Ok, the official stuff: These are not my characters, but I love them dearly and would never harm them intentionally. I am making absolutely no profit from them, in fact, they are putting a dent in my wallet…. may the rich and powerful have mercy on a poor fool such as I . Thank you.

The Secret of the Stone Wall

by Dragonquirk

Part One

A warm spring breeze sent a shower of cherry blossoms over the front entrance to Sleepyside Junior-Senior High school, mixing with the sea of excited students exiting the building.

Trixie Belden impatiently shook the wayward blossoms out of her short sandy blonde curls and stood on a nearby bench to look for her best friend. Her blue eyes were a perfect match for the cloudless sky above, sparkling with excitement as she scanned the crowd of students.

"Trixie! Over here!"

Trixie turned to see a tall, slim blonde waving at her. She jumped off the bench, and hurried over to meet her.

"Gleeps, Honey, I almost gave up hope! Is Miss Trask here yet?"

Honey’s hazel eyes shone with excitement. "She said to meet her in the side lot. I’m so glad you could come with us this weekend, Trix."

Both girls hurried over to the blue sedan, waving happily to the older woman with short gray hair waiting patiently in the front seat.

"My, everyone seems glad to take advantage of the four day weekend you have." Miss Trask’s blue eyes twinkled merrily at the two girls climbing into the car.

Trixie laughed. "I guess having a mild winter had one good point."

Honey wrinkled her nose. "I don’t see why we just couldn’t get out early, instead of having this extra time in May. Jim and Brian are home from college, and Ben and Heather’s schools are finished already."

Miss Trask suppressed a smile as she maneuvered the car out of the parking lot. "Would you like to go to a private school like your cousins, Honey?"

"Oh, no, I wouldn’t trade Sleepyside high for anything!" Honey said hastily. "I guess you can’t have everything!" she added, laughing.

Trixie smiled at her friend in the front seat. When the Wheelers moved into the huge mansion up the hill from her house, Honey had been a pale and timid only child. The two girls formed a fast friendship, and soon were sharing exciting adventures, including finding runaway Jim Frayne, whom the Wheelers adopted, giving Honey an older brother.

Together with two of Trixie’s brothers and their friends Diana Lynch and Dan Mangan, they had formed the Bob-Whites of the Glen; a semi-secret club dedicated to helping others in need. They converted the old gatehouse on the Wheeler’s property into a snug clubhouse and shared ownership of the club station wagon.

Beside numerous charity works, the group seemed to find many mysteries to solve, prompting Honey and Trixie to consider opening up their own detective agency when they got older.

Trixie sighed happily and settled into the back seat. "Four days and no brothers, or feeding chickens or dusting. I think you can have everything, Honey." She grinned.

Honey smiled back at her. "Now Trixie, you know you really enjoy having Brian and Mart around. And Bobby is certain to miss you."

Seven year old Bobby Belden was quite a handful, but all the Bob-Whites adored him.

Trixie sniffed. "He’s Brian’s problem this weekend. And I do mean problem, because he will have to keep the little nuisance from bothering Mart, on account of his studying for his final exams. Mart, I mean, not Bobby."

Honey laughed at her friend’s roundabout way of talking. "I can’t believe Mart and Dan will be graduating next year, already."

Miss Trask shook her head and smiled. "Time has gone rather quickly, hasn’t it. We are almost to the Saw Mill Parkway. Would either of you girls like to take the wheel?"

Honey shook her head. "No, thank you. Driving on the highway still frightens me."

"I haven’t had enough driving time yet," said Trixie ruefully. "I’ve only had my license for a week, and even with my permit, there hasn’t been enough time to practice."

"Honey, you do need to get some more experience. I think you would be more comfortable with it if you hadn’t hit that ice patch when you were learning." Miss Trask smiled gently at her.

Long ago, Miss Trask was hired as a governess. Now that Honey was older, most of her duties involved the day to day running of the Manor House, but she was never too busy to serve as chaperone for the Bob-White’s many adventures.

"Honey will get the hang of driving yet." Trixie turned to look at her. "You learned to ride a bike down that steep driveway of yours pretty quickly, if I recall."

Honey made a face at her. "I recall taking the skin off both my knees in the process," she replied..

Trixie just laughed. "Now that Jim is home, he’ll have you driving circles around me. He and Brian have just been too busy to give driving lessons, what with finishing up their freshman year of college. And ever since the time I went through that stop sign, Mart refuses to get in the car with me."

Honey shook with laughter. "I remember that lesson well." She turned to look at her governess. "Mart had been giving directions to Trixie, and he told her to go straight through the intersection."

Trixie blushed self-consciously. "He forgot to tell me to stop first. I figured if he said go straight through, I could ignore the stop sign…." she joined in the laughter from the front seat.

Miss Trask smiled at her in the rear view mirror.

"That was my first time driving on real roads. The next time I did much better," she said, wiping her eyes. "Thank goodness Dan was patient enough to pick up where Mart left off."

She grinned at Honey. "I am counting on Jim to give me some gear shifting pointers, though. Where is that red-headed brother of yours anyway?" she asked, pretending to look around the back seat for him.

Honey giggled at her friend’s antics. "You know perfectly well Jim promised to drive mother to Greystone Estate this morning, since Daddy is taking the train in from work." Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "Although I’m sure he would rather have accompanied us, instead."

Trixie blushed slightly. She considered the handsome seventeen-year-old rather special; a feeling that was returned by Jim, although neither one would admit it out loud. Honey liked to encourage it, but couldn’t resist teasing her best friend about it now and then.

Trixie hurriedly changed the subject. "Why don’t you tell me more about the estate?" she asked. " I’ve been curious about it all week. I know it’s been in your family for generations, but which part of the family?" she asked.

"My great-aunt, Emmeline Grey still lives there. You’ll really like her. She will be ninety-two this summer, but still runs the estate. Her two sisters were my mother’s mother and my great-Aunt Martha." Honey threw her hands up in the air. "It would be easier just to show you the family tree when we get there."

"She can’t really miss it, Honey," said Miss Trask. "There is a beautiful calligraphy of the whole family tree framed and hanging in the front hall of the manor."

Honey smiled at Trixie. "I can just guarantee you that almost everyone I introduce you to will be some sort of aunt, uncle or cousin of mine, twice removed or something."

Trixie smiled back at her. "How can you remember all the names of people you only see two or three times every couple of years?"

"Well, let's see. You’ve met Ben Riker." She gave Trixie another mischievous look.

Trixie merely rolled her eyes at the name of Honey’s practical joke loving cousin. Once, while visiting Sleepyside, he had caused a real strain in the two girl’s friendship. And long ago, Trixie had even pretended to have a crush on him so she could secretly help Brian buy his old jalopy. She reddened at the awful memory.

"And there is my second cousin Heather, who is really the reason for this spring get together." Honey stopped suddenly and grew quiet.

"It’s been a tradition in Honey’s mother’s family to have a debutante weekend when one of the daughters turns eighteen." said Miss Trask.

Trixie leaned forward, curious. "What kind of weekend?"

"It’s sort of a welcoming party when a young lady enters society. She ‘debuts’ and tea is given on the lawn, and later a large party is held, usually inviting the eligible young men of prominence." She shook her head. "In my opinion, it’s a bit old fashioned, but it’s a family tradition."

Trixie made a face.

Honey sighed and looked at her friend. "We won’t be dressed up all weekend, Trixie. Hopefully the weatherman will be correct for once and the weather will be nice." The sparkle returned to her soft hazel eyes. "Wait until you see the topiary gardens. And the house itself is practically a castle. I used to be scared of all the long halls when I was younger. It’s a really old house, most of the neighborhood estates are too."

"Are you thinking of the Brownestone estate, Honey?" Miss Trask said.

Honey nodded to the kind woman next to her. "It’s the mansion next door. The dividing line is somewhere in the garden." She stopped and looked back at Trixie. "The whole Brownestone estate is mysterious, but not as much as the garden."

And despite Trixie’s pleadings, she would say no more about it, only stating that Trixie would have to see it for herself. Frustrated, but glad that her friend had shaken off whatever was bothering her, Trixie sat back against the seat and enjoyed the scenery as they crossed the border into Connecticut.

 

*      *      *

Trixie sat down to catch her breath on one of the twin beds in the luxurious guest room she and Honey shared. The butler that carried their suitcases upstairs had quietly shut the door behind him, after informing the young ladies the hour of dinner that evening.

Honey was unpacking her suitcase, but Trixie just sat looking around the room, awestruck at her first impressions of Greystone Estate.

"I’m sort of glad everyone is taking a tour of the vineyard," said Honey, as she put clothing into the antique oak wardrobe standing majestically against the wall. "This will give us a time to unwind before you meet everyone."

"How could I possibly unwind? You said the estate was huge, but this is practically a palace! Imagine real suits of armor in the front hall! And the tapestries!" Trixie spread her hands wide, unable to express her excitement.

Honey gave her a small smile. "That’s why I couldn’t possibly describe the house to you. What did you think of the Brownestone Estate?"

Trixie shivered. "When we came over the hill to see that old house with its big iron gates, I thought we stepped into a mystery novel. Does anyone live there?"

Honey shook her head. "I don’t think so. Miss Emmeline can tell you the whole story, I only know bits and pieces." She turned to look at her friend. "You can put your clothes over here, and there’s plenty of space to hang your dresses." She gestured at the empty space inside the wardrobe.

Taking the hint, Trixie began to unpack. "I remember Miss Trask saying that the Greys and the Brownes used to be close friends, joining their properties."

"That’s right, Trixie. In fact, a large topiary garden and maze is along most of the border between the two houses. We can see it from our window…"

Trixie dropped her clothes and ran over to the large window seat between the two beds. Honey drew the lush drapes, and Trixie gasped at the sight below.

The outside terrace was a series of complex layers and walls, ending in a cobblestone area with several paths leading off into the large gardens. To the far left was a rose garden, with many different varieties, some in tree form, and several climbers working their way up over arbors. The bushes were green, but tulips and daffodils lined the stone pathways, captivating the girls with the waves of color.

On the far right, near the rear kitchen, a small herb and vegetable garden prevailed, almost out of Trixie’s sight. On the near right, a small Japanese garden, complete with stone pool and bridge, was a serene, shadowy nook, almost an outdoor chapel.

But the main attraction was the topiary and perennial garden, bushes trimmed in a precise fashion, some resembling animals, and some merely pleasing shapes. Beyond the initial opening to the garden, three stone paths entered a complex labyrinth composed of stone walls and trimmed boxwood, which gently sloped down hill. A few lush trees and statues rose like ancient sentinels from the maze, hanging over the twisting paths and dead ends within the walls.

Honey smiled at her friend standing next to her, blue eyes wide and hands pressed against the glass.

"For a garden maze, it’s pretty complex. I would never go in by myself when I was younger," she said.

Trixie nodded, not turning from the sight. "It’s wonderful! I can see that you can get in and out by all three of the paths. I can’t wait to explore it! You can tell where the property line is from here," she said, pointing to where the paths gently sloped downhill to the Brownestone property. The maze on the Brownestone side was overgrown and the stone lanes were hard to pick out. "I wonder where the paths come out on the other side of the labyrinth."

Honey turned from the window. "I guess to the patio of the other estate, but I’m not interested in going that far. From the looks of those paths, the Minotaur could be living down there."

Trixie laughed and picked up her clothes from where she had flung them. "It looks like mysterious mythical creatures would roam in that thicket, doesn’t it? I wonder why the Browne family has let it get so overgrown. I wonder.... " she paused, frowning at the bottom of her empty suitcase. "Oh, brother!" she said disgustedly.

"What’s wrong?"

Trixie ran a hand through her curls. "I guess I thought I was going to your house," she said sheepishly. "I forgot to pack my pajamas."

Honey laughed. "Never fear, Miss Trask packed my suitcase, and she always puts in more clothes than three girls could wear in one weekend." She handed Trixie a dainty nightgown. "Not your usual flannel pjs, but…"

Trixie grinned ruefully as she put it away in the drawer. " I know, beggars can’t be choosers. I suppose since I will be dressing up all weekend, I can sleep in a dress, too."

Honey laughed at her tomboy friend’s predicament. "Right now we’d better dress for dinner," she said, looking at the antique clock on the dresser.

"Do you think we will have time to explore a bit downstairs before then? I want to look at that family tree again before I meet all your relatives." She pulled her sweater over her head and looked at her bare arm thoughtfully. "Maybe I could make a few notes to help me remember everyone.’

Honey shook with laughter. "I don’t think that’s necessary, Trixie. The only ones here tonight will be our family, Heather Moore, her older sister Dora and their mother, my aunt Constance. They have been living here with Miss Emmeline since Heather’s father died when she was six. Ben has been living here, too, and driving to his school. The only other people staying over will be my mother’s cousin Caroline and her husband, and Marie, who is some sort of second cousin, which makes me related in some way to her twin girls, Dee-Dee and Paige, who are both seventeen."

She brushed her shoulder length straight hair, looking thoughtfully in the mirror. "Marie just re-married last summer, and her new husband is Paul Spencer, of the real estate business. He has a son who is twenty-two." She put the brush on the dresser and straightened the collar of her dress. "I think his name is William. I haven’t met him yet. Everyone else will be arriving for the tea tomorrow afternoon."

Trixie sighed and tried to fasten a dainty necklace with a small teardrop emerald pendant. It was a sweet sixteen gift from her Aunt Alicia, who never seemed to notice Trixie’s tomboyish demeanor, insisting on giving her niece ladylike gifts on all occasions.

Giving up, she waited impatiently while Honey’s slim fingers fastened the small catch for her.

"I’m sorry to torture you all weekend, Trix," the taller girl said. "But I’m really glad you came along. I don’t really know my cousins all that well, because I was so sickly when I was younger. I really don’t know how Heather feels about her debut. My governess I had before Miss Trask didn’t let me go to Dora’s parties; I spent most of that weekend staring out the window down at the lawn from my bedroom."

Trixie squeezed her arm sympathetically.

Honey smiled. "I was so shy then, I didn’t really mind missing the party much."

They linked arms and strolled out into the long hallway.

"Well, I wouldn’t call you shy now, Honey Wheeler," Trixie replied. "And I am glad you asked me. But I just think that fighting the minotaur in the labyrinth would be easier than dressing up all weekend."

And she stopped to make a face at Honey in the great antique mirror at the end of the hallway.

Giggling, they made their way down the stairs to the lower level. Coming down the curving stairs, Trixie could see maids setting a great table with shining silver through the far doors.

Tall windows let the setting sunlight drift lazily through, creating beams of light falling upon marble sculptures and intricately carved furniture. A baby grand piano sat in one corner of the room. The opposite wall held two iron and glass door leading out to the upper terrace, overlooking the gardens.

Trixie walked shyly through the plush surroundings. "Do you think we have time to go out on the terrace before dinner?"

Honey nodded. "I see Miss Trask talking to Mrs. Phillips by the stone benches. Mrs. Phillips is Miss Emmeline’s assistant, and her husband is in charge of the landscaping."

Trixie grinned. "And that’s no small task," she said, following her out the door.

They joined the two women by the upper wall of the terrace, and looked out over the gardens. Mrs. Philips was a jolly sort of person, and Trixie immediately felt at ease with her. She was telling them about the plants coming into bloom, and their plans for adding a butterfly garden and gazebo to the estate.

Trixie was fascinated by the closer view of the intricate garden. Honey pointed to a group of bushes by the rose garden shaped to look like a team of horses, jumping out of the labyrinth. From that path emerged a tall red-headed young man, walking beside a slim blonde girl wearing pink.

Glancing up at the porch, Jim Frayne smiled broadly and waved at them. He said something to his walking companion and they hurried to the upper level. Trixie waved back, and turned her eye to see another tall young man, this one blonde and impeccably dressed, emerge from the path nearest to the perennial garden.

Honey shook her head. "It looks like Ben grew a couple more inches since last fall. I’ll bet he’s taller than Jim now."

Trixie sniffed. "I wonder if he is half as mature yet."

Honey smiled. "Ben’s come a long way since you last saw him."

They turned slightly as another figure appeared on the farthest path of the labyrinth. A young man in his early twenties, with dark wavy hair strode towards the front of the house, giving a brief glance to the people on the terrace, revealing a handsome face. He turned out of their sight as Jim and Honey’s cousin made their way over to the girls. Heather Moore floated gracefully over to her cousin, hugging her and then Trixie as she was introduced.

"I’m so glad you could come with Honey this weekend," she said to Trixie with a soft, lilting voice. Heather was no taller than Trixie, with pale blonde waves of hair gathered away from a delicate face. Her light blue eyes shone with delight at the thought of the weekend before her.

Trixie couldn’t help a small pang of jealousy watching the graceful and feminine demeanor of Honey’s cousin as she walked with the two older ladies into the house.

"Your cousin seems ready for this weekend," she remarked to Honey, as they watched her slip inside the house.

Jim chuckled. "Heather certainly is. She’s been talking nonstop about it all afternoon."

Honey and Trixie giggled as he made talking motions with his hands.

"Have you seen the maze yet, Trix?" he asked as they headed inside. "This has been my first time inside it. The weather never cooperated the other times I’ve been here."

"Well, let’s hope you aren’t going to jinx the weather this weekend," Honey told her brother. "Aunt Constance is counting on it being sunny for tomorrow’s tea on the lawn."

Trixie winked at Honey. "I don’t know, Honey. I’ve never heard of a red-headed jinx before, but now that you mention it…."

"Humph," was Jim’s reply. "I reckon you won’t think me such bad luck when it comes to rescuing you two from the depths of the labyrinth, where you are sure to become inexorably lost."

Trixie raised an eyebrow at him. "For your information, smarty, the Belden-Wheeler detective agency can find its way out of any topiary maze faster than any red-headed jinx."

Honey nodded, giggling. "Just because we needed rescuing in the past, doesn’t mean we always will need to be rescued. Not that we never appreciated it," she added hastily,"because we do. It’s just that sometimes we might not need to be rescued when you think we do."

Jim held out his hands as to ward her off. "Please, Honey, your conversations have more twists that that garden outside."

Laughing, the trio entered the dining room and joined Miss Trask and Mrs. Philips, and stout, graying man with a bushy mustache, who was introduced as Mr. Philips.

The only other person in the dining room was an elderly lady sitting at the head of the table, her white hair gathered in a soft bun. With a large cameo brooch clasped on a gray cashmere sweater; Miss Emmeline had a regal and dignified air around her that matched her elegant surroundings.

Miss Trask introduced Trixie to the elderly matriarch, and Trixie was relieved to find Honey’s great Aunt had a warm smile, and pleasant demeanor.

"I’m so very glad to meet you, Trixie. Honey has told me a great deal about you and your adventures." She paused as Heather came into the room and handed her great aunt a pair of glasses. "Thank you, dear." She smiled at her lovely grandniece, then leaned closer to Trixie. "You must tell me all about your detective work after dinner," she said in a confidential whisper. Trixie smiled at her, sure now that she would like the older lady.

Honey’s parents entered the room, then, followed by a lovely woman who resembled Mrs. Wheeler and a young lady with golden blonde hair like Honey’s, worn in a stylish bob. Her glasses gave her a studious look, and she was much taller than her younger sister. In fact, Trixie wouldn’t have guessed that Dora and Heather were related, except for the fact that they both moved with such quiet grace.

Dora nodded politely to the guests as everyone seated themselves at the long mahogany table. Jim held Trixie’s chair, than sat next to her across from Honey, who was next to her mother.

A tall balding man was next to enter, and held a chair for a large woman with a lot of makeup on. They were introduced as Caroline and David Scott. As they were being seated, two dark haired girls rushed into the room, Trixie guessing they were the Spencer twins. They were followed by Ben Riker and the handsome dark haired youth from the garden, introduced as William Spencer, and finally Marie and Paul Spencer arrived as the maids began serving the meal.

Trixie enjoyed her garden salad with raspberry vinaigrette as she looked around the table, smiling to herself listening to one of the Spencer girls telling Jim about the spring dance at their New England prep school. Jim was wisely just nodding, realizing that trying to answer questions or comment other than a quick "mmm-hmm" would be futile.

She turned her gaze down the table to Paul Spencer, a medium sized man with thinning brown hair. He was deep in conversation with Mr. Scott and Honey’s father about real estate and land values, and was not so much eating his salad as stabbing it with his fork to emphasize a point about some sort of market or percentage rate. They turned their heads as William Spencer added a fact about value of land into the conversation, his voice a pleasant tenor, liquid brown eyes under dark brows, intense with his subject’s point. Across the table, Honey paused to gaze at the young man, barely touching her salad.

Catching her eye, Trixie raised an eyebrow at her, and to her amazement, her best friend blushed slightly and stared down at her plate. At the other end of the table, she could hear Mrs. Wheeler and her sister discussing the last minute details of the tea party, Heather happily joining in.

Sitting quietly among the group was Ben Riker. Honey was right, Ben had grown taller. His blonde hair was cut in the latest style, and he usually dressed to match. Trixie guessed that most girls would find him handsome, she just couldn’t overlook his long history of practical jokes to ever think too much of Ben Riker.

Trixie frowned at the young man, watching him pick at his salad, his hazel eyes staring off into space. He certainly wasn’t the person she last remembered at Honey’s house, telling jokes and emptying his plate, both at rapid speed.

Looking up, he noticed her staring at him, and reddened slightly at her scrutiny. Trixie braced for a smart remark, having been caught looking at him, but instead he looked down at his plate. She stared down at her own, starting as the maid cleared the plates for the next course.

I wonder what is bothering him, she thought, He is acting pretty mysterious. She glanced up to find Jim looking at her while nodding his head at Paige. She smiled at him, knowing he would just roll his eyes and tell her that she had mystery-itis on the brain.

She looked across the table and gave Honey an I-need-to-talk-to-you look. Satisfied with Honey’s answering nod, Trixie settled comfortably in her chair to enjoy the sumptuous meal.

*     *     *

"And the young girl with amnesia turned out to be the missing heiress?" Miss Emmeline leaned forward in her chair, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Trixie and Honey, sitting on a nearby divan, nodded enthusiastically.

"And then her fiancé came from Holland, and they got married in the garden at Manor House," Trixie continued.

"And Madeline’s charge got a living relative," Miss Emmeline said thoughtfully, looking over through an archway into the adjoining room at Jim joining in the laughter at the card table, where he and the other young people were involved in a fast moving game.

Miss Emmeline and the girls were seated in the other end of the comfortable study. Trixie was enjoying discussing her and Honey’s many cases, and had just finished the story of how they discovered Jim’s cousin, Juliana, now living in Holland.

A burst of laughter from the table interrupted Trixie’s thoughts, and she stole a glance at the others at the table. Heather seemed to be winning the latest round, being teased by Jim and William Spencer about stacking the deck to her advantage because it was her weekend.

"You girls certainly have had so many nice adventures happen to you. How exciting!" Miss Emmeline paused to take a sip of her herb tea. "I still can’t get over how much you have changed, Honey." She patted her gently on the arm. "To think of the little girl too timid to go out into the garden being part of all those adventures."

Honey smiled at her great-aunt. "I’m not really brave, Miss Emmeline, but Trixie is. I’m so lucky we moved in next to the Beldens."

Trixie grinned at them. "I’m the lucky one and you know it, Honey. The Manor House had been empty for so long I guess I gave up hope of ever having a neighbor my age, let alone one with a stable full of horses."

Miss Emmeline smiled at the girls. "I remember when we used to have neighbors out here. What lovely times we had." She looked out the window into the warm evening.

The nearly full moon shone over the quiet garden, the white pebbles in the Japanese garden glowing softly under the picturesque little bridge and small trees. In the distance, the silhouette of the Brownestone manor could be seen.

"The people who lived at the Browne Estate?" asked Trixie.

The older lady nodded. "Our families were quite close. The Grey family traces its roots back to England, and the Brownes were from Scotland. I can still remember old Angus Browne playing the bagpipes every Sunday morning, standing back of the house with the morning mist all around." She settled back into her chair. "Sometimes when the valley is covered with the fog I think I can almost hear the pipes droning away." Her eyes twinkled mischievously.

"Were you friends with any of the Brownes?" inquired Honey.

"Oh, yes. Charlotte Browne and I were quite close. We went to the same school together and we used to play all sorts of games when we were very young. We would act out Shakespeare’s plays by the big statue in the middle of the garden, and imagine we were wood sprites in the early twilight. What fun we had!"

She leaned forward to whisper, "We used to pull pranks on her older brother, John. He was always so mean to the help, so we would play tricks on him. One time I climbed a tree and dropped berries on him while he was trying to court Miss Simmons in the garden. I got several right down the back of his neck. Charlotte said there were berry stains all over his good shirt after that."

Trixie giggled at the mental image of the elderly lady perched in a tree, dropping berries on an unsuspecting young suitor.

"Was the maze there when you were young, Miss Emmeline?" she asked.

"Yes, we used to have such fun in there. I seem to remember a hiding place in the wall…." she frowned and rubbed her forehead. "Things aren’t as clear at my age as they should be. Well," she continued, "I have too many years to remember, Mrs. Philips says I get my history mixed up with my plays sometimes." She chuckled softly. "But when you have had a life as long as mine in the theatre, I guess the two are really combined, aren’t they?"

She paused to take another sip of tea.

"I think there was a hiding place in one of the walls that we would use to get out of John’s way when he would be in one of his rages. You see," she continued, "Charlottes parents died in an accident then, and John was in charge of the household. He was not very good at it, I’m afraid." She shook her head sadly at the memories.

"How awful," murmured Honey. "What happened to your friend?"

"John had let go most of their staff and hired cheaper workers, due to his gambling debts he was rapidly accumulating. Only the kitchen staff and Old Mr. Smythe, the groundskeeper remained. Things went on like that for a while, and Charlotte and I graduated from school. That summer, Mr. Smythe’s son came to help with the grounds."

She smiled at the two girls, absorbed in the tale. "Daniel Smythe was a strong young man with good character, and Charlotte was in love with him at first sight. John, of course, did not approve of such a match, Daniel was only a groundskeeper’s son, not a very high rank in our social circle of the time."

Trixie and Honey sat with wide eyes waiting for her to continue.

"They courted in secret in the gardens, hiding notes in the nooks and crannies of the walls. When John would not consent to Charlotte marrying Daniel, they eloped on a warm spring night like this one. John was in a rage for days, sending people out to find them, but he never did."

"Did you hear from them again?" asked Trixie.

Miss Emmeline looked out into the garden again. "Charlotte sent me letters occasionally. I seem to remember they had a son." She stopped, brow furrowed. " I went traveling abroad for several years after that. I returned to the sad news that my friends had died in a fire."

Trixie gazed at the distant property, thinking about the tragic story.

"What about John Browne?" asked Honey softly.

"He died years afterward in Boston, over a fight about some debt owed. Since he had never left a will, the properties were left to Wilhelm Smythe, Daniel’s much younger brother who was only three when his brother eloped. When his father retired, Wilhelm took care of the property. He kept the estate looking lovely until his death two years ago."

Slowly she rose from her chair and stared out at the gardens. "I never had much time for romance in my life, always busy with the theatre. But I have always enjoyed seeing the blooms that come to life in our little garden." She pointed a fragile hand at the sight of Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler strolling arm and arm under a wisteria covered archway. Trixie and Honey joined her at the window, enjoying the pleasant picture.

Miss Emmeline smiled gently at Honey. "I remember when Matthew proposed to your mother, right in the middle of the rose garden on a sweet July evening. And your Grandmother was married over there by the terrace." She looked out over at the maze one last time and turned slowly from the window. "So many little stories in one place, decades of romances overlapping each other. Sometimes on a warm summer night, I can see Charlotte moving in and out of the boxwood, a gentle sprite meeting her ghostly suitor."

The sounds of the card game coming to an end filtered into the room, and Miss Emmeline and Honey moved forward to talk with the retiring players.

Trixie stood transfixed gazing out at the gardens, shivering at the last bit of poetry Honey’s great-aunt had given them. A slight breeze stirred over the garden, making the overhanging trees and walls seemingly come to life.

Trixie sighed, imagining the meeting of Charlotte and her lover somewhere within the ivy covered walls and crumbling statues. She imagined a young girl, searching the boxwood barriers for a note or hidden sign to a meeting place.

Suddenly, she snapped to attention. Someone was moving through the maze! Leaning closer to the glass, she saw a lithe figure darting back and forth, stopping at one of the walls, then turning out of sight down another path.

Trixie turned her eyes to the far right as the head of another figure bobbed around a corner, then disappeared. Concentrating on following the first figure as it moved into sight again, she gave a small cry of surprise as a hand touched her left shoulder. Jumping back, she almost got tangled in the heavy draperies as she looked to see the surprise on Jim’s freckled face.

"I didn’t mean to startle you, Trix," he said good-naturedly as she caught her breath. "What’s wrong?" He chuckled. "I hate to say it, but you look like you just saw a ghost."

She pointed at the gardens. "I just may have. What do you think of that?"

He peered out over the scene. "Just looks like Ben Riker scraping mud off his shoes."

Trixie whirled back to the window. Sure enough, there was Ben, sitting on one of the stone benches, scraping something off his shoes. Trixie bit her lip. What is he doing out there? she thought. She stared at his tall form as he walked back to the house. Ben was too big to be the person darting through the hedges.

"So what’s so mysterious about Ben’s muddy feet?" demanded Jim.

Trixie looked out over the garden again for any movement. "I saw something moving out there," she said hesitantly.

Jim laughed and drew the curtain shut. "Everything looks mysterious out there when a breeze goes through. Even in the daytime." He grinned at her. "I understand that Miss Emmeline’s gift for storytelling is still strong."

Trixie sighed as they walked towards the rest of the group. "You can say that again."

Deciding to change the subject, she remarked, "I’m really looking forward to going to the play tomorrow night."

Jim nodded. "A Midsummer Night’s Dream is one of old Will’s best."

Honey joined them in the study as they bade goodnight to the rest of the group.

"I’m looking forward to a midspring’s dream right now," she yawned.

Trixie suddenly realized how tired she was. Saying their good nights, the two girls walked up to their room.

While Honey brushed her teeth, Trixie stared out over the garden once more. Another breeze made the trees sway back and forth.

I know I saw a figure and not a tree, she thought, At least, I think I did. She turned from the window, letting the curtain close behind her, trying to ignore that familiar shiver down her spine, warning her of another mystery.

Part II

"Excuse me, young lady."

Trixie smiled politely at the large woman edging her way past. Narrowly avoiding spilling a cup of punch on herself in the process, she decided to head for a calmer area of the lawn.

The sun was shining brightly over the gay party, servants and caterers dressed in black and white mingling with the many women in their pastel dresses, standing around the patio like clusters of spring blossoms.

Trixie sat down on one of the stone benches to catch her breath and observe the tea.

Honey and Jim had been busy greeting family members with their parents for most of the morning. Trixie was sure she would never remember all the people she had met so far that day.

She surveyed the people gathered around the table, watching Mr. Scott nodding absentmindedly at his wife while giving his full attention to the scones and cakes on his plate.

Miss Trask was assisting Mrs. Philips in some of the hostess duties, Trixie noticed almost enviously, wishing she do something other than sit and have "tea".

"Isn’t it just lovely today?" Paige Spencer and her sister bounced over to Trixie and sat on the bench with her.

"Heather is so lucky. When my friend Lisa had her tea and weekend, it just poured the whole time," chimed in Dee-Dee.

"Well, I just can’t wait until tomorrow night." Paige jumped up from the bench and started dancing.

"I know. I wish we didn’t have to go see some stupid play tonight. What was it? Summer Dreams or something?" Dee-Dee pouted.

Trixie fought back a smile. "A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I’m sort of looking forward to going to Miss Emmeline’s theater in town," she said.

Paige stopped twirling around. "Well, maybe there will be some cute actors."

"Yes, and maybe Miss Emmeline knows them!" added her sister, jumping up from the bench. "Let’s go ask her!"

Trixie chuckled to herself as the two flighty girls ran down the slope in search of the elderly matriarch.

"Those two are something else, aren’t they?" a deep voice quietly resonated from behind her.

Trixie turned to see William Spencer, holding a plate and a cup of coffee, standing there.

"May I sit down?" he asked.

"Sure, William." she said, moving over to make room on the bench for the young man.

"Call me Bill, everyone does," he said, smiling broadly, revealing a set of perfect white teeth. He sat down and offered her biscotti.

Trixie shook her head politely at him.

Brushing a wisp of dark hair from his forehead, he proceeded to dunk a piece of the cookie into his coffee.

Trixie observed the sculptured face next to her. She couldn’t blame Honey for being distracted at dinner last night. William Spencer was almost too handsome. She found herself watching his fingers as he dunked the biscotti. His hands were on the smaller size, delicate, with tapered fingers that were nearly pointy at the tips.

Trixie tried to recall what the book about fingerprints and palmistry she had borrowed from the Sleepyside library had said about characteristics of people with those types of hands. I’ll have to ask Honey if she remembers.

William’s rich voice broke into her train of thought.

"My step sisters can be overwhelming until you get used to them. I’m a bit overwhelmed in this crowd myself."

Trixie smiled at him. "Me too. I didn’t know Honey had so many relatives!"

He sipped at his coffee. "Most are distant relatives here for the business end of the party." At Trixie’s quizzical look, he continued. "You see that group of men over there?" he asked, pointing to four men deep in conversation by a small fountain. "They are making casual conversation, hoping to go home with a good tip for the stock market."

"At a debutante tea?"

Bill gave her an amused glance. "I’m afraid most business isn’t conducted in the offices. It’s done at dinner, on the golf course, and at weddings and even funerals. I myself am not above it, I plan to find out some information about some properties I am interested in."

Trixie shook her head in amazement "Isn’t that tiring, taking your work with you wherever you go?"

He stood up and brushed the crumbs from his lap. "Not at all, I enjoy the thrill of the hunt. I guess I will see you at the play this evening, Trixie?"

She nodded. "I wouldn’t miss it." She looked at him thoughtfully. "I guess that would be another good place for information, too."

He grinned. "Now you’re catching on. If you will excuse me...."

She grinned back at him. "Happy hunting." She waved as he strolled away towards a group in animated conversation.

Trixie drained the last of her punch and gazed out at the topiary garden. Many times it had been suggested that she often took her detective work with her wherever she went. Or as Jim had put it, "always wearing her schoolgirl shamus badge".

She frowned slightly. It was true that she often practiced her observation skills, and was always ready to drop everything at the scent of a new mystery.

I wonder, she thought, do I, too, like the thrill of the hunt too much?

Sighing, she stared wistfully at the closest entrance to the mysterious garden. The tall cedar bushes by the middle entrance were trimmed into identical pointed plumes that would waver in the slightest breeze. They seemed to beckon softly to her, to come and explore the twisting paths, the ivy covered walls.

Trixie shifted uncomfortably on the bench and stood up. The party dress she was wearing had the tendency to make her itch after a while, and was now becoming unbearable. She scowled a bit as her daydream of crawling into hidden nooks in the extensive property and discovering long-lost treasure faded.

Wandering over to leave her empty plate and cup with the caterers, she scanned the crowd for Honey.

In one corner of the verandah, Mr. Wheeler and Jim were talking to Mr. Philips and a group of gentleman. Trixie smiled fondly as she noticed that Jim was feeding crumbs to several birds, and a chipmunk even came close to his feet. A natural woodsman, Jim had a way about him that wild animals seemed to trust.

At home he even had a catbird that was nearly a pet, pouncing down at him whenever Jim was outdoors, much to the dismay of his hunting dog, Patch.

Yet, outdoorsman that he was, he was also quite studious. Having won a scholarship at age fifteen, he did two years of school in one and just completed his freshman year of college, all before his eighteenth birthday which would be in the coming July.

Shifting again in the uncomfortable dress, Trixie groaned to even think about college.

I will be eighteen when I graduate high school. And that’s only if I keep my grades up.

Trixie surveyed the rest of the party, finally spotting Honey and her mother sitting amid a group of ladies in quiet conversation. Mrs. Wheeler was a lovely but delicate woman, and Honey seemed to resemble her more and more each day, except for the fact that Honey was quite tan from the outdoor activities that she loved so much, and preferred to dress in dungarees like her friends. Right now, though, Honey was in a pale green dress of thin cotton, looking very much like the daughter of a wealthy society matron.

Wandering through the waning crowd, Trixie wondered what the future would be like for her best friend, born into this world of garden parties and social circles. The sound of her name being called interrupted her thoughts.

"Trixie," Miss Emmeline motioned her over to the bench where the elderly matriarch was sitting with Ben Riker, "I observed you looking out at the gardens all morning. I’ll wager you would like to explore them." The elderly lady’s eyes sparkled at the young detective.

Trixie blushed slightly. "Does my curiosity show that plainly?" she asked sheepishly.

"That’s alright, child. Ben was just saying he would like to be excused to search for a tie tack he lost last night in the maze. Since he is familiar with my gardens, he could give you a tour, and you can use your gift to help him find his lost item."

Trixie looked over at Ben, who seemed less than thrilled at the idea, but stood and said, "Riker tours, that’s me. Sorry we are all out of maps, but be sure to tip your guide anyway."

Miss Emmeline chuckled at her grandnephew’s antics. "Oh, Ben. If only you weren’t so tall, you would be the perfect Puck for this evening. Go and find your tie-clip." Waving her hands, she shooed them off in the direction of the garden.

Trixie strode in silence next to the tall lad. He pointed out a few of the more interesting statues and topiaries in the perennial garden, then lapsed into silence as they neared the entrance of the maze.

She stole a quick glance at him, walking next to her with an air of distraction.

He is acting mysterious. She thought. A small smile played around the corners of her mouth. And here I am with opportunity to find out why. I guess I do like the hunt.

Ben looked down at her. "What are you smiling about?"

"I’m just happy to be finally going into the labyrinth," she replied.

"Ah, that’s right. The infamous Sherlock Belden." Affecting a stage voice, he waved his hands menacingly and said, "Abandon all hope ye who enter."

Not knowing whether to be amused or annoyed with him, she brushed past Ben and stepped into the maze.

 *     *     *

A slight breeze made the branches of the boxwood hedges rustle together eerily as Trixie stopped just inside the archway and looked around at the entrance to the maze. The light cobblestone path veered off in two different directions around a dense hedge standing directly in front of her.

Part of the maze was made of neatly trimmed boxwood and other evergreens. The rest of the barriers were walls of stone, some of brick, and most covered with ivy and other decorative vines.

Off to the left, she could almost make out a statue. Her attention was soon focused right, as Ben Riker pushed past her and began to walk at a fast pace in that direction. Trixie hurried to follow, almost jogging to keep pace with his long stride.

"Not so fast!" she panted. They had made a few sharp turns and already Trixie was unsure which way the exit was. They made a quick right, and Ben stopped short, causing Trixie to bump into him.

"Ouch!" Trixie rubbed her nose and looked up at him reproachfully. Ben halted under an old black pine tree leaning gracefully over the path.

"This tree is a marker out of the maze." He pointed down a path on the right. "If you follow that, you will end up near the Japanese garden." He began to walk in the opposite direction, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

"Wait!" She started after him, stopping still as he half turned to look at her. "Don’t you want any help finding your tie tack?"

"What? No, I mean, that’s ok, thanks, I’ve got it." He turned and hastily went down the path again.

Trixie narrowed her eyes, and followed him past a weeping cherry tree, just beginning to go into full bloom. "Is that it for the tour, then? I thought we would go a little further in."

He stopped again, hesitating with his back still towards her. Slowly he turned and walked back to her.

"Look," he finally said when he came closer, "this maze has gotten pretty overgrown and wild near the center. You’ll probably want to just stick to the edges, to be safe."

Not quite looking at her eyes, he continued, "There’s nothing really interesting in here, except for a bunch of crumbly old walls and nests of field mice. Go on back to the party." He started to go again.

Trixie fiddled with a branch of the cherry tree. "You’re right, Ben, I don’t want to go get caught up in some vines or something. I guess you can find that cuff link by yourself."

Watching him out of the corner of one eye, she turned as if to leave.

Visibly showing relief, he smiled and waved her on, starting down the path again.

"That’s right, I’m pretty sure where I left it. Thanks anyway!" He waved and nodded once more, then disappeared down the twisting path.

Trixie watched him go, then made herself mentally count to 5 before following him.

Ben certainly was up to something. Cuff link or tie tack my eye!

She turned left where he had turned.

I’ll bet he’s going to pull some prank on Heather. That would be just like him. Still…

Leaving that thought unexpressed, Trixie came to a fork in the path.

Which way to go? She stood still, listening.

Somewhere off to the right, something rustled in the thick hedge. Probably just a rabbit.

Trixie smiled to herself as the sound of footsteps echoed off to the left.

Gotcha! she thought.

Hurrying in that direction, she saw someone turn left near the end of a stone wall. Walking on tiptoe as not to make a sound, she hugged the wall down to the end and cautiously peeked around the corner. A small open area greeted her, with a large statue of a Greek goddess in the middle of the clearing. Trixie’s breath caught as she sensed a figure moving on the other side of the ivy covered statue.

I must be near the dividing line, she thought, noticing the grass and vines were thicker on the paths downhill from the statue. Silently, she leaned closer, still hidden in the shadow and ivy of the wall.

The mysterious figure seemed to be hunting something in the vines near the base of the statue. Trixie held her breath as a girl, dressed in white stepped into view.

Dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail accented a pixie-like face, which was deep in concentration searching through the vines. She moved with an almost surreal grace, pausing every couple of seconds to tap the base of the statue. Finally, after working her way around the base twice, she stood back, shoulders slumping dejectedly. Shaking her head, she darted off down one of the overgrown paths on the lower side and was quickly out of sight.

Trixie blinked. The girl in white had come and gone so quickly.

All thoughts of the party on the lawn far behind her, she started down the path on the Brownestone property.

 

 *      *      *

This isn’t just a labyrinth, it’s a jungle, thought Trixie as she pushed the overgrown honeysuckle and wisteria vines from away from her face. Stepping cautiously through the tall grass that had pushed its way in-between the cobblestones, she slowly followed the path the mysterious girl in white had taken.

Directly ahead, the wall ended, leaving her facing a wall of overgrown boxwood. Trixie looked left and right. Both ways seemed to dead end. She frowned, and took a few steps to the left.

That girl couldn’t have just disappeared. Puzzled, Trixie started to go back when she saw a space near the base of the hedge on the right. It was a small opening, just big enough to crawl through. Gathering her skirt tightly in one hand, Trixie knelt to explore the small tunnel.

The vegetation was thick, but someone had obviously been using the narrow passageway recently. Trying to be as quiet as possible and crawl through the underbrush in her good dress was not a simple task.

Thank goodness Mart isn’t here to see this, she grimaced. The snapping of a twig made her stop just short of coming out of the other side. Peering through the thick branches, Trixie saw another small clearing, this one with a small stone bench, and a stone cupid balancing on the end of another wall that receded into the distance.

Another twig cracked, and footsteps echoed down a path off to the left, coming closer and stopping near the wall.

Craning her neck, Trixie saw the tall form of Ben Riker searching the base of the statue, finally pulling a piece of paper from under a rock resting there. Hastily reading the note and scowling at the contents, he crammed the paper into his pocket, and stalked off in the direction he had come from, muttering to himself.

Trixie waited until he was out of sight, then crawled out of the underbrush.

Spinning slowly in a circle, she surveyed the scene, deep in thought.

Was there some sort of scavenger hunt going on? Who was that girl? Why did Ben make up the story about the tie tack?

I have to talk to Honey.

"Honey!" she exclaimed out loud. Trixie slapped her forehead. The tea must be over by now, and everyone would be wondering where she was.

But where was she? Hurriedly, she crawled back through the underbrush, only to face three different paths. Which one had she come down? Trying not to panic, Trixie started down the middle one, looking for any familiar sights. Abruptly, the path twisted to the right, revealing a strange clearing.

Ok, don’t panic. I’m not on a downhill slope, so I must be close to the Greystone property line. Spotting a leaning old chestnut tree, she hurried over to it.

Maybe if I can get a birds-eye view of the maze, I can find my way out.

Jumping, she caught hold of a low branch, and swung herself up onto it, wincing as she heard part of her skirt tear. Climbing a little higher, she cautiously moved out onto a sturdy limb. To her right, she could see the overgrown Browne property stretching downhill, the once-magnificent estate looming behind the overgrown paths.

Leaning towards her left, she could see the paths of the Grey Estate; the caterers were packing up the tea, but a few groups of people were still milling about. Straddling the limb, she quickly memorized the route to follow to the garden exit.

Making her way down out of the tree, she scowled to see the blonde head of Ben Riker exiting the maze near the rose garden. Wait till she caught up with that cousin of Honey’s! She had a few questions for him.

Lost in thought about what she had seen in the labyrinth, Trixie climbed down to the next branch, hearing too late the creak of the old wood. With a resounding "snap!" the branch broke, depositing Trixie into a small hedge, and from there, into a patch of dirt.

Groaning, she blinked up at the blue sky. That was dumb, she thought. Painfully, she picked herself up from the ground, checking for broken bones.

Bruised, but ok, she sat up, fuming. Ben Riker is nothing but trouble.

She started walking towards the exit to the maze.

Who am I kidding, she thought, ruefully looking at her now dusty and torn dress. It’s all my fault I got lost, or as Mart would say, my overgrown bump of curiosity got me in trouble again.

"No, that’s not quite right," she said aloud. "Mart would say that disproportionate nodule upon my cranium brimming with inquisitiveness has brought tribulations anew."

Grinning in spite of herself, Trixie tried unsuccessfully to dust herself off, then gave up with a sigh. I hope most of the people have gone. I certainly don’t want to embarrass Honey by looking like such a goon. She bit her lip remorsefully. I guess I haven’t been a good guest, running off to chase mysteries.

Shaking her head, she kept walking, giving a sigh of relief as she recognized some of the landmarks near the entrance. Glad to be heading back, she quickened her pace, only to collide with Honey and Jim as she turned around the corner of one wall.

"Trixie! Are you alright?" Honey’s hazel eyes grew wide at the sight of her disheveled friend.

Trixie gulped and nodded. "You just knocked the wind out of me for a second, Honey."

Jim reached out an arm to steady her. "What happened? Everyone was leaving, and we didn’t see you anywhere."

"Then Miss Emmeline told us that Ben was showing you around the maze, but we just saw him come out of the garden. I called out to him, but I guess he didn't hear me."

Jim nodded. "That’s when we decided to start looking for you. What happened?"

Trixie surveyed her now dusty and torn dress. Self-consciously she ran her fingers through her hair, encountering leaves and twigs.

"Didn’t Ben show you the maze?" asked Honey, frowning.

"He did. We... we got separated, and I ended up having to climb a tree to find my way out. Unfortunately, I had a hasty exit from the tree," she said ruefully.

She put her hand out to stop Honey’s next question. "Nothing’s broken, I just bruised my dignity."

Jim shook his head and frowned. "Ben shouldn’t have left you alone in the gardens."

"It wasn’t his fault, Jim," she started to say, but Honey interrupted.

"Let’s not worry about that now. Trixie probably wants to get into a hot bath before we have to get ready for the show tonight."

Trixie smiled gratefully at her. "You’re right there, Honey. I’m afraid I am going to be feeling this tomorrow. And I am sorry I missed the end of the tea. I guess I haven’t been a very good guest," she said apologetically.

Honey linked arms with her as they started towards the large manor.

"Don’t think that at all Trixie. Jim and I were just saying how bad we felt greeting relatives and leaving you alone all morning."

"Still, you didn’t expect me to go falling out of trees," she replied, happy her friends weren’t angry with her.

Jim chuckled softly as they walked towards the large manor. "And I thought you were the tree climbing champion of Westchester County," he teased.

Trixie made a face at him. "I don’t usually wear my best party dress when I go tree climbing. You try it on for size, just for fun."

Jim held the door open for them and raised an eyebrow at her. "The dress or the tree?" he inquired.

Trixie finally broke into a smile. "Both. But wait until I have my camera with me."

Jim shook his head and grinned at her. Laughing, the two girls walked upstairs to their room.

 *      *      *

"But I don’t understand, Trixie." Honey was sitting on her bed, absently filing her nails. "What would Ben be doing holding a scavenger hunt in the maze at the same time as Heather’s tea?"

Trixie shrugged. Both girls were lounging in their robes before they dressed for the play. Trixie was attempting to get a comb through her still-wet curls. "That’s what it looked like he was doing. He certainly wasn’t telling the truth about having lost a tie-tack." She scowled as the comb got caught in a snarl. "Are you sure none of your relatives fits the description of that girl?"

Honey shook her head. "None that I know of. Almost all of the closer members of the family were there today. Except for Ben’s parents, all my aunts and uncles were there." Thoughtfully, she laid her head on her hands. "It’s a real shame that they moved to England. I overheard Mrs. Philips telling Miss Trask that they didn’t bother coming home to see Ben over Christmas holidays."

Trixie pulled at the knot in her hair. As much as she didn’t have much sympathy for Ben right now, she couldn’t imagine her family moving to another country and leaving her to stay at boarding schools and with relatives. A lot of Ben’s behavior in the past was related to trying to get his parents attention, mostly by practical jokes. She frowned. His recent behavior was just plain mysterious.

An idea came to her. "Honey, do you suppose Ben set the whole thing up just to fool me?"

"What do you mean?"

"The strange girl running around in the labyrinth. She seemed so unreal."

Honey put away her file and started dressing for the night’s outing. "I don’t think so, Trixie. Ben’s jokes are more on the silly side than the peculiar side. Can you zipper this?" She turned her back to Trixie. "And anyway, Ben has pretty much stopped with the jokes. Last time I saw him, he was pretty serious about pursuing a career in architecture."

Trixie was silent as she shrugged into her navy dress, trying to ignore a large bruise starting to form on her upper arm.

"Well I have some questions for Ben tonight. I’d like to know more about the Brownes. Do you think that Miss Emmeline can tell us some more stories?"

"Not this afternoon, I’m afraid. Mrs. Philips said she would need to rest before the theatre. She’s really looking forward to the opening of the play tonight." Honey smiled as she fastened a small pearl pin on her pale yellow dress.

"Would you like to see the den downstairs? It is full of pictures from Miss Emmeline’s career in the theatre. Miss Trask says that she performed at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre in London for several years, when she was much younger."

Trixie looked in the mirror, made a face at her reflection, and sighed. "Honey Wheeler, you are so lucky to have a relative like Miss Emmeline, someone with such a fascinating life."

Honey giggled. "Your life isn’t so dull, you know. Even at a boring tea party you manage to fall out of a tree and see ghosts."

Trixie looked up from checking her purse. "Do you really think I saw a ghost?" she asked, her eyes round at the thought.

Honey shrugged. "It was probably just someone from the village, exploring the famous local garden maze. Forget it, Trixie. And Ben probably just has a lot on his mind, which would explain his unusual behavior." She picked up her purse and a sweater, and led the way out of the room.

Trixie slowly followed. "I guess so," she said aloud.

But I still think something mysterious is going on, she added to herself as they walked downstairs.

Arriving in the comfortable den, they found Heather and Dora sitting on a soft leather sofa looking through an old family album.

Dora pointed out some of the family resemblances that seemed to go on for generations, and Heather took great fun in showing the girls Dora’s deb weekend.

Soon all four were chatting amicably, and looking over the many pictures, most framed, but some thumbtacked in clusters all around the room.

"And here is Miss Emmeline at the groundbreaking for the Grey Theatre here in town." Dora pointed to a more modern picture of the elderly thespian holding a shovel with a big bow, surrounded by the mayor and local acting troupe.

"She bought out the old theatre five years ago, and now people come from all over for the productions held there."

Heather giggled. "If Miss Emmeline could get around better, you can be sure that she would be up there on stage every week."

"And if Mother would permit it, so would you," remarked her sister.

"I will be there all summer, now that school is out," was the reply.

Trixie and Honey grinned at the exchange between the two sisters.

Trixie’s eyes roamed over the mementos of their great-aunt, most of them photographs of Miss Emmeline in the many roles she had played.

"Look," said Honey, "here she is as Titania. You look a bit like her here, Heather, when she has this long blonde wig on."

Heather smiled. "I hope to play the Queen of the Faeries someday, too."

Honey moved on to a wall full of portraits of people. "Do you know who all of these people are?" she asked her older cousin.

Dora adjusted her glasses. " I am familiar with most of them, but I do live here. If you look closer, Mrs. Philips has small pieces of paper labeling the portraits."

The girls moved closer. Honey pointed at a wedding picture of her parents, and her grandparents, standing in the rose garden of the estate.

Trixie giggled over a trio of men in costume holding comedy and tragedy masks, friends from a European tour of an acting company from sixty years ago.

Honey pulled her arm. "Look, Trix, here’s a picture of the Browne estate."

She pointed to a photograph of the large house, looking as neat and trim as the Grey estate always did.

Looking up, Trixie let out a gasp.

"Honey! There’s the girl I saw in the labyrinth!" She pointed to a photograph of two girls seated on one of the stone benches near a statue.

Honey stood on tiptoe to read the inscription, and turned to her friend with an incredulous look. "But that’s impossible, Trixie. According to this, that girl is Charlotte Browne!"

Part III

Trixie sat quietly in the plush theater seat. The troupe would certainly be performing to a packed house tonight, and most of the audience would be part of Miss Emmeline’s family. She looked around absently at the lush interior of the room, her mind still reeling from the discovery in the den.

Jim nudged her arm. "Penny for your thoughts," he said.

Startled, she stared at him for a minute before she answered. "Tell me, do you think Ben has changed all that much?"

Jim frowned. "I’m not sure what you mean, Trix. I haven’t had much time to talk to him today. Are you upset about him leaving you alone in the maze?"

Any reply she had was quelched by the dimming of the house lights, and any thoughts she had were chased away as she quickly became absorbed in the play, feeling as if almost no time had passed when the lights came on again for a short intermission. Grabbing Honey, she proceeded to join the other guests in the crowded lobby.

Trixie spotted Ben lounging on one of the art deco benches along the wall and nudged Honey. Making their way across the crowded lobby, they had nearly reached him when a distraught Dee Dee Spencer appeared before them.

"Honey! I really need your help! I caught my dress strap on a loose nail over there and I think it’s torn!" Her brown eyes pleaded for help.

Honey smiled. "Don’t worry Dee Dee. I always carry my sewing kit with me. It won’t be a minute," she said over her shoulder to Trixie, as they headed for the ladies lounge.

Trixie watched them go, then turned her attention back to Ben Riker. Or at least to the bench where he was sitting.

Now where did he go? Trixie shook her head in frustration. She wandered around the room, pausing by a large potted plant on the far side, where a group of men were gathered. Leaning against the wall dejectedly, she decided to go back into the theater.

I’ll bet that rat is avoiding me! she fumed.

Starting to walk away, she was jerked back to the wall by her necklace catching hold of something sticking out. The hasp broke and the delicate chain fell to the floor, behind the plant.

Trixie rolled her eyes and bent down to find it. Someone should do something about all these loose nails, she thought grumpily.

"I don’t know about you, gentlemen, but with the latest markets rising as they have been, anyone with a large amount of property in this area certainly would be sitting on a gold mine."

"Exactly. My investors, through extensive survey, have pinpointed this area as peak in their target market."

Trixie smiled to herself as she half-listened to the men discussing business, remembering her conversation with Honey’s step-cousin earlier that day. She was not surprised to see Bill Spencer and Mr. Scott were among the men discussing real estate nearby.

Finding her necklace, she sat down on a small bench and examined the hasp, still half-listening to the men’s’ conversation.

"….the Brownstone Estate is a prime example."

Trixie stopped fiddling with the necklace, and listened.

One of the three men she did not know was speaking.

The tallest of the group shook his head. "That property would be the perfect thing for my investors. Unfortunately, there still is a search on for an heir."

The man with the bow tie scratched his head. "That is a shame," he said. "Isn’t there some sort of limitations on that, though?"

Although his back was to her, Trixie had no problem recognizing William Spencer’s voice. "I do believe the time limit has nearly expired on that property, enough to submit another inquiry with intent to buy."

The shorter man knit his brows. "I had heard that particular estate would not be such a good investment, although I cannot remember why."

"Not a good deal? I don’t understand what you’re getting at, Geoff," exclaimed the tall man, with a raise of his eyebrows.

Mr. Scott, who had been quietly puffing on his pipe, gave a small laugh. "Ah, gentleman, perhaps you didn’t know. The Brownestone estate has been rumored to be haunted."

The men simply laughed at the idea.

Mr. Scott tapped his pipe on the nearby ashtray and smiled. "Laugh if you will, but most everyone knows about the ghosts in the gardens. After the unfortunate deaths of the Brownes long ago, the garden has been haunted by the ghosts of the last of the line."

The tall man shook his head in disbelief. "Isn’t it true that John Browne died in Boston?"

Putting his pipe away, Mr. Scott nodded. "Yes, but his body was brought home to the family plot, and his ghost has been seen wandering on the grounds since. Do you know how he died?"

"He was shot for some sort of gambling debt, wasn’t he?" asked Bill.

Mr. Scott smiled slightly. "Not shot, my boy, beheaded. A couple of years ago, some of the local kids decided to explore the grounds at night, on a dare. Word has it that they returned home shortly, yelling about some sort of headless man chasing them."

The men laughed again. "Sounds like the tale of that town in New York near the Hudson," one said.

The tall man scratched his chin. "Wouldn’t the caretaker have seen anything unusual?" he asked skeptically.

Mr. Scott looked directly at him. "Who’s to say he didn’t? He was in perfect health one day, then he was found laying face down near the entrance to the labyrinth. Massive heart attack, the doctor said."

"That’s the trouble with selling the property," added one of the men. "There were two witnesses to his will, but the property has been searched thoroughly without ever finding it, and searches for next of kin have turned up empty."

The lobby lights flickered twice to signal the beginning of the second half of the play, and the men faded into the crowd heading into the lobby.

Trixie tucked her necklace into her purse and slowly joined the last of the group going in, her thoughts racing. Slipping into her seat as the lights dimmed, it took her a second before she realized Honey was talking to her.

"Trixie," Honey hissed. "Where have you been?"

Trixie clutched her arm as the curtains rose. "I just found out some interesting things about the Browne Estate. We have to talk after the show!"

Honey nodded and put a finger to her lips.

Trixie sighed, and settled back into her seat as the second act began.

*      *       *

"What a wonderful night!" sighed Heather, resting her head back on the comfortable couch in the large study.

Trixie and Honey nodded their agreement, eyes still shining with merriment. The comedy had been performed exquisitely that evening, ending with several standing ovations from the crowded theater.

"It was a perfectly perfect night," said Honey. "A night...."

"…Oh night which ever art when day is not!" Jim interrupted her with a grin, causing the others to laugh heartily.

Ben turned from the window with a grin and continued the quote. "O night, O night! Alack, alack, alack!" He rolled his eyes and clasped his hands, mimicking the misguided Bottom feverishly acting the role of Pyramus.

Mrs. Philips looked up from the scrabble game that she, Miss Trask, Dora and her mother were involved in. "I’m glad to see something tear you away from that garden, Ben, even if it is just an opportunity to clown," she said gently, smiling at him.

"I don’t know what he sees in that mess of vines and bugs." frowned Dee Dee.

"I know. It’s not like it’s a mysterious Athenian wood, full of faeries, and magic, and handsome young men," sighed her twin.

William Spencer looked up from the book he was studying. "Who happens to already have a girlfriend, and is several years too old for you anyway."

Paige turned red and glared at her stepbrother. "I am seventeen years old, you know."

He laughed and put down the book. "Just barely."

Heather interrupted, then, as Paige looked ready to completely lose her temper, and Dee Dee was ready to defend her sister. "It has gotten late, hasn’t it? We girls must get our beauty sleep if we are to be dancing all night tomorrow." She smiled at the twins, who forgot their anger immediately at the mention of the country club dance the following evening.

Saying hasty good nights, they trouped up the stairs, still lamenting the discovery of the young actor’s girlfriend.

Heather giggled and gathered her sweater and purse. "Aught that I could ever read, could ever hear by tale or history the course of true love never did run smooth...." she quoted.

"And in the twins' case, true love should run far and run fast," added Ben.

Trixie could not help giggling at that, and could see Jim trying hard not to smile.

"Oh, Ben, be nice!" said Honey, also trying not to laugh.

"Well if true love is running around in that labyrinth, I’m not likely to go chasing it through that mess. Good night, everyone!" Heather waved happily as she went upstairs, followed shortly by William.

"I don’t know about you two, but I’m ready to call it a night." Jim stood, stretching his long limbs.

Honey yawned and let Jim help her off the sofa. "It has been a long day. Coming, Trix?"

Trixie nodded. "I’ll be up in a minute, Honey." She crooked her head silently at Ben, who had resumed his position at the window.

She waited until they had gone upstairs, and quietly approached him, jumping slightly when he whirled to face her.

"Well, Sherlock," he said. "You don’t look tired at all. Care for a walk?" He gestured out at the garden. "That is, with no objections from Miss Trask." He bowed elaborately in front of her.

Miss Trask looked up and smiled. "Just stay close to the house and not too late, ok, Trixie?"

Trixie nodded, and shot Ben a bewildered look as he crooked an arm at her. His face wore a pleasant expression as he escorted her out of the room, but when she looked at his eyes, she could see they were not smiling.

Trixie slipped on her sweater as they walked down the terrace and strolled towards the rose garden. As soon as they were out of sight of the study, she whirled to face him.

"What’s all this about, Ben Riker?" she demanded.

He glared back at her. "I don’t care to get in trouble with Mrs. Philips for you falling out of trees, that’s all."

Trixie gasped. "How did you....?"

"Jim Frayne gave me a little earful about leaving you in the maze this evening." He scowled and scuffed the toe of his shoe on the ground. "He seems to think it perfectly natural to expect you to do the exact opposite of what you’re told."

He frowned down at her. "If you were a normal girl, you would stay out of a lot of trouble."

Trixie glared back up at him, putting her hands firmly on her hips.

"Who are you to determine if someone is normal?" she demanded hotly. "You go from someone who plays ridiculous practical jokes and is generally obnoxious to someone moody and quiet, spending all his spare time passing notes in an overgrown labyrinth!"

During her tirade, he had reddened and clenched his fists, but now all color had drained from his face. Shaken, he paced a few steps away from her.

Trixie watched his reaction, eyes narrowed. After gathering his thoughts, he walked back to her, carefully controlling his words.

"This night air is getting chilly." Taking her arm, they walked over to the side door. Holding it open, he ushered her inside.

Miss Trask looked up and smiled. "Just stay close to the house and not too late, ok, Trixie?"

Trixie nodded, and shot Ben a bewildered look as he crooked an arm at her. His face wore a pleasant expression as he escorted her out of the room, but when she looked at his eyes, she could see they were not smiling.

Trixie slipped on her sweater as they walked down the terrace and strolled towards the rose garden. As soon as they were out of sight of the study, she whirled to face him.

"What’s all this about, Ben Riker?" she demanded.

He glared back at her. "I don’t care to get in trouble with Mrs. Philips for you falling out of trees, that’s all."

Trixie gasped. "How did you....?"

"Jim Frayne gave me a little earful about leaving you in the maze this evening." He scowled and scuffed the toe of his shoe on the ground. "He seems to think it perfectly natural to expect you to do the exact opposite of what you’re told."

He frowned down at her. "If you were a normal girl, you would stay out of a lot of trouble."

Trixie glared back up at him, putting her hands firmly on her hips.

"Who are you to determine if someone is normal?" she demanded hotly. "You go from someone who plays ridiculous practical jokes and is generally obnoxious to someone moody and quiet, spending all his spare time passing notes in an overgrown labyrinth!"

During her tirade, he had reddened and clenched his fists, but now all color had drained from his face. Shaken, he paced a few steps away from her.

Trixie watched his reaction, eyes narrowed. After gathering his thoughts, he walked back to her, carefully controlling his words.

"This night air is getting chilly." Taking her arm, they walked over to the side door. Holding it open, he ushered her inside.

"I recall your brothers talking about your overactive imagination. I guess you would be seeing things, getting lost in the maze and everything," he continued, despite her indignant look.

"I will pay to have your dress cleaned and repaired, ok? Just keep your silly thoughts to yourself."

Leaving her standing openmouthed at the door to Honey’s room, he strode rapidly down the hall.

Trixie stared after him, then shook her head slowly as she turned the knob. The Belden-Wheeler detective agency will be up late tonight she thought, pondering Honey’s cousin and his odd behavior.

Part IV

"So you suspect Ben is hiding something?" Honey’s hazel eyes were wide.

Trixie nodded vehemently. It had taken her quite a few minutes to control her anger before she could tell Honey about her little walk with Ben, and the strange information she had overheard earlier that evening.

"He is up to something, Honey. I just know it!" She smacked her pillow for emphasis.

Honey looked at her doubtfully. "I know you don’t like him and all.."

Trixie heaved a frustrated sigh. Honey always tried to see the good side of people, and more than once she had defended her cousin. Trixie smiled grimly at her, determined not to let Ben be the source of another fight between them.

"Beyond my personal feelings for Ben, don’t you think his behavior is just a bit odd?"

Honey furrowed her brow in thought. "He has been awfully quiet. And you’re right, Trixie, he does spend a lot of time in the gardens. I overheard Mrs. Philips talking to Miss Trask about that." She blushed. "I couldn’t help overhearing, they were talking practically in front of me."

Trixie grinned at her. "I guess the Manners Police can let that one slip, then. What else did she say?"

Honey sighed. "She is sort of worried. It’s just the last two weeks he has been spending his spare time wandering through the labyrinth."

Both girls sat silently in thought for a minute.

"You know, Ben isn’t the only one acting strange around here," Trixie finally said, looking meaningfully at Honey.

"What do you mean?" Honey shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, there’s Jim for one. Giving Ben a lecture about leaving me in the maze, which I guess he didn’t really do after all. But...." she spread her hands out and gave Honey a quizzical look.

Honey’s eyes twinkled at her best friend. "That’s no mystery. Jim is very fond of you, you know."

Trixie blushed and waved her hand as to shoo away the subject.

"And then there is you, Honey Wheeler. Here you are with all of your family, and this big dance tomorrow, and you don’t seem one bit excited."

Honey stared down at her bedspread. "I’m not," she said softly. "I mean, it’s nice to see my cousins and all, and I’m glad Heather is very excited about her weekend, but--"

"You wouldn’t want to be in her shoes," Trixie said sympathetically.

Honey looked up and nodded sadly. "But I’m going to have to eventually. Oh, Trixie, all I have been hearing is how everyone is looking forward to my turn in two years. Mother must be planning the tea already." She wiped a tear from the corner of one eye.

"I guess I’m just being silly, but I’m not like Heather. She wants to be an actress, so she doesn’t mind all the fuss and attention, but the idea of being on display all weekend and having everyone watching what I’m wearing and who I’m dancing with…." She covered her face with her hands.

Trixie patted her on the back. "Gleeps, Honey, do you have to do all that?" she asked.

Honey gulped and nodded. "It’s a old, old tradition. Mother has the pictures from her debut in her salon upstairs."

Trixie sighed, remembering the pictures of Honey’s mother, dressed in white, shyly greeting guests much like Heather did on the lawn earlier that morning.

She frowned. "If I remember those pictures of your mother correctly, Honey, she didn’t look very happy."

Seeing Honey’s renewed despair, she hurriedly continued her thought. "I mean, she might have felt about it the same way that you do, only never had the courage to say anything. Perhaps if you had a talk with her?"

Honey smiled. "You’re right, Trixie. I will ask her about it. But," she added softly, "I may talk to Miss Trask first."

Trixie grinned. Part of the reason that Miss Trask was first hired was the fact that Honey found it so easy to confide in her former math teacher.

Honey was smiling in earnest now. "I guess the only one not acting unusual around here is you, Trixie. You got lost in a maze, fell out of a tree, and discovered a mystery."

"But I didn’t spill anything on my good dress. That is unusual."

Both girls giggled at the sight of the disheveled and torn dress heaped in the corner of the room.

"Well, I think the Belden-Wheeler detective agency has some exploring to do tomorrow morning. Something is unusual is going on in that maze." Trixie slid under her covers.

Honey nodded at her and reached for the light. "We should have several hours to walk around in the morning. ‘Night Trixie."

"Goodnight, Honey." Trixie yawned, visions of the busy day traveling through her head until she finally fell asleep.

*     *     *

Trixie sat straight up in bed, breathing heavily. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she tried to focus on the clock. Twelve thirty-five. Slowly shaking her head, she let the details of the dream fall around her.

She had been chasing the mysterious girl through the woods, coming closer and closer, until suddenly a wall loomed before her. She tried to go around the wall, but wherever she would turn, the stone wall would come closer and closer, until she was surrounded on all sides, with the walls closing in tighter and tighter….

I’m glad I woke up quickly from that dream, she shuddered.

Silently, she put on her slippers and pushed aside the heavy drape to gaze upon the gardens. Bathed in moonlight, the pebbles and cobblestones shone brightly as a brisk wind blew the tree branches back and forth in occasional gusts.

Dreamily, she gazed upon the rose garden, with it’s climbing trellises that reminded her of the small flower garden at Crabapple Farm, planted and tended by her mother and great- great grand mothers throughout the years.

Jerking her head up with a start, she pushed away from the window and silently ran out of the room.

The figure in white was back, bobbing and weaving her way through the maze, almost near the entrance to the perennial garden.

Trixie sped down the hall, rushed downstairs to the small side door and out to the gardens.

The cool night air caught her by surprise as she rushed out past the rose garden and into the beginning of the maze. The wind was whipping the trees about, and they rose and fell menacingly around her as she raced to get to the center of the labyrinth. Reaching the large statue, Trixie paused to catch her breath.

Just then a gust of wind howled through, echoing eerily off the long brick and ivy wall behind her, and she wrapped her arms around herself, shivering.

Idiot! Why didn’t I grab my robe? she thought ruefully.

Carefully, she peered around the corner of a brick wall, just in time to see the flash of white turn around the corner of a stone wall. Running as silently as she could, Trixie sped over to the corner of the wall, thick with overgrown vines.

Using the ivy for cover, she stopped to listen.

The wind dove down into the maze again, howling fiercely and rustling the needles of a nearby pine tree that was drooping over the path, branches waving menacingly like arms ready to snatch unwelcome intruders.

Struggling to listen over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears, a man’s voice drifted over to her. Unable to pick out any words, she crept closer, trying to keep out of sight.

Around the corner, by a small statue of what looked to be half-man, half-goat, she could see the girl dressed in white pacing back and forth., stopping to put her head in her hands.

"…. is just getting too strange. Maybe you should go to the police."

The slim girl raised her head from her hands, her pixie-like face distraught and tense.

"I can’t." she said. "You know that." She resumed her pacing, nervously twisting her hands. "You shouldn’t be out here- I shouldn’t be out here. I knew this whole thing was silly!" and she turned and ran down the lower right path into the dense thicket.

"Jean – wait!"

Trixie could see the lanky form of Ben Riker step into view, staring after the retreating girl, then dejectedly walking off.

Trixie shivered again as another cold breeze rustled the ivy around her.

Stepping away from the wall, she walked towards the ugly little statue where Ben and the girl had stood. Mind racing, she bent to pick up a small piece of paper stuck in the boxwood near the overgrown exit the girl had used.

Faun at half past midnight, it said.

Trixie frowned, and folded the paper back up and held onto it tightly.

This mystery is getting stranger and stranger, she mused, walking back the path she had hurried down, dismayed to find a dead end in front of her.

She retraced her steps, her pace quickening as the wind swooped down again with a renewed fierceness.

Arriving at a small cul-de-sac, she started down a well-groomed path when another piece of paper, fluttering against a stone wall caught her eye.

The borrowed nightgown whipping violently around her ankles, she hurried over to the wall. The paper was stuck in a small niche, weighted down with a rock.

Carefully she picked up the yellowed piece and looked at the spidery writing.

Leave my property! – J. E. B. was scrawled across the page in bold letters.

Just then another fierce gust of wind howled into the cul-de-sac, followed by a tremendous cracking noise as a branch from a nearby tree came hurtling down at Trixie.

Without hesitation, she ran at top speed down the twisting path, the wind at her heels sounding like a thousand ghosts chasing her.

Just as she reached a fork in the path, a figure loomed out of the dark in front of her, roughly clapping a hand over her mouth as she started to scream.

"Trixie Belden, will you hold still?"

Trixie stopped struggling, and stared up at Ben Riker. Shaking from the cold and her momentary fright, she collapsed onto a nearby stone bench, shivering.

"What’s going on in here, Ben?"

He frowned at her. "You shouldn’t be out running around in this weather. Come on, I’ll take you inside." He started down the path.

Trixie stamped her foot. "No way! That might have worked earlier this evening, but I’m not leaving this garden until you tell me what kind of game you are playing. And don’t tell me I’m seeing things. Or should I go ask Jean?"

He slumped down on the bench next to her. "I knew I was kidding myself trying to hide anything from you," he said dejectedly.

"W- who is she and why is s-someone threatening her?" she questioned, teeth chattering.

At his quizzical stare, she showed him the old note.

He examined the note worriedly, about to question her, when he noticed her shivering. "Here, put this on." He handed her his navy prep school sweater, and standing up to pace in front of her, deep in thought.

Gratefully, she wrapped the sweater around her and tucked the notes into one pocket.

Stopping his pacing, he looked at her intently. "I guess I am going to need your help," he said softly. "If you meet me in the rose garden at seven thirty before breakfast tomorrow morning, I’ll tell you everything." Noting her suspicious look, he added, "Word of honor."

"Alright, Ben." Another branch from a nearby tree bounced off one of the stone pillars that ended a section of wall, and she jumped.

"Straight ahead, first two lefts, and you’re out." He said, starting down a narrow trail on the right, and quickly turning out of sight.

Trixie hurried along the path and made the first left, when the sound of heavy footsteps made her pause.

The footsteps came closer and closer, echoing hollowly, then seemed to go past where she was standing, and started to fade.

Thoughts of John Browne’s ghost whispered at her back of her consciousness, and Trixie shook her head to clear it.

There must be a path parallel to this one on the other side of this wall!

Hurrying over to a small stone planter, she stepped up on it to peek over the wall. Walking down the other path was a tall man dressed in an old riding outfit.

Stifling a gasp, Trixie jumped down from the planter and began to run towards the exit of the maze, completely unnerved.

Turning the corner, she almost didn’t feel the impact as she ran headlong into Jim Frayne, his face echoing her surprise as he prevented her from falling.

"Haven’t we done this already today?" he asked, when he could find the words.

Gulping, Trixie stared up at him, knowing he was waiting for her explanations, which she knew would sound ridiculous.

Trixie decided to try another tactic. "What are you doing out here, Jim?" she asked, starting to walk out of the maze.

Giving her a quizzical look, he followed her as they exited the gardens and made their way over to the side door.

"I was reading a book when I heard a cracking sound from the labyrinth. I figured one of the trees came down in the wind, so I decided to take a look. My room doesn’t face the gardens, so I went down to the study, and saw some people moving around out there." He gave her another curious look.

Quietly they entered the house and walked up the back stairs.

"Then you saw it too?" she whispered excitedly, grabbing his arm.

"Saw what?" he whispered back.

They were standing in front of the door to her room.

"I saw some shape off in the distance, and a tall dark figure. Then I saw a short blonde figure and thought I’d better see if you were in trouble again."

Suddenly he stopped short, noticing for the first time the sweater draped around her shoulders. Straightening, he took a step backwards.

" I guess Honey was right," he said softly. "Sometimes, you don’t need to be rescued. Goodnight, Trixie." He turned and strode quickly around the corner of the hallway, leaving Trixie staring after him in wonderment.

Shaking her head, she quietly crept into her room and turned on the small reading lamp by her bed.

Honey turned and murmured, but Trixie could tell by her friend’s even breathing that she would not wake up.

Taking out her notebook and pen, she settled under the covers, hanging Ben’s sweater on the post of the bed.

Shaking her head again, she decided to stop trying to figure out Jim’s strange behavior, and decided to get the details of the night on paper while they were still fresh in her mind.

A howl of wind from outside made her reflexively shiver. Jim had seen the dark figure too, but hadn’t noticed anything unusual.

Trixie bit her lip a little guiltily. She would have loved to confide in him, but how could she tell him she had just seen a headless man walking through the labyrinth?

Sighing, she started to write down the details of the night, painfully aware of the clock ticking away the early morning hours.

Part Five

Trixie Belden Fan Fiction