Chapter 10: Unbelievable!

Jim nodded at Trixie, and said, "I believe my co-president would like to begin?"

"Thanks, Jim, I would. First of all, this may come as a surprise to some of you, but I think, and Jim agrees, that we should re-form the s of the Glen. I think we’ve been too long without each other, and forgotten what we once stood for. We’re dedicated to being one big family and like any family, I guess, we’ve had some squabbles, but we need to remember that it’s all for one and one for all. Hallie, you were never an official member of our group, but it’s my hope that you’ll join us, officially. There are important things to discuss and I want to start fresh today. Not that I want to forget the past, but I hope that we can put aside our differences and work together like we once did. There’s a family in our community that needs help. I want to find out what happened to Molinson, and I think you would like to, also."

Trixie took a deep breath. So far, no one had bolted. "I’m trying to arrange for some indefinite vacation time, as is Jim, so we’ll be here in Sleepyside as a home base. I know that the rest of you have commitments, jobs, outside of this little town, but your support will be very important to me in the coming days."

The BWGs looked around at each other, amazed. Trixie looked at Jim, who nodded in encouragement. Dan looked slightly puzzled, Di looked excited, Brian and Mart looked resigned to the inevitable, Hallie had a closed off expression, and Honey wore no expression, just curiosity. "Well, any comment?"

"I have a comment!" stated Di. "Actually, it’s more like a combination request/comment."

"Go ahead," Trixie encouraged. In the old days, Di was shy about inputting her two cents’ worth.

"Well," she drawled. "I can stay with Mummy and Daddy as long as I want, or at least through the end of August. I’ve been offered a small part on a new series – prime time!" she added excitedly. "And guess what, I’ve decided to accept! It’ll be so great – I’m going to play a Federal Agent. They already shot the pilot, and the network has picked it up for at least 8 episodes as a mid-season replacement. So anyway, I can stay here and follow you and Honey and Hallie around, pick up the lingo a bit, and really help, I hope? If that wouldn’t bother you?" she finished.

Trixie flushed, slightly embarrassed to think of Di trying to portray any of her mannerisms on TV. "Uh, I guess that’s okay, Di, but you were a real contributor to our successes back in the old days. Don’t you remember?"

"That was kid stuff," Di replied airily. "Now you gals really kick butt, and I need to shadow you, learn your real on-the-job mannerisms, figure out your lingo and stuff. Make it real. I really want this show to succeed. It’s an hour-long drama. The work schedule is so much lighter than the soaps. Besides, I really needed to quit, to break away from Wives and Mistresses I was just getting typecast, you know?"

"Di, I think that is a wonderful opportunity for you – I’m all for it," said Jim. "That is, shadowing Trix, Honey and Hallie would be a good learning experience in some ways, but as Trix said, you do have personal knowledge about solving cases. Don’t sell yourself short."

Di flashed Jim one of her killer smiles. After a thoughtful silence, Honey said, "Actually, Di, I might be in your boat. Temporarily unemployed. I’ve given my notice at ATF, so I was planning on staying at Manor House through the summer until I decide what to do with my life." She turned to smile at her childhood friend. "So Trixie, I can be here to play detective with you. And help you in any way for this job, Diana," she added.

Mentally, Trixie breathed a sigh of relief. She may just win them all over to her idea, and she knew she’d need them and that they all needed each other, even if they didn’t know it yet. She felt, deep down, that the BWGs had drifted too far apart, and hoped that this case had other results besides finding Molinson’s killer. Personal results.

Brian had been staring at Trixie silently, and was surprised by Honey giving up the ATF job. Finally, in a quiet voice, he said, "I may as well announce now that I’ll be staying in Sleepyside, too. I talked to Dr. Ferris last night and it’s all set. I’m a partner in his practice, and when he retires in two or three years, I’ll have it free and clear. He’s not charging me a dime, so long as I keep up the free clinic on Tuesdays and agree to disagree with managed care when it’s detrimental to the patient."

Amid the chorus of congratulations, Brian found that Honey was staring at him silently, questions in her eyes.

Mart cleared his throat, "Attention, attention please! I’d like to announce that I still must work in the city! Sorry and all that," he quipped in a faux-British accent. "However I do believe that I can arrange some flex time to be here when needed, and I do have weekends off, so I can wholeheartedly participate in some of the activities."

"Dan, Hallie, that leaves you two." Trixie said lightly, trying not to betray her feelings.

"I’m not sure, Trixie," Dan admitted. "I mean, I have a lot of clients in the city who are depending on me, I really need to work, so I’m not sure how much I can get away but I can always try for weekends at least."

"I hope this case doesn’t take very long, actually," admitted Trixie. "I want to move ahead with my life, but I feel we owe it to the Molinsons. Hallie?"

Hallie had her head bent down, and when she lifted it, tears were streaming down her face. Trixie was at her side instantly. "Hallie, what is it?"

"Oh Trixie, don’t you know? When I was a kid I would’ve given anything to be a ‘real’ , even long-distance. Why do you think I moved to Sleepyside? I was always so jealous of you guys and all your activities. And now, it’s bittersweet, isn’t it? For me to be a part of your legendary group after all this time and for this reason? Because the Chief got murdered."

Trixie hugged Hallie. Jim, sensing that the female emotions might get carried away, took control of the meeting to get it back on track, knowing that was the point. "So we’re all in it?"

Everyone nodded assent and said, "Yes."

"Well then, Trix, why don’t you fill us in on what you found out this morning?"

"Okay, well then. I jogged to Sleepyside this morning and did a little reconnoiter at the PD this a.m." Trixie began.

"Wait, PD?" said a perplexed Di.

"Sorry, Police Department." Trixie clarified. "I wanted to know what’d been done regarding the Molinson case, what authority was handling the investigation. Looks like State police only have been called in on this one, nothing Federal at this point, though that may change. I talked to Spider at length. He’s been promoted to Chief in place of Molinson, and his brother Tad is now the Chief of Detectives. I also found that they’re trying to handle the investigation completely in-house, or with as little interference as possible. Spider said he’d call when he needed my help."

"Tad?" Hallie questioned. "But I would’ve thought that Bob Dixon had more seniority?"

Trixie looked at Hallie. "Hmm, I don’t know if Dixon got passed over, or turned it down. That may be something worth checking into. Meantime, Spider says no leads at all on the case. I can’t believe they didn’t find spent shells at the scene, but whoever it is must not be an amateur. Three shots, all in the victim," It was easier to think of him as just a ‘victim’ and not someone she knew, thought Trixie.

"They’ve got the bullets out of the body, of course, and powder burns indicate it was a not a high-powered assault rifle, but we know that cop-killer bullets were used. Spider’s trying to play it off as a random act, maybe to reassure the locals or the men, but I’m suspicious of that. The thing is, how would someone know Molinson would be there that night?" Trixie looked at Hallie here, for some input. Hallie should know.

"I," Hallie gulped. Under the table, Dan squeezed her arm in reassurance, giving her the strength to continue. "I, almost anyone in town might have figured that out. It was my last patrol as a uni. I got my gold shield so I was finishing up that shift. I was supposed to start Monday in the detective unit. Tad was supposed to be my partner. Everyone knew. And everyone knows that Molinson likes to take the last ride with a uni who’s been promoted. Sort of his farewell gesture or maybe his congratulatory gesture, to remind us that in a way, detectives, unis, vice, we’re all in it together."

"I’m sorry, I don’t get it. What’s a gold shield?" asked Brian. Di looked at him gratefully. She had no idea either.

"Gold shield," answered Honey, "that’s what you get in a PD when you’re promoted to detective. You take a test and then a month or so later, you find out. If you pass, you’re assigned a gold shield. I didn’t even know you were trying for it, Hal. I’m impressed, congratulations. Aren’t you the first female detective on the squad?"

"I would be, or I am, I guess. That is, when they take me off administrative leave for trauma. Standard procedure, but I’d feel better if I were at the station house, working, rather than sitting around waiting to be cleared for active duty."

"Have you even had to go to psych yet?" asked Honey. "Isn’t that SOP?" Seeing the bewildered looks, she added, "Standard Operating Procedure."

"Yeah, my psych eval’s in ten days. So I’m supposed to ‘relax’ and take my mind off it. That’s a bit unlikely though." Hallie replied.

"I know it’s rough Hallie, but can you go over it again for us?" Jim asked gently.

"Yeah, sure. I must’ve gotten my letter last Monday, saying that I had the shield. I was ecstatic, and most everyone was so happy for me. Not too much joking about being the lone female on the squad or anything. Molinson announced it at roll call, and that he’d be my ride-along Friday night. Like I said, that was his tradition. I was working the 3 to 11 Friday, so he did too. You know, normally we’re alone in our rides. Sleepyside’s just not that big or dangerous to need two per car. Anyway, I was sort of dreading the shift, just because I was worried about doing something wrong. Molinson has a way of making you nervous."

"Don’t I know it!" exclaimed Trixie.

Hallie continued, "But he was great, giving me advice, talking about old times and old cases. It was actually a lot of fun. About 9 or so, we stopped in Wimpy’s for a pee break and some shakes to take in the car. About 9:30, we got word of some suspicious activity on Louis Road. You know it?"

The BWGs knew it well, since it had been the site of some of their youthful adventures.

"Well, about halfway towards the dead end, the engine just sort of conks out. I’d been having difficulties with my ride, but nothing like this. I’d been driving before Wimpy’s, but the Chief had taken over there. He got out to check under the hood. I radioed our 10-20 into dispatch and then leaned down to pop the hood. You know how those darn police cars are, you really have to get underneath the steering column and fiddle to get to the hood release – they think it deters battery theft. As I was leaning down, with one hand on the radio and the other grabbing for the release, I heard a shot. I know a gun shot when I hear it - I stayed down, and radioed it in. But, I couldn’t see the Chief and I knew he was out there like a sitting duck." Hallie paused for a moment, taking a breath and gathering her strength. Dan smiled reassuringly at her.

"Two more shots popped pretty quickly. It was coming from my left, maybe up a little rise into the woods. I crawled across the seat, opened the passenger door and climbed out. Another unit must’ve been close by, because I could hear the sirens already. I got out, and," Hallie’s breath hitched here as she struggled to maintain her composure, "Chief was lying on the ground, blood coming out of his chest, and…" Tears were streaming down Hallie’s face. Dan put an arm around her and pulled her close, patting her back as she sobbed.

"He was wearing a vest?" Honey asked. Trixie nodded yes. This part was hard for her, too.

"Yes," she whispered. "I saw the photos the morgue took. It," Trixie’s face blanched, but she went on, knowing they had to hear it, "one hit the back of his head, it was…." Jim covered Trixie’s hand with his own larger, freckled one. He gave it a squeeze.

"It’s okay, princess, I think they have the picture," he stated.

Mart really wanted to make a comment on the "princess" moniker, but he concentrated on the task at hand. "So whomever it was, knew that Molinson wore body armor, to use the cop-killers and go for a head shot just to make sure?" he asked.

"Seems likely," Honey agreed. "Which is scary. It means it was someone who knew Molinson’s habits."

"Possibly," agreed Hallie, a little more calmly. "But there’s no reason they couldn’t have been trying to hit any officer and figured that we all wore body armor. I certainly wear my vest, and even for people who don’t regularly, Friday nights are always a good time to have it on, even in the summer when it’s beastly hot. But the shot wasn’t just lucky. Three shots fired, two into his chest and one in his head. In the dark – that’s a professional, because you can be sure Molinson was crouched down at some point."

"Is this a pattern of any sort? Any other recent killings that involve cops that we know of?" asked Dan.

"No, I’m pretty sure not," Mart said.

Dan looked at him and said, "How can you be sure?"

"Dan-O, I work for a paper! One thing I can do is research on crime statistics and patterns. Our system probably rivals at least the Sleepyside PD’s."

"So what’s the next step, Trixie?" asked Brian.

"The next step, at this point, is to keep our eyes and ears open. Honey, we’ll need any contacts at ATF you may have, to find out if any cop killer bullets are missing from known stores, or if any large movements of that type of ammo have been made. Hallie, just keep trying to remember anything you can about that night and if anyone has a grudge against you or Molinson. It sounds suspicious to me, like you were lured out there that night. Was there really something wrong with your ride? I’ll try to nose around, and maybe you can too. I’ll find out where the car is. Any recent prison releases or their family members who’re ticked? Any high profile cases?"

"I can help with that too, go through any of my files from Sleepyside," offered Dan.

"I didn’t know you practiced in town, Dan," Jim commented.

Hallie threw Dan a fulminating glance and said, "Yes, he defends all the well-connected criminals in town. High profile, lots of money, our boy Dan has turned into the Johnnie Cochran of Sleepyside."

Jim, sensing a little tension over the subject, let Hallie’s observations pass unremarked. "Dan, whatever you can muster up ethically, let us know. Mart, same thing, dig through those old newspaper files, what are they called? Graveyards?"

Mart nodded and said, "Morgues. Can do."

Trixie debated bringing up her bizarre letter, but decided to mention it to Jim and Honey later, to see what their spin was on it. "Say, Di, how ‘bout doing a ride-along with me, Mad-Dog, and Hal? We’ll go up to Louis Road and check it out again."

"Mad-Dog?" inquired Dan in politely disbelieving tones. Honey blushed at this.

"Oops, let the cat out of the bag, did I, ‘Maddy’?" grinned Trixie. The BWGs, who’d all been getting up to leave, sat back down.

"This I gotta hear," said Hallie.

"Me too!" exclaimed Di. Now this is the stuff that would help me stay in character, debutante by day, killer detective by night? she wondered. Almost like a superhero. She needed to think of a nickname for her TV character and make the writers work it in…

"…so that’s how I got the nickname," Honey finished. "Most everyone just calls me ‘Maddy’ at the Bureau, but occasionally the guys still call me Mad-Dog."

"Wait!" wailed Di, who’d been mulling over her new TV character. "I missed the entire explanation! Can we go over it again? This would be so great for my character, Kat Kaylor. She could be, uh,"

"Kitty Kat?" suggested Mart.

Di gave him yet another dirty look, "No, Martin, I was thinking of Kick-ass Kat or Killer Kat…I’ll think of something."

"Tell you what, Di," said Honey cheerfully, "I’ll tell you all about it on the way up to the garage to grab my car. Meet you up there, Trix. Come on, Hal." Honey marshaled her troops hoping to give her brother and best friend some more quality time alone. Initially, she was hurt by them not confiding in her, but she came to the realization that this was new for them too, so she’d cut them some slack and grill them individually later. The air was practically sizzling between them, and she wanted to encourage that into something more permanent. Really, she worried about both of them, single so long…you’ve been single all your life, too, missy, said the voice in her head. Yeah, but I’ve had dates, serious boyfriends, and one nearly real relationship, that’s more than Trixie she argued with the voice, but you’ve only taken one lover, and that was years ago, the voice argued back.

 

 

Chapter 11: Wouldn’t It Be Nice?

"Wasn’t that nice of Mad-Dog to give us a few minutes to ourselves?" Trixie teased Jim after the other men departed.

"She arranged this?"

"Men can be SO dense, I swear. Yes, your sister, ‘Mad-Dog’ Wheeler, is practically pushing you into my arms, Jim," Trixie replied.

"Huh. Wow! Well, that’s encouraging." Inside he was still reeling about Honey’s nickname, Mad-Dog, and what she’d done to earn that.

"So?" Trixie inquired. Seeing that Jim was lost in thought, she decided to pounce, calculating that she could be at the garage in two minutes at a dead run, and they’d probably not leave without her for 15, so 13 minutes, what to do? She pounced.

Meanwhile, Mart and Brian walked back to the farm. Dan walked through the woods to Maypenny’s cottage, where he stayed when he came to town. Mr. Maypenny was getting on in years, but still lived independently in his cottage. He had help now, with the two Delanoy kids assisting after school and weekends. Dan had a nice loft in Manhattan, but when he had work in Sleepyside, he liked to stay at the cottage with Maypenny. He said it was to ‘save money’ but really, Dan wanted to make sure that Maypenny was getting what he needed.

Mart kicked a pebble in the path and finally voiced out loud his thoughts. "Jeez, Trixie and Jim. Do ya think it’s serious? I mean, when Bobby said it, I thought he might be teasing us, not about them having diner, but about the public display of affection – Main Street, for crying out loud."

Brian was lost in his own thoughts of ‘Maddy’ Wheeler. "Do you think I even have a chance with her?"

"What?" gaped Mart, "Her who? Trixie? Your sister?"

Brian, realizing what Mart had been talking about, said, "No you moe-ron not Trixie! Honey, Maddy, whatever she’s calling herself. Do you think I have a chance?"

Mart was silent. Should he say what he knew? But he didn’t know everything, so finally he said, "Well, Bri, I’d say you had your chance with her, more than once. And, well, what you did to her was unforgivable. At least, for me, that’s an unforgivable offense."

Mart’s probably right, he seems to know women, thought Brian. But still… "So whatever happened with you?"

Mart looked at Brian uncomfortably. How had he found out? "Look, Brian, it’s not what you’re thinking. It was just that one night, in Nebraska…"

By this time, they were near the old barn that served as the Beldens’ detached garage. At Mart’s comments, Brian lost control. He grabbed Mart by the collar of his t-shirt and hauled him against the wall. "What do you MEAN ‘It was just the one night’? Are you saying you took advantage of Honey?"

Mart, barely breathing, was astonished. Obviously, he’d miscalculated. Brian had never looked so pissed. Mart, being Mart, decided to risk a little more.

"No one takes advantage of ‘Mad-Dog’ Wheeler, if you weren’t paying attention about a half hour ago to the story! And what’s it to you? You dumped her for Charity and broke her heart. Honey’s a free agent," oh what a great pun, he thought. But obviously under appreciated by my elder sibling who is now really cutting off my windpipe.

*     *     *

"Thanks again for explaining your nickname, Honey. Or should I call you ‘Mad-Dog’ from now on, to stay in character?" Di asked impishly. Honey smiled.

"Call me Honey – it’s what I grew up with. When people say ‘Maddy’ sometimes I look for my mother. It’s really great, this TV series you’ve been telling us about. But what I really want to know is how did it feel to have Ricky Martin as your escort to the Daytime Emmys this year? He’s scrumptious. How do you know him?"

Di smiled. "Oh actually, I don’t really know him. His handlers called and wanted to know if I’d be his date. He’d been getting too much press with that teenage girl, with the big, uh, frontal lobes, so they wanted to diffuse it by him being seen with a more ‘mature’ woman, and my coloring and his really go well together. We never even kissed."

Honey was bewildered by this kind of a date, and Hallie snorted, "His ‘handlers’? Sounds like he’s a show dog."

"Have you been talking to Mart?" Di bristled.

"Well, I talk to Mart a lot, but what specifically?" asked Hallie.

"Hmm, good deflection of a direct question, I’ll have to remember that when I’m ‘Kat Kaylor.’ But specifically, Hallie, I mean, has Mart said anything about me, or maybe the men I date?"

"Noooo," Hallie drawled. "But why would he? I mean, he’s not anything to you, right? Other than a friend?"

"Right, just friends," commented Di, but a bit forlornly.

"You know Di, I saw Mart a few weeks ago, before all this, and he told me he was ready to settle down," Honey probed.

"Where did you see Mart? I thought you told me you’d been outposted to Nebraska for some kinda Post Office inspection or something?" queried Di.

Honey chuckled. Di was so, well, Di! "I saw Mart in Nebraska – he was there too. And I was working with some Postal Inspectors on an arms shipment that some idiot out in the stix tried to ship through the mail. The box broke open and guns fell out in the GMF floor, and to top it off, according to the bill of lading the idiot had on the outside, there were 10 pistols, but we only recovered eight which means two may’ve ‘walked off’ with Postal employees."

"GMF?" asked Hallie. "You’ve lost me on that."

"I don’t even know what ‘ATF’ stands for, Hallie," admitted Di.

Honey explained, "Oh, I forget, acronyms are so, well part of our culture as an agent. You’ll need to take notes, Di," she teased. "Anyway, GMF is Post Office lingo for ‘general mail facility’ it’s where a lot of mail gets routed, like a hub, and ATF, my branch, is ‘Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms.’"

Honey enthusiastically started to explain the US Postal system to Hallie and Di, but Di didn’t want to be sidetracked. "Wait, what was Mart doing in Nebraska? Isn’t that near Canada or something?

"Oh, well, that’s top secret," Honey confided. "I could tell you, but –"

"- then I’d have to kill you," Trixie finished as she sneaked up behind Honey and goosed her. Honey gave a yelp, and Trixie said, "So what’s top secret?"

Hallie looked at Trixie’s swollen lips and slightly rearranged clothing; she lifted a brow and said, "Not what you’ve been doing!"

Trixie tried to smooth her unruly curls and retorted, "Hey, one of us has to get a life! Though the National Enquirer certainly thinks you have one, Di."

"Sometimes I think that’s who Mart works for," muttered Di. "But I still want to know what’s going on between you and Mart, Honey." Di wasn’t exactly sure where Mart worked all the time. Sometimes what he told her he did didn’t jibe with where he said he was. She made a mental note to pick up some interrogation techniques and work them on the other BWGs to what they knew.

Trixie looked askance at Honey. Dang, she’s supposed to be with Brian, not Mart. What the heck’s going on here? I’ll have to interrogate her later. But remembering the lifeline Honey threw her at the lake yesterday, she said out loud, "Time for gossip later, girls, let’s go on out to Louis Road." Honey’s relief was palpable – the smack she gave Trixie on the arm said it all – "we’re even".

Honey had borrowed the dark blue Lincoln from Tom – really it was her parents’ car but the Delanoys used it since her family was rarely around. Hallie was in the front seat, and Honey could see Hal wringing her hands nervously. She reached over and patted Hallie’s arm. "It’ll be fine, Hallie, Bob-White promise." Hallie gave Honey sort of a grimace smile. Hallie still looked pretty pale to Honey, and like she’d lost some weight in the last few days. Hallie didn’t need to lose weight – at 5’9" she still only weighed about 150, mostly muscle. Her hair was still the silky black like Brian’s, Honey thought with a pang, though Hallie wore it shoulder length.

As they approached the turn for Louis, Honey said, "Okay Hal, tell us where to slow down."

Hallie looked out the window, and the car was just about to the end of the road before she said, "Here, I think."

Honey and Trixie got out of the car. They nosed around for a bit and finally Trixie went back to the passenger side and said "Did you pull all the way over?"

"Yes," said Hallie, "we had enough time to coast a bit before we had to stop, so Molinson steered it off road onto the shoulder."

Trixie and Honey checked out more of the shoulder – it was flat, and not too wide. A lot of times, shoulders had ditches, but in this case, there wasn’t much room between where the county mowed and the thick woods on either side of the road.

"Pretty much forces you to have the driver get out if you pull over, plus you’d stay on the ‘roadside’ of the car or be up to your knees in weeds," commented Trixie.

Neither Hallie nor Di had gotten out of the car, though Diana had her head leaning out the window to see what the two pros were doing and saying. "I’m going to pull the car up exactly," Honey stated.

"Right," Trixie replied. That was the great thing about having Honey as her partner – non-verbal communication. They both knew there weren’t any clues on the side of the road, so Trixie assumed Honey’s plan was to re-enact the crime. She was right.

Trixie remained outside the car, while Honey pulled forward. Trix directed her up, following Hallie’s directions. Hallie really didn’t want to get out of the car anyway, so this was perfect.

Trixie leaned into the car window again. "Okay, Hallie, the car has just conked out. Di, take Honey’s place and pretend you’re Molinson. Hallie, how long did you sit here arguing about what was wrong with the car before Molinson got out?"

Hallie closed her eyes and tried to think dispassionately about that night. Trixie pulled out her logbook to take notes, and noticed Honey’d done the same thing. Diana really wanted to ask about those cute little notebooks, but she decided to let Trixie be the director and she’d ask later.

Finally, Hallie said, "Well, I’m pretty sure I said ‘Damn it! I hate this car’ and the Chief said, ‘Just our luck, something would have to go wrong on Belden’s last night – it’s like a rule with your family.’ And I offered to go through the weeds to have a look but he said, ‘No, radio in our 10-20 and I’ll deal with the vehicle. Call for someone to tow us back in.’ So I leaned over to grab the radio, Molinson was outside the car making you know, those male car noises, and then suddenly, shots fired. So maybe four minutes? From the time we pulled over and the engine died before he got out."

Trixie digested this, while Honey said, "Okay, Di, get out of the car, and Hallie, you can stay in, but tell us what you think Molinson did." So Hallie directed Di out of the car; Di was an actress, by the second try, she had it down and Hallie was amazed, Di even copied Molinson’s swagger.

"Okay, so now point us to where you think the bullets came from," suggested Trixie. Hallie pointed up a little way and to the left across the road. Louis Road wasn’t really very wide at all, more like one and a half lanes, not even two full, so you could barely pass two cars going in the opposite directions. "Honey, let’s assume we know the type of gun that shot these bullets, and the range needed – unless it was a powerful rifle with a high-powered scope and the person had either excellent night vision or infrared goggles, he – or she – couldn’t’ve been too far away, right?"

Honey didn’t really answer – just a nod.

"Okay, Hal, Di, you stay with the car and I may give you the signal – if I do, then I want you to wait a minute like you’re coasting, then reenact the conversation, and then get out of the car – everything we’re sure Molinson did."

Hallie and Di agreed. God, this is serious, Di thought. Not that it wasn’t serious before, but this is real, this role I’m playing now could really help solve the murder of someone I actually knew and liked. The two made small talk while Honey and Trixie crossed the road.

"So, what’s going on with you and Dan, anyways, Hal? I could cut the tension with a knife."

Hallie was surprised that Di had noticed, but she guessed she shouldn’t be – actresses had to be good at reading people, she supposed. "Let’s just say that Dan and I have agreed to disagree on certain matters."

"Mummy told me she thought that you two were pretty serious for awhile when you moved to Sleepyside after graduating from the Police Academy. She said lots of people saw you two together all the time and then ‘poof’ it all sort of went away," Di added.

"Tell me about," said Hallie. "We were pretty serious – I mean, as serious as you can get when one person’s nearly 22 and the other’s 24. I guess it was the same old story – we were young and when you’re young it seems sometimes like your differences are insurmountable. Your disagreements turn into major life problems and you get so wrapped up in those little arguments, you forget even why you thought you lo…liked the other person in the first place."

Di nodded and said, "Been there, done that myself. You’re right, you wish you could go back and change things sometimes. But I guess that maybe we just have to learn to accept people for what they are, even when it’s a potential life partner. Sometimes the things you hate the most are why you actually love the person." Both Hallie and Di reflected silently on this for awhile. Hallie looked out the window, and wiped some more tears from her eyes.

Life can really suck sometimes, she thought. Dan and I could have been married by now, maybe even have some kids, but I just couldn’t get over his defense of Snipe Thompson on that rape charge, and he couldn’t get over me wanting to stay in Sleepyside full-time and not move into the City. We were too young, and then we both grew up in a hurry, but by then it was too late.

Trixie and Honey traipsed through the woods, trying to keep the car in sight, but not getting too far away. "Any idea what we’re looking for?" queried Honey.

"Not really. I guess I’m hoping the idiot would leave a big sign that says ‘I’m the killer, you can find me at Olyphant’s’ or something. I guess just tramped-down grass or shells or something. Maybe a spot….here, look!" Trixie exclaimed.

She and Honey had stumbled on to a sort of ragged path, branches broken, like someone had run through here recently. It seemed to be somewhat parallel to the road, but slightly diagonal. "Did Hallie say whether anyone even looked up here yet? I mean you’d think they had, but…" Honey knew that even the best of agents got flustered and upset when someone they knew was the victim. Maybe they’d overlooked this that night?

Trixie raised a brow, "Come on, it’s been almost a week. Friday night and now it’s Wednesday. Someone from the force should’ve been out here to have a look see. Let’s follow the path."

Trixie and Honey wound through the woods until it looked like a place where someone may have squatted for awhile. "Hey, a Wimpy’s cup," Trixie exclaimed. Knowing better than to touch it, she asked Honey for a tissue.

Honey was one better, producing a plastic bag. Trixie hardly ever carried a purse, let alone one filled with field gear. Honey smiled, "Sorry, you know, habit," and she handed Trixie the tissue and bag.

"Not a smoker, but here long enough to drink something from Wimpy’s? That’s weird."

"Possible it doesn’t belong to our guy, Trixie."

"True, but my instincts tell me it does. I mean, if our shooter was parked here, wouldn’t he have kicked it out of his way?"

"Maybe he didn’t notice it?" Honey offered. But she really was only playing Mart’s usual role of Doubting Thomas – she too felt that this was significant and had been overlooked. Most of the area back here away from the road was debris-free. "Okay, so maybe we should find out what the other end of this beaten up path is, assuming that our guy either started or finished here?"

"Doubt it was finished – we can barely see the car from here. If we know where the path ends, where our shooter was running to… oh!" Trixie smacked her forehead, "If it was a snake –"

"No snakes allowed here, Trixie!" Honey looked around, just to make sure one wasn’t in the clearing.

"No, no, duh, you CAN’T see the car here but you can see Louis Road pretty clearly and you could get a shot if the car didn’t coast too far. I mean you want it in the road and away from the intersection, but you wouldn’t predict that they could steer it so far, that is if we’re assuming that someone jerked with the car and knew that Molinson and Hal would be on Louis Road."

"Because that person called in a fake disturbance." Honey said. Trixie was right, as usual. Honey further postulated, "But the shooter had to run from the original spot, where the Wimpy’s cup was, to another spot, because of the unexpected extra coasting."

Trixie nodded in agreement, "And must’ve messed with the car, assuming that at the other end of this path, we could take a clear shot at Di as Molinson, and Molinson would actually have been twice the target that Diana presents," Trixie finished. "I think that you should go till the path ends and signal me, not the whistle though. Maybe I’ll be able to see you."

Honey gingerly made her way back down the broken path, passing where she and Trixie had started from until the trail abruptly ended. She turned, she could still see Trixie, though barely, because of the dense woods. She waved, Trixie waved back.

Trixie shouted, "Stay there Honey!" and then she gave the whistle and took off running. Hallie and Diana heard the whistle, and began timing their replay moves. Just as Diana was getting out of the car, Trixie reached Honey at the path’s end.

"Well," Trixie commented.

"I heartily concur, partner," replied Honey. "Although, one caveat, it’s gotta be someone in really good shape because you just made it as Di got out of the car."

"You’re right, so we’re getting a lot closer, aren’t we? Shall we run through it one more time? I wish we had one of the guys here – they’re not at peak physical condition, so it’d be interesting to compare one of them to Di’s movements."

Before Honey could say anything, they heard another car come down Louis Road, one with a bad muffler. Trixie pulled out her weapon (she had it tucked into the back of her shorts – which is why she kept her t-shirt untucked); Honey pulled hers out of her bag and they sprinted down to the car with Hallie and Di. The rusty junk pile pulled up right behind the Wheeler vehicle. Before the driver could emerge, Trixie and Honey had circled the car, guns blazing.

The windows were tinted. Trixie barked to the driver, "GET OUT SLOWLY, HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM." Honey, she noted, had backed her up by going to the passenger side. Trixie didn’t dare glance at the other car. Hallie will know enough to keep herself and Di out of sight.

 

Author’s note: Nearly there! Thanks, again, Cathys and especially Cathy B, my journalism instructor for taking a very rough ‘article’ and making it realistic! And Cathy P for giggling at all the right moments!

Chapter 12: Outta My Dreams and Into My Car

The rusty door opened slowly, groaning a protest as it swung outward. Slow is good, Trixie reassured herself. Out came a cheap loafer and khaki pant leg, frayed at the cuff, then the other leg and finally, the whole quivering body of Paul Trent, the Sleepyside Sun’s self-proclaimed star reporter. On Honey’s side, she had an equally unillustrious presence emerging – town hoodlum Bull Thompson.

"What are you two doing here, Trent? This is a crime scene," Trixie asked tersely. She thought he would have been run out of town years ago.

"I might ask you the same question, Agent Belden," Trent replied with a sneer. "I don’t believe your badge does you any good here. I think I should be asking you the questions. Why, I ought to file a citizen’s report, you pulling a weapon on me."

Bull Thompson smirked at Honey. She turned out good-lookin’ for a hoity-toity rich bitch, he thought. She’d probably have the time of her life with me. If I wanted to, I could have her – just cuz she was some fancy pants agent she probably thought she could take him, but nobody, nobody, gets the better of Bull.

Bull certainly hasn’t improved with age, thought Honey. She kept her service pistol trained right between his beady, close-set eyes. How disgusting, I can smell him from two feet away; his t-shirt is stained with dried-up food, and has a hole right near his protruding belly.

"Stick it, Trent. I have every right to pull my pistol on you. You come careening down the road, high rate of speed and screech to a stop behind a car carrying a police officer and you think you’ve got RIGHTS?"

Trent looked over, and for the first time noticed Hallie and Diana who had emerged from the car and stood near Trixie. "Well, hello Ms. Lynch," he said silkily. "Slumming with the Beldens?" That Diana Lynch was one hot babe – Trent figured she’d been dying to go out with him since high school. Diana merely lifted a brow, not deigning to answer.

"What are you doing here, Trent?" asked Hallie.

"Looking for clues as to ‘whodunnit’, Officer Belden. Or should I say ‘Detective’? Word on the street is that your last day as a uniform was Molinson’s last day alive. So tell me, how does that make you feel?" Trent needled.

But before Trixie or even Hallie could react, shy Diana Lynch aimed a well-placed hiking boot right below the belt. Trent howled and doubled over, clutching his injured area. "You’re an ass, Trent, and don’t forget it! You’re not fit to walk on the same sidewalk with the Beldens, or the Wheelers, and you should be banned from Sleepyside!" she added for good measure.

"Better drive him home and get him an ice pack, Bull," smirked Honey. "C’mon ladies, I think we can leave these two idiots here."

The girls got in the car, and Honey peeled out. Trent was now leaning against the front fender, hand still clutching himself, and moaning. Hallie turned to Di and said, "Well done, Di. If any of us had touched the weasel, he’d be yelling ‘police brutality.’"

"I don’t know," commented Trixie, "I doubt he wants anyone to know that a girl laid him low." With that, they erupted into rather unprofessional giggles.

"Gawd, I’ve always wanted to do that for real," said Di. "I mean, on TV, you just sort of pretend-aim there and you don’t actually connect, but wow! that felt so powerful, just to rear back and SMACK." The other three snickered – when trying to apprehend a male criminal, all three had done the same at least once. Evil, but true, Trixie thought, the easiest way to bring a man down, unless he was high.

"Well I doubt you need to imitate us for anything," Hallie drawled from the front seat.

"No, no! I have tons of questions, like do you always carry your rifles with you?" Di asked excitedly.

Honey winced, "Di, it’s a pistol – semi-automatic. Rifles are like hunting guns, with a long barrel?"

"Right, right, so do you always carry your PISTOL?" Di emphasized the last word and then Hallie joked, "Bet Trent’s wishing he didn’t have his right now." And the four women again howled with laughter.

"Hey, let’s stop at Lytell’s and grab some fixings for dinner tonight. Whaddyathink? BWG cookout at Crabapple Farm?" Trixie asked. Everyone was keen on the idea, so Trixie borrowed Honey’s cell phone and called home.

"Moms? It’s Trix," she started, "Would it be okay if I invited the whole crew over for dinner? We’re close to Lytell’s, so we’ll pick up the food and do all the work, and you and Dad are invited. Yeah, Bobby too. No, well, if you want to make blueberry pie," Trixie met Honey’s eyes in the rearview and Honey was shaking her head "yes" emphatically. "Okay, we’ll see you in a few. No, an early dinner, what time is Dad home these days? Okay. Call Bobby and ask him." Trixie hung up the phone and passed it back to the front seat.

"Here I am planning supper and it’s only one o’clock. Guess it’s because I’m starved." Trixie said with a laugh, as Honey pulled into Lytell’s. Old Mr. Lytell was still behind the counter, but to everyone’s surprise, including Diana’s, one of her twin sisters was working there.

"Jules?" asked Honey.

"Nope, it’s Kenny," said Diana.

Kendra Lynch smiled and said, "How can I help you guys?"

Trixie breathed in the air as she gathered up groceries – it was still the same! Hardwood floors, horizontal freezer cases that you had to lean into, and old light fixtures hanging down from the tin-pressed ceiling. Man, I actually miss this place, and didn’t even know it, she thought with amazement.

They piled all the groceries into the car, and Honey commented, "You know, all those times we just expected our parents or the cook to be able to feed the mob of us, with only a moment’s notice! We barely ever bought groceries, did we?"

The others nodded their heads. Hallie added, "Same with us in Idaho – we thought nothing of calling mom after we’d invited people over and expected not only that she had the food, and would cook it, but that we could afford it. Not that we were poor, but we fed the neighborhood once a week, I bet."

"Hey, if you don’t mind, drop me off at Maypenny’s since we’re right close. I’ll tell Dan he’s invited and then walk up to the Farm later," Hallie said.

After Hallie got out of the car, Trixie hopped into the front. "Wonder what that’s about," she said, turning sideways so she could look at both Honey and Diana.

Honey shrugged, but Diana explained about how serious Hallie and Dan apparently once were, and that she had urged Hallie to think about reconciliation, after all this time. "Wow," said Trixie, "that’d be great. They both deserve to be happy. Hey, don’t you remember the spark between them before Hans and Juliana’s wedding?"

Di asked to be let out at the Lynch driveway, promising to come to the Farm by three-ish to help with preparations. Honey and Trixie were alone again. "So, Trix, why don’t you spend the night at Manor House, it’ll be like old times and we can discuss the case."

Trixie blushed a fiery red. Tread lightly, here, Belden, she told herself. "Well I was planning on spending the night at Manor House, Honey. Um, actually, your brother asked me. I hope that’s okay with you? We can all discuss the case."

Honey thought about this for a second, and remembered that she wanted her brother and her best friend to be happy, so she shouldn’t be feeling any twinges of jealousy, But if I do, that’s probably normal, she told herself. Out loud, she replied, "Trixie, great, I’m sure we can discuss things and Jim may have some insight. What should we do about the Wimpy’s cup? I have some contacts in White Plains."

"I know some people in the city, Honey. Maybe we can run to town in the morning. I’ll have something else, too. We need to talk privately," she finished as Honey turned into the driveway. She was just about to confide in Honey about the letter, when something at the Farm caught her attention.

Jim was waiting for them in the Crabapple Farm driveway. Honey had called from Lytell’s to update him on plans. Jim was leaning his 6’4" frame against a very tiny, silvery-blue BMW convertible with its top down.

God he’s gorgeous, thought Trixie. His hair had retained its fiery, crisp redness, but any freckles had long since turned into an even tan. Wish my freckles would dissipate. Trixie couldn’t wait to get him alone.

The two women jumped out of the Lincoln, and Jim walked over. "Nice car, Frayne," commented Trixie.

"I heard you liked convertible sports cars, new ones," Jim said with a grin.

"True enough. But I don’t make enough money to afford that." Trixie decided to get closer for a better look. "Oh it is SO cool! It’s just like the James Bond BMW, isn’t it?"

Jim nodded. He was waiting for Trixie to put it all together, but she was busy leaning over the driver’s door trying to fiddle with knobs and buttons. "Why don’t you take it for a spin, Trixie," he asked.

Trixie’s eyes opened wide, and she shook her head no. "I couldn’t. I’d probably wreck it first thing and I would feel terrible. Besides, I need to get the groceries in."

Honey, picking up on what was so obviously going right over Trixie’s head, said, "Trixie, I’ll get someone inside to help me, just take it for a quick spin, ‘kay?" Honey was proud of her brother – this was certainly a good wooing tactic, if he played it right.

Trixie was very, very tempted. She rode in limos – or jogged alongside them – all the time, but really driving a sports car and one like this…Finally, with eyes shining, she said, "Okay, let’s go for a five-minute spin."

Jim dangled the keys and Trixie grabbed them and hopped in. Jim scrunched in the passenger side, and Trixie thought, How impractical – at least since I’m short I can drive this in comfort!

Jim smiled as Trixie zoomed around the Lincoln and back down the driveway. He wondered if she noticed the car’s color was the exact shade of blue as her eyes. Probably not, she’s not that kind of vain girl you’ve been used to these last years, Jim thought to himself.

"You like it?" he asked indulgently.

Trixie nodded yes and zipped up Glen Road, past the Lynch driveway. She drove all the way to the outskirts of Sleepyside and then reluctantly turned around. "You are so lucky, Jim. This is way, way cool of a car. It hardly even has any miles on it," she commented as she read the odometer.

"Yeah, you could help me out by driving it around. I know you don’t have wheels here and you should, since we’re working on a case. You can’t jog everywhere, you know."

"How much?" Trixie asked. This was an expensive car.

"How much what?" asked Jim back.

"How much to rent it from you while I’m here?"

Jim was stunned – he wanted to give the car to her outright. He’d known, of course, that Trixie would balk at such an expensive and showy gift, yet he’d still arranged for it early this morning, straight from the showroom, assuming he’d be able to convince her. He’d been ready to face her protests but he never thought she’d try to rent if from him! Luckily, he had a backup plan. "No, like I said, you’d be doing ME a favor, I don’t get to drive it enough in the city, and it’s the kind of car that should be driven. Just use it as much as you want while you’re here."

"I don’t know…" Trixie hedged. She really, really would love to drive this car around for a few days, but something didn’t exactly ring true. She couldn’t even imagine Jim owning such a flashy car, but you don’t know, he’s changed, the voice inside said. Not that much, she countered the voice, he’s still the same hard working, honest, sexy guy he always was, only better.

Jim gave her the puppy dog eyes, and Trixie finally said, "If you’re sure?" Jim nodded his head again, and Trixie pulled back into the Belden driveway.

Mrs. Belden and the little boys were no where in sight. Honey moved as quickly as possible, putting groceries away, and then grabbed Mart by the arm and marched him out to the orchard. "What the hell happened to YOU?" she asked.

Somehow, between this morning’s BWG meeting and now, Mart had acquired a very bruised eye, which was practically swollen shut, and some suspicious red marks on his throat. His t-shirt neck looked a little stretched out, too.

Mart sighed, "Well my orbital socket was smacked, as you can obviously see."

"By whom, Mart? I mean, I don’t think your nephews could do that to you and you also have red marks on your throat, like someone was choking you."

Mart self-consciously touched that area. Yeah, still sore. What should I admit to? Probably the whole truth, she’ll find out anyways. "Um, my elder sibling and I seem to have had a slight misunderstanding over some things, like, whether or not someone else could see you, socially, and why he was so dog-in-the-mangerish about your life and preferences for which Belden men."

"That’s clear as mud, Mart," Honey replied. "What exactly did Brian think he had the right to comment on?"

"Er, well, I may have let it slip that you and I had seen each other in Lincoln and that we spent quite a significant of, uh, nocturnal hours together. That seemed to bother him," Mart confessed.

"And?" probed Honey. "You told him it was totally platonic?"

"Uh, no, actually, I let him smack me around a bit, which was not easy for me. I got in a punch or two, though, and then Moms came out and really freaked – she blistered both our ears. Neither of us wanted to tell her what we were ‘discussing’ and she told us both to go to our rooms. Luckily, since Bobby’s gone, we don’t have to share a room. I think Brian finally snuck out and went up to the Manor House, probably looking for you."

Honey figured if anyone could order two grown men to go to their rooms, it was "Moms" Belden. Maybe she could pay back Brian for his unforgivable offense all those years ago. She wasn’t vengeful by nature, but behavior can be learned! "So you didn’t tell him that there was nothing between us?"

"Are you kidding, Honey? I figured that if this could shock him into some kind of normal, human reaction, that it was a good thing. I mean, even from a distance, I could tell his marriage wasn’t all he pretended it was and he’s been reserved and quiet since getting home. I feel like these are questions he should be asking you, not me. And after all, I did sleep in your room," Mart added slyly, "so it’s not like I can’t say that we’ve never slept together…"

"Mart! You’re terrible, but I do appreciate you giving me the choice of what Brian knows. And I’m sorry he tried to beat you up. Next time I see him, he’ll get a real piece of my mind!" Honey exclaimed.

Mart could hear Trixie calling Honey’s name from the vicinity of the back porch, so they turned and walked back toward the house. "None of this to Trixie, now, okay?" he said.

Honey looked at him, and raised an eyebrow. He must forget what his sister is – she won’t be fooled for a second, she said to herself.

As Mart and Honey approached, Jim stood on the back steps with his arm around Trixie, and they looked like such an established couple that Mart’s own heart had a little twinge of jealousy. If only things could work out for me, he thought, but Di and I have been over this time and again.

"Mart, what happened?" gasped Trixie.

"Nothing, nothing," he tried to brush off her concern. This was Honey’s business.

Trixie and Jim looked at Honey, who shrugged her shoulders as if to say "I can’t explain."

They went into the kitchen where Mart said, "I need a beer. Anyone else?" Mart passed around the bottles and sat down at the table. Trixie figured she really needed to talk with Jim and Honey about the weird letter she’d received. Just then, the front door opened.

Brian strode into the kitchen, and took one look at the assembled cast around the table and turned to walk up the stairs with nary a nod. Trixie had time to note that Brian also had a black eye, as well as a very swollen lip. She assumed that Brian and Mart had gotten into it, since Brian didn’t even say "hello," but ignored Mart and by association, Trixie, Jim, and Honey.

Honey was ticked at his childish behavior. She jumped up from the table, "I’ve had it with Brian Belden," she said angrily and turned to follow him up the stairs.

Trixie knew she couldn’t miss this, so as soon as Honey made it to the top, Trixie crept up the stairs and sat at the second step from the top as Honey pounded on Brian’s bedroom door. When Trixie looked over her shoulder, it was to discover that Jim and Mart had followed.

"We don’t want to miss anything, either," Jim whispered and gave Trixie a wink.

"Open this door Brian, or I’ll just pick the lock," Honey shouted as she pounded on it. There was no reply from within. "I mean it! Better yet, I’ll just kick the damn thing in if you don’t grow up and let me in. We need to talk. I want an explanation for your cruddy behavior now and six years ago."

Jim, Trixie, and Mart sat quietly, clutching their beer bottles. There was no need to strain, Honey was shouting for all she was worth.

"NOW Belden and I mean it!"

After a pause, the door opened, and they could hear Brian saying, "Look, Honey, you can sleep with whomever you want. I don’t give a damn, just don’t bring that kind of behavior around my sons."

Trixie drew in a breath – the nerve of her brother, she had half a mind to –

CRACK! Honey walloped Brian across the face. "How DARE you preach to me, Brian Belden? You are the two-timingest low-down skunk I have ever had the misfortune to date. At least your younger brother manages to treat me with respect. And talk about two-timing? What about you? Whose wife walked in on us six years ago, screaming at me, calling me a slut? You never even told me you’d gotten married," Honey yelled.

"I can explain all that Honey, but you wouldn’t listen, you wouldn’t even take my calls after that," Brian tried to interject.

But Honey was on a roll, with six years of pent-up anger boiling over. "She was pregnant, Brian! You had a pregnant wife and you slept with me, never even telling me or giving me a choice as to whether I wanted to be your, your mistress! You took what was supposed to be a beautiful experience for me and turned it into something cheap. To find out I waited all through college for you, and you couldn’t even tell me you found someone else? What was I? A challenge? Easy?" Honey was so mad at this point, she could barely choke the words out.

On the stairs, Mart and Trixie each had a hold of one of Jim’s arms, silently urging him to stay seated, though every brotherly instinct in him was screaming to give Brian another black eye, and a broken bone or two. But Mart and Trixie both knew this had been coming for years, and Honey deserved to have her say.

Trixie was frankly aghast. She knew part of the story, that six years ago, Honey had gone out to Dallas, where Brian was finishing med school, to surprise him. But she’d come back early and said things were over. Shortly afterwards, Brian announced to the family that he had eloped way back in early April with a woman named Charity, and that she was pregnant with Marty. She knew that was part of the reason Honey had been so upset, but she’d never pried for details, so this was a bit more stunning than she expected. Trixie had only met Charity once, while passing through Dallas on assignment. After his marriage, Brian moved to St. Paul to work on his pediatric specialty, and they never came to Sleepyside. None of this sounds quite right, she thought to herself. Trixie had never really liked what she knew of Charity, and Moms and Dad never said anything, but it seemed that phone messages never got passed on to Brian, or he just never wanted to talk.

As Honey ended her tirade, Brian sat on the side of his old twin bed, with the weight of the past few years on his shoulders. He covered his eyes, rubbing them with his hands and then hung his head resignedly. "I don’t expect you to understand the inexcusable, Honey. It was the worst time of my life. I was stressed out, I mean, finishing school and you came out to surprise me and you were the best thing in my life, my hope for the future. But I had screwed it up so badly, I couldn’t tell you, then when we made love, it was like everything was right just for that moment. Suddenly, Charity came in, and I never got to explain, to tell you." Brian whispered.

"Brian, I was supposed to be your best friend – your girlfriend, even if we hadn’t seen each other in person in years! I sacrificed my social life for you, and this is how you repaid me?" Honey asked, in a much calmer voice. Something had gone wrong, and it had made her wary of forming relationships with men. She knew she needed to get past this so she could find someone else to love. Those should have been her children, not Charity’s.

"How did you meet her, Brian?" Honey asked softly, sitting beside Brian on the bed. Yelling wouldn’t make her feel that much better, and she really needed answers.

Trixie, Jim, and Mart couldn’t hear any more, since the conversation had lowered to quiet tones and both participants were inside the room. Trixie shrugged resignedly and said, "Let’s go downstairs and start fixing some potato salad so Moms won’t think she has to do everything. Where is she, anyways?"

Back in the room, Brian was thinking over Honey’s question, and decided to just tell her the whole sordid story. "I met her at a law school/med school Halloween party in October," he began. "I don’t know what she was doing there, but my friends had convinced me I needed to loosen up a bit. I got pretty drunk, and the next thing I knew, we, you know, and were back at my apartment. Pretty soon, she started showing up after classes, bringing me dinner, tidying up for me, that sort of thing. And, we were still having sex. I didn’t know how to get out of it, Honey. I had become this different person – I didn’t really respect myself or my choices, but staying in the relationship was the easy way out."

Brian stole his first glance at Honey since she’d come to sit beside him, and he gained the courage to continue. "Okay, I admit, I thought I was getting a good deal – I looked at it as sort of an exchange. I mean, she wanted to, you know, and in exchange she kind of tidied the place up and made my life easier. And I was lonely," he said. "I know that is a stupid reason to have sex with someone, but you and I, our letters were getting more infrequent and the phone calls almost non-existent, I just assumed you didn’t care any more."

"Don’t try to blame me, Brian! I was trying to get through college, too! Studying and classes for my double major wasn’t easy. And when I called, you were always busy or studying – you never had time for me, either, but I didn’t turn to someone else. I thought this was just the sacrifice we were making so that we could be together later. How was I to know you weren’t thinking that?" Honey asked in a hurt tone.

"It’s all my fault," Brian admitted miserably. "It was my first sexual relationship. I know, in retrospect, she was using me. She was always talking about how great a doctor’s life would be, how much money doctors made, how they had all the connections, but to be honest, I really didn’t pay attention to her, either. She was just an extended fling for me, with no meaning. And then, one day I woke up and knew that I could break up with her, but she clung. It was really hard. Finally, in March she announced to me that she was pregnant. I was floored. She told me she was on birth control."

Honey snorted, "And you believed her? You weren’t using anything? Brian, that’s dangerous to your health and you of all people should know that!"

"I have no excuses, just stupidity and hormones. She insisted that we get married, and lucky for her, her dad’s a Justice of the Peace," he said sarcastically.

"He married us, but I was too embarrassed to tell my family for months. I’m the oldest, the responsible one, supposed to set an example, and I failed. And pretty soon, Charity realized that marriage to a med student isn’t the same as having a prominent surgeon, like her mother, for your parent. I still had a residency to get through and wasn’t making much money. But she spent every penny and more. When you came out to surprise me after your graduation in May, I actually forgot I was married. I know that’s hard to believe, but when I opened the door and you were standing there, it was like the whole Charity thing was a bad dream."

Brian grabbed Honey’s hands with his own. "I am so sorry about everything and I know that there is no way you’ll ever forgive me. It was stupid and wrong, so wrong to do what I did. I didn’t know how to handle it. And when we, well it was nothing like with Charity, which made me realize that what I could’ve had with you was a hundred, a thousand times better than a relationship started on lust and sustained on mistrust and guilt." Brian’s voice choked. For years he had wanted so badly to tell Honey how much she meant to him, and now that he had, it was like this.

There couldn’t be a sorrier excuse for a man, Brian thought.

Honey didn’t know what to think, but maybe Brian had just said he loved her. She knew Brian was telling the truth, but she wasn’t sure she could ever accept and forget what had been a devastating event for her. "So how come you didn’t divorce her?"

"At the time, I thought that wouldn’t be a good idea, that I could stick it out. Be the first Belden to divorce? And there was Marty to consider. When I mentioned it the first time, she said she’d end up with custody, that I was an adulterer and that you’d be named as ‘the other woman.’ I couldn’t do that to you or my family, or have there be a chance that she’d get custody."

"After we moved up to St. Paul, she started flirting with all my co-workers. Pretty soon, the rumors were flying and she was sleeping with my supervisor! What could I do about that? And taking Marty along with her for her sordid liaisons, or leaving him with a neighbor for hours. I had no proof of her relationship, but little things started to add up. When she told me she was pregnant the second time, I knew that it wasn’t mine. We hadn’t slept together in over a year. By then, I was ready to file for a divorce, and told her so. She pleaded with me to not do it, that she would stop the affair, but I knew it wasn’t true. The neighbor woman was more of a mother to Marty than she ever was. And Charity was a high-risk pregnancy, so I caved in and let her stay. But I filed for divorce and made her sign custody of Marty to me. I wanted her to leave at once, after the baby was born, but she was like a parasitic disease - a clinger. She had no where to live and no respectable job skills."

Brian sighed. "Before I knew it, Benji was almost 18 months. I had almost forgotten that he wasn’t my son. It seemed easier in some ways to keep Charity around since I could monitor her parenting. Then one day she was grocery shopping. I don’t even know if she left the boys in the car, or had just put them in their seats, but as she was putting the groceries in the trunk, someone backed into her. She was pinned between the trunk and the back end of an Explorer. It almost seemed deliberate – witnesses said the driver backed up and rammed her twice. Probably a drunk driver. She was crushed, killed."

Honey sat quietly while Brian finished his story. "Does anyone else know all this? Or about Benji?"

Brian shook his head no. "No, my name is on the birth certificate. No one will ever know, as far as I’m concerned. I don’t really mention her name to the boys and they don’t seem to miss her. They’ve both been far too quiet since the accident, though. I was hoping a change of scenery, time here in Sleepyside will help them."

Honey digested all this information. Brian asked, "If you ever feel like you can forgive me, I’d like to start over with us, a chance to be friends, at least? For our sake and everyone else’s. I’ve caused everyone way too much pain."

"Honestly, I feel badly for you, Brian, but also for me. I had such hopes and plans and to find out that I’d just made love to someone else’s husband while I was still in bed with him! That kind of trauma is not easily forgotten. It changed the course of my life. I was no longer content to be a small town shamus, I felt like I’d been sheltered for far too long. I took chances, wanted to get out. It’s why I joined the ATF, in a way, to break away from the "Honey Wheeler" everyone expected," Honey confessed.

Inwardly, Brian sighed. It’s worse than I hoped for, but no less than I deserve. At least she didn’t pull out her gun and shoot me, he thought humorlessly.

"I would like to try to be friends again, Brian. But it will take a bit of time. And I think holding all this inside can’t be good for you. You may be surprised at the understanding you get from your friends and siblings. And just so you know, Mart and I are only friends. Shake?"

Instead of taking the hand Honey stuck out, Brian grabbed her for a hug, holding tight. Finally, Honey put her arms around him, too and they sat wordlessly for a few moments. Brian cleared his throat, and then said, "I guess I owe some apologies, huh?"

Honey nodded and they went down the stairs, both happy with the tentative step toward friendship.

Mart was nursing his black eye, holding an ice pack to it. When Brian came downstairs, Honey shrugged at Trixie behind him. Without saying anything, Trixie grabbed another ice pack out of the freezer and handed to Brian, pointing at a chair. Brian and Mart quietly made their peace with each other, and Honey walked over to the counter where Trixie was chopping chives and Jim was peeling potatoes.

Trixie couldn’t stand the suspense. She supposed it was rude, but since both she and Honey spoke German, she asked in the foreign tongue, "Everything okay between you and my oldest brother?"

Honey replied in German, "I think so. He explained some things but I know it will take me some time. I’d like to say I can forgive and forget instantly, but in reality it’s not going to happen overnight."

Jim had looked at them curiously, but since he didn’t speak German, he went back to the potatoes. He knew he’d get it out of one of them later. Brian was just holding the ice to his eye, which still throbbed after several hours. Mart, though, had angled his head when he heard the girls start talking. It’s almost like he knows what we’re saying, thought Trixie.

Out loud, in German she said to Honey, "My twin is a monkey butt," trying to gauge his reaction, but if he understood, he was good. I must be imagining it, she thought, he’d never let that pass.

"Honey, I really have something to tell you about, don’t let me get distracted later," Trixie continued in German. She really needed to brainstorm with her about this weird letter. Mentally, she was calling the author a ‘Mad Lurker’ because it was so strange, like this person had no idea what was really going on but was lurking around the fringes of the BWGs, trying to make trouble.

"About the case?" Honey asked.

Trixie shook her head, "I don’t think so, it’s a weird letter I got. Don’t want to tell the others just yet. We have enough on our plate."

Mart finally commented, "It’s rude to talk in a foreign language in front of people."

"Maybe we didn’t want you to know – girl talk," said Trixie. Mart raised an eyebrow, and again Trixie was suspicious as to whether Mart spoke German. But why would he need it? Trixie learned it because she often dealt in counterfeiting cases in tandem with German authorities. It was like a second language to her; actually, she had quite a few ‘second’ languages including Dutch, French, Spanish and Portuguese. And one of Honey’s majors was languages, so she had German, Russian, Italian, French, and several Middle Eastern dialects.

The Belden parents arrived home, with their two grandsons in tow, and the BWGs took turns entertaining the boys and making dinner preparations. Di arrived at 3 and said she needed to go into the City the next day because they needed her for one last time on the set of her soap. Honey and Trixie said they were going to the City, too, so Jim arranged for a Wheeler International limo to come out the next day so they could all ride in together. He wanted to do some business at the office. While they discussed the plans, Mart bummed a ride, too, saying he wanted to visit his office as well.

Hallie and Dan had walked up, holding hands, to everyone’s delight. No one teased them like they had Trixie and Jim. Hallie and Dan were informed of the next day’s trip into the City, but Dan had a court case in White Plains the next day and Hallie didn’t feel up to traipsing through the City. She offered to baby-sit Marty and Benji, since Brian would be working his first day as Dr. Ferris’ partner.

Dinner was a raucous affair. Bobby had arrived shortly after his father. There was a lot of shouting, passing food around, and general good humor. Everyone seems a lot happier, now that they’re all together again, thought Helen. I want them to stay this way.

After dessert, Trixie casually told Moms that she was spending the night at Manor House. Her mother accompanied her upstairs where she was putting together an overnight bag. Helen couldn’t stand it any longer and said, "Trixie, dear, I know you’re an adult, but do you think you should be spending the night up there?"

Trixie looked at her mother. "Moms, I used to spend the night there as much as here."

"But that was with Honey," said her mother, "and don’t try to convince me that you’ve been staying in her room the last two nights."

Trixie blushed. How embarrassing! "Moms, I’m 28, it’s a little past time for this kind of conversation. Don’t worry about me."

Helen sighed. I at least had to say something, or my principles would suffer. "I know you’re an adult and I shouldn’t pry into your personal life, you know I just worry about you. I don’t want your heart to get broken."

Meanwhile, Peter had asked Jim to show him the new BMW. "Did you buy this for Trixie?" Peter queried outright.

"Yes," Jim admitted, "but she thinks I’m just loaning it to her."

"You know my little girl’s not one to be swayed by showy gifts or impressed by wealth."

"Yes sir," Jim said sheepishly. "Sir, maybe I should tell you, I love your daughter and want her to be happy. I hope she’ll be happy with me, as my wife someday. I can’t help but give her things, expensive things. I know how she was raised, frugally, and I appreciate that about her. My own parents raised me that way, too."

Peter laughed, "Frugally is right! With four children, you can’t be extravagant even if you do have money. I always preached to invest your money wisely. I just don’t want to see her hurt, and you could hurt her badly. If you do, I won’t be happy, Jim."

"I know that sir. I can’t promise to never hurt her or make her mad, but, I do love her," Jim said.

Peter offered his hand, and they shook. "Trixie doesn’t need to know about this conversation, Jim. It would just make her mad, seeing as she thinks she can take care of herself."

"I hate to contradict you, but I think she can take care of herself, with one hand tied behind her back. But I know what you mean, you want to look out for her. I feel the same way, and I know I’ll never be as strong as you – I’m sure I’ll spoil her hopelessly if given the chance." Jim concluded.

Later that evening, at Manor House, Trixie, Jim and Honey lounged around sipping beers and discussing the Mad Lurker’s somewhat threatening note. "As a Secret Service Agent, I’ve learned to take even the looniest threats seriously. Thing is, I can’t figure out what his threat is." Trixie confided.

Honey and Jim were equally perplexed. "Well, I mean, I think we can say for certain that when this letter was sent, you didn’t have a lover," Jim stated. "But this "first your brother" part confuses me. Which brother? And what was first?"

"No clue," admitted Trixie. "I guess I just wanted you to be aware, and we’ll take it into the lab at the feebies tomorrow in the City. I know a guy there who’ll do some work, no questions asked, or at least not too many."

"I feel like Di," sighed Jim. "What’s a ‘feebie’?"

Honey giggled, "Jim, you’ll have to catch up. Feebies are what we call FBI agents."

*     *     *

In the morning, Trixie went out for her normal jog into Sleepyside. She didn’t see anyone she knew in town, and when she got back to Manor House, Honey and Jim were eating breakfast in the kitchen. "Hey," she called. "Jim, we need to grab a USA Today, today. It’s Thursday and I want to see where that Junk Food guy’s been lately."

Finally, Trixie noted that both Honey and Jim were stony-faced. "What did I say?" she asked.

"Oh Trix, I wish we’d never met up with Paul Trent yesterday," Honey groaned.

A cold shiver went up Trixie’s back. "Let me see it," she said tersely. Jim silently handed Trixie the Sleepyside Sun. "Well, he got front page above the fold. Good for him." She began to read the article on the right column.

 

Former Lover Could Be Suspect In Police Chief’s Death

As Federal Agents Use Vigilante Tactics, PD Quiet On Investigation

By Paul Trent, reporter

SLEEPYSIDE (SSun) – Although the Sleepyside Police Department remains quiet on its investigation into the July 28 death of Police Chief Wendell Molinson, insiders say they are looking at the incident as the result of a lover’s quarrel.

Demanding anonymity, a source inside the police department said recent tactics displayed by former-residents-turned-federal-agents point the finger of suspicion at a clear target. The source indicated one such federal agent, whom he called Sleepyside’s "own former junior detective." According to the source, the female agent was Molinson’s lover.

"Oh, they were an item for years," the source said. "Even his wife knew about them. I never understood what Molinson saw in a freckle-faced teenage brat, but other than that, he was a great guy."

"Their relationship was stormy," he continued. "So when Molinson is murdered with cop-killer bullets, unheard of in our innocent little town, by the way, you start thinking who had motive to go after him and who can get their hands on those bullets? I’ll tell you who – the big-timers."

Longtime Sleepyside resident Eugene "Bull" Thompson recently experienced "big-time" tactics when held at gunpoint by the federal agent in question, as well as another former resident-turned-agent. The two were accompanied by a famous actress Thompson would not name.

"She tried to kill me when I suggested that the Police Department could handle its own investigations," Thompson said.

"Something should be done about these women. I don’t want to mention any names, but everyone is probably familiar with their alleged crime-solving group. I think one of them may have done it, but like always, they’ll scrape up evidence to pin it on somebody innocent. They did that to me once."

Police Chief Timothy "Spider" Webster would offer no comment for this story, other than "We’re still investigating the Molinson death as a homicide."

The general opinion around town, though, is that this whole shooting might be the result of a lover’s quarrel. How else and who else in this innocent little town would have access to the cop-killer bullets which were used to down a beloved officer?

 

"That jackass!" exclaimed Trixie. "At least he’s learned a MINUTE thing or two about journalism – enough to cover his butt! Please, ‘general feeling’ ‘anonymous insiders’ and Bull Thompson? Come ON! I have half a mind to let Di shoot off his wiener next time."

"Trixie, have you thought about the ramifications?" asked Jim quietly.

"Oh, god, Jeannie…she doesn’t really believe this, do you think?"

"You should call her or go see her, Trixie," advised Honey. "But I think you two are missing the bigger picture. It’s Molinson, don’t you get it?"

Realization dawned on Trixie, "OHMIGOD. Someone thinks that the Captain and I had an affair. The ‘Mad Lurker’ seems to think I had a lover, and that it was Molinson?"

"Is the Mad Lurker Paul Trent?" Jim asked.

"Could be, but that just doesn’t add up. It could be Bull Thompson, still angry after us putting him away any number of times." Honey mused. "But the part about your brother…"

"Holy Cow!" Jim exclaimed. "Trixie, if I didn’t know Brian’s wife died in a hit-and-run accident…"

"But she did," Trixie said.

"Um, not really," Honey interjected. Both Trixie and Jim turned to look at her, amazed. "Brian told me that she was actually crushed by another car in a parking lot. But it was sort of hit-and- run, they never caught the other driver, he peeled away."

Trixie had never heard this, but she never really asked. Guess she didn’t know all of her brothers’ secrets. "So it could be possible that this Lurker killed my sister-in-law?"

Honey nodded. "It seems like it."

"So someone’s after Beldens, or people who associate with Beldens."

"Maybe it’s someone after BWGs," Jim theorized. "Do you suppose anyone else has gotten a letter like this? I’ll need to check with my secretary. She handles all my correspondence. Guess that moves us to the next step."

Jim looked at his watch and stood up. "Let’s get ready, the car will be here shortly to take us to the City."

*     *     *

At the Lynch estate, Diana was eating breakfast with her father. She was the only one who ever got up that early, used to it from her early calls on the soap opera set. Harrison came in with a silver tray.

"This came for you this morning, Miss Diana. I found it when I went out to get the paper."

Diana looked at the envelope. Nothing but "Miss Diana Lynch" typed on a white envelope. She shrugged. Fans had tracked her down in grocery stores and on vacations, but never here in Sleepyside. She opened the envelope and gasped.

"What is it, Diana?" asked her father.

"Nothing, Daddy. I thought I saw a bug on my plate," she said with a fake smile. Inside was an article cut from the Sleepyside Sun, glued onto a sheet of notebook paper. "I think I need to call my agent before Jim’s car picks me up." Diana hurried to her bedroom.

She punched in the number to her publicist’s office. "Kelley? It’s Diana Lynch. Listen, we may have a bit of a damage control situation," she began, and read Trent’s article out loud.

Kelley was ecstatic. "Diana! Really, this will be GREAT publicity for your upcoming series. Too bad he didn’t use your name. I didn’t know that you were involved with a group of real federal agents. This is perfect."

"Kelley, you don’t understand. He’s making unsupported allegations about my friends. Do something about it. I want a press release issued and I want someone to start digging up some dirt on Paul Trent," Diana directed.

"But Diana," wheedled Kelley, "this will be so good for your career. And I want to get you set up with George Clooney. He needs a date to the MTV Movie awards," she added.

"No! I can get my own dates from now on, Kelley. Make this happen with the press release, today!"

"Okay, okay," Kelley acquiesced.

*     *     *

It was a quiet group in the Wheeler limo on the way to the city. Finally, Jim said, "Trixie, here’s that junk food guy’s article you wanted to read."

"Thanks, sweetie," Trixie smiled and began to read aloud. "Valentino’s Steals Your Heart by the Junk Food Junkie. I made an unscheduled stop in Lincoln, Nebraska. I’d been hearing about this great pizza place for years. Pizza is one of my favorite foods, after burgers, fries and shakes, hey, he should come to Wimpy’s for those," Trixie ad-libbed. "so I thought I’d stop in for a slice. This was a slice - a whole pie, in fact, of heaven. I tried the buffet one night, eating until I almost burst. The pizza’s trademark secret is apparently beer in the mix. I tried to get my waitress to reveal all, but her lips were sealed…" Trixie trailed off and looked around the limo.

Jim was politely interested, Honey was staring out the window, chewing her lip. Diana was staring at Mart, and Mart was pretending to be asleep. The light bulb clicked on. "Honey, weren’t you in Lincoln, Nebraska a few weeks ago? Something about an arms shipment through the PO?" asked Trixie.

"Yeah, actually, I ate at Val’s – it’s a rule the city imposes or something. It was pretty darn good, too. So if you ever get to Nebraska," Honey started, trying to distract Trixie.

But Trixie wasn’t stupid about putting together such obvious clues. "My own brother? Mart Belden? I mean, I knew you loved food, Martin. And I know that you love big words, and that you majored in journalism, but you said you were editing at the paper, not writing!"

Mart was still cowardly hiding behind fake sleep. Trixie leaned over and pinched the inside of his thigh. "Ouch!" he yelped.

"You weren’t sleeping, twin, so quit evading."

He glowered. He still hated to be called her twin.

"Hey, there’s even a precedent, isn’t there, Miss Lonelyheart?" teased Jim.

"Come on you guys, I’m supposed to be anonymous. Can’t you leave me alone? It’s no big deal," Mart pleaded.

But Trixie’s bloodhound instinct was on. "Honey figured it out when she saw you in Lincoln, right?" Honey nodded yes. "But Diana, how come you’re not surprised?"

Diana looked at Mart straight in the eye. "Because it’s part of Mart’s and my on-going disagreement and why even though we’ve gone ‘round and ‘round about marriage, it will never work until he gives up his world-wide gallivanting to EAT!" Diana didn’t want to talk about the other things, the other reasons they weren’t together when by law and nature, they should be.

Jim was sitting across from Trixie, facing her, and saw her jaw drop. He gave her ankle a little kick. She took the hint and let the subject go. In a few minutes, they were already in front of the Wheeler Building, where Jim was getting out. "Let’s meet for lunch at Tavern on the Green?" he asked as he leaned back into the open car door and gave Trixie a peck on the cheek.

"Um, how about Hard Rock Café?" countered Mart. "I could do with some research food," he admitted. "I’ve been slacking all week."

"Hard Rock it is then. One o’clock?" Jim shut the car door and made his way into his building.

"I can’t, I need to be on the set all day," said Diana mournfully. She was next – the driver dropped her off in front of the studio doors. "I’ll just take the train back."

"Diana, I’ll come wait and take the train back with you," Mart said.

Diana gave him a smile and said, "Okay, I’ll tell the guard to let you through, thanks."

The last stop was the Federal Building, where there was an FBI office and lab. "Mr. Frayne told me to wait for you, so I’ll just look for a spot," said the driver.

Kind-hearted Honey told him, "We’ll be at least an hour. Why don’t you grab a coffee somewhere and if we get done early, we’ll walk around a bit."

Trixie and Honey checked their weapons with the security officer at the door. "We’ll get these back, right?" joked Trixie. The officer smiled and said, "Maybe I’ll trade it for a lunch date?"

"Sorry, she’s taken," interjected Honey. The officer’s smile fell, but he waved them through. The security man had taken their names and cleared them through to the third floor of the building.

The trio waited at the receptionist’s desk out front, making casual conversation. From behind them, they heard, "Agent Belden! Welcome back!"

Trixie turned with a bemused smile on her face. She never forgot people, but she knew she’d never met this man before. He was tall, and had straight dark brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. She stepped forward and stuck out her hand, "Hello. Actually, I’m sorry, I didn’t know we’ve met? I know Fitz Murphy, though."

"Right, right," the agent said. He’d miscalculated, a costly mistake in his line of work. "You’re right, we haven’t met, I’ve just heard about you. I’m Tony Welte."

Trixie took charge, "I’m Trixie Belden, Secret Service, this is my brother Mart Belden, he’s along for the ride, and this is Maddy Wheeler, ATF."

"Maddy Wheeler? The Mad-Dog Wheeler?" asked Welte excitedly.

"Uh, yes," Honey replied.

Welte pumped her hand enthusiastically, "What an honor to meet you in person. The guys will never believe it. You’ll have to meet some of them. Let’s go back to my office to talk privately. Mad-Dog Wheeler, here. Wow."

Welte kept hold of Honey’s arm, escorting her to his office area in the back, while Trixie and Mart followed. Murphy was supposed to arrange for them to borrow some lab personnel for a bit, so this must be him.

Welte seated Honey in the guest chair, and himself behind the desk, leaving Trixie and Mart standing. Seeing as Honey had all his attention, Trixie nudged her, and Honey began telling the story.

Finally she concluded by pulling out the Wimpy’s cup and Trixie’s Mad Lurker letter.

Welte made some clucking noises as he looked at the two pieces of evidence. "Yeah, our lab boys can take a look-see at these. I’d be willing to bet that there’s no prints on the cup. But we can probably separate the newsprint from the notebook paper, and try to analyze the fibers, see what we can find out. Can you give me an hour or so?" he asked.

Honey nodded yes. "We’ll walk around a bit. We haven’t been in New York together for awhile." Honey gave Welte her pager number, and then she, Mart, and Trixie left the building. They stopped and retrieved their weapons from the security officer at the front.

As they walked around outside, they discussed the case. "I’m inclined to agree with Welte, that there won’t be prints on the Wimpy’s cup. What we need to find out from Hallie is, was anyone she knew at Wimpy’s that night during the time they were there. Someone was there watching them," theorized Mart, "and maybe disabled the car."

Trixie was amazed at Mart’s grasp, although he always was a big help in the past, he seemed to have developed more ‘mystery’ instincts. But she had to point out the flaw in his thinking, "Mart, Hallie probably knew most everyone in Wimpy’s! Remember, we’re from a small town, so between her and the Captain, they could name everyone in there. Or if Mike was in that night."

Trixie knew that Mike, the long-time Wimpy’s owner and counterman, had officially retired, but he could still usually be found holding down a booth and giving his son Mikey a hard time or a hand, depending on business.

"But you are right, Mart," Honey added hastily, "it may be important to find out just who was there that evening, and who might have a grudge against either your family or the BWGs."

Mart had been surprised when Honey pulled out the "Mad Lurker" letter for Welte. Previously, Trixie had explained to the male BWGs how the women had re-enacted Molinson’s final moments, and her theory that the shooter had to change position to get a clear shot. Mart had done a little reconnaissance on his own, after the women, and had to say they’d done a thorough job. The cup was the only thing left behind at the scene.

"Thing is, someone has to have access to those armor-piercing bullets. I wonder what Dan’s finding out about our leading citizens of Sleepyside," commented Trixie. "I thought that the average person wouldn’t be able to get their hands on that ammo."

"It is illegal," agreed Honey. "But so is shooting a cop. I guess that probably anyone could have gotten the bullets, realistically. I still don’t get the part about your brother, though. We should get a copy of Charity’s autopsy or the Police report. Mart, anything we should know about you?"

Mart flushed a bit guiltily, and said, "No. You found out my big secret – I’m the anonymous Junk Food Junkie. Moms and Dad don’t even know. Just you guys, Jim, and Diana."

Mart expounded on his work for a little while, until Trixie said, "Ugh, Mart, you’re making me hungry. It’s been almost an hour, should we go back?"

"He said he’d beep my pager," Honey reminded them.

They found a coffee shop and headed inside for drinks and to sit down. They waved to the limo driver, who had found the same shop, but didn’t sit with him.

Trixie finally said, "If Welte can’t come up with anything concrete, I think we have to start wondering who would benefit from Molinson’s death? And who might think that I was his lover?"

"Dixon," Honey mused, "might’ve thought that he could eliminate Molinson and become Chief of Detectives."

"Improbable," disagreed Mart. "Dixon might have wanted to become Chief of Detectives, but would you kill for that? Obviously, there was no guarantee that he would be, and he didn’t get it. And it’s not like a prestigious job or something. Plus, I never heard of the guy, so he must be new – he wouldn't really know the BWGs."

"But then your theory would make Spider a prime suspect!" exclaimed Honey. Since the consensus was that was impossible, they drifted onto other topics until Honey’s beeper went off. She picked up her cell phone and dialed in the number. "Yeah, we’ll be right there," Trixie and Mart heard her say.

"Time to move, Welte’s got some information for us."

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