing well and that everything seems to be in order." Micah grimaced. "But they didn't accomplish everything they wanted. Anne's blood sugar level isn't being regulated as well as it should be. Apparently, David's tissues are trying their best, but Anne's diabetes is too strong."

"She's a fighter," Helen teased. "Just like her mother."

He nodded. "I've signed myself up for organ donation, you know." To answer Helen's unspoken question, he added, "When I die, Anne will automatically get my kidneys."

Helen felt tears in her eyes. "That's a wonderful gift, Micah, but I don't want to talk about you dying."

"I'm not looking forward to the prospect, myself!" He grinned, then turned philosophical. "But if it helps my little girl…"

*     *     *

On the dance floor, Brian had finally partnered himself with Honey. He swayed back and forth to the sound of some sappy, utterly forgettable tune, his cheek pressed to hers, his heart thudding in his chest, his eyes closed to the sight of the room and the people surrounding him. He breathed in her perfume and considered what she might do if he were to kiss the soft skin just below her earlobe.

Cuddled close to Brian, Honey tried to remember a moment in her life when she'd felt more safe or more protected or more thrilled, and failed. She was tall enough to tuck her head in the hollow between his neck and shoulder. She felt his muscle flex beneath her cheek, his arms gently surrounding her. She breathed in his cologne and wondered if he would ever kiss her.

"They make a nice couple, don't you think?" Trixie asked Jim. They sat together on chairs on the outside edge of the dance floor, sharing a selection of snacks and two cups of punch.

He nodded. "I guess so. Honey's a great girl. Brian could do worse."

Trixie stared at Jim. "So could Honey, you know."

"Yeah, yeah," Jim nodded. "I mean that, too."

Trixie returned to her task of selecting the cashews from the small bowl of mixed nuts on the table beside them. "So. You still majoring in business, right?"

Confused by the sudden change in conversation, Jim nodded. "And psychology, but that's just as an undergrad. Why?"

"Just wondering," she said. Privately, she thought Jim was doing his usual, spread-himself-too-thin thing. "You've made a lot of friends at school, huh." Idly, she let her gaze drift over the party. She saw her cousin Cap, still arguing with one of the guys from the high school. She saw Knut talking to Mart and Di. She saw Ben handing Anne a can of diet soda. She saw Dan avoiding Hallie's eyes.

"A few," Jim replied, bringing her attention back to their erratic discussion. "What's this all about, Trix?"

"Nothing," she lied. "Just curious." She wished she had the right or the gumption to ask him flat out if he had found anyone in particular while at college. She supposed she didn't have any right to his fidelity. They hadn't ever even been on a real date. She wished she knew for certain if he cared at all about her. She wished she knew for certain how she really felt about him.

'If you are meant to be,' Diana said once, 'then you won't be able to avoid it. It'll happen whether you plan for it or not.'

I'm not sure that comforts me, Trixie thought. What if I'm able to avoid it? Even her own mother had suggested in the nicest way possible that Trixie had a bit of a problem with hero-worship.

'You see Jim as a can-do-it-all kind of boy,' she had told her. 'That kind of boy is very exciting to a young girl who's just figuring out what she can do for herself. But I want you to be sure he's what you want and not what you think will make your father and I happy or will impress us. You also need to be sure you're not just taking the first boy who comes along. I want you to be sure there isn't anyone else out there who might make you happier or might be better for you in the long run.'

The long run, Trixie thought. I'm just sixteen years old. Should I be thinking of the long run now? Still, it would be so nice if we all just settled down together. Our kids could play together. We could visit every day.

Unbidden, the theme song of 'Leave It to Beaver' started playing in her head. She tried to imagine a future world where all the Bob Whites married each other and lived on Glen Road. But who would live at Crabapple Farm?

"Penny for your thoughts?" Jim asked.

"Huh?" Trixie flushed. "Oh. They're not worth it." She dug through the bowl of mixed nuts, found a cashew, and popped it in her mouth.

"You want to dance some more?" he asked.

She thought about it for two seconds. "Sure!"

*     *     *

Anne frowned at her soda. "Must be flat," she murmured. She drank it anyway. She was having too much fun to go upstairs and hunt down a cold soda, and tossing a full can was a waste. She heard the lonely sound of a pennywhistle and turned to Dan. "It's that Titanic song!" she said. "I love this song. Dance with me, please?"

Dan grinned. "Sure." He led her past Ben and Hallie onto the floor. Once there, Anne wrapped herself around his body and hummed along with Celine Dion.

"Disgusting, isn't it," Hallie said.

"Oh, I don't know," Ben replied easily. "Depends on who the guy is." He looked down at Hallie. "If it were me out there with her, it wouldn't be so bad. In fact, it'd be downright near to perfect."

She frowned. "I don’t get what guys see in her. Is it the sob story? Is that it?" She touched her throat in emphasis. "Cause I can make one up."

"Guys like to feel needed," Ben explained.

"That makes no sense. You think Anne needs you?"

Ben grinned. "Sure she does. Only trouble is, she doesn't know it yet."

Hallie couldn't fathom it. "What does she need you for?"

"To take her away from all this." He turned to face Hallie. "Anne's used to a much higher standard of living, you know. I've seen that old cabin she's forced to call home. It's a hovel. The guy only put in electricity a few years ago, so I heard."

"So?" Hallie asked bluntly. "That's what she was born into."

"But it's not what she deserves," he insisted. "She was raised into as much wealth as the Wheelers. Or the Rikers," he grinned. "She shouldn't be stuck living in some backwater shack with Pa Kettle."

"Who?"

"Never mind." He took a sip from a glass of clear liquid.

"What is that?" Hallie asked, meaning the drink.

"Water."

"Oh," she said. "I was hoping it was vodka."

He laughed, surprised. "You don't drink!"

"No," she admitted. "But I'm thinking of starting."

"Cheer up, kid," he said. "Life isn't that bad. Things have a way of turning out for the best. You'll see." He took another swallow. "Besides," he grinned. "That vodka's all gone."

*     *     *

The party roared onward. Eventually, most of the people from town left to go home. The core Bob Whites and their immediate relatives were all that remained in the rec room. Miss Trask paid off the DJ and he left, allowing the gang to listen to CDs of their own choosing and the radio. Brian and Honey sat next to each other on the sofa. They held hands and chatted amiably with Mart and Diana. Jim and Trixie set up a Jenga tower on the sturdy card table where Cap and Knut geared up for the challenge. Hallie sat in a wing chair by herself, her eyes narrowed and her expression inward. Still on the dance floor, Anne leaned against Dan.

Softly, Dan asked her, "Aren't you tired yet?"

"Mmm-mmm," she sighed, her eyes half closing. "I could've dannnnn-ced all niiiiight! I could have daaannnn-ced all night!" She giggled, then raised her head from his shoulder. "Sorry. I don't have the world's best singing voice."

He smiled. "I don't mind."

She frowned. "Play that Spanish song again."

"Which one?"

"The salasa one." She grinned. "I want to dance."

Trixie looked up as Dan turned off the radio. Seeing the CD case in his hand, she called out, "Not that song again!"

Dan shot her an apologetic look. "She wants to hear it again. What can I say?"

Trixie didn't know either, so she merely smiled and then returned to the Jenga tower. She was good at the game, and had played it often with Jim, so it didn't surprise her that one of her cousins was the first to make the tower fall. Stretching her spine, she laughed. "Your turn to set it up, Cap!" She spied Hallie sitting by herself and she called to her cousin. "Come play with us. The more the merrier!"

Hallie thought about it, then agreed. She walked directly across the dance floor while Dan and Anne were dancing. Anne spun, purposely twisting her hips so that her skirt flared out, and accidentally swung her arm into Hallie's stomach.

"Watch it!" Hallie snapped.

"S-sorry!" Anne giggled. Stumbling a bit on her heels, she moved back into position. She wiped at her forehead, then examined her fingers for signs of makeup smudge. "Hm," she said softly. "It's really hot in here."

"The air will feel cooler, now that everyone's mostly left," Dan said. He looked carefully at her face. "You do look kind of flushed, though. You feeling all right?"

"I'm fine!" she gushed, and leaned forward against him. She frowned. "I think I'm over-danced, though. My feet don’t seem to want to move but my hips still want to Salsa!" She laughed, tossing her head and lifting her hair from the back of her neck. She lost her balance briefly and then recovered it. She laid a hand on Dan's cheek. "You were sweet to teach me."

"You're a good student," he said softly, but the warmth in his tone didn't quite reach his eyes. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

Anne guided Dan's forehead to rest on her own. She stared at him almost eyelash to eyelash. "I feel great! I'm relaxed, I'm happy and I'm having a wonderful time with a really wonderful guy. I don’t want this night to end."

His lips were so close to hers, Anne realized. All I have to do is-

Dan did it for her. He moved his head slightly and then his lips met hers. They started moving again to the rhythm, stepping with every other beat, as his lips explored hers. When he finally pulled away from her, he breathed, "Oh, boy."

She felt her heart race and the world tilt. She clung to his shoulders and then wrapped her arms tight around him. She felt his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She felt the incredible heat from his body, like they had slipped a thermal blanket between them. She needed to cool down. She pulled away from him. "I need some air," she said.

Dan nodded. "I need to use the bathroom," he said. "Meet you outside on the porch?"

She smiled. "That sounds good."

Dan touched her cheek, then left. Anne focused on the short steps that led to the hallway that went outside. I just have to get to the steps, she told herself. How hard can this be? A song from an old Christmas special, was it Rudolph? went through her mind. She hummed, you just put one foot in front of the other… By the time she made it up the stairs, she was feeling both better and worse. She hadn't found any cooler air, but she had made it across the floor without falling.

*     *     *

Ben sat on the back porch of Manor House and stared at the night sky and the dark woods. Why do I do these things? he wondered. It's not like any good ever really come from it. It's not like this ever really works.

He finished off the last of his vodka and sucked his final wedge of lemon hard before tossing it into the dark bushes. He contemplated tossing the glass, too, just to hear it break, when the door behind him opened. He turned, surprised and pleased to see Anne Maypenny slip outside.

She looked up and saw him. He nodded to her. "What's up?" he asked. "Is the party still going on?"

She nodded and moved to stand near him. "Just came for some air."

They remained quiet for a few minutes. "So. You like living here?" he finally asked.

"Sure," she said. "As much as I like living anywhere."

"You miss the life you had?"

"I had no life," she smirked. "Tonight, I lived. I feel like I've been born, you know? Just today. Just tonight."

He stood and moved next to her. "I know how you feel," he said. "Always searching for that new sensation, that new experience. Something to make it all seem worthwhile." Anne nodded, so he continued. "I'll bet that gang in there doesn't understand you."

"They don't," she said softly.

"And they never will." He moved to stand behind her and laid his hands on her shoulders. "They don't know what it's like to have everything and then have nothing at all."

"Huh. And you do?"

"Uh-huh," he said. "My parents divorced when I was eight. I hardly see my dad, much less my mom. She sent me to boarding schools and summer camps. She never wanted to have anything to do with me."

"And your dad?"

Ben took a deep breath. He massaged Anne's shoulders a moment before answering. "My dad I see maybe once or twice a year. It depends on what his new wife's plans are for their kids. They don't go to boarding school, you see."

"That's sad," she said. "That's really sad." She brushed at her eyes.

Ben thought it was sad, too, but the corner of his mouth lifted. "I guess I've grown up lonely," he said. "Longing for some attention. Someone to love me."

Anne turned to face him. "Don’t you have anyone in your life like that now?"

Ben kept his expression as woeful as he could. "No," he said softly. "At least…" He bent his neck and closed his eyes and leaned and leaned and leaned… He opened his eyes. Anne was leaning just as far in the other direction.

"Don't be gross, Ben," she said. Still leaning backward, relying on Ben's grip to keep her upright, she stared upside down at the woods beyond the house. "I want to go flying!" she said. She pulled away from him, turned and stumbled down the steps into the yard.

"What the-?" he asked himself, then followed after her.

*     *     *

When Dan came out of the bathroom, Mart called to him to join the group on the sofas. "We're making plans for the week," he said. "Come, good sir, and give us the benefit of your expertise."

Dan thought about Anne, up on the porch by herself. How much trouble could she get in? The parents are right there in the music room and this IS Sleepyside. She'll be fine. "Sure," he said aloud. "What's the question?"

*     *     *

Anne found she liked making Ben chase after her. He was so clearly irritated with her, but for some reason, he wasn't acting like it. Instead, he was acting like they were having fun. Finally, she stopped running and let him catch her. He grabbed her hard around the waist and lifted her.

"Got you!" he said.

"Good for you," she said. "Now let me go."

"Not until I claim my prize," he said. "Don't you know how the game is played?"

"Wha' game?" she asked. "I'm not playin' any games with you!" She struggled to free herself, but to no avail.

Panting heavily from his exertion, Ben leaned his head against her sweaty cheek. "Yes, you are. I chased you and I caught you, fair and square. You owe me for your release."

"I owe you! Ha!" she laughed. "Let me go. I can't breathe." He didn't let go, so she threatened, "Let me go or I'll scream!" She pushed harder at him.

He let her go. Anne stumbled a bit as she regained her footing, but she turned and faced him. "HA! That got you. I'll have to rememember that. Ben don't like screaming."

"Oh," he said, "I wouldn't say that exactly." He grinned as the meaning became clear.

"Ben! You bad boy!" She clapped her hands over her mouth and laughed, doubling over with the exertion.

He shrugged. "I thought you liked bad boys. Am I wrong?"

She nodded, then shook her head. "Yes. No. I don't like you."

"Well," he said, "It doesn't matter because I caught you and now you owe me a kiss."

"Yuck!" she said and bent over again, laughing hard. "Pick something else."

"What?" he asked in mock shock. "You'd rather do something else than kiss me?" He laid a hand on his heart. "Am I so horribly ugly?"

Anne regarded him. "No. You're very preppy."

"Then…?"

"I don't like preppy. Pick something else."

Ben ran a hand through his hair as he looked around the oversized back yard of Manor House. His eyes fell on the stable. "I'll bet you something."

"Okay." She waited.

He grinned. "This'll get you. I know how Regan is about unauthorized riding."

"Oh," she groaned. "He hates it when horses are taken without permission. Once he laid into Jim so bad for taking out Jupiter."

"Yeah?" Ben's eyes grew more thoughtful. "You don't ride Jupiter, do you. I seem to remember something about that."

She shook her head. "No. Regan doesn't let me. Says I can't handle it. But I can! I know I can."

Ben grinned. "Now you'll get your chance. Ride Jupiter or kiss me. That's your choice." He puckered like a fish and made kissing noises. "Come on, Annie. Make your choice."

Anne realized that, if there was one thing she hated, it was being called 'Annie'. It made her feel like an orphan and she felt enough like one already.

She looked at the stable and then at Ben's pucker. "Deal," she said. "I'll saddle Jupiter."

*     *     *

Anne couldn't figure out why saddling Jupiter was so difficult, but it was. For a full minute, she couldn't remember if the bridle went on before the saddle or after. Then when she adjusted the stirrups, she automatically set them for Regan's preferred length. "Idjit," she told herself, and set the stirrups shorter.

Finishing up, she led Jupiter outside where Ben waited. "All's clear," he said.

"Course it is," she said. "Help me get up. Jupiter's big."

Ben grinned. With a hand on her butt, 'accidentally' under her skirt, he pushed her into the saddle.

Getting her bearings, Anne sat on Jupiter's back and surveyed her world. "Wow," she breathed. "It's tall up here."

"What are you going to do?" Ben asked.

"Huh?"

He gestured. "Ride? Where are you going to ride this beastie?"

"I don't know," she said. "Sugghestions?"

Ben looked around. "Is Jupiter a racehorse or what?"

"Huh?"

"What does Jupiter do?" Taking hold of the bridle, he explained. "Is Jupiter a hunter, a runner or a jumper?"

"Oh!" She thought about it. "A jumper, I think."

"So jump something."

"What?"

Ben pointed to the driveway where it ended in front of the garage. "Jump Jim's new car."

She squinted. "That tiny thing? Piece of cake." She touched her heels to Jupiter's flanks and they took off toward the tiny, brand new, silver BMW Z3 Roadster 2.8.

*     *     *

"No, Maypenny's letting me off easy this summer," Dan said. "He only wants me working 30 hours a week, no more. So Uncle Bill and I are going to Lake Erie to do some sailing at the end of July."

"That's wonderful!" Honey exclaimed. "I'm so glad."

"Is Joan going, too?" Brian wondered.

Dan nodded. "Yeah, but only for part of the week. She's got relatives in Buffalo, as it turns out, so she'll be staying with them for a few days."

"So it'll just be you and Regan?" Mart asked. "Dag-nabbit, but that has the potential for supreme enjoyment. Two guys out of town and ready for action."

The others laughed and repeated, "Dag-nabbit?"

Mart fought a blush. "I heard it on the TV and it sounded funny."

*     *     *

When Jupiter's hooves hit the ground, Anne let out a short whoop! She believed Jupiter could do it, that was never in doubt. What concerned her briefly was the moment before take off, when she had slid in her seat. But her sweaty skin seemed to have sealed itself to the leather saddle, so she was fine. She remained in place and she landed the jump correctly. Well, in one piece.

Ben rushed up to her. "That was great!" he said. "I didn't think you could do it."

"Of course I could! Jupiter can jump anything."

He laughed. "He can't jump my Land Cruiser!"

"Course he can!"

"No, no," he said. "It's a Land Cruiser. It's huge. Don't try."

"Just show me where it is," she vowed. "Jupe and I'll jump it with room to spare."

"You're crazy!" he said and pointed to the Toyota luxury SUV. "It's that thing over there. You'll never make it."

She sneered. "You ever see a jumping competition? A steeplechase? Those horses aren't any better than this one and they jump things like that all the time." She looked down at him. "Get out of the way."

Ben stepped aside.

Anne turned Jupiter around and backed him farther from the Cruiser. When she turned him again, she nearly slipped off his back, but her thighs reflexively tightened. The sweat was still working for her. Jupiter moved restlessly beneath her. She patted him on the neck and soothed him. "Ready? Then let's go, baby! Let's go!"

She dug in her heels and Jupiter took off.

*     *     *

"Anyway, Anne's been waiting for me outside," Dan said. "I thought she might come in by now, but I guess she's okay."

Brian spoke up. "She seemed pretty tired."

Dan shrugged. "We've been dancing a lot. She just needed some air." To fill up the next pause of conversation, he continued. "She'd gotten all flushed and hot, so she's outside where it's cooler."

"It's not exactly cooler outside," Brian pointed out. "The humidity's up. And since everyone left, it's gotten almost chilly in here. You'd better go bring her inside. Make sure she's okay."

Dan frowned at Brian's concern. "I'm sure she's fine. But I'll go after her." He got up to leave. At the Jenga tournament, Hallie knocked down the tower.

"Sorry, guys," she said. "Hey, Dan, wait up. I'll go with you."

Honey poked Brian in the stomach. "We'll go, too." She whispered hastily in Brian's ear.

Brian's eyes got wide, then he nodded with understanding. "Come on, Mart. Di. Let's get some fresh air."

In minutes, everyone in the rec room had gotten up to follow Dan outside.

*     *     *

"What the-?"

"Is she crazy?"

"Holy -!"

The group had spilled out onto the porch, expecting to find Anne sitting in one of the chairs. Instead, they saw her on Jupiter, barreling toward a Toyota Land Cruiser. Wanting to stop her, but knowing it would be foolish to try and run in front of the speeding horse, even if they could intercept its path in time, they watched in horror and amazement as the horse lifted its front legs, pushed off with its back legs, and jumped high into the air.

Above the landing of the stairs to the garage apartments, a light came on. A hasty curse echoed across the yard even as the black horse, it's rider's white hair flying straight back from her head, sailed over the top of the SUV.

The world hung, suspended in anticipation as the horse's front hooves disappeared on the other side of the vehicle. Then the horse's head, then the rider, then the tail and the back hooves.

What those watching expected, none could put into words. What they feared or hoped happened, none would put into words. They all heard the sudden, violent shifting of gravel. Then they heard the shout.

WOO-HOOOOOOO!!!

As if by remote control, everyone surged forward into the yard. More lights flashed on the porch as the group of parents appeared, questions and concerns popping around them.

Jupiter and his rider trotted triumphantly into view. Anne's fist pumped the air. "I did it! Now you owe me, Riker!"

She didn't seem to notice the audience she'd accumulated until she felt the reins slide through her grasp. "What?" she questioned, wondering why she couldn't hold onto the leads anymore. Then she saw a man with red hair and bright blue eyes staring up at her. His lips moved, but she found it difficult to focus on what sound they were making. She shook her head. "What?" she asked again.

"Get off that god-," the voice came to her. It was Regan and he was more than the angriest she had ever seen. His eyes, normally so friendly and kind, snapped fire at her. His mouth, normally smiling, drew tight. As her eyes widened, he stopped his speech, then continued, deadly quiet. "Get off that horse and get off it this instant or, so help me Jesus, you will never ride a horse again."

"Excush me?" she said. "Why not? Didn't you see? Doesn't this prove it to you?"

He almost spat. "All it proves to me is how irresponsible you are! Riding a horse in your condition!"

"What condition?" she asked. "I'm not pregnant!" Then she laughed, loud and long.

"You're drunk!" Regan hissed furiously.

Slowly, the others moved forward, fascinated by the entire scene. They whispered to each other, what's wrong with Anne? Why'd she ride Jupiter? Why'd she jump Ben's Toyota? What's Ben doing out here? What'd Regan say? What's he going to do?

Micah stepped forward. He spoke quietly and with great authority. "Anneka. Get down from that horse this instant."

"Or what?" Anne asked. She still wore a huge smile. "I'm not drunk. I like it up here. I think I'll stay here a while. Move in. Settle down. Raise a couple of ponies." She giggled, her shoulders shaking.

Involuntarily, Ben laughed, too, but he sobered up when his uncle glared at him. Matthew hissed, "What do you have to do with this?"

Ben swallowed. "Nothing, sir. Honest. I just came out here and she was already like this."

Hallie stepped forward and peered up at Anne. Loudly, she asked, "She's drunk?"

A murmur of disapproval and disbelief swept through the crowd. From her height, blinking into the lights, Anne could not make out individual faces or expressions. "No!" she told them. "I never touch ta drop!"

In the middle of the crowd, Trixie whispered to Honey, "Why do I think Ben had something to do with this?"

"Oh, I don't know," Honey replied acerbically. "Because he's acting so guilty?"

"For the last time," Regan said, still gripping Jupiter's reins. "Get. Down. Off. That. Horse."

Anne huffed. "Okay, fine," she said. "If I can't do any more jumping, I may as well."

Regan stepped closer and held out his arm. "I'll help you."

"No, no!" Anne held up a hand. "I want to do this myself." She concentrated hard. She tried to put all her weight onto her left foot so she could swing her right leg over the back of the horse. It was a move she didn't normally have to think about. Now she didn't seem able to bring herself to do it.

Then Jupiter dipped his head down low to tug at some grass. An idea occurred. Anne untucked her right foot from the stirrup and lifted her leg over Jupiter's neck. Sitting sideways on the saddle, she faced the small crowd of onlookers directly. "Hiya, folks!" she called and waved. "I've always been too afraid to do this."

Before anyone could move, Anne jumped off the saddle and fell almost six feet onto the ground. She sank straight down to a crouch and steadied herself with both hands before trying to stand upright. Micah moved forward, but she turned to face Regan instead. "You're just angry because I proved you wrong. Admit it!"

"What?" Regan barked, clearly in no mood for any theatrics. Now riderless, Jupiter sidestepped and nickered nervously.

"I rode Jupiter," she said. "What's more, I jumped him. Now you have to let me exercise him when I want."

"No, I don’t," he said. "What's more, I don't ever have to let you back into my stables ever again. You broke the rules, Anne! You not only took out a horse without permission, you rode one in a lousy condition and in lousy circumstances. You jumped over an SUV, for Pete's sake. You could have killed yourself. Worse, you could have injured the horse."

She blinked at him. "Worse? Injuring the horse would've been worse than killing myself?"

"Yes!" he shouted at her. Then more calmly, he said, "Because the horse didn't have a choice in the matter. His health is completely dependent upon you. If you can't see that, then you have no business getting anywhere near them ever again." Regan turned and began leading Jupiter back toward the stable.

Her legs trembling, Anne stepped forward. "You jerk!" she shouted at him. Her father moved to put his arm on her shoulder, but she slapped it away, her attention still on Regan. "You stand still when I'm talking to you!" He stopped, stiffened, then turned around. His eyes blazed.

Barely conscious of anyone else, Anne stood her ground and told him off. "You're just upset because all this time I was right and you were wrong. That's right! You were wrong. You were so wrong about me. I can ride. I can ride any horse you put in front of me and I will and you can't stop me. Just because you didn't know me then is no reason to say I can't do it now."

Regan, and the rest of the crowd, tried to follow her logic. She continued, ignoring the others.

"I've been riding horses since I was four years old and showing them since I was five," she said. "When my parents hear that I've been banned from the stables, they'll have your head on a china plate! There's nothing I can't do, you hear me? Nothing!"

With that final word, Anne turned on her heel to leave. She pivoted. She swayed. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she fell in a crumpled heap on the soft ground.

*     *     *

Immediately, Brian took charge. "You!" he said, pointing to his brother. "Mart! Call 911. Tell them there's a diabetic who's possibly having a hypoglycemic reaction. Go!" he said, and Mart ran off toward Manor House.

Mr. Maypenny had already turned Anne fully onto her back and was gently tapping her face. He looked up as Brian knelt on her other side. "I think I saw a flutter," he said softly. "I believe she'll come out of it soon. That's a good sign."

Surprised, Brian stopped for a second. How would he know-? Then the answer hit him. Of course he'd know about diabetes. His daughter had it. So did his wife. Brian nodded and checked Anne's vitals. She was breathing. She had a pulse. Both were normal. He wished he had a pressure monitor. He wished he knew more certainly what to do. At the least, he could assume she would recover.

He heard his mother suggest blankets. He heard his father suggest juice. "Yeah, Dad," he said. "Get some orange juice. Make sure there's nothing else in it! I'll take her inside." He moved to lift Anne into his arms, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Please, Brian." It was Dan. "Let me. I feel responsible. If I had gone outside when I said I would…"

"Fine," Brian replied. He stepped to one side and watched as Dan easily lifted Anne's slight body into his arms and stand. "Take her inside and lay her on the couch." He turned to Mr. Maypenny. "Does she have her supplies with her?"

The suddenly extremely old man shook his head. "No," he said. "I saw it on the table beside the door when I left. I thought about bringing it anyway, but I left it there. She hasn't needed it and I certainly didn't expect this."

Brian laid a comforting hand on the man's shoulder. "Of course, you didn't. For some reason, it looks like Anne's just having a reaction to something. It's not your fault. Come on," he said. "Let's get inside."

They started walking toward the house. Brian did not want to voice his growing suspicion that, somehow, Anne had gotten hold of some alcohol. If that were true, and if she didn't have her testing kit or her medications with her, there might not be much he could do for her until the EMTs arrived except supply her with juice. He looked up to see Dan paused on the porch. He called out to them. "Hey, guys! She's waking up!" Brian and Mr. Maypenny hurried toward them. Their friends and family followed, softly voicing concerns and speculations.

Alone on the grass, still holding Jupiter's reins, Regan stood and trembled. He looked up as Elayne Lynch stepped near. She asked him if he were okay. He nodded. "I'm going to take care of Jupiter," he said. She nodded and walked toward the house.

Regan led the horse into the stable and began to remove the tack. In the darkness he groomed Jupiter, relying on the familiarity of the task to keep his mind off what could have been.

*     *     *

Inside, Hallie stood at the foot of a couch in the music room. She watched Dan, Anne on the sofa and propped up comfortably against him, holding a cup of juice to her lips. Brian, seated on the edge of the coffee table, gave soft instructions to him on the best way to let the liquid dribble into Anne's mouth. Brian had his fingers on the Anne's wrist, making sure the nerveless girl kept her head upright and actually swallowed some of the sugary juice. Her eyes slid closed until Brian jostled her arm.

Her aunt and uncle waited outside for the ambulance with her brothers and cousins, but Hallie did not go with them. Honey and Jim and even Ben suggested she go and give Anne some privacy, but Hallie could not go with them. Diana tried to forcibly lead her away from the music room, but Hallie felt she should not go with her. She remained vigilant at the foot of the couch and stared at the pieta in front of her.

Even as she heard the music, still playing in the rec room down the hall, she did not move nor did she weep.

I can't believe… you're leaving me… for an Ugly Girl… a really Ugly Girl… She's an Ugly Girl… Such an Ugggg-ly Girl…

 

Chapter Four: Building a Mystery

Immediately following

The ambulance arrived. At least, that's what Hallie figured was causing the blue and red strobe lights outside. She didn't glance away from the sight of Anne, cradled against Dan's body, sipping from the cup of juice he carefully held to her lips.

Brian said quietly, "I think she's gotten some down, anyway. That's good."

Moments after seeing the lights, Mr. Maypenny opened the door to the outside porch and two paramedics rushed in, carrying black cases. They saw Anne and hurried to the couch. The first man greeted Brian by name, then asked Dan to move so that he could check Anne's vitals. Everyone watched as the medic waved a small flashlight in Anne's eyes, then checked her pulse. He sat on the edge of the coffee table, looked straight at Anne and told her, "My name's Jeff and that's my partner Miggy. What's yours? Can you tell me your name?"

It was a painful process for Hallie to watch. She hoped to see a sign that Anne was faking her condition, that it wasn't really as hard as it seemed for the girl to say her own name. A spiteful part of Hallie's brain sniped, It's only one syllable. More like a sound, really! How hard can that be? Still, she hoped that a medical professional would be hard to fool.

Anne frowned slightly at the question, but managed to say clearly, "Margaret. My name's Margaret."

Mr. Maypenny startled slightly at that and Hallie wondered why Anne was lying to the medic. Miggy started asking questions of the rest of them, even as he opened a black case and began lifting out equipment and supplies and handing them to Jeff. "Who can tell me what happened? Has she been drinking? Does she have her medication with her?"

Even as Brian mentioned the collapse, questioned the alcohol and explained the lack of medication, Mr. Maypenny corrected Jeff. "Her name is Anne," he said.

"It is? Who are you?" Jeff asked, a bit harried by the interruption.

"I’m her father."

"Oh, okay." Jeff kept his eyes on Anne. "Okay, sweetheart. Do you know what day it is?"

"It was Tuesday, I think, last time I checked," she replied, her eyes drooping closed. "And I'm at Manor House. That'll be your next question, isn't…"

"Come on, Annie," Jeff urged her. "Don't fall asleep on me! Why do all the pretty ones fall asleep when I'm talking to them?" He tapped her face lightly.

Anne smirked, then said, "I hate 'Annie'. Call me Anne." She opened her eyes to scowl at him.

"Okay, Anne," Jeff agreed. Throughout his entire conversation, though he spoke directly to her, his hands kept moving. He checked her pressure. He pricked her finger, tested her blood, and started an IV. Hallie marveled at the man's ability to make it seem like he was unconcerned with anything but making pleasant conversation with Anne.

Meanwhile, Miggy questioned Brian further. "How can you be sure she's not drunk?" Miggy knelt on the carpet beside the couch and handed more instruments and supplies to Jeff. He seemed to be able to listen to both Brian and Dan's answers as well as Jeff and Anne's conversation.

"I can't, I guess," Brian admitted.

Dan shook his head. "She's not drunk. She wouldn't drink."

"She is."

Hallie wasn't sure who said that until Miggy turned his full attention to her. "How do you know?"

"I just know. She's drunk. Vodka, if that matters." Hallie wiped at her nose, her attention riveted to the drama on the couch. "You can fix it, right?"

"We'll try," Miggy said. Hallie didn't miss the look the two EMTs shared. Without seeming to need to discuss it, Miggy accepted the roll of medical tape back from Jeff, who had used it to secure the IV line to Anne's wrist. Jeff then laid the full bag of clear fluid on top of the sofa. He twisted a connector and watched the fluid begin a slow drip-drip into the slender tube that ran into Anne's body.

"Radio this in in the rig?" Miggy asked.

"Yup," Jeff replied. "We have a little time, but her glucose is at 41. That's way too low." To Anne, he said, "We're going to take you to the hospital now, okay?" Anne began shaking her head 'no'. "Sorry, darling," Jeff said. "But we have to. Your blood sugar is 41 and your system's going to take too long to recover from the alcohol. I know it's tough, but you've got to watch out for these wild parties."

"I'm not… "Anne whined. "Don't wanna."

"It's not up to you," Jeff told her. He glanced up at Mr. Maypenny. "We have to take her in, you know."

"I want you to," Maypenny replied. "She needs to go to the hospital. Can I ride with her?"

"Sorry, no," Jeff said. "But you can follow us to the emergency room and run the red lights. Who's her doctor? We'll have him paged."

Hallie began to shake. Doctor? Emergency room? Hospital? What did it mean, her blood sugar was 41? Was that good? Probably not. Judging from the worried expressions on Brian and Dan's faces, it was really bad. She cringed inwardly. Rushing Anne to the hospital would only make her seem more fragile and needy in Dan's eyes. But as Mr. Maypenny started to explain the medical procedure his daughter had recently undergone, and the need for constant monitoring of any change, and as the medic commented briefly on the legalities regarding underage drinking, it was decided. Anne was going to the hospital.

The EMTs brought in a stretcher for Anne. Jeff and Miggy laid her on it, then moved to cover her with a blanket. As Hallie watched, her heart sick, Dan touched his lips with two fingers and then touched Anne's lips. He followed her and her father out the door. Brian checked the room for anything left behind, then joined the short procession to the ambulance.

Hallie moved to sit down on the sofa. She stared blindly ahead of her at the grand piano. She wanted to go home. She wanted to die. She wanted the past three days to never have happened. Unfortunately, she decided, whoever was making up this little drama was in no mood to grant her wish.

*     *     *

On the porch, while the EMTs were inside treating Anne, questions were asked but few answers given. "How'd she get drunk?" Matthew wanted to know. "And are they sure she's drunk? Maybe she's just sick."

"There was plenty of alcohol upstairs," Ed Lynch remarked. "Maybe she got some from the bartender?"

"If she did," Matthew swore, "That bartender will be held responsible!"

Helen suggested, "Maybe she got it herself. You know, swiped someone's glass when they weren't looking?"

Listening to the adults fret and worry, Trixie got an idea. She went back inside the house and down the short stairs to the rec room. Standing in the empty room, the remnants of the party scattered around her, she thought. If I were a glass that used to have alcohol in it, where would I be? A noise from behind startled her.

"Didn't meant to make you jump," Honey said. "I saw you come down here and thought you could use a hand with whatever's gotten you thinking."

Trixie grinned. "You're the perfect partner, partner." She lifted her hands. "I'm thinking, all right. Trouble is, I don't know what I'm thinking."

"You're looking for signs of alcohol?" Honey guessed.

"Yeah," Trixie said. "I can't think of anything else that could cause Anne to wig out so completely. Can you?" Honey shook her head. "Okay, then," Trixie continued. "Tell me. Do you see anything out of the ordinary? Did you?"

Honey grinned. "You mean, besides the look on Brian's face when I was talking to Marvin? No."

Trixie wagged a finger at Honey. "You have to tell me all about that," she said. "Don’t think I didn't notice."

"Like I didn't notice you and Jim?"

Trixie began searching the refreshment table. "That was nothing," she claimed. "We were just talking. Nothing more than usual. And nothing less, either."

Honey clucked her tongue, but she joined Trixie at the table. They began sorting through the empty and half-empty punch cups, sniffing each, and then carefully tasting anything suspicious. "Someday, something's going to happen. It has to."

Trixie lifted a shoulder, unconcerned. "Or not. I'm getting so it doesn't bother me so much any more."

"Really?"

Trixie flushed. "Did you see Nick Roberts here tonight?" Honey nodded, and Trixie continued in a hushed tone. "He asked me to dance a couple times. He's a really good dancer. And his cologne!" She sighed. "It smelled so good."

Honey grinned. "It did? Wow."

Trixie sniffed another cup, then set it in the 'No' section on the table. "But that's not important now. What's important is figuring out who spiked Anne's drink and why."

"So you don't think it was intentional? I mean, that Anne purposely got herself drunk?"

Trixie scoffed. "Course not! After the way she avoids things that are bad for her? She took a smidgen of cake today at the lunch party, then only ate a few bites." She waved a hand. "She didn't spike her own drink."

Honey frowned. "She didn't drink any punch, either." Trixie looked up in surprise. "She told me that it was too sweet. She got some diet soda from the supplies upstairs. Some of the other kids did, too." Honey bit her lower lip. "I guess she could've gotten into the bartender's stock as well."

"I still don't think she did it herself," Trixie maintained. "But if she drank only a soda, that rules out most of these." Inspiration hit her suddenly and she hurried to the garbage can. She tugged the huge black bag out of the oversized plastic container. "Come on, Honey. Help me sort through all this."

Honey wrinkled her nose at the stench, but it was Trixie asking, so she sucked up the courage to pick through the garbage.

*     *     *

"Hey, sis, how's it going?"

Hallie jumped at the sudden noise. She looked up and saw her oldest brother standing nearby. He'd just come in from the porch. "Hey, Knut," she said dully. "Not too good."

Knut frowned. He remained where he was and simply asked, "You okay?"

Tears filling her dark eyes, Hallie shook her head. A quavering 'No-o' escaped her lips and she felt her composure give way to shuddering. She covered her face and began to cry. Knut immediately sat down next to her and put his arm across her shoulders. He hugged her gently, then said, "Come on, Hallie. It's not so bad. She'll be okay."

Hallie shook her head violently. "You don't know that! No one knows that! She could probably DIE!" She wiped her eyes dry with her fists and stared at him.

Knut's frown returned. "I don't think so," he said slowly. "The paramedics told her father outside that she would most likely only be in the hospital for observation. She'll be home tomorrow."

Hallie made a quick gesture with her hands. "So? She could have died, then. That make you happier?"

"What are you talking about, Hallie?" He gently shook her. "What's wrong? Did watching her upset you that much?"

"Huh?" She turned to him. "Watching her?"

"You know," he said reasonably. "Some people can't handle watching other people when they're sick. It makes them uncomfortable. Maybe you're one of those people. That's nothing to be ashamed of, you know."

She shook her head. "That isn't it. That isn't it at all."

As another tear slid from the corner of her eye, Knut brushed it aside. He smiled encouragingly. "Go on. Tell your favorite brother all about it. What's bothering you?"

She shrugged. She opened her mouth and nothing came out, so she shrugged again. Finally, she swallowed hard and was able to tell him without dissembling, "I did it. It's my fault."

Knut stared hard at her. He glanced around and saw they were still alone in the music room. He readjusted his position on the sofa and returned his full attention to his sister. "Go on, Hallie," he said. "Tell me everything."

*     *     *

Honey went upstairs to find more trash bags, reasoning that it made more sense for them to simply empty one bag into another, rather than just push through the muck and risk missing something important. When she returned, she found Trixie leaning against the refreshment table lost in thought. "Find anything?" she asked.

Trixie shook her head. "No. And I don’t think I will, either." She twisted her mouth to one side and then explained. "Whoever did this has probably hidden his or her tracks. If they spiked her soda can, then they probably removed the can from the scene."

"You think?" Honey asked. "It was that premeditated?" She shuddered to think that she had welcomed into her own home someone capable of such a horrible act.

"I don't know," Trixie admitted. "But what else could it be?"

"Who would do that?" She needed to know. She needed to try and understand. She needed to be able to absorb the knowledge and then she'd be able to put the evilness of it safely aside.

Trixie grinned sourly. "That's also what I've been stuck on. The 'who'."

Honey nodded. "Who here hated Anne enough to spike her drink?" For it had to be hate that sparked the impulse to intentionally try and destroy someone's life.

"Was Ruth here?" Trixie grinned. "She was invited. Did she show up?"

"You don't remember seeing her?" Inwardly, Honey cringed. It couldn't be her! Ruth Kettner was one of the nicest people Honey Wheeler had ever met.

Trixie's interest perked. "She was here?"

Honey's eyes went wide. "I have no idea. I thought maybe you had seen her."

"Wallflower of the Year?" Trixie cracked. "Not a chance."

"Trixie!" Honey scolded. "Ruth's a very nice person!" Her best friend didn't always put on her best face.

"I know," she said contritely. "She just doesn't make much of an impression."

Honey nodded wisely. "Miss Trask says she's a late bloomer."

"Whatever. I don't think she was here."

"No," Honey agreed. "Besides. Ruth would never do anything like that. No matter how many times Anne programmed Ruth's PC to crash whenever she logged on in computer class."

Trixie nodded. "Or how many times she got the school security system to register Ruth as a Bomb Threat."

"That was a horrible practical joke!" Honey scolded. "And so was the time Anne hacked into the police department database and substituted Ruth's picture for that escaped convict!"

Trixie giggled. "You have to admit, though, that was pretty funny. Watching Molinson rip up that arresting officer like that in the middle of the cafeteria for making such a stupid mistake." She waved her hand. "Anyway, you're right. Ruth wouldn't retaliate and if she did, it wouldn't be like this. So Ruth's out as a suspect. Who else do we have?"

Honey lapsed into thought once more. "I have no idea."

Ticking them off on her fingers, Trixie said, "We know who it's not. It's not any of the Bob-Whites. It's not Knut, Cap or Hallie. It's not any of Jim's or Brian's friends from school. They only met Anne tonight." She paused a moment. "Ben?"

Honey turned cautious. She didn't look at Trixie. "This could be considered a practical joke," she said. But if Ben was behind this…

Trixie agreed. "And it might have been funny had it been anyone else. In a sick sort of way, I mean. If you had no respect for a person. Hm. I guess it wouldn't have been funny at all."

"I hate to think Ben's up to his old tricks again." Honey rubbed her stomach. Something inside her whispered cherchez les femmes, but as they were discussing Ben, she didn't know quite what that whisper was supposed to mean. What woman was her intuition warning her about?

"But he was with her outside. He must have known something was wrong."

Honey heaved a huge sigh. "I hate that my cousin does things like that. I want to be able to be proud of my family, you know? I don't want to be ashamed of them!" That was the truly horrible part. Her cousin Ben Riker had caused more than his share of troubles for Honey and her friends.

Trixie hugged her best friend, but did not speak. Sometimes, words were unnecessary.

*     *     *

"It wasn't supposed to be anything bad," Hallie began. She wiped her eyes dry once more. "She wasn't supposed to get so sick, just tipsy. She was just supposed to act silly and stupid and embarrass herself. She wasn't supposed to… to…"

Knut took his sister's hand in his own. "Go on, Hallie. Tell me what you did."

Hallie waited a long time while she gathered the courage to admit her wrongdoing. Finally, the words came out in a rush. "I spiked her drink."

"You what?" Knut asked.

"You heard me," she said. "I spiked her drink. I'm the culprit. I poured in the vodka. It was me."

"How'd you get the vodka?" Knut asked, giving her no clue to his thoughts.

"Someone gave it to me." She refused to look at him.

He nodded, understanding his sister's need to move away from that line of questioning for the moment. "Okay. Why?"

"I asked him to," she said.

"No, I mean-"

"Because I wanted to hurt her."

"Anne?" he asked. Hallie nodded. "Why'd you want to hurt her? You just met her yesterday and only for a little bit. Did I miss something?"

"Oh, Knut!" she sobbed harder, laying her head on his shoulder. "I'm such a terrible person. I don't deserve nice things to happen to me. I just wanted… I just wanted…"

"What, Hal?" Knut asked softly. He laid a hand on her hair and slowly stroked it. "What did you want?"

"I wanted Dan to like me."

"How was getting Anne drunk going to make Dan like you?" he asked.

She explained. "A long time ago, Dan told me how he despised people who got drunk. How they acted stupid and silly. So I thought, if Anne got drunk at the party," she began, but Knut finished for her.

"Then Dan would stop liking her and start liking you," he said. Hallie nodded. "You realize that plan would never work. If a guy really likes a girl, he'll overlook just about anything she does."

She sniffled. "Sure. Point out the flaw in the plan now."

He ignored her sarcasm and gently comforted her. "So, what do you want to do about it?"

She pulled away from him, brushed at her tears, then said flat out, "I want to go home!"

*     *     *

Dan hurried into the dark stable and almost collided with his uncle. "Glad I caught you," Dan began. "I need your keys to the truck. I'm taking Maypenny to the hospital so we can be with Anne."

"Slow down a bit," Regan said. He laid a hand on Dan's shoulder. "What's wrong with her? I saw the ambulance. Is it that serious?"

Dan nodded grimly. "Her blood sugar is way down. Apparently, someone gave her vodka to drink. She'd never have drunk any on her own."

The grip on Dan's shoulder tightened. Regan's blue eyes glittered in the dim light. "Who would do that?"

Dan shook his head. "I don't know, but when I find out, I'm going to kill him!" Dan tried to move past Regan to the office where he knew Regan kept the keys to the truck, but his uncle firmly prevented him.

"Dan, calm down!" he ordered. "You shouldn't drive if you're going to be too busy worrying about Anne."

"I'll be fine, Uncle Bill," Dan replied. He pushed Regan's hand off his shoulder and moved toward the office. Without turning on the light, he felt on the wall for the row of key hooks, grabbed the correct ring and headed back out the stable entrance.

Regan asked, "Call me when you know anything, all right?"

Dan barely noted the concerned tone in Regan's voice. He waved a hand in agreement, then called out to Maypenny that he was going to get the truck. In less than a minute he was in the truck and bringing it close to the ambulance to wait for the older man. As he idled the engine, the headlights helping to illuminate the silent chaos in the yard, he saw Anne's stretcher being lifted into the rig and Maypenny asking for and receiving more information from the medics. He watched as Jeff climbed in beside Anne. Miggy got into the driver's seat.

Maypenny hurried to the truck and got in, strapping the seatbelt across his waist. He clenched the door handle and stared straight ahead. The ambulance turned on its siren and slowly pulled away from the crowd of onlookers. Dan followed.

As the siren's echo faded, the crowd of people left behind in the back yard began to stir. "We should go home," Mrs. Lynch suggested quietly. "Madeleine, we'll call you in the morning around nine, okay?"

Madeleine Wheeler nodded and hugged her friend. "We should know something more by then."

The Lynches quietly took their leave. Even Diana got into the family car, though she hugged Mart tightly first. "I should go with them," she told him. "Call me if you find anything out and I'll do the same, okay?"

Mart nodded and waved as the Lynchs' Lexus rolled down the driveway toward Glen. He became aware of his father nearby. Peter put his arm around his son's shoulders and gently steered him back to the main group.

"I think it's time the Beldens got home, too," Peter said quietly. He looked around. He saw Helen, Brian and, of course, Mart. "Anyone see where they all went?"

*     *     *

"I want Mom," she continued. "I want to see Mom and Dad." They'd fix everything, she knew. They'd make everything all right.

"Hallie? They're in South America now," he reminded her. "We won't see them again until August."

"Then I want to see Gramma!"

Helplessly, Knut just stared at her. "Gramma? But we're-"

"I could get a flight out to Washington and be there in only a few hours," she said desperately. "Please, Knut! You'll help me, right?"

"I don't know about this, Hallie," he began.

"Sure, you do!" Her tears vanishing, Hallie beamed a 1000 watt smile. "It'll be perfect. You know how Gramma was saying to Mom how she never gets enough time with us!"

"But we just got here-"

"Right," she interrupted him. "But I was here two years ago. Nothing's changed much. If you like, you and Cap stay and I'll go to Portland by myself. Come on, Knut! It's not like I have never flown by myself before!"

"Gosh, Hallie," he began. "I don't know about this-"

"Don't know about what?"

They turned to see their brother standing in the open doorway to the porch. Seeing their expressions, Cap came in all the way and closed the door behind him. He repeated his question. "You don't know about what?"

*     *     *

"So, do we think it was Ben?" Trixie spoke cautiously, not wanting to hurt her friend with any unfounded accusation of her cousin.

"Who else could it have been?" Honey wondered helplessly. "Who else would do something so thoughtless?"

Trixie didn’t know. "Let's not say anything to anyone just yet. Not until we have more proof."

"What kind of proof could we get?" Honey asked. "We're not the police. We can't just smack him around until he confesses. This isn't NYPD Blue and you are not Sipowicz."

Trixie affected a wounded air. "I'd like to think I'm more attractive than that, thank you very much."

"Like Danny Sorenson?" Honey asked, referring to the young blond detective on the popular police drama.

Trixie snickered. "Yeah. Like that. Anyway," she said, returning to the subject at hand. "I seem to remember seeing Ben hand Anne a can of diet soda."

Her voice trailed off as Honey's eyes grew wide. "Trixie! Do you think you saw the crime being committed? If only you'd known."

Their attention was drawn by the sound of the ambulance sirens suddenly starting up. They stood and moved to the stairs to peek outside. Trixie stated the obvious. "I think they must be taking her to the hospital."

"Do you think we should go say goodbye or something?" Honey wondered.

"No," Trixie said slowly. "We'd only get in the way and she probably wouldn’t remember we were there, anyway. I think the best thing we can do is try and figure out who did this to her. If it was Ben, then we need to figure out how and why."

"Well," Honey decided. "Let's just go ask, okay?" With that, she went up the short flight of stairs to the main level of the house. Trixie followed thoughtfully behind her.

In the service hall connecting the rec room to the kitchen to the music room, the girls found Ben. His hair was mussed and he leaned wearily against the wall. He didn't move as they approached. "What's up, Ben?" Trixie asked casually. She stood in front of him and folded her arms. Honey moved to his side and laid her hand gently on his shoulder.

Ben took a huge breath and straightened. "Nothing," he said. "What's up with you?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued. "She just left, huh."

"Who did?" Trixie asked, intending to make him say it.

Sarcastically, he asked her, "Who do you think?" He glanced at Honey, then away. His voice hushed, he answered, "Anne. The ambulance took her, right?"

"Right," Honey assured him with another brief squeeze of his shoulder. She stared hard at Trixie, not understanding why her friend was being so difficult.

"Of course, they took her," Trixie said, a bit coldly. "You heard Brian. She had a hypoglycemic reaction. She needed to go to the hospital to get straightened out."

Ben nodded. If anything, he seemed to grow more pale and his expression more bleak. He stared at his shoes. In a voice even lower than before, he asked, "Do they… do they know… know what caused it? What happened?"

Trixie waited a beat, then replied, "She got drunk." She watched his face closely for any signs of guilt.

Ben nodded, his eyes still downcast. "I thought something might be wrong with her."

"You did? When?" Honey asked.

He gestured. "Outside. Before. When she jumped the Land Cruiser." He lifted his face to the ceiling. "I told her not to do it. I said she didn't have to, I swear! I didn't make her."

"That's not the point," Trixie broke in. "She did and she made it, so let's just let Regan worry about that. What concerns me is how she got the alcohol. Do you know?"

"Huh?" Startled, he stared at her. "What are you saying?"

Trixie was all innocence. She spread her arms in a non-threatening manner and said, "Nothing! I'm just asking. That's all. I'm trying to put this whole thing together. Do you know how Anne got drunk or don't you?"

"No!" he almost shouted. "And you'd better not be telling people it's me, either! That's slander and it's against the law! Besides, you have no way of knowing if she's drunk or if this is just something normal for her. Heck. When we were all in Switzerland that one year, she fainted all the time."

"Relax, Ben!" Honey urged. "We're just asking. Anne's our friend. We're concerned for her. If she's taken up drinking, we need to know about it so we can help her."

Trixie almost grinned. Honey had a way of smoothing ruffled feathers like no one else. Trixie figured Honey's tact had just bought her a few more pounds of pressure. "So you have no idea how Anne could have gotten any liquor? No idea at all?"

Somewhat mollified by his cousin's words, Ben relaxed against the wall. "No," he said. "I don't have any idea."

Trixie gritted her teeth. She knew Ben was lying. She knew it. She read his deception in the way he didn't look at her or Honey. She read it in the unexplained anger. She read it in the guilt in his eyes. Unfortunately, she hadn't a clue how to get him to confess. "Come on, Honey," she said briskly. "Let's start asking the servants. Maybe one of them saw something they didn't know they saw."

"Okay," Honey agreed slowly. She was clearly unwilling to leave Ben alone in his misery, but she allowed Trixie to take her elbow and push her ahead down the hall. They had gotten almost to the music room when they heard Ben call to them to stop.

"Don't go yet," he said. Trixie and Honey turned around. Ben sagged against the wall, his face twisted virtually unrecognizable with anguish. "Maybe I do know more about this."

Trixie and Honey shared a look. Her voice soft, Trixie prompted, "What more do you know, Ben?"

"How she got drunk. Her diet soda was spiked with vodka." Then, with eyes blazing, he pointed at them both. "But it wasn't my idea! I only supplied the booze. I didn't even do the deed."

"No, Ben!" Honey moaned. Her eyes filled with tears and she grabbed Trixie's arm for support.

Trixie barely felt Honey's grip. Instead, she felt her stomach sink. "Who was your accomplice, Ben? Who asked you to get the liquor?"

*     *     *

Knut faced his brother. "Hallie wants to fly out to Washington tomorrow to visit Gramma."

Cap narrowed his eyes in suspicious confusion. "Why? We just got here."

"Not you guys," Hallie said brightly. "Me. I want to go. I miss Gramma." Her entire posture cheerfully pleading, she leaned towards Cap, imploring him to understand.

Cap moved closer to them and glanced warily from one to the other. "Come on, spill it. What's the real reason you want to skip town. You guilty of something?"

Hallie reacted as if she'd been slapped. She sat bolt upright. "No!"

Knut took his sister's hand in his at the same time and said, "She spiked that girl Anne's drink. She poured in the vodka that made her sick." He spoke quietly and without inflection.

Stunned, Cap sank down almost to the carpet. He balanced himself on the balls of his feet. "You're kidding me, right? Knut, tell me you're joking."

But his brother shook his head. Tears returned to Hallie's eyes. "Please, don't say anything!" she begged. "Please just let me go to Gram's. I can't stay here any more."

Cap kept his eyes on his brother. "Why'd she do it?"

With a look to Hallie, Knut replied, "She was hoping to get Dan's attention."

Cap guffawed. "You have got to be kidding me! By getting his girlfriend drunk? That sort of thing happens in soap operas and bad movies."

"That's what I told her."

Hallie moaned and covered her face. "I'm so embarrassed. I feel terrible."

Cap's reply was swift. "You should!"

"Hey!" Knut defended their sister. "She feels bad enough already."

"All I could do all this past month was go on and on about how we were going to Sleepyside and you'd get to meet him," Hallie kept moaning. "And all that's happened since has been horrible. He hates me."

"Hal," Cap said. "Why should he appreciate what you did? Why shouldn't he hate you?"

Copious tears spilled from her eyes. "You really think he hates me?"

Cap looked at Knut. "Isn't that what she said?" Knut shrugged.

"But he's supposed to understand! He's supposed to… to…" Hallie's words wailed into a sob.

Knut put his arm around his sister's shoulders and tried to bolster her spirits. "It'll be okay. You go to Gramma's and we'll handle things here."

Hallie nodded, but Cap became furious. "What? You can't be serious. She is not going to Gramma's!"

Knut frowned. "Come on, Capelton! Can't you see she's embarrassed and in pain? She stays here, it'll only get worse."

"If she runs away it will, you mean!" Cap stood and stared down at his siblings. "No. I refuse to let her go. She needs to stay and face this, head-on, like a man."

"She's not a man," Knut corrected him.

"Like a Belden, then!" Cap replied. "My sister is NOT a coward. My sister stays and fights her own battles. My sister may screw up, she may make mistakes, but she does NOT run from them. No, sir! My sister owns up to what she does. My sister faces the consequences of her own actions." He turned and paced to the piano, then pivoted and swiftly crossed the floor, returning to stand in front of them. "My sister is going to march right out there and confess what she's done."

"Confess?" Hallie's gasp echoed in the small room.

"Yes!" Cap affirmed with righteous anger. "Confess. And apologize to both Anne, Mr. Maypenny and Dan."

"Well, well, what have we here?" Their attention was drawn by the sudden appearance of Trixie and Honey. They had entered the room from the service corridor. Trixie folded her arms and repeated her question. "What's going on, Hallie? What are you planning to confess, hm?"

"Oh, God," Hallie moaned. "Not you, too!"

Clearly heartsick, Honey rushed to sit next to Hallie. She laid her hand on Hallie's back and hugged her. Knut flashed her a grateful smile. Trixie moved to stand next to Cap. "Yeah," she said. "Me, too. Ben told me what you two cooked up."

"Ben?" Knut repeated. "Ben was in on this, too?"

Cap nodded as the pieces fell into place. "I was wondering how she got the alcohol."

"Yeah," Trixie informed them. "He told us his side of things."

"His side?" Hallie asked fearfully. "Exactly what did he tell you?"

Trixie waved her hand airily. "Nothing much. Just that he gave you a glassful of vodka and you poured it into Anne's can of diet soda and then he gave it to her to drink. He also said it was all your idea."

"Mine!" Hallie shrieked.

"Hallie!" Knut warned.

"I might have known," Cap muttered.

"Wasn't it?" Trixie pressed. "If it's not, you'd better clear this up right now. He's out there telling everyone that same story right now." She gestured to the back porch where the adults had remained.

"Oh, God," Hallie moaned again. "Can this night get any worse?"

"Shhh," Honey soothed her. "This is the hard part. Once you come clean and tell the truth, you can work on making things better. And they will be. Better, that is." She looked up at Trixie as if daring her to contradict her. "Won't it." It was not a question.

"She has to apologize, first," Trixie said. "And I think she should be the one to tell Anne."

Hallie pushed against Honey and Knut's supportive arms around her shoulders and slumped into the sofa cushions. "Why do I have to be the one?"

Trixie shrugged. "You don't. But if you want Anne to understand, you need to be the one to do it. Besides, Ben is out there already confessing his part in all this. You want him to tell everyone it was all your idea?"

Cap agreed. "You know, I just met the guy yesterday, but I don't trust him one bit. Do you?"

Hallie shook her head miserably and shrugged.

"Then you have to tell them." Cap folded his arms, matching Trixie's firm stance. "Therefore, you're not running away to Gramma's."

"Oh, Hallie!" Honey asked, her concern evident in her every molecule. "You weren't going to run away from this, were you?"

Hallie narrowed her eyes at her brother, a bit of her characteristic spunk returning. "I guess not."

Cap grinned. "That's my little sister!"

Knut patted Hallie's knee. "Then it's decided. You'll 'fess up and apologize. We're behind you one hundred percent, you know."

She nodded. "I know, Knut. I know."

*     *     *

Ben stood on the porch for a long moment before speaking. Until that point, no one really took notice of his presence. Typical, he told himself. His Uncle Matthew and Aunt Madeleine were holding each other. His aunt looked like she had been crying. His cousin Jim just looked concerned. He's so good at that, Ben thought. Always the perfect response to any situation. Never makes a mistake. The guy's not human.

The Lynches had gone, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Belden alone with their sons, Mart and Brian. Ben wondered why 'Dr. Kildare' hadn't ridden along in the ambulance. Mr. Maypenny and Dan were missing. He figured they had gone to the hospital. Great. I'll just warm up my speech on these people. He cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention.

With as sincere an expression as he could muster, he told them the truth. The reaction was immediate.

His uncle let fly with a string of inventive curses. His aunt moaned and sobbed. His cousin shook his head and turned his back. The Beldens just seemed shell-shocked, but their reaction didn't matter to him at all. He weathered the storm of his uncle's fury for a full two minutes before deciding it was time to speak up.

"That's not it at all, Uncle Matt!" he ground out. "How was I to know how she'd react?"

"She's got diabetes, idiot!" Brian fairly spat. "What do you think that means?" He ignored the fact that he had interrupted Mr. Wheeler, who trying to point out the very same thing.

Irritated that Brian had involved himself in a Wheeler family discussion, Ben sneered, "She has a problem with sugar. So what?"

"So what?" Brian almost shouted. His father cautioned him to calm down, but he ignored him. "Try blindness, kidney transplants, amputations, heart and liver problems. Try convulsions and comas and - and complications in childbirth. It's a helluva lot more than a problem with sugar!"

Ben ground his jaw and looked away. Eyes blazing, he saw Regan walk up to the small group. Terrific, Ben thought. Let's just let everyone in on this. Brian paused for breath so Ben snapped, "You through?"

"Benjamin!" Matthew said sharply. "You're too old for me to send you to your room, so why don't you excuse yourself?"

With a level stare, Ben clicked his heels in a mock-military manner, saluted and said, "Permission to be excused, sir!"

"Just get out of here," Matthew said angrily. Ben opened the door into the kitchen and let it slam shut behind him.

"Brian?" Madeleine asked in a tiny voice. "Will Anne be all right?"

"She's at the hospital by now," he told her, his manner softening immediately with respect to the fragile woman. "They'll do everything they can to help her recover. I wouldn't worry about it."

Madeleine nodded and rested her head against her husband's chest. Matthew held her tenderly in his arms and dropped a kiss on her hair.

Regan moved quietly to Brian's side. "She'll be all right, then?" he asked softly.

Brian nodded. "Oh, she'll get over this."

"What about that experimental operation she had? How will this affect her recovery from that?"

Brian saw the doors to the music room open and watched as his sister and his cousins came outside. To Regan, he said, hushed, "Don't let on to anyone, especially Mrs. Wheeler."

Regan nodded. "Of course not. About what?"

Brian led Regan several feet away from the rest. "This isn't good. She wasn't supposed to deviate from the prescribed diet. Not one bite more or less. I saw her eat some cake today, but she told me she had rearranged some allowable sugar and carbohydrates from breakfast and dinner so that she could join in with everyone else."

Regan saw the problem. "And then someone gave her alcohol."

Brian nodded grimly. "And not just someone - Ben and Hallie."

"So I heard," Regan told him. "That's why I came out here. I don't get it. How could anyone do that? Why would anyone do that?"

Brian shrugged and shook his head. "I don't know, Regan. I just don't know."

*     *     *

Hallie spoke first. "Guys, maybe this isn't the best time." She hesitated in the doorway, but Cap pushed her firmly through.

"No time like the present," Trixie reminded her. She followed her cousin out the door into the relative darkness of the back yard. Thanks to the Wheelers security lights, there were strong shadows making dark corners in the yard, but the people's faces were clearly lit. Trixie scanned those faces and read shock, fear, concern and weary anger on them all. She did not envy her cousin her task, but she knew Hallie had to go through with it now or she would never get past it. Suddenly, Trixie put herself in her cousin's place. She felt her earlier anger fade, replaced by empathy and a desire to protect the cousin who was so much like herself.

Wanting her cousin face the music, yet not wanting to make it more difficult than it needed to be, she put an arm on Hallie's shoulders and drew everyone's attention. "Hallie has something to say about all this," she said loudly. "Go on, Hallie. Tell them what you did." Hallie glanced uncertainly at her, fear apparent in her blackberry eyes. Trixie whispered, "I'll be right here the whole time. I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier. You're not alone."

Hallie smiled gratefully, then turned to face the others. "Um… uh…," she began, her lower lip quivering. "I really didn't mean for anything bad to happen, honest!" Hallie glanced at Trixie for more encouragement and found it. Drawing strength from her cousin's unconditional support, she took a deeper breath and began again. "I know what's wrong with Anne. I-"

"We know, Hallie," Mr. Wheeler said kindly. "Ben told us."

Hallie's eyes went wide. She gulped and nodded. "What did he say?"

Behind them, Trixie heard Cap mutter something uncomplimentary. She heard Knut hiss to his brother to be quiet. Honey moved past the cousins and off the porch onto the ground. Quietly, she reached Brian's side.

Mr. Wheeler replied easily, "Ben said he saw Anne drink a can of diet soda he thought was mixed with vodka. He says he didn't say anything because he didn't know it would be harmful to her."

"Did he-" Hallie began. "Didn't he…"

"Didn't he what, Hallie?" her Uncle Peter said. His brown eyes showed nothing but concern and love for his niece. He moved closer to her. "What didn't Ben do?"

"Go on," Trixie urged her quietly. "Don't back off now."

Hallie nodded. "I won't." She straightened her spine and Trixie was momentarily surprised at how much taller her cousin had gotten since she'd seen her last. "He didn't tell you everything. He didn't tell you who put the vodka in the soda can."

There was silence in the yard save for the gentle cheep-cheep-cheep of the crickets. Helen Belden prodded gently, "And who put the vodka in the soda can and handed it to Anne?"

The tension must be getting to me, Trixie thought, Cause I'm starting to lose it. This sounds like a Dr. Seuss rhyme. She controlled an errant giggle. Or that Danny Kaye movie, the Court Jester. The can meant for Anne has the brew that is true. She forced herself to focus on Hallie.

"I did, Aunt Helen. It was me."

Trixie could feel her cousin bracing herself for the firestorm sure to follow. But while Trixie herself had been the first to accuse, she was not willing to stand by while others did the same. So when Mr. Wheeler started shouting about irresponsibility and stupid teenagers, Trixie retaliated.

"With all due respect, Mr. Wheeler," she began hotly. "You're way out of line. You don't know the first thing about my cousin and to call her irresponsible and stupid is - is - crazy and dumb!" What I wouldn't give for Mart's vocabulary right now!

Her mother immediately gestured for her to be quiet. "Trixie! Be still!"

But Mr. Wheeler did not seem to mind arguing with Trixie. "Young lady!" he began. "I don't know what you've been told, but handing alcohol to a diabetic is tantamount to giving a hemophiliac a mattress stuffed with razor blades and telling them to have sweet dreams! If that isn't irresponsible and stupid, if not negligent and criminal, I don't know what is!"

"Criminal!" Hallie gasped.

Trixie sensed Cap and Knut moving forward to take Hallie into their physical protection even as she moved to stand in front of her cousins. "That's not fair. Hallie just poured the vodka in the can. It was your nephew who gave the drink to Anne! I saw him do it!"

"What!?" The cry came from several in the group, but Trixie had an angry stare only for Mr. Wheeler.

"That's right! It was Ben who handed Anne the spiked soda!" She threw her arms up in the air. "And who do you think got Hallie the vodka in the first place? Celia?" Her arms fell to her sides with a loud slap! "Again, no. It was Ben. Ben! Ben! Ben! It's Ben you should be yelling at, not Hallie. He's the adult! He should have known better. He's the one who should be punished, not Hallie."

Trixie barely noticed if the others were paying attention to her or not until Jim stepped into her line of sight. She faltered just a moment, worried that her show of temper was not putting her in the most attractive light. Well, tough, she told herself. This is how I am when I'm mad and if he doesn't like it, too bad for him!

"We are angry with Ben, Trixie," Jim said, loud enough to draw her attention. "But you have to see that Hallie is at least in some part responsible for what happened. She knew Anne was drinking that soda. She could have told her. Or told someone."

Feeling her anger dissipate, Trixie nodded. "I know that, but still, this is mostly Ben's fault."

Jim's eyes glittered in the light. He said softly, "Ben says it was Hallie's idea."

Trixie wanted to deny it, but knew she couldn't. "Well, so what if it was?" she asked in a small voice. "Does that mean she has to take all the blame? Does that mean she has to stand here and get yelled at?"

Jim smiled. "No, of course not. Look. We're all tired. More than that. We're exhausted. I know I am." He glanced at the rest of the group and included them in his suggestion. "Why don't we all get some sleep and just deal with it in the morning? I mean, I was up at six this morning and it's been nonstop ever since. All the parties, all the noise and confusion and then all this, well… it's been a long day." He checked his watch. "Wow. It's almost three-thirty."

"It is?" Peter almost jumped. "I guess I'm calling in sick tomorrow."

"Just take the rest of the week," Helen suggested softly. "Your brother's kids are in town. The bank will handle things without you."

He nodded and smiled at her. "That sounds good. Let's all take Jim's suggestion and go home and get some rest. We have a lot to discuss in the morning."

Meanwhile, Mr. Wheeler was making decisions for his family, too. "Three-thirty A.M. is much too late to be having any decent sort of conversation. Let's all get some sleep."

The Belden cousins moved as a unit off the porch and toward their aunt and uncle in the yard. Mart gave Hallie a hug and spoke to her quietly. Trixie barely noticed Regan turning and walking back toward the garage. She took a step down, bringing her eye level with Jim, who stood in her way.

Trixie quirked a grin at him in thanks for diffusing a potentially damaging situation. She was about to say so to him when his father walked up to her. "Well, Ms. Belden," Mr. Wheeler began. "Looks like I've been on the receiving end of one of your famous rants."

Alarmed, Trixie glanced at Jim who, in turn, looked a tiny bit sheepish. "Oh?" she said.

Matthew Wheeler laughed slightly. "Yes, and I suppose I deserve it, too. My temper, you know. It's the bane of my existence."

"Is it?" she asked politely.

Mrs. Wheeler started to laugh, drawing her husband's amused attention. "Uh-oh," he said. "When my wife gets the giggles, it's time to put her in bed. Good night, Trixie." He hesitated a moment, then said in a confidential tone, "I like people who stand up to me once in a while."

Struggling to contain her relieved grin, she said, "I'll remember that."

"Just don't remember it too well or too often," he said as he escorted his wife inside. At the last step before the threshold he called out, "Coming Madeleine-Honey?"

"Coming, Father!" Honey rushed up the stairs and into the house, pausing next to Trixie for a quick, "Good night and don't forget to call me or come over ASAP!"

"I'd better go inside, too," Jim said. "Good night, Trixie."

"Good night, Jim." She took the last step onto the ground and started following after her family, who had already started on the path toward Crabapple Farm. As she walked out of the splash of light from the security floods, she heard Jim call her name. She hurried back into the light. "Yes, Jim?"

He stood in the doorway. "I just wanted to thank you for all the dances."

"You're welcome," she said. "Thank you for asking." She waved her hand quickly, then turned and raced to catch up to her parents thankful that in the darkness, no one could see her blush.

*     *     *

But the Beldens did not end up going directly to bed. Peter found Bobby on the family computer playing Diablo on Battlenet with the Lynch twins, resulting in a fifteen minute scold-and-discussion session between father, mother and son. The teenagers concentrated on washing off the general dirt and grime from the party. They congregated in the bathroom and the upstairs hall and discussed the party in greater detail.

"How'd you come up with that idea anyway, Hallie?" Mart wanted to know.

She was washing her face, so when she turned off the water, she started to reply, "I read it in a book once, I think."

"You read?" Cap smirked.

Patting her skin dry with the fluffy towel Mart handed her, Hallie made a face. "Yes. I read." She huffed and added, "Nothing happened in the story, of course. The heroine only tasted the punch and then put it down. Her husband picked up hers by mistake and realized the switch."

Trixie frowned as she pushed her way in front of the sink so she could brush her teeth. She ignored Mart purposely stretching in front of her to grab his own brush. To provoke her brother, she 'accidentally' leaned in front of him to grab the paste, moving the cup of brushes out of his reach. In an idle tone, she asked, "Do you realize you cast Anne in the role of heroine?"

That stopped Hallie for a full ten seconds. "No… I didn't realize that."

In the hallway, Knut and Brian were having their own discussion. "Did it work? Did you do it?"

"Like a charm! Knut, your advice was perfect!" Brian whispered excitedly. "She not only agreed to some time alone, she even suggested we schedule it earlier. We're going on a picnic on Thursday!"

"Thursday?" Knut asked. "What's wrong with tomorrow?"

"It's already tomorrow," Brian said with a laugh. "Besides, the Bob Whites will probably be going to Anne's house to welcome her home. I'm sure she'll be discharged before noon."

Knut nodded wisely. "Then that's when Hallie should probably speak to Anne."

Cap joined them in the hall. "What're you guys talking about out here all hush-hush?" He grinned at them.

"Just making plans," Brian grinned back.

"Plans for what?" Mart asked. In a moment, Hallie and Trixie had crowded into the hallway. Plans and ideas for the week's entertainment began to fly fast and furious. In the middle of it all, a bleary-eyed Bobby walked up the stairs and said, "Can you guys keep it down now? I'm supposed to go to sleep."

"Actually," Cap laughed, "I'm feeling more awake than ever." He frowned. "But I need to brush out my hair." He started taking his Indian braids apart.

"Yes, Bobby," Brian said. "We'll be quiet so you can rest. Kill many demons today?"

Bobby yawned and said, "Lots and lots." He waved a 'goodnight' at them all and went into his room, closing the door behind him. The cousins grinned at each other, certain they had never been so young nor so sleepily adorable.

Peter and Helen walked up the stairs. "I have a wonderful idea," Helen said. "What say we all go to bed for five hours, wake up, do the chores really really quick and then sit down to a huge breakfast? Sound good to you?"

"Sounds great, Moms!" Trixie decided for everyone. "Come on, Hallie. Let's get some sleep."

"Five hours?" Hallie asked. "That means we get to sleep in, right?"

Trixie laughed wearily. "Yes, Hallie. We get to sleep in."

*     *     *

By ten, half of Helen's generous supply of pancakes were devoured and they were running low on syrup. "Looks like a run to Lytell's is in order if we want more before I go grocery shopping this weekend," Helen informed them. She received no less than four volunteers to stop at Lytell's on their way back from visiting Anne either in the hospital or at her house. Trixie was the sole teenage holdout, having no real desire to pay a visit to the crotchety businessman, so Helen suggested Trixie take charge of clean up.

In response, Trixie delegated the authority. "Brian, you and Knut clear the table and put away the leftovers, if there are any. Mart, you wash. Cap, you dry. Hallie, you put away."

"What are you going to do, O Dimpled One?" Hallie grinned.

Trixie smiled beatifically. "I'm supervising, remember?" She switched on the radio and turned up the music. "I'll sweep and take out the trash. How's that?"

"Deal," Hallie agreed.

The clean up proceeded without much dissension. When the phone rang, Trixie leapt to answer it. It was Lisa, her father's secretary at the bank. "What's wrong, Lisa? You sound sick or something."

"This is bad, really bad," Lisa said, her voice trembling. "Get your dad, okay? Just get him now!"

"Sure. Hold on a sec," Trixie told her. Without a second thought, she shoved open the kitchen door and hurried to find her father. He was in the living room reading the Wall Street Journal. "Dad? Phone call for you. It's Lisa FromtheBank," she told him, unconsciously identifying the woman with her place of employment.

Peter folded the paper, a look of concern etching itself across his brow. "I'll take it in the den."

Trixie nodded and went to hang up the kitchen extension. She heard her father pick up the other receiver and greet Lisa. She squashed her curiosity in deference to her father's, and the bank's, privacy. It was just three minutes before her curiosity screamed at her sense of propriety: See what you made us do?

Almost ten minutes later, her father rushed into the kitchen, Helen close behind him. He was saying, "I don't know how long this will take. I'll call when I do know. Don't wait dinner." He had changed into slacks and was carrying his laptop computer, secure in its carry-case.

Helen stopped short. "You'll be that late?"

He stopped and turned almost as if the very act of informing his wife of his plans cost him valuable time. "I don't know, Helen. I'll try to call you, okay? That's all I can promise because that's all I know. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay," she said, clearly bewildered and concerned. "Drive safely. I love you."

Peter grabbed his car keys from their place on top of the refrigerator. "I love you, too. Don't worry. I'll call when I can. Bye, kids." He nodded once to the stunned teenagers, then turned and left the house.

"What's going on with dad?" Mart asked, his hands still scrubbing the same dish.

"Is something wrong at the bank?" Trixie asked, thinking of the phone call.

Helen, her expression unchanged, nodded. Through the screen door, she watched Peter in his Camry drive away. There was no way he could see her, but she waved anyway. "That was Lisa, his secretary," she said, turning around. "Apparently, the bank's being surprise-audited. They need Peter there for his computer access and to oversee the proceedings. According to Lisa, who spoke to one of the government agents, the bank is missing a large sum of funds."

"You mean embezzlement?" Trixie's jaw dropped open. "I don't believe it," she whispered. Her legs began to feel weak so she pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down. The others continued with their assigned duties, but Trixie's mind was already working on her latest puzzle. As if she had a message for the young detective, Sarah Machlachlan was singing:

…You're so beautiful with an edge and a charm…But so careful when I'm in your arms - 'Cause you're working, building a mystery… Holding on and holding it in- Yeah, you're working, building a mystery…And choosing so carefully…

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