*some adult themes, mild violence

Author’s note: The assumption that Aunt Alicia is Helen Belden’s sister is based on a statement made by Mart in Julie Campbell’s The Mysterious Visitor.

The Mysterious Suitor

by Angela

Chapter 1: An Interesting Experiment

A brisk February wind swirled around the small white frame house, rattling the windows and startling the two girls sitting in the small cozy bedroom. Fifteen-year-old Trixie Belden looked out the bedroom window at the tiny snowflakes dancing madly in the light pouring out from the fixture on the service porch. She whistled softly. "That wind is sure getting wicked. I wonder if Aunt Alicia is going to make it through tonight."

"I’m sure she’ll pull off somewhere if things get too hairy," Aimée Monet said as she put the last of her lacy white panties in the drawer Trixie had cleared for her.

Seventeen-year-old Aimée was currently boarding with the Belden family at Crabapple Farm, two miles outside Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson. The old farmhouse was located in a small hollow facing Glen Road. Sitting on a hill to the west of the farm was the Manor House that belonged to the family of Trixie’s best friend Honey Wheeler, and her adopted brother Jim Frayne. The burnt out shell of Ten Acres, the old Frayne estate, stood on the hill to the east of the small hollow.

When Trixie’s widowed aunt, Alicia Hamilton, had announced that she was coming for a visit, Aimée had volunteered to give up her downstairs bedroom to the older woman. The two young women were currently busy trying to move the older girl’s belongings into Trixie’s room.

Standing back Aimée looked around the room. "Well, I guess that’s everything I’ll need for the week. If I have forgotten something, I hope your aunt won’t mind my going in to get it."

"I doubt if she’d mind as long as you ask her first." Trixie sat down cross-legged on one of the twin maple beds. "I sure am glad that you decided to move in here with me. We can talk whenever we want this way."

Aimée grinned. "You say that now. Just wait until the end of the week when you’ll be dying to get your room back to yourself." The older girl flopped back on the other bed, burying her nose in one of the paperback novels she had brought home from the library that day.

"Aimée ..." Trixie paused, unsure whether she should continue.

Realizing Trixie’s need to talk, Aimée laid the book down on the bed, rolling over on her side so that she could watch the younger girl. "What’s up, Trix?"

"It’s ... it’s Aunt Alicia. I’m not sure she likes me very much!" Trixie blurted out.

Aimée hesitated to answer, uncertain how Trixie had arrived at this conclusion. "Um ... Trix, what makes you think she doesn’t like you?"

"Because I’m not the kind of person she wants me to be," Trixie answered in a small voice.

"Now I’m really confused, Trix. What kind of person do you think she expects you to be?"

"I’m not sure, but I think she’d approve of me if I were more ladylike," Trixie answered hesitantly. "More like you, and Honey, and Di."

"Ladylike," Aimée snorted. "I wouldn’t say I’m any more lady-like than the next person! What do you mean by ladylike?"

Trixie ran agitated fingers through her sandy blonde curls, blue eyes gleaming with frustration. "Aw Aimée, you’re not helping any!" she grumbled. "I guess what I mean is that ever since I was small Aunt Alicia has been trying to turn me into her idea of a little girl. When I was eight she tried to teach me how to tat! It was awful! When I couldn’t do it I felt like I had disappointed her somehow." She stopped to catch her breath. Meeting Aimée’s eyes with her own, she looked for some sign of understanding.

Aimée nodded. "Go on, Trix. I think I’m starting to get the picture."

"She’s never approved of the way I dressed, and she was constantly sending me girlie things like the seed pearl necklace she gave me for Christmas one year!" Trixie sighed. "I’m just too much of a tomboy to suit Aunt Alicia."

"So you feel that the only way that your aunt can like you is if you wear dresses and jewelry, then sit quietly in a corner doing needlework." Aimée summed up what Trixie had said with a glint of humor in her green eyes.

Trixie nodded.

"Aw Trix, you goof! You know darn well that your Aunt Alicia loves you for yourself, just like the rest of us. That will never change, even if she doesn’t approve of the fact that you run around in patched jeans and tattered sweaters."

"You think so, Aimée?" she chuckled.

"I know so, but if you think wearing a dress will make a difference, I think I have the perfect getup for you. It’s a wonderful confection of pink ruffles, ribbons, and lace. Even if your Aunt Alicia doesn’t love it, it will certainly give the rest of us a good laugh!"

In her mind’s eye Trixie could see herself flouncing down the staircase dressed like a stereotypical southern belle, before taking a seat and picking up a piece of embroidery or something. Mart would die of shock. I can just see the look on his face. Trixie giggled at the picture.

"Ruffles and lace, my eye!" Blue eyes filled with laughter Trixie grabbed her pillow and launched it in Aimée’s direction. Aimée tried to duck out of the way, but managed to roll off the bed and land on the floor with a resounding thump. When Trixie tried to help her up she was laughing so hard that she collapsed on top of her instead.

"Oooo ... get off of me, Trixie." Aimée gasped between fits of giggles. "I can’t breathe!"

Instead Trixie straddled the girl and proceeded to tickle her mercilessly. Trying to escape Trixie’s tickling fingers, Aimée squirmed and bucked, between peals of laughter, trying to throw her off balance.

Finally Trixie rolled off, landing on the paperback that had fallen to the floor at the beginning of their playful scuffle. Grunting, she reached beneath her pulling it out. Pictured on the cover was a half-naked dark-haired man locked in a passionate embrace with a voluptuous red-haired woman.

Aimée lunged for the book and missed.

Holding it out of Aimée’s reach, Trixie read, "Sweet Savage Passion by Jennifer Linn." She cocked her eyebrow as she glanced in her friend’s direction, then opened the book to the section Aimée had been reading. Clearing her throat, she began to read aloud, "Patrick circled Gisele’s tiny waist with his strong hands and, lifting her from Diablo’s back, carried her toward the lean-to. Stopping at the threshold, he gazed into the emerald depths of her glorious eyes before lowering his gaze to her lush red lips. Slowly he lowered his mouth to hers, tracing the outline of her upper lip with his tongue. Her breath caught in her throat, and she clutched at his broad shoulders as the world seemed to fall away from her. As wondrous sensations swirled around her, she gasped, opening her lips to his passionate possession."

Teasingly, Trixie fanned herself with her hand. "My, my, Aimée. Does Dan know you read stuff like this?" Dan Mangan was the handsome, dark-haired, young man that Aimée had been dating since soon after her arrival in Sleepyside. Trixie, Dan, and Aimée, Trixie’s brothers Brian and Mart, and their friends Honey, Jim, and Diana Lynch, all belonged to a semi-secret club known as the Bob-Whites of the Glen, or B.W.G.’s for short.

Aimée blushed, then grinned mischievously. "Oh, Dan knows. He decided to sample my reading material one afternoon. I never knew that he could turn such an interesting shade of red." She giggled. "He dropped that book as if it burnt his fingers. Ever since that day whenever I ask him if he wants to sit and read with me he stutters and sputters trying to find an excuse to refuse."

"Gosh! The part he read must have been a lot juicier than the one I just did. Imagine, Dan getting embarrassed over a love scene in a book." Trixie grinned. "Maybe we ladies should try an experiment. We can all start carrying around romance novels and see what kind of reaction we get from the boys."

Bursting into gales of laughter, Aimée gasped, "Trix, I think seeing you with a romance novel would give your brothers a heart attack. Sort of like that time you told me about, when you pretended to be in love with Honey’s cousin, Ben Riker, so that you could get your diamond ring from the safety deposit box to use it as security for Brian’s jalopy."

Trixie joined her friend in laughter. "I can’t forget the look on their faces when I went all feminine on them."

"I’m certain you’d get a similar reaction from them by running around with a romance novel. Mart’s liable to go out and get a straight-jacket for you. I mean they’d expect it of Honey, or Di, but you!" Aimée giggled. "But the biggest problem with this little experiment is that other than Dan, none of the guys have ever read a romance novel so they don’t realize how steamy they are!"

"Well, we can read the books, carry them around, maybe pretend to compare the guys with the heroes. That’s sure to arouse their curiosity, and tempt at least one of them to see what it’s all about. Do you have enough of these things to go around?" Trixie’s eyes were gleaming with excitement as she plotted.

"Sure, I’ve a whole box full of books that I’ve finished reading in my closet downstairs. If you want to do it, I’m game, but I still think they’re more likely to lock you away for turning all mushy, than to go mad with curiosity."

"Okay, so let's talk to Honey and Di about it when we meet at the lake tomorrow morning."

"Agreed!" the two shouted before lapsing into another fit of the giggles

Mart chose this moment to rap on the door case and stick his head inside the room. He looked enough like his younger sister that they could have been twins, except for the fact that he was several inches taller and he wore his hair cut short to keep his unruly curls under control. With a puzzled looked on his freckled face, he asked, "Hey you hens, what are you two cackling about?"

At the sight of him Trixie managed to stutter, "No ... nothing!" After which she was overcome with laughter.

"Yeah, right!" he snorted. "Well, you two had better pull yourselves together and drag your funny bones downstairs because Aunt Alicia’s car has just pulled into the driveway."

 

Chapter 2: Aunt Alicia’s Surprise

"Aimée," Trixie cried in horror, "I can’t greet Aunt Alicia looking like this! What do I wear?"

The older girl crossed to the closet, and looked in the very back where Trixie tended to cram the things she didn’t normally wear. Chewing thoughtfully on the end of one of her long reddish-gold curls, she contemplated the contents of the closet with a practiced eye. "Hmmm...." Reaching in she pulled out a simple navy sleeveless jumper, and a white crewneck sweater. "What do you think, Trix? Casual but feminine. No ruffles." Aimée grinned.

"Oooo ... it’s perfect, Aimée, you’ve such an eye for mixing and matching." Trixie threw her arms around her friend and raced for the bathroom to change into the smart outfit.

Together the two girls trooped down the stairs, Trixie in the navy jumper and Aimée dressed in a short, black and white, pleated, plaid skirt and black tunic sweater. "Oh Aimée," Trixie muttered, "the books. Go grab the books and put them in the closet under the stairs. We can sneak them upstairs later."

"Oh Trixie, you’re a riot! You’d think we were doing something illegal. Everyone knows that I read anything I can get my hands on, and they wouldn’t be surprised if I wanted to take some of my books up with me."

Sheepishly, Trixie grinned. "I guess not, but go get them anyway. That way you won’t have to ask Aunt Alicia’s permission to go get them."

"Yes, mistress." Aimée curtsied impishly before hurrying off to her room.

Trixie made it to the front door just as her father and Brian brought in Aunt Alicia’s luggage. Both the men were tall and slender, with dark hair, and eyes so brown that they were almost black. In fact Brian was a younger version of his father, Peter Belden, lacking only the neatly trimmed mustache and the wire-framed glasses.

As the two men headed out to the car, Aunt Alicia bustled through the front door, her round face creased in a broad smile. She was a short, plump woman, with cinnamon brown curls and big brown eyes filled with warm laughter. The fur collar of her camel-colored melton coat was dusted with snowflakes, and her cheeks were ruddy with cold.

Opening her arms wide, she pulled Helen Belden into a warm embrace. "Oh Helen, I’m so happy to finally see you again. How’s my baby sister?"

Helen Belden looked nothing like her older sister. She had the same blonde curls and blue eyes as her three younger children. Of average height, she had managed to retain her slender figure despite having brought four children into the world.

"Alicia, I’m so glad that you made it here safely. The weather is getting so bad that I kept expecting you to call and tell me that you had to take a room somewhere."

"And miss a day in the company of my wonderful family?" Aunt Alicia shook her head. "Nonsense, I’m a good driver and a little bitty storm isn’t going to keep me away from the people I love. Oh my! This couldn’t be little Bobby, could it?" Pulling the sturdy little boy toward her she kissed his cheek. "My have you grown since the last time I saw you! You’re such a big boy for an eight year old. Tell me, has your mother let you use that compass I gave you for your birthday yet!"

"Yes Aunt Alicia, and Jim showed me how to use it."

"That’s really nice, Bobby. Now Mart, come give your aunt a hug." Embracing the tall blonde young man, she winked at Trixie. "I remember when you were no bigger than your brother Mart, now look at you. All grown up."

Trixie smiled at her aunt. "Hi, Aunt Alicia! How are you?"

"Why Trixie I’m just fine!" Holding the girl at arm's length she took in the navy jumper and white sweater. "Well Trixie, I’m proud of you. You’ve grown into a fine young woman."

When Aunt Alicia embraced her in a warm hug, Trixie could smell the subtle spicy scent of her perfume. Mmmm ... that’s pretty! Thinking back over her earlier doubts, she smiled. Aimée was right, Aunt Alicia did love her for herself even though they didn’t always see eye to eye on things like clothes and behavior.

Looking over Trixie’s shoulder, Aunt Alicia noticed the slender strawberry-blonde who had quietly joined them. She smiled warmly. "And this must be Aimée. Helen has told me all about you, dear."

"Hello, Mrs. Hamilton. How was your trip?" Aimée offered her hand to the older woman.

"Don’t be so formal child. Just call me Aunt Alicia!"

Aimée grinned. "Thank you, Aunt Alicia. I’d like that."

"Now," Aunt Alicia said briskly, "if someone would do something with this coat, I would love to have a cup of tea and get warmed up."

Brian helped his aunt with her coat, then hung it in the hall closet, as Trixie and Helen led the woman into the living room.

"Aunt Helen," Aimée said quietly, "if you want to sit down and chat, I’ll get the tea and cakes ready."

Helen smiled at the girl. "Thanks, Aimée, you’re a godsend. I’d like a chance to get caught up with my sister."

As the girl slipped from the room, Helen joined her sister on the sofa.

"Brian, did you bring in that shopping bag like I asked you?"

"Yes, Aunt Alicia, here it is." Brian reached behind his chair pulling out a large paper shopping bag.

"Thank you, son." Aunt Alicia smiled her thanks. "Well, you know I couldn’t visit without bringing gifts for everyone, so let's see what I have." Digging into her bag she pulled out a thick book titled Flora and Fauna of New York. "Now this is for Bobby. Your mom told me that you were really becoming interested in wildlife, so I thought this might help you to identify some of the things you find."

The smiling woman continued to pull gifts out of the bag. There were hand-knit Fair Isle sweaters for the men, a basket of bath treats for Helen, and a book called The Collected Works of Jane Austen for Aimée.

"Well I guess the last thing in my bag is for you, Trixie! It took a long time for me to decide what I wanted to get for you, because I wanted to be certain it would be something you would enjoy and use. I could have made you a sweater like I did the boys, but I wanted to give you something different. Then I thought of all of the adventures that you’ve had and thought it would be nice if you could have someplace special to record them."

Carefully, Aunt Alicia drew out a thick leather-bound book from the bag. "It’s a journal. Both your mother and I started keeping them when we were about your age. If you remember, each Christmas we give each other a new book to write in. Your grandmother kept a journal as well, and someday I will pass the books she filled on to you. I guess it's sort of a tradition in our family, passed on from mother to daughter. Oh yes, one more thing. Any girl who seriously keeps a journal should have a special pen for writing in it. This one belonged to your grandmother. It was one of the gifts your grandfather gave her while they were courting."

Trixie took the journal and the pen from her aunt. Her eyes wide with awe. She’d often kept notes about her cases, but had never kept a journal on a regular basis. The thought of carrying on the family tradition was oddly appealing.

"Oh thank you, Aunt Alicia!" Trixie smiled. "It’s lovely, and I’m so happy to have something that belonged to Grandma."

"I’m glad you like it, dear." Aunt Alicia reached over to pat her hand.

Looking around at her family, Alicia Hamilton smiled mysteriously. "And now I’m going to tell you all the reason for my sudden visit. I’ve a surprise that I hope all of you will be happy about."

"Really, Alicia?" Helen looked curiously at her sister. "What could that be?"

Beaming at her sister, she announced, "I’m getting married again!"

"Married!" Helen exclaimed totally unprepared for the announcement. "You never even mentioned that you were seeing anyone."

"Who is he, Aunt Alicia?" Trixie was fairly bubbling over with excitement.

"His name is Jeremy Reid!" she announced proudly.

"Jeremy Reid! Not the same Jeremy Reid you knew in high school!" Helen gasped.

"The very same, Helen. We met again six months ago while he was on a business trip to Boston, and we’ve being seeing each other ever since."

"Six months, Alicia! Isn’t this a bit sudden?" Helen asked still in shock.

"Sudden? Oh pooh! Quit being an old fuddy-duddy, Helen. It’s not as if Jeremy was a total stranger!"

"But Alicia, you hadn’t seen him in twenty-five years!"

 

Chapter 3: Old Loves and New Loves

Saturday morning dawned cold and clear. Sunlight glittered off the crystalline perfection of the new fallen snow, while the cold breeze reddened the cheeks of the two girls as they trudged their way up the hill to the Manor House. Dressed in jeans and heavy sweaters, Trixie’s in royal blue and Aimée’s in emerald green, they carried their skates slung over their shoulders.

"I still can’t believe it!" Trixie exclaimed breathlessly. "Someone Aunt Alicia’s age falling in love!"

"What’s so hard to believe about that, Trix?" Aimée grinned. "You watch your mom and dad every day, and they’re obviously still in love with each other. A person’s age has very little to do with their ability to love someone."

"Well, I think it's kind of weird," Trixie muttered to herself.

"Oh really, Trix! Personally, I think it’s kind of romantic that after twenty-five years your aunt’s high school sweetheart comes back into her life, and they fall in love all over again." She sighed wistfully. "If only we will be so lucky to have romance in our lives when we’re in our forties."

"Aw Aimée! You’ll be an old married lady when you hit your forties. Just like June Cleaver, meeting Dan at the door with slippers and a newspaper," Trixie teased.

Aimée chuckled. "You think so, do you, and what about you and Jim?" She reached over and grabbed Trixie’s skates before shoving her into the snow drift.

"Aimée," the younger girl sputtered, struggling to pull herself out of the snow. When Aimée bent to help her out, she pulled her in head first.

Rolling over onto her back, Aimée looked up into the sky. "Well that was refreshing, just what I needed to wake me up this morning, a face full of snow," she said sarcastically. Trying to get up she fell back down again. Laughing she asked, "Okay, smarty pants, now that we’re both stuck in the snow bank how do we get out?"

"I don’t know," Trixie answered. "Wait until someone comes to help us out."

"If we do that, we could still be sitting here next spring."

"So what are we going to do?" Trixie asked.

Chuckling Aimée answered, "We could make snow angels while we’re down here."

"I’m not sure I remember how."

"I think you’re supposed to move your arms and legs in and out at the same time," Aimée suggested.

"Like this?" Trixie asked demonstrating her technique.

"That’s it," Aimée answered with a giggle.

The sound of a throat clearing and a droll voice asking, "Isn’t it the wrong time of year to be practicing the backstroke ladies?" startled the two girls into a sitting position.

Staring at the tall, broad-shouldered, red-haired man in surprise, Trixie gasped, "Oh Regan, you startled me!"

He grinned, his green eyes sparkling with humor. "You girls having a problem?"

Aimée blushed. "We’re ... sort of ... stuck! Could you help us up?"

"Well, that depends," he chuckled, "on whether someone’s going to be exercising the horses today."

Groaning, Trixie replied, "You sure drive a hard bargain, Regan, but you’ve got a deal. You help us out of this snow bank, and we’ll take the horses out after we finish practicing our routines down at the lake."

"Wel, considering that Honey and Diana are waiting at the house, and the guys have already gone to the lake, I’ll guess that will have to do." Grinning, Regan reached out a strong hand and pulled Trixie to her feet, then turned to Aimée. "Your turn, missy, up you go."

Waving at the handsome groom and yelling thanks, the two girls continued up the hill to the Manor House.

As Trixie and Aimée crested the hill, Honey and Di ran to meet them. Honey wore a beautifully knit lemon-yellow sweater that set off her shoulder-length golden-brown hair and her sparkling hazel eyes, while dark-haired Diana had chosen to wear a rich blue-violet jacket that brought out the color of her eyes. Like their friends they too wore faded jeans, scarves, and headbands.

"What kept you?" Diana asked. "We’ve been waiting for simply eons! The guys went ahead to build up the fire, and clear the snow from the ice."

Honey joined in. "Brian and Mart told us about your Aunt Alicia’s big surprise. I could hardly believe it! You’ve always painted her as rather prim and proper, so it was rather difficult to absorb the fact that she could act so impetuously."

The girls chattered away about the Aunt Alicia and the engagement as they walked along the path to the Wheelers' lake. Suddenly Trixie stopped dead, almost causing a collision as Di was following close on her heels.

"Oh, how stupid can I be," she muttered, totally exasperated with herself. "I almost forgot to ask you about the experiment before we got to the lake."

"Experiment, what experiment?" Honey asked, confused by the sudden change in topic.

Giggling, Trixie quickly explained Dan’s reaction to Aimée’s romance novels, and her desire to learn how the other guys would react to their girlfriends reading romance novels.

"You mean Harlequins?" Di asked.

"No way," Trixie shook her head. "I mean the hot and steamy stuff that Aimée’s been reading!"

"How hot and steamy?" Honey asked with a teasing glance toward the lake.

"Hot enough to melt the ice on the lake," Aimée giggled in response.

"Oooo ... I can’t wait to read one of them myself," Di whispered conspiratorially.

Honey blushed then admitted, "I already have." Clearing her throat, she continued, "So what’s the plan, Trixie?"

Trixie looked over her shoulder to make certain none of the guys had seen them, then began to outline her plan. "Well, first we start reading the novels and carrying them around with us, then we discuss them with each other, but clam up whenever one of the guys show up. They’ll be sure to want to know what’s going on and once their curiosity is aroused, then we can start leaving the books lying around to see how long it takes one of the guys to pick them up to see what all the fuss is about. If that happens, we watch for their reaction and report back to the others."

"I don’t know, Trixie, do you think it will work?" Honey asked.

"It worked with Dan, didn’t it?"

Di said slyly, "Actually I’m more interested in observing how the guys will react to seeing Trixie reading a romance novel. That in itself will be a fascinating experiment."

Trixie blushed. "Aw guys, cut it out! Maybe I’m interested in having a little romance in my life too! After all, being a tomboy doesn’t eliminate the possibility of enjoying the experience of falling in love."

"Really, Trixie," Aimée asked with seeming innocence, "are you enjoying the experience of being in love?"

"Yes, I am!" With those words Trixie turned and made her way toward the lake, leaving her three friends staring after her with mouths gaping in surprise.

"I can’t believe she finally admitted it," Honey whispered.

"Come on, guys," Aimée urged, "if we have to go riding this afternoon be better get down there on that ice and get busy practicing before we run out of time."

Arriving at the lakeshore, the girls found Trixie busy lacing up her skates. Looking out over the ice they watched the four guys as they practiced spins and fancy footwork. Mart and Dan were clowning around doing a mocking rendition of a pair dance, but Mart kept getting his footing wrong and tripping Dan up. Exasperated, the dark-haired young man threw up his hands and skated toward the shore.

Coming sharply to a stop in front of the four girls, Dan grinned. "Hi guys!" Turning to Aimée he crooked his arm. "Hey Angelface! Glad you’re finally here, Mart makes a lousy woman. He’s about as graceful as the proverbial bull in a china shop. Ready to show him how it's really done, sweetheart?"

Smiling radiantly, Aimée hooked her arm through Dan’s and the pair skated easily across the ice as they worked to perfect their complex routine of footwork, spins, jumps, and lifts that they were preparing for the local carnival. They watched as Dan carefully lifted Aimée over his head, while still moving gracefully over the frozen surface of the lake.

Honey looked over at Trixie. "Those two are really good together, aren’t they?" she whispered in awe.

Trixie nodded. "Somehow they’ve managed to find the time to practice, but I guess it’s one of the few ways the two lovebirds can spend time alone together. Just look at the interaction between the two of them, you can see how much they love each other just from their body language."

Watching the pair out on the ice, Honey said, "I don’t know about that, Trix, but I sure am glad Aimée trusts Dan enough to do those lifts, they really make the program fantastic."

"I think I’d be scared that he’d drop me," Di added as she joined her two friends on the ice.

Honey shivered. "Oooo ... Don’t say that, Di! You might jinx them or something."

"Speaking of practice," Trixie smiled, "I guess the rest of us had better get busy as well." Skating out onto the lake the three girls paired off with Jim, Brian, and Mart, with each couple moving skillfully through their own routine.

 

Chapter 4: The Beau

Trixie and Aimée were just returning to Crabapple Farm after exercising the horses, when a strange blue Oldsmobile pulled into the sloping driveway. Squinting against the glare from the pristine snow, Trixie mumbled to herself, "I wonder who that could be."

Looking toward the approaching vehicle, Aimée shook her head. "I haven’t the faintest idea, but I guess we’ll soon find out."

The two girls approached the vehicle as it pulled to a stop, and a tall, slender man with silver hair and a trim mustache stepped from the driver’s seat. He was a handsome man dressed in a black leather car coat opened to reveal the dark gray, double-breasted suit he wore beneath it.

The gentleman smiled at Trixie and Aimée, revealing even white teeth. "Excuse me, young ladies, but can you tell me if this is Crabapple Farm?"

"Yes, it is," Trixie answered, her voice filled with curiosity. "May I ask whom you’re looking for?"

"I’m Jeremy Reid, and I’m here to see Alicia Hamilton."

So this was Jeremy Reid, Aunt Alicia’s fiancé! Trixie observed the man cautiously. He was definitely well groomed, and tastefully and expensively clothed. Was that a Rolex watch he was wearing? There was something about him she just didn’t like, but she couldn’t quite put a finger on it. She made up her mind to keep a close eye on him while he was in town.

Aimée stepped forward to answer the man’s implied question, and to fill the uncomfortable silence resulting from his announcement. "Hello, Mr. Reid, I’m Aimée Monet and this is Trixie Belden, Mrs. Hamilton’s niece. If you will follow me, I believe we will find her inside."

Trixie followed the two through the front door. Leave it to Aimée to follow the perfect protocol, while I stand there like an idiot staring at the guy as if he had two heads. Trixie grinned wryly to herself. As Aimée helped Mr. Reid with his coat, Trixie slipped out of her boots and went looking for Aunt Alicia.

Finding the older woman sitting in the kitchen chatting with her mother over a cup of tea, Trixie announced breathlessly, "Aunt Alicia, Mr. Reid is here!"

"Jeremy here, oh my!" Aunt Alicia flushed with excitement, as she jumped up from the table to follow Trixie out into the entrance hall.

"Oh Jeremy," she cried, "what are you doing here? I didn’t expect you until later in the week."

Jeremy Reid bent to kiss Aunt Alicia's round cheek. "Why, Alicia, I just couldn’t bear to be apart from you for that length of time, so I took a week of holidays and headed after you. It has been years since I’ve been in Sleepyside, but I had no trouble finding my way around."

"Are you from Sleepyside originally, Mr. Reid?" Trixie asked curiously.

"Yes, of course! Didn’t your aunt tell you we went to school together?"

"I guess she mentioned that you dated while you were in high school, but I assumed you were from one of the neighboring towns. I don’t remember hearing about any Reids in Sleepyside," Trixie answered.

"There probably aren’t any of us left anymore. I was an only child and my parents died before I even finished school. I was living with my mother’s only sister when I graduated, but she’s gone now, too."

I don’t trust this guy. His story’s just too cut and dried. No family in town, but there must be other people who remember him from the time he lived here. But how do I find out who knew him as a teenager? I can’t ask Moms, she’ll be upset if she finds out I’m investigating Aunt Alicia’s beau. Now why did I use such an old-fashioned word? I guess it suits Aunt Alicia’s relationship better than boyfriend.

Helen Belden, joining the small group in the corridor, suggested they move into the living room. As they settled into the comfortable seats around the room, Mrs. Belden asked, "So Jeremy, how did you and Alicia meet in Boston after all of these years?"

"Believe it or not we met at a charity function, at the local Historical Society. The woman I was seeing at the time was an avid member and she use to drag me around to all their functions. When I encountered Alicia at the buffet table we recognized each other and started talking about the past. By the end of the evening I decided that I just had to see her again and asked if I might call on her."

"What a small world it’s becoming," Helen said politely.

Chapter 5: Back to School

Trixie skipped down the stairs Monday morning, for a change anxious to get to school. Whistling, she walked into the kitchen, just as Mart came in from shoveling the driveway.

"And what pray tell are you so exuberant about so early on a Monday morning?" he asked her grouchily.

"Oh nothing," she answered airily as she tossed her copy of Love’s Desire on the table before walking over to the kitchen cabinet. Reaching for the homemade granola, she poured a generous serving into a bowl, grabbed a glass, and a spoon then headed for the table. As she added milk to her cereal she surreptitiously watched Mart from under sandy lashes.

It was such an unusual occurrence for his sister to bring a book to the breakfast table that Mart’s interest was captured. He was trying to sneak a look at the cover, when Aimée walked into the kitchen, drawing his attention.

"Morning all! Aunt Helen said I could take the car this morning if either of you want a ride to school. I’m working at the library this evening, so I’m going to be in town late. I really should write to my father and ask him for a secondhand car for my birthday later this month. That way I won’t constantly be needing to borrow your mother’s."

"Brian said you could take his old clunker, if you needed to!" Mart teased.

"Oh, gee, Mart, I would but I think I’d be more likely to get home if I walked," she said snidely. "Brian seems to be the only one who can get that thing to start."

"Aimée, what time are you finished work tonight?" Trixie asked nonchalantly.

"I’ll be done at six. Why?"

"Well, I wanted to do some research, if Moms says it’s okay for me to stay in town after school."

"You can come home with me if Aunt Helen says it’s all right!"

"Oh great! I’ll go ask her right now."

"Ask me what, Trixie?" Mrs. Belden walked into the kitchen carrying a basket of dirty laundry.

"Moms, would you mind if I stayed in town after school, and went to the library to work on a special project?"

"I guess it's okay dear, as long as you don’t disturb Aimée while she’s working."

"I won’t, Moms, though I may need some help finding what I’m looking for."

"Helping people find information is part of my job, Trix. So if you can’t find what you’re looking for, don’t be afraid to ask," Aimée said.

"Thanks, Aimée. I’m going to catch the bus so I can talk to Honey about the special project. You don’t mind giving us both a lift, do you, Aimée?" Trixie asked.

"Of course not! See you at lunch, Trix!"

Mart hurried after Trixie, shouting back, "I think I’ll take the bus too! Bye Moms, bye Aimée!"

*     *     *

Trixie made it to the bus just in time, collapsing onto the seat Honey had saved for her at the back of the bus. Mart, disgruntled, had been forced to sit further toward the front of the bus, allowing her to speak freely with Honey.

"Hi, Honey! Boy am I glad you saved a seat for me today. The bus is sure full."

"Wish I could have saved one for Mart as well, but I was lucky to find this one."

"Don’t worry about that, Honey," Trixie whispered. "There’s something I want to talk to you about and I don’t want Mart to overhear." Pausing, she looked around to make certain that no one was listening to their conversation. Leaning toward Honey, Trixie explained her qualms concerning Jeremy Reid.

"Honey, there’s something about that guy that’s setting off alarm bells. I just can’t put my finger on it. He seems too perfect." Trixie chewed pensively on her lower lip and looked at Honey with worried eyes. "I don’t trust him. I think there is more behind his interest in Aunt Alicia than love."

"But what can you do about it, Trix? If you say anything, everyone will say it's just your overactive imagination."

"I need to find out more about Jeremy Reid first of all. The fact that he is originally from Sleepyside should make it easy to find out about his early years, and maybe I can find out what the guy does for a living." Glancing over at her best friend, Trixie asked, "Honey, do think you can stay in town with me after school so that we can do some research at the library? Aimée’s working tonight, and she said she would give us a ride home."

"Well, I guess I can if Miss Trask doesn’t have other plans for me. I’ll call her at lunchtime."

"Good! If Jeremy Reid has anything to hide, I intend to find out what it is." Trixie’s eyes gleamed with purpose.

Honey smiled at the look of determination that crossed Trixie’s face. "I know you will, partner. Don’t you always get to the bottom of things?"

 

Chapter 6: Ancient Secrets

School seemed to drag on forever that day, but finally the bell rang and classes were finished for the day. Trixie and Honey left Sleepyside Junior-Senior High, walking across the town square to the library.

The Sleepyside Public Library was a two-story, brick building with an imposing facade that had been built around 1917 with a gift from The Carnegie Corporation. The foundation had been established in 1911 by Andrew Carnegie, an American steel magnate, to promote the spread of knowledge and understanding throughout the United States and the British Commonwealth.

Climbing the wide steps, the two girls walked through the pillared entrance to the library. Light pouring through the tall windows that faced the town square gleamed off the beautiful oak furnishings within. Deep burgundy carpets absorbed the sound of their steps as Trixie and Honey made their way to the reference desk.

Aimée, in the midst of an Internet search for a patron, looked up from the computer and smiled. "Hi guys! School out already? Just let me print this out for Mrs. Cameron, and I’ll be right with you."

Selecting the print option, Aimée waited while the printer spit out the results of her search. Carefully she explained the information to the elderly woman at the desk, making certain that this was the information she had wanted. Finally she turned her attention to her two friends.

"Okay, Trix, what can I help you with?"

Trixie stopped to think before answering. Would Aimée say anything to Moms about her prying into Mr. Reid’s past? No, that would be unethical she decided. Hesitantly she broached the subject. "Aimée, what sources could I check to find out more about Jeremy Reid’s background?"

Startled, Aimée met her friend’s eyes trying to gauge her intentions. Slowly she shook her head realizing Trixie was on another of her investigations. "Trixie," she began with concern, "are you sure you should be doing this?"

Sensing that Aimée was torn between doing her job, and protecting her from the probability of Moms’ wrath if she found out, Trixie answered, "Something’s not right about this guy, and for Aunt Alicia’s sake I have to find out what before she gets any more serious."

Sighing, Aimée nodded. "How far back do you want to go?"

"Well, Aunt Alicia first knew him when they were in high school, so can we start there?"

"In that case the best bet might be to start with the school yearbooks we have in the local history room. We’ve microfilmed copies of the school newspaper as well. How long ago did they graduate?"

"About twenty-five years ago I think, maybe a bit more." Trixie answered. "I think Aunt Alicia’s around forty-five."

Aimée led the way to the local history room. "We’ll start with a yearbook from twenty-five years ago and work back from there. Once you know for certain what years they attended Sleepyside High, you can check the newspapers for those years looking for specific articles. The historical society hasn’t indexed the school papers yet, although they have completed an index for the community paper."

As Trixie and Honey took seats at the wooden table, Aimée took several volumes of the yearbook from the shelves. "Here you go! Once you find out what years you need, come and get me and I’ll show you how to use the microfilm reader to check out the newspapers."

They found Aunt Alicia and Jeremy Reid in the graduating class picture from twenty-seven years before. Reid had been a tall, dark, handsome young man with long hair, a fringed suede jacket, and bell-bottom pants. Aunt Alicia had been much more conservative with dark hair cut in a short shag, and a neat navy jumper that reached the top of her knees. In the group photograph, Jeremy Reid had his arm around the shoulders of a slender young woman with long black hair.

"I wonder who this other girl is," Trixie pondered aloud.

Reasonable as always Honey said, "Let's look at the individual pictures and see if we can find her." Leafing through the yearbook they found the young woman’s picture.

"Patricia Maxwell." Trixie doodled thoughtfully on her notebook. "Maxwell. Isn’t that the name of the couple that owns the big old house just down the street from the school?"

"Yes it is!" Aimée answered, coming up behind them. "In fact Mr. Maxwell is the chairman of the Library Board. I don’t recall hearing anything about a daughter, although they do have a son. He runs a pharmacy in White Plains."

"Goal in life," Honey began to read the entry beside Patricia Maxwell’s picture. "To marry Jeremy Reid."

The three girls looked at each other in surprise. "But I thought Mr. Reid dated Aunt Alicia in high school," Trixie exclaimed.

"Maybe they just knew each other," Honey suggested.

"Guys, why don’t I set you up at the microfilm reader with the school newspapers from that year? There might be some gossip about who was dating who." Aimée walked over to the metal cabinet beside the microfilm reader and, sliding open one of the drawers, extracted a small white box. Taking the reel of film from the box, she carefully threaded it through the machine and switched it on.

Trixie and Honey pulled their chairs over to the microfilm reader and started going through the old newspaper, while Aimée returned to the reference desk. Carefully they scanned the copy looking for any mention of the names Reid, Maxwell, and Johnson.

"Wow! Look here, Honey, Aunt Alicia was the secretary to the Student’s Council." Trixie pointed out the article that had been written after the elections.

The two girls continued to read through the issues of the school paper. Trixie was starting to get frustrated. There just had to be some mention of Jeremy Reid, but she couldn’t find it.

"Trixie," Honey pointed excitedly at the small gossip column included in the paper on a regular basis. She read aloud, "A little birdie recently told me that Patricia Maxwell and Jeremy Reid would soon be announcing their engagement. According to my source, a close friend of the bride-to-be, they are planning to marry soon after graduation."

Trixie got up and crossed to the bookshelves.

"What are you doing, Trix?"

"Looking for the index to the Sleepyside paper that Aimée mentioned. I want to find out if they actually got married. If they did, what happened to Patricia Maxwell Reid?"

With the help of the index, Trixie and Honey soon found the announcement of the marriage between Patricia Anne Maxwell, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence Maxwell, and Jeremy Allen Reid, son of the late Mr. and Mrs. Allen Reid. Following a hunch Trixie browsed through subsequent issues of the paper, and then she found it. Six weeks after her marriage to Jeremy Reid, Patricia Maxwell Reid had vanished.

Chapter 7: The Vanishing Bride

Open-mouthed, Trixie stared at the article on the screen before her. She couldn’t believe what she was reading.

Young Bride Disappears Without a Trace

Eighteen-year-old Patricia Anne Reid, wife of Jeremy Allen Reid and daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence Maxwell of Sleepyside, has disappeared. According to her husband she was last seen when she left her home for a walk at 8:00 Thursday evening.

When she had not returned by 10:00 that evening, Reid proceeded to contact her friends and family to see if she had stopped to visit along the way. Unable to ascertain his wife’s whereabouts in that manner, Reid decided to follow the route his wife usually took during her walks but was unable to locate her.

Following failed attempts to locate his bride of six weeks, young Reid called in the police. As of yet no trace of the young woman has been found.

"Oh poor Mr. Reid," Honey said, her eyes filled with sympathetic tears. "I wonder if the police ever found her."

Wide-eyed Trixie said, "I don’t know. Let’s look in later editions and see if we can find any other stories about the case."

Quickly they checked through the next few weeks of the paper. One of the later articles reported that the police had found Mrs. Reid’s purse in the bushes by the park, but otherwise no trace of the young woman had been found.

That is when Trixie found the last article.

Patricia Anne Reid’s Body Found

The body of eighteen-year-old Patricia Anne Reid was dredged from the Hudson River by police early Monday morning. Two young boaters reported seeing the body, submerged along the east bank of the river not far from Saw Mill Road. Police were called, and divers soon exhumed the body from its watery grave.

Patricia Anne Reid had been married for just six weeks when she disappeared while on an evening walk. All efforts were made to locate her at the time of her disappearance, but the only sign of her that was found was a woven straw handbag located in the bushes at Brentwood Park.

The deceased is the wife of Jeremy Reid of 14 Brentwood Avenue, and the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence Maxwell of 2 Belmont Street. In addition to her husband and parents, she leaves to mourn her a younger brother, Gordon.

"Oh wow!" Trixie exclaimed. "I knew there was something fishy about Jeremy Reid!"

"Trixie," Honey scolded, "don’t jump to conclusions. There is no suggestion in any of these articles that Mr. Reid had anything to do with his wife’s death!"

"Well, there’s one way to find out whether he was ever a suspect," Trixie suggested.

"If you think Molinson will talk to you about a twenty-seven year old murder case, you’ve another think coming," Honey reminded. "He’ll probably yell at you for wasting his time, then tell you how cold the trail has gotten. Besides, maybe they caught the guy who did it."

Sheepishly, Trixie grinned at Honey. "I guess I am jumping to conclusions. Maybe we should read a little bit further to see what they did find out during the murder investigation."

Further reading revealed that Jeremy Reid had indeed become a suspect in his wife’s death, but that the police had been unable to prove anything. Neighbors had reported nightly arguments, and friends had occasionally noticed bruises on Patricia Reid’s face and arms. Before their marriage she had even been taken to emergency with a severely bruised eye and a split lip, but had used the old excuse of running into a door. Had Jeremy Reid beaten his wife to death during their last fight?

"Honey," Trixie began seriously, "the more I learn about this guy the less I like him. This may have happened when he was still a kid, but what if he hasn’t changed during the last twenty-seven years? What if he starts battering Aunt Alicia? For that matter, what does he want from Aunt Alicia in the first place?"

Honey looked at Trixie with sober hazel eyes. "I don’t know, Trix, but for your aunt’s sake we had better find out."

"Hey guys!" Aimée stuck her head through the doorway. "I’m done working if you’re ready to go." Noting the serious looks on the younger girls’ faces, she asked, "What’s wrong? What did you find out?"

As Trixie explained their findings, the three girls left the library to head back to Crabapple Farm.

 

Chapter 8: A Valentine’s Dance

Trixie and Helen Belden were in the kitchen washing the supper dishes when the phone rang. Drying her hands on the dish towel, Mrs. Belden picked up the phone.

"Hello." Mrs. Belden smiled. "Why, hello, Miss Trask. How are you this evening?" She listened, her head cocked to one side. "Hmmm ...." Shaking her head, she answered, "No, none of them mentioned it, I guess they’ve all forgotten with the excitement of my sister’s arrival." Smiling again, she said, "Yes, I will say something to Trixie and Aimée, I’m sure they’ll be delighted to help." Nodding, she said, "I’ll do that, you have a nice evening as well, Miss Trask."

Hanging up the telephone, Helen Belden turned to her daughter who was watching her with curiosity in her big blue eyes. "Trixie, why didn’t you say something about the Valentine’s Dance the Wheelers' are holding Friday night?"

"Valentine’s Dance, what ...?" Knocking herself on the forehead, Trixie exclaimed, "How could I be so stupid? I forgot all about it, what with Aunt Alicia coming, and the special projects I’m working on."

"Well, Miss Trask wanted to know if you two girls would be able to help put up the decorations on Thursday night. I told her that I thought you would be interested, but that I would ask and get back to her if you couldn’t make it."

"Oh gee, Moms, you know I’ll help, and Aimée, too, as long as she doesn’t have to work Thursday night."

"Aimée will help do what?" the girl asked as she walked into the kitchen in search of a drink of water.

"Decorate for Honey and Jim’s Valentine’s Dance," Trixie said excitedly.

"Valentine’s Day," Aimée said dreamily as she drifted into thoughts of her and Dan waltzing across the dance floor.

"Earth to Aimée, earth to Aimée," Trixie teased. "Are you free to help or not?"

Startled she looked up at her friend. "Help? Yeah, sure!" she agreed quickly, then thoughtfully added, "I sure wish that I had time to make myself a new dress for the dance."

"Well girls, if the two of you are free after school tomorrow, we could take a drive to White Plains to see what we can find."

"Really Moms?" Trixie asked. "Me too?"

Teasingly, Mrs. Belden answered, "Well, I guess your father and I can afford to splurge on a new dress for our only daughter. Goodness knows whether she can still fit into the last one we bought for her considering she’s been growing like a bad weed."

"Aw Moms, it’s not that bad! It’s just a little bit tight in the bust area," Trixie pointed out, slightly embarrassed.

"Don’t worry about it, Trixie. I'm pleased that you are finally taking an interest in your appearance." Mrs. Belden smiled as she headed for the living room. "And now I’d better ask your aunt and Mr. Reid if they’d like to act as chaperons at the dance before I forget."

"Mr. Reid act as a chaperon at the dance. Oh joy," Trixie muttered to Aimée, "just what we need!"

"It’s not as if you’ll be able to find out anything from any of the kids at the dance, Trix. If you’re not asking questions, he won’t be able to overhear you, and he won’t suspect that you're investigating him," Aimée said matter-of-factly.

"Investigating who?" Mart asked sticking his head through the doorway.

"Mr. Reid," Trixie imparted grudgingly, knowing that Mart would badger them until one of them broke.

Mart whistled softly. His face stern, he commented, "I sure hope you know what you’re doing, Trix. Aunt Alicia would be really hurt if she found up what you’re up to."

"If I don’t find out what he’s up to, she may get hurt physically or worse." Trixie explained what she and Honey had found at the library that afternoon.

"Oh boy," Mart groaned. "I definitely don’t like the sound of that. But surely Aunt Alicia knows about this part of his past."

"She probably knows he was married, but she might not know anything about what happened to Patricia. If you remember correctly she moved to Boston right after she finished high school," Trixie responded.

"I bet she left town because she couldn’t stand to see the guy she thought she was in love with marry someone else," Aimée posited.

"And she never came back after that, except for short visits, because she met Uncle Harry and they were married soon after she finished school," Trixie continued.

"But Moms would know about it," Mart injected.

"Mart, you know Moms wouldn’t do anything to interfere in Aunt Alicia’s relationship unless she knew for a fact that the allegations against Jeremy Reid were true. But notice that she wasn’t too happy to hear that he was Aunt Alicia’s suitor." Trixie looked levelly at the other two. "Guys, it’s up to us to find the proof that will convince Aunt Alicia to drop this guy."

Mart and Aimée nodded grimly.

"The problem is how," Mart said before striding from the room.

Trixie and Aimée followed him from the room, stopping to say goodnight to the adults before heading upstairs to do homework.

While Aimée searched a collection of Emily Dickinson’s poems for theme and symbolism, Trixie buried her nose in Love’s Desire. Avidly, Trixie pored through the pages of the book caught up in the passionate story of Dylan O’Rourke, bounty hunter and confirmed loner, and Cassidy Kane, a fiery young woman on the run from a crooked sheriff. Her breath caught as she read the words describing Dylan’s seduction of Cassidy, and she sighed as the young woman gave in.

Aimée giggled from the other bed. "Why, I definitely have a convert, don’t I?" she teased.

Trixie blushed vividly. She’d never read a romance before in her life. Personally she preferred a good Lilian Jackson Braun or Mary Higgins Clark novel, but somehow the fire of the novel ignited a corresponding flame in her. Why couldn’t real life be this wonderful?

"Aimée, is it really like that? Do you go spinning away on a wave of sensation till you reach the stars?"

The older girl cleared her throat. She wasn’t really comfortable discussing her own sexual experiences, few though they were, with the younger girl. "Ahhh ... Trixie ... I ... ahhh ... think that someday you’ll be able to answer that question for yourself. The only thing I’m going to tell you is that it’s better if you wait for the right person and the right time."

"Hmmm ... okay, Aimée," Trixie nodded. Sometimes she wondered how far Aimée and Dan’s relationship had progressed, but she wasn’t going to probe. It was obvious to anyone who saw them together that the two really cared about each other. They seemed to have some form of unspoken communication between them. She’d seen them holding hands, or touching each other in passing many times. Once she’d even surprised them in a kiss after Dan had brought Aimée home from a date. She’d been in such a hurry to talk to Aimée about something that she had rushed out onto the porch the moment she heard them reach the steps.

Walking to the dresser, Aimée searched for her hairbrush in the top drawer. Finding it she returned to the bed and, sitting cross-legged, she began to run the brush through her long strawberry-blonde curls.

Trixie watched as her friend succumbed to the rhythmic stroking of the brush. Pensively she asked, "Aimée, do you think we should continue with the experiment?"

Looking up, Aimée met Trixie’s eyes. "I don’t know, Trix. With Jim and Brian away at school it doesn’t seem to be working out that well. Mart seemed curious this morning, but as far as any major reaction to the sight of a romance novel, I haven’t seen anything."

"Maybe I’ll just let it go for now, and try it in the summer when the guys are around more often."

"Might be a good idea, Trix." Aimée yawned. "Would you mind if I turned off the overhead light, and put on the bedside lamp? I really need to get some sleep."

"Go ahead, Aimée. I feel really wiped. I think I’ll turn in for the night."

The two girls brushed their teeth, and washed their faces, before donning their nightclothes and climbing between the sheets.

Chapter 9: An Informative Trip

Tuesday afternoon Helen Belden picked the girls up after school. At the last minute Trixie had decided to ask Honey if she wanted to come along for the ride. It was a beautiful day for a drive to White Plains. The air was crisp and cold, and the sun shone brightly, turning the sky a beautiful shade of blue. Driving along the highway was made easier by the fact that the snow on road had been cleared away.

Arriving at the White Plains Shopping Mall, Helen Belden backed into a parking space not far from the doors. Turning to face the three young women in the car with her, she smiled. "Well, here we are, girls! Will one of you please try to remember where I’ve parked the car? It’s busy here today, and I prefer not to have to spend twenty minutes searching for our vehicle when we’re finished shopping."

"No problem, Moms," Trixie replied. "So what are we going to do first?"

"The first thing we’ll do is look for your dresses. Are you going to be looking for one as well, Honey?"

"Yes I am, Mrs. Belden. When I told him I was coming, Dad let me have his credit card." Honey grinned at the memory. Giggling, she said, "He told me not to wear it out, but to make certain I got everything I needed."

"Okay girls, once we find your dresses, I’ll let you loose on your own while I look for something for myself. After we can meet for coffee, then head home."

"Sounds good to me, Aunt Helen," Aimée chimed.

Exiting the car, the four beautiful women made their way across the parking lot to the Mall entrance, joining the flow of people strolling through the corridors of the indoor market place. Many of the small shops had goods and clothing on display outside the doors.

"Oh good," Mrs. Belden exclaimed. "It looks as if the merchants are having a sidewalk sale. Maybe we’ll be able to find some bargains. Now where would you like to look first, girls?"

"Young and Wild," the three girls sang out as one. Young and Wild was a popular new shop that catered to the tastes of the young people from the area. They carried attractively priced clothing in the latest fashions, as well as accessories such as shoes, makeup, jewelry, and perfume. All three young women enjoyed shopping there whenever they had a chance to visit White Plains.

Making their way to the shop as quickly as they could pass through the hustle and bustle of the crowd, the four women were soon browsing through the racks of the small store. Aimée came across the dress she wanted almost immediately. It was a simple, ankle-length column dress cut from a deep emerald green clipped velvet. Not only did the color provide the perfect setting for her reddish-gold curls, but the style emphasized her tall, slender figure.

"Oh Aimée, you look absolutely yummy in that dress," Honey gushed. "I just love the way it brings out the color of your eyes."

Honey chose a column style dress as well, but hers was made from a rich red rayon-polyester crepe. There was a simple lattice style detail at the neckline, and small covered buttons that ran down the front of the ankle-length dress.

Trixie, petite yet more curvaceous than the other two girls, was looking for something shorter than the dresses Aimée and Honey had chosen. She decided on a two-tiered dress in a beautiful Alice Blue chiffon that clung loosely to her round curves, flowing gracefully around her thighs.

"Well girls, you’ve made some excellent choices. I’m certain that you will be the Belles of the Ball," Helen Belden congratulated them. "You girls go on and look around while I try to find something for myself. Meet me at the food court in about an hour, and we’ll grab a snack before heading home."

Trixie, Honey, and Aimée left the shop together, but Aimée soon drifted off to browse through one of the craft stores. "Gee Honey, it sure is busy in here today. I hope we don’t have any trouble finding Moms and Aimée later."

"Well, at least we know where we’re supposed to meet them."

Looking around, Trixie spotted a large drugstore just ahead of them to the right. "Hmmm ... Honey, did Aimée mention what Gordon Maxwell’s pharmacy was called when she was telling us about him yesterday?"

Puzzled, Honey glanced at her friend. "Gordon Maxwell, who ...? Oh! Patricia Maxwell’s brother. No she didn’t."

"I wonder if there is any chance that the one over there is the right one." Trixie pointed toward the pharmacy.

"Trixie, there are probably a lot of drugstores in White Plains. The chances of that one being Gordon Maxwell’s are slender," Honey said doubtfully. "I guess we could go ask. Even if it isn’t, the people who run this one might be able to tell us where Maxwell’s pharmacy is."

Excitedly Trixie uttered, "Honey, we’re not going to have to ask. Look at the name Maxwell’s Pharmacy, Gordon Maxwell, Proprietor. Oh Honey, I can’t believe our luck. I just know that Gordon Maxwell will be able to tell us something about Jeremy Reid."

"I don’t mean to burst your bubble, Trixie, but what if Mr. Maxwell isn’t in today or even worse he refuses to talk to you about his sister and her husband?"

"I didn’t think of that," Trixie responded, her enthusiasm slightly deflated.

Honey suddenly smiled. "Cheer up, Trix, on the other hand maybe he will be quite happy to help make certain Jeremy Reid gets his just desserts. Let's go see if he’s in today."

Nervously they walked into the pharmacy. Looking around they spotted a middle-aged man rearranging a display in the window. They watched as carefully positioned sculpted bisque cherubs around the display of small bottles of perfume, heart-shaped bath beads, and decorative boxes of candy.

Glancing up the slender dark-haired man noticed the two girls watching him. Rising to his feet he said in a quiet voice, "I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you come in. May I help you?"

"Yes," Honey began, "could you tell us where we can find Mr. Maxwell?"

He smiled broadly. "I’m Gordon Maxwell, what can I do for you?"

Trixie stepped forward. "Hi Mr. Maxwell, I’m Trixie Belden and this is my friend Honey Wheeler. We’re from Sleepyside."

"Belden, Belden, why you must be Peter Belden’s daughter! I went to school with your father, we were on the High School ball team together. Your mother would be Helen Johnson. You look just like her when she was your age."

"I’m glad you remember my parents, Mr. Maxwell, would you by any chance remember my Aunt Alicia?"

Gordon Maxwell nodded thoughtfully and then snapped his fingers. "Alicia Johnson, why, of course! She was on the student council with my sister Patsy. I haven’t seen her in years. She left Sleepyside just after graduation, and went to Boston, I think it was."

"That’s right," Trixie confirmed her voice rising with excitement. "Actually the reason I’m here concerns my Aunt Alicia."

"Your Aunt Alicia, what could I tell you about your Aunt Alicia that you couldn’t ask your mother about?" he asked curiously.

"Actually I wanted to ask you about her suitor, Jeremy Reid."

At the sound of that name Gordon Maxwell’s demeanor changed. His smiling face clouded over, like the sun covered by a thundercloud. "Jeremy Reid," he spat, "don’t tell me a smart woman like Alicia Johnson would be fool enough to fall for an animal like Jerry Reid."

"I’m afraid so, Mr. Maxwell," Trixie said softly. "I need to find some way to show her the kind of person he really is before things go any further, they’re already engaged. Is there anything you can tell me about Jeremy Reid that will help?"

Uncertain, Gordon Maxwell watched the young woman’s face. Should he tell her what he knew about Jerry Reid? Slowly he began his story, "Jerry Reid dated my sister Patsy for two years. She was a warm, beautiful girl and she loved to be around other people. Jerry was possessive. He did everything he could to control her, telling her who she could hang around with, how to dress, and where she could go. Patsy was so besotted with him that she just wouldn’t see what he was really like. Even when he’d start hitting her she’d go back to him, saying that if she wasn’t such a stupid person doing things to displease him, he wouldn’t be hitting her."

Maxwell moaned softly, caught up in the pain of his memories. "The only stupid thing Patsy ever did was marry Jerry Reid. That’s what killed her. She left the safety of the people who loved her for the animal who beat her. They fought every night. Patsy would want to go out and visit with her friends, and Jerry wanted her where he could keep an eye on her. One night it must have gone too far, Patsy disappeared and six weeks later her body showed up in the Hudson River."

Trixie and Honey watched sympathetically as the man relived the pain of those awful days. "I think he must have hit her too hard, or pushed her so that she fell and hit her head. When the autopsy was done on her body the coroner determined the cause of death as severe head trauma. When Jerry couldn’t rouse her, he probably realized she was dead and proceeded to set up his alibi, calling her friends and asking if they had seen her. He then waited until dark, then drove to the river, submerging her body in the shallows, and tossing her purse in the bushes at Brentwood Park. This was the theory the police developed, only they couldn’t prove it."

"I’m so sorry we had to put you through this," Honey said soothingly.

"That’s not all," Maxwell said. "I’ve kept track of Jerry Reid over the years, always hoping that he’d make a mistake that would tie him to Patsy’s death. He’s not a good man, Miss Belden. He makes a practice of getting involved with lonely middle-aged women, then bleeding them dry financially. He’s been arrested a few times, and sent to prison once or twice for swindling vulnerable women out of their life’s savings. I can send you copies of the newspaper clippings and the court records I’ve gathered over the years if you give me your address."

"Hopefully that will be enough to convince Aunt Alicia to dump this guy," Trixie sighed. "Once I receive the information from you, I’ll show it to Dad and Moms, and let them approach Aunt Alicia."

"You do that, Miss Belden. Jeremy Reid is a dangerous man with a violent temper, and I’d hate to see anything happen to you or your aunt."

Trixie wrote her address out for Mr. Maxwell then the two girls left to join the others for coffee.

 

Chapter 10: A Night to Remember

"Wow! This place looks great tonight!" Mart exclaimed as the Belden group walked into the Manor House the night of the Valentine’s Dance. Garlands of red, white, and pink roses, entwined with greenery and minilights, draped the formal staircase in the foyer. A large floral bouquet sat on the hall table beside the guestbook. Heart-shaped balloons, intermingled with ribbon streamers, hung in clusters from the ceiling.

Brian helped Aimée with her coat, before the two moved to sign the guest book.

Eyes alive with excitement, Trixie made her way through the foyer to the makeshift ballroom with Mart at her elbow. The theme of hearts and flowers had been continued, the subtle use of low lighting and sparkling minilights transforming the large adjoining rooms into a romantic fairyland.

Honey, Jim, and Dan made their way across the crowded room to meet their friends.

Trixie chuckled to herself as she saw Dan’s smile falter when he didn’t see Aimée with her and Mart, then brighten as the lovely strawberry-blonde entered the room on Brian’s arm. Exchanging brief greetings with their friends the young couple glided across the dance floor in each other’s arms, oblivious to anyone else.

Jim shook his head. "I never thought that I would see the day that Dan fell for a girl hook, line, and sinker, but it looks as if Aimée has definitely captured his interest."

"Isn’t it romantic," Di gushed as she came up behind them. "I’m so glad Dan’s found somebody who really cares about him."

"I don’t know about the rest of you, but I intend to follow his example," Brian said. "Honey, would you like to join me?"

Honey smiled softly before allowing Brian to lead her out onto the floor. Mart and Diana soon joined them, leaving Trixie and Jim standing together on the sidelines.

"You sure look pretty tonight, Miss Belden." His green eyes swept over her slender but curvaceous figure with admiration.

"Thanks, Jim," she blushed slightly flustered. At times like this her insides seem to turn to mush. "You’re looking pretty debonair yourself, Mr. Frayne."

Actually he looked good enough to eat, Trixie thought to herself. The dark fabric of his tux provided the perfect foil for his red hair and green eyes. His smile showing off his even white teeth, and relaxing the stubborn lines of his handsome face.

"Would you like to dance, beautiful?" he said drolly, pretending to twirl an imaginary mustache and eliciting a giggle from Trixie. "Aw ... that’s much better. I thought you were turning intense and serious on me."

"Oh Jim," she exclaimed softly, "stop teasing."

Gently he tapped her on the chin. "Then keep smiling, Blue Eyes, tonight’s a night for happy thoughts." Pulling her into his arms he whirled her out onto the dance floor.

"Mmmm ... this is nice Jim." She laid her head on his shoulder, enjoying the graceful movement of their bodies as they danced together. As his breath stirred the blonde curls on top of her head she breathed deeply, inhaling the clean, male scent wafting up into her nostrils. It felt so good just to be held by Jim. She missed him so much when he was away at school.

"A penny for your thoughts, Trix." Jim smiled against her hair. With his luck she was probably thinking about some mystery she was on the scent of.

Looking up at him she said dreamily, "I was just thinking about how much I miss you when you’re gone. Things were so much better when you and Brian were at Sleepyside High too."

"I miss you too, Trixie. I never realized how hard it would be to go away and leave you behind," he admitted softly.

Quietly she asked, "Jim, do you think this is love?" She buried her head against his shoulder again, suddenly feeling shy, afraid to see the look on his face.

Lifting her chin, he looked into her big blue eyes, his own glowing with green fire. "For me it is, Trixie," he whispered stroking the line of her jaw with his thumb. Remembering where they were he pulled away slightly. It wouldn’t do for her family to see the intensity of his feelings for her. She was so young, but loving her he would wait for her.

*     *     *

Dreamily the young couple danced together, oblivious to the loving eyes that watched their every step. Peter Belden smiled down at his golden-haired wife as her blue eyes followed the slender form of their daughter dancing with the red-haired young man. "I don’t think we have to worry about those two for a couple of years yet, Helen," he murmured. "Jim has a good head on his shoulders, and he’s not going to rush our little girl into anything."

"Oh Peter, it’s just that Trixie’s so impulsive. She jumps into situations she doesn’t understand without considering the fact that there might be consequences." Helen glanced up worriedly at her husband.

"Well, Helen, in this case I don’t think Jim’s going to allow Trixie’s spontaneity to get out of hand."

"But Peter, he’s still a teenage boy, and you know what they can be like."

Peter Belden laughed gently. "In that case, Helen, you should be just as worried about your sons as you are your daughter."

Sheepishly Helen smiled back at him. "I guess I should, but then it’s not the same with boys as it is with girls. I hate to think of my baby girl getting pregnant before she’s had a chance to follow her dreams. Then again I’d wouldn’t want that to happen to Honey, Diana, or Aimée either." She chuckled, "Peter, it comes right down to this, I'm just too young to be a grandmother yet."

Nodding his head in agreement, he said seriously, "The only thing we can do Helen is make certain that they know how to protect themselves when they do decide to have sex. They’re all responsible kids. We’ve raised them to think for themselves."

"I guess you’re right, Peter," she sighed laying her head against his shoulder.

 

Chapter 11: An Overheard Conversation

"Hey Trixie," Jim said quietly, "would you like to get something to drink then get a bit of air?"

Looking up at him dreamily, she nodded. "That will be great. It’s getting awful stuffy in here with all these people."

Careful not to trample on anyone’s toes, the young couple made their way toward the refreshment room.

"Ohhh ... that’s better! I can actually breathe again. The woman dancing beside us was wearing such strong perfume, I was beginning to choke," Trixie muttered.

The other Bob-Whites had already made their way out of the ballroom and were clustered around the buffet table.

"Hi guys!" Mart greeted them. "The food’s great! As usual Cook has surpassed herself. We even left some for you."

"You better have, Mart Belden," Jim teased. "If I wasn’t able to get any food in my own house, I would be pretty upset with you."

"Say, have any of you seen Aunt Alicia and Mr. Reid around?" Trixie asked curiously.

Aimée nodded, trying to chew the food in her mouth enough so that she could swallow it. "When I last saw them they were sitting at the table near the door where we came in." Frowning she added, "Aunt Alicia didn’t look too happy, and I think Mr. Reid was angry. His mouth looked rather grim." She shivered.

"I wonder if maybe they had a disagreement," Di said innocently.

"God, I hope not!" Trixie exclaimed vehemently.

Startled Brian looked up at her. "What do you mean by that, Trixie?"

"What I mean is I hope Jeremy Reid isn’t mad at Aunt Alicia, because Jeremy Reid is the kind of man who uses his fists when he gets angry."

"Surely, he wouldn’t hit a woman," Dan said outraged at the thought.

"Yes, he would," Trixie responded soberly. Carefully she explained to the others about Patricia Maxwell, and the allegations of abuse that Gordon Maxwell had presented.

Seriously, Jim looked at Trixie and Honey. "I don’t know if I like the idea of you two girls going after this guy by yourself."

"We aren’t," Trixie denied. "After I get the material from Gordon Maxwell, I’m going straight to Dad."

"Well, at least Brian and I will be around this week to keep an eye on you two. It’s spring break so we don’t have any classes." Shaking his finger at them, Jim said, "So if either of you learn anything else, you come to one of us guys first. There is no excuse for acting alone."

"Yes Jim," the two girls said meekly.

"Trixie," Jim turned to look at her, "do you want to get your coat and go out for a breath of fresh air?"

"Sure Jim," she answered, standing and following him into the hall.

Quickly they got into their outdoor clothes and left the house. Jim guided her around the wrap-around porch to the porch swing at the other side of the house. Clearing off the snow, the two of them sat looking out at the clear dark sky. Moonlight danced off the crystalline structure of the fallen snow, sparkling in the darkness.

Trixie watched the steam of her breath as she exhaled. Breathing deeply she turned to face Jim as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Cold, she cuddled against the warm strength of his body, enjoying the peace of the moment. Slowly he traced the line of her lips with a slender finger, before lowering his own to hers in a tender kiss.

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the first tentative movements of Jim’s lips. Gently he nibbled on her lower lip with his teeth, before soothing the tender area with tongue. The sensation was so sweet that she gasped, opening her lips to his questing tongue.

Jim groaned, and raised his head. "I love you, Trixie Belden," he whispered, planting a soft kiss on the tip of her nose before burying his face in her hair.

Quietly they sat there in each other’s arms. It felt so good just to be held by Jim.

Raised voices filtered through the cold air. The two young people stilled, listening to the argument that raged in the shadow of the trees at the edge of the driveway.

"Listen, Reid," a growling voice warned, "either you get the money to me by the end of the week or you pay the consequences. The boss is tired of waiting for you to reel in the big fish so he can get his money."

"I couldn’t push too hard at first, Stony," Jeremy Reid’s tenor voice whined. "Alicia Hamilton isn’t a stupid woman, she’s more likely to catch on than some of the others were."

"Then you should have picked an easier pigeon to fleece, Jerry old boy," Stony mocked.

"I thought it would be easier, you oaf! The fat cow’s been panting after me since high school, how was I to know she wouldn’t get those lottery winnings right away?"

"Just make certain you come up with the fifty grand by the end of the week, Reid, or you’ll be sorry."

Trixie and Jim watched as a big, bulky shadow moved down the driveway while the slender one moved toward the house. Quickly they ducked to avoid being seen.

"So that’s why Jeremy Reid is interested in Aunt Alicia," Trixie hissed.

"Didn’t you know anything about the lottery, Trix?"

She shook her head vigorously. "She never mentioned anything while I was around, though she may have told Moms. After all, why would she keep it a secret from her own family?"

"She was probably waiting until she actually got the money, then she was going to surprise you all," Jim suggested.

"There must have been something in the Boston papers, and Mr. Reid must have seen it and remembered her. The con-man that he is, he probably thought that if he met her again she would welcome an old friend with open arms."

"I wonder if Stony’s boss is a loan shark," Jim said thoughtfully.

"That or else Mr. Reid has some really big gambling debts." Trixie shivered. "What are we going to do, Jim?"

"Wait until Monday to get the package, then go to your father with everything you know."

"But what if Mr. Reid acts before then? How do we stop him from getting away with Aunt Alicia’s money?"

 

Chapter 12: Like a Thief in the Night

Trixie was on edge. She stirred restlessly under the warm covers of her bed. Was she doing the right thing in waiting to tell her father about Mr. Reid? If she told him now, would he believe her?

Pounding her pillow with her fist, she tried to fluff it up again. The stupid thing felt as if it were filled with rocks, rather than feathers. Sighing, she rolled onto her other side.

Aimée was sleeping peacefully in the next bed. Her deep, even breathing was the only sound in the room, other than the ticking of the old clock out in the hallway.

"This is ridiculous," Trixie muttered fiercely to herself. Sitting up, she slipped out of bed and padded softly out of the bedroom on bare feet. "Maybe if I make myself some warm milk, it will help me sleep."

Making her way quietly down the stairs, she paused breathlessly as a loose tread squeaked beneath her foot. "Just what I need to do, wake up everyone else in the house," she mumbled under her breath. Finally, she reached the foot of the stairs and tiptoed quietly into the kitchen.

Grabbing a mug from the cupboard, she crossed to the refrigerator to fill it with milk before popping it into the microwave. As she waited for it to heat she once again pondered the problem that was swirling through her brain. Knowing Mr. Reid’s plans, was it safe to wait any longer to tell her father? That man she and Jim had seen with him tonight had seemed pretty shady. What would Reid do to get the money he needed from Aunt Alicia if she decided not to give it to him? Would he use one of them as leverage?

The thought of Bobby, or any member of her family, being hostage to that man’s greed was too much for Trixie. She just had to tell her father tomorrow morning!

The microwave beeped shrilly. She’d forgotten about that. Maybe she should have warmed the milk on the stove. Taking the mug from the microwave, she sipped pensively at the milk as she listened to the night noises. At first things seemed so quiet, but if you really listened, you could hear all kinds of things: Aunt Alicia’s occasional snores coming from the spare room, the tick of the clock, the hum of the refrigerator, and the quiet scratching sound at the kitchen door.

Scratching sound! Trixie jerked from her reverie, eyes wide with fear. Was someone trying to break into the house? She listened carefully, as the quiet scratching was followed by a muttered curse. What could she do? There was no way she could make it upstairs to her family without being seen or heard. The same went for the telephone.

Biting down on her lip to keep from crying out, Trixie glanced wildly around the kitchen. There must be someplace to hide. Her eyes lit upon the broom closet, and memories of hiding there to avoid going to school filtered through her mind. Could she still fit in that little space?

Dashing to the closet, she managed to slip into the small space in the nick of time. Silently blessing the fates, she waited breathlessly as she heard quiet footsteps enter the kitchen.

A man’s voice whispered loudly, "Stony, how did I let you talk me into this? It just won’t work!"

"Quiet, you fool," Stony growled. "Someone will hear you if you don’t keep your voice down."

"We can’t pull it off. They’ll know it was me, because I’m the only one who knows about the lottery and the family."

Jeremy Reid! Alarm bells were going off in Trixie’s head. What were the two men up to?

"Reid, you said yourself that the woman wouldn’t just fork over the money. You’re smart and I like you, so I don’t want to have to break your legs when you don’t pay up, so I came up with a plan for getting the money for you."

Peeking through the louvers of the door, Trixie watched as the big man towered threateningly over Jeremy Reid. The slender man cowered fearfully away from him.

"All right, Stony, all right! Don’t get excited." Jeremy Reid tried desperately to placate the man.

"We are going ahead as planned, Jerry. We snatch the youngest of the brats, what’s his name. Bobby, that’s it! He’ll be less trouble. Then we ask the rich broad for one hundred grand in ransom. Fifty for you to pay the boss, and twenty-five for each of us."

Trixie’s breath came out with a panicked sob. Oh no! She heard her voice scream in her head as Stony looked up. Cowering in the closet she prayed frantically that he wouldn’t look for her.

"What was that?" he asked suspiciously. Crossing to the closet, he yanked open the door, and dragged Trixie into the room. Pulling her slender body against his he held her there with one hand pressing cruelly into the tender flesh of her stomach, and the other clamped over her mouth.

"Well, well, what have we here. A willing volunteer?" His gravely voice rose in snide humor.

Trixie squirmed against the granite hardness of his body. He chuckled cruelly. "I think I’d much rather take the little girl, Jerry. It is the Belden girl and not the other one, isn’t it?"

She watched her eyes wide with fright as Jeremy Reid nodded, licking his lips nervously.

"Well, then, let's get going," he said, starting to move toward the door dragging Trixie with him.

"I don’t think so, Buster!" an authoritative female voice said from the doorway as the kitchen was suddenly flooded with light.

Trixie blinked back the tears of relief that filled her eyes, as she saw the rotund figure of Aunt Alicia step into the kitchen carrying great-grandfather’s hunting rifle. She was an imposing figure as she filled the doorway, her head garbed in a helmet of rollers and her eyes blazing with amber fire.

"Unhand my niece, you blackguard!" she ordered crisply. "One of you boys phone the police," she called back over her shoulder.

As Stony’s grip on her loosened, Trixie eased away from him and slipped around Aunt Alicia and into the arms of her waiting mother. Moms held her close, and Trixie felt the tears come. Softly she sobbed against her mother’s shoulder.

"The police are on their way, Aunt Alicia," Brian said softly as he returned from his father’s study.

"Thank you, Brian." Noting a furtive movement out of the corner of her eye, she blared, "Jeremy Reid! Where in the dickens do you think you’re going? You’ve a date with a nice man whose going to give you a pair of silver bracelets to wear."

Sirens could be heard screaming along Glen Road. Flashing lights could be seen as the patrol car pulled up the driveway to Crabapple Farm. The young officer who arrived at the door reached for his gun as he found himself staring down the barrel of Aunt Alicia’s rifle.

Sergeant Molinson, stepping up behind him, rested a restraining hand on his arm. "It’s okay Mulroney, the lady’s on our side," he said dryly. "Mrs. Hamilton, put down that gun now, before you accidentally shoot someone."

"Sergeant, if I ever shoot someone, it won’t be accidental." She smiled widely. "My Daddy taught me to handle a gun when I was younger than Trixie, and living in the city has convinced me to keep my skills honed."

Trixie stared at Aunt Alicia open-mouthed. Her aunt actually knew how to handle a gun. Unbelievable!

Alicia Hamilton chuckled softly at the look on her niece’s pretty face. "Don’t be so surprised, Trixie, I was a lot like you when I was your age, only not so much of a tomboy. It just wasn’t acceptable in our household."

Molinson and Mulroney led the two would-be kidnappers away in handcuffs, and the family gathered around the kitchen table while Helen Belden prepared a pot of hot chocolate for all of them. A quiet knock sounded at the kitchen door, and Peter Belden let in two subdued teens.

Jim explained, "I was up getting a drink of water when I noticed the police car pull into the driveway. Assuming it was one of Trixie’s mysteries catching up with her again, I was more than a little worried so I decided to come down and see what was happening."

Honey added, "I heard him moving around getting dressed, and once Jim told me about the police I had to come too."

"Oh Jim!" Trixie exclaimed. "It was that terrible man Stony, and Mr. Reid. They were going to kidnap Bobby, so that Aunt Alicia would have to give them some of the lottery money."

"Lottery money!" Mart gasped. "Aunt Alicia won the lottery!"

"Yes, Mart, I did," Alicia Hamilton shook her head sadly. "And look at all the trouble it’s caused. What I don’t understand is how Trixie knows about it."

Sheepishly Trixie and Jim explained how they had overheard Stony and Mr. Reid talking while they were out on the porch that evening. She then told her family about the investigation into Jeremy Reid’s past, the information she had uncovered, and the expected package from Gordon Maxwell.

"Dad, I was going to tell you about it tomorrow morning, but then that terrible Stony character showed up with Mr. Reid," she said plaintively.

"What I don’t understand, Trixie," he began sternly, "is why you didn’t approach me, your mother, or your Aunt Alicia when you found out."

"I didn’t want to hurt Aunt Alicia without having some proof of the allegations I was making about her fiancé. Until I learned about the lottery tonight, I couldn’t figure out any reason why Mr. Reid was interested in Aunt Alicia, other than that he might have genuine feelings for her. If that was the case, I didn’t want to interfere with a loving relationship."

"Oh Trixie! What are we ever going to do with you?" her father sighed in mild exasperation.

The End

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