Face Up to Your Problems

On and on you will hike
And I know you'll hike far
And face up to your problems
Whatever they are.

 

Trixie stared at her notes, absently chewing on a fingernail as she pondered yet again the outcome of a conversation she had with her friends the previous evening. None of them had been happy with the outcome. Trixie had finally wheedled Dan into stopping by the farm to talk to her and Honey together that evening. She outlined her preliminary theory about why Jonesy had abducted her and Jim to her two friends. None of them were able to agree on a single conclusion, based on available evidence. The conversation left her confused.

“Insurance? What do you mean? How could Jonesy be involved in your insurance account stuff?” Dan challenged Trixie’s suggestion.

She tried to explain, but he disputed her theory. “He’s not smart enough to run an insurance fraud racket, Trixie. Hell, the man could barely operate Jim’s cell phone. It takes real finesse to pull off large scale insurance fraud. I think you’re barking up the wrong tree!”

“Dan, if it’s not our work with New York Mutual then it might be the investigation we were doing for Tom and Celia.” Trixie was nothing if not persistent.

“How? Just because he was working here in Sleepyside….” Dan began.

“Jonesy was working somewhere?” Trixie interrupted with interest.

“Not exactly. Apparently he was working as an independent contractor. So far we haven’t been able to find out what kind of work he was doing.” Honey joined the conversation.

“See, Dan!” Trixie exclaimed. “There might be a connection; if we could find out where he was living...”

“Trixie – “Dan spoke again with a shake of his head. “Lt. Turner and Detective West exhausted that lead. He had a room over on Hawthorne, but nothing there to say what he was doing, if anything. He had eight bucks in his wallet and another $60 something in his room. It’s possible he was just doing odd jobs, picking up what cash he could.”

“But Danny, Jonesy wouldn’t care anything about Jim or me if there wasn’t some money in it somehow!” Trixie made a final attempt.

Dan exchanged a glance with Honey before he spoke. “Trixie, we’re telling you, we can’t find a link anywhere!”

Sighing in frustration, Trixie reviewed her notes. They were nothing more than a jumble of disjointed facts. She needed to connect the dots and discern a motive. Finally, she threw down her pencil and picked up the phone, dialing a number she had memorized as a teenager. When she was finally connected, she launched into an explanation worthy of those teenage days.

Listening patiently, Wendell Molinson shook his head as he stared at the blotter on his desk.

The spirited, impulsive teen Molinson first met years ago had grown up into a vivacious, inquisitive young woman. She was a professional herself now, one that had managed to involve herself in much of his law enforcement career. It wasn’t until she began to repeat herself that he interrupted.

“Listen, Belden. Spider Webster and Dan Mangan have a full-time assignment and are being paid from a federal grant. Do you know what kind of trouble I could get in if word got out they were working on an assault and kidnapping case for the Sleepyside Police Department?”

“Oh, give me a break!” Trixie retorted. “You’ve probably tap danced around those arguments for half your career. And if this is a kidnapping case, why haven’t you just turned it over to the feds?”

“Are you saying your friends from the FBI could have figured this out already?” Molinson barked.

“No, I’m just asking you why, in a case that clearly has personal ties to the Bob-Whites, you won’t let us help you.”

“Belden, you know why! Would you ask that brother of yours to take out his own appendix? Mangan has no business meddling in this case!”

“Well, I’m going to be meddling in this case, so are you going to let me help or am I going to have to work around you?”

The phone connection was strangely silent for several long moments before the Captain answered at last.

“Can you meet me this afternoon, say three o’clock?”

“No, I can’t drive until they remove this stupid plaster cast from my hand.” Trixie’s disgust was audible.

“Then be ready tomorrow at seven. I’ll pick you up and we can talk about it over breakfast.” He hung up without waiting for an answer.

“But I don’t want to wait until--” she stared at the handset, hearing the familiar dial tone that signaled he had hung up. She slammed the phone down in frustration. “That pompous, arrogant …. Oh! He makes me so mad!” She fumed as she stood up. Concentrating on the case now would be futile. Having been cooped up indoors for most of the day, Trixie was restless. She had dropped right back into investigating mode, but her limitations were thwarting her ability gather evidence, and her head ached.

She walked into the kitchen, realizing that she was actually alone at the farm. Moms had left to do her shopping earlier, and would be having lunch with her garden club. She absently snagged a glass and automatically downed two aspirin as she stared out the kitchen window at the dazzling landscape. What snow was left sparkled in the sunlight. It was definitely a cold and bright winter day. Inspired by the sight, she scribbled a quick note. After all, there was no one home to tell her she wasn’t up to a walk. She grabbed her gloves, scarf and hat and pulled on her jacket, quickly escaping the confines of the house.

Trixie breathed deeply. The cold, crisp winter air smelled wonderful. She looked around, wondering where she should go. Where do I love to be most of all? She thought. No, there’s no way I can go back to the clubhouse yet… someplace else. Trixie trudged slowly up towards the stables at Manor House. If she couldn’t talk to anyone else, she could always talk to Susie. She mentally crossed her fingers that Regan would be busy somewhere else.

Trixie called Regan’s name after entering the stables and when she received no answer, heaved a sigh of relief. She sat down on a convenient bale of hay and tried to convince herself it was because Regan wasn’t around. That was easier than admitting that the walk had exhausted her. After a brief rest, she found Susie and began to talk as she combed her favorite horse. The soft snickers and snuffles of the horses combined with the warmth of the snug and neat stable, to lull Trixie into a state of relaxation she hadn’t felt in weeks. She began to smile as she talked conversationally to the black mare. She might have spent more time in the stable with the horse, but Regan appeared in the doorway.

His eyes narrowed as he recognized the visitor to his stable. His large, freckled hands were on his hips when he asked her in his usual blunt way, “You weren’t thinking of going for a ride with that hand, were you?”

Trixie knew him well enough by now that she simply teased him back. “And what if I was?”

“Then I might have to bust you back down to stable-boy and start you mucking out stalls. You can ride again, when I say you can ride again.” His own grin belied the dictatorial tone of his statement.

“Oh, and you don’t think the doctors have a say?” she retorted, tossing her head.

“No,” he answered succinctly.

She attempted a brighter smile and managed it for just an instant, before the façade she had constructed began to crumble. “Oh, Regan! Do you think it’s ever going to be back to normal?” Tears welled in her eyes.

Regan was not put off by her tears. “Trixie Belden! Tell me what normal is around this place and then I’ll let you know. Do you mean will it ever get back to you being wrapped up in some mystery? Well, you’re wrapped up in one right now. If back to normal means will you be well enough to ride again? Then of course you will, but I should have known Miss Fidget would think she should be completely healed in just a couple of weeks instead of a couple of months. So tell me what normal is and I’ll let you know!”

“Normal is everyone treating you like they always did, like they always have. Not treating you like you’re going to break,” Trixie choked out the words as she impatiently brushed at the tears on her face.

Regan sighed. He took a few steps, and gathered her carefully into a hug before attempting to explain his theory on her friends’ and family’s reactions to her experience. “You don’t treat something that you love, something that’s rare and precious, the same way you did… after you almost lost it forever. Give us some time, Trixie. Jonesy came too close to taking you both from us. We’re not going to get over that quickly.”

Trixie nodded, her head buried in his chest.

“If you need to be treated the same, just come to this stable. Susie will treat you the same and so will I. In fact, I don’t see any reason you can’t clean tack with one hand. Do you?”

Trixie sniffed and replied. “But whose tack would I clean? You just said I couldn’t ride until you said so.”

“You can always clean mine,” he teased as he ruffled her curls. “Come on, let me take you home. You look awfully pale for someone who thinks they’re ready to ride.”

“I never said I thought I was ready to ride. I can walk home just fine.”

“And here I was hoping that maybe I could talk you into staying for dinner.” A familiar voice spoke from the doorway.

“Jim!” Trixie exclaimed staring at the supple young man framed in the door of the stable. “You’re not going to be home until tomorrow!”

“That was yesterday, so now it’s tomorrow,” he replied with an apparent casualness.

Trixie felt her face flush as she stood, speechless. Now that the very person she had been longing to see was standing a few feet away, she had no idea what she should say or do.

“If I’m interrupting your private time then I can leave,” he told her stiffly as his heart pounded.

She stood strangely still as she stared at him, scrutinizing everything about his appearance. Jim seems really pale! No one told me he was using a cane, she fumed. Wincing at the very idea of it, she felt the bitterness towards Jonesy building again inside her. She failed to realize the effect her lack of reaction was creating in the supple redhead’s mind.

Jim sighed. “Okay, I can get the hint. I’ll leave you alone.” He turned to leave the stable, and suddenly his acute disappointment was palpable to Trixie.

“Jim! Don’t leave!” she cried, leaping towards him, failing to compensate for his injured leg as she threw herself into his arms. The momentum worked against them, and both of them toppled, fortunately landing on a cushion of hay.

“Trixie!” he murmured as he framed her face with his hands. He stared as if he were drinking in the sight of his favorite girl, before tenderly capturing her lips. The long slow kiss seemed to right their world.

He finally pulled back looking at her fondly. “I thought you were avoiding me.”

Trixie cringed at his rueful admission and gave him a quick kiss in response. “I thought you were avoiding me.”

Regan shook his head as he watched the pair of them. “You two take the prize! Is it any wonder your friends had to interfere to get the two of you together?”

“What?” Trixie exclaimed, pushing herself up. “What did you say?”

Regan groaned, “Oh, great! Now I’ve done it. Listen, Trixie – I wasn’t supposed to say anything and well now I’ve gone and blown it. Bobby is going to kill me and he’s supposed to be the one that can’t keep a secret.”

“Bobby? You and Bobby set us up?” Trixie couldn’t believe her ears as she stared at Regan’s red face.

“Not exactly,” he stammered, before being interrupted by Jim.

“Regan, I think it would be better if you let me explain it to Trixie,” Jim suggested, with a meaningful look at the flustered groom.

“Okay, well… I need to grab some files from the office here and head back to the school. The stalls are ready for those horses and I just want the paperwork ready for them as well. You two take care and I’ll see you later. Trix, you be sure and let me know if you need a ride home,” Regan called over his shoulder as he hastened into the office and quickly grabbed the necessary files before beating a hasty retreat.

Trixie turned to look at Jim. She started firing questions at him before Regan was gone.

“You know about this? You can explain what he meant? Did Bobby tell you how I felt before that weekend? Were you in on --”

“Trixie!” Jim placed his hand behind her head and pulled her toward him for another long, slow kiss. By the end of their kiss, her face was flushed and her eyes were clouded with passion.

Trixie stared into his green eyes, wondering if it was the same for him as it was for her. The heat they generated between them was gravitating towards her brain and muddling her thinking, slowing her down long enough for him to explain.

“Remember the weekend in Syracuse with the boys? The elevator was a set-up,” he said, studying her reaction.

“How… how do you know?” she asked him.

He shrugged as he answered her with his usual honesty. “That night, when I was in bed thinking about you and what had happened, the music was too much of a coincidence. All those old, slow songs you can dance close too…they don’t play those songs in elevators. I listened the next day. Every time we were in the elevator the music was the typical stuff. Someone had to have set us up and since Bobby was the one that called me and asked if you could accompany the students as a chaperone…”

Trixie nodded. “Did you ask him?”

“No, not then. Later when he came home for Thanksgiving, I gave him a ride home from the station. Do you remember?”

Trixie nodded, listening intently.

Jim scooted closer to her. He picked up her good hand and began playing with her fingers. “He kept quizzing me on how things were going between us and I pretty much told him that things between the two of us were going to stay between the two of us. The same thing I told Brian, remember?”

Again, Trixie only nodded.

“When he pushed, I told him I knew about the elevator. He was surprised that I had figured it out and he admitted it had been a set up. It was obvious he didn’t want me to tell you, so I told him I would only tell you if you asked me. Trix, I was so glad to be with you, it didn’t bother me in the least that they set it up. All of them must have been in on the plans -- Dan, Regan, Mart and Diana – heck, probably Bobby’s roommates as well. The rest of the trip we stayed pretty close and none of them said a word. They didn’t say a word when we got back to Sleepyside either.”

Trixie sat quietly, reflecting on Jim’s revelation about their weekend at Syracuse.

“You’re not mad are you, Trix?”

She glanced up at him, picking up on the anxiety in his voice. “No, of course not. It was one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

“You don’t seem too happy about it,” he commented.

“Well….. it just seems strange. Usually, I’m the suspicious one that doesn’t believe in coincidences… but you’re the one that figured it out. It seems that lately I’ve lost my edge, my instincts about mysteries.”

“No, you’ve still got it, Trix. Both of us wanted to be together, so why would you question the events that brought us together?” Jim continued. “It really wasn’t until the next day that I was sure. I mean, come on, Trix. It had to be obvious to everyone when we got off the elevator that we had done a lot more than talk. Dan said something but your own brothers didn’t say a word. That’s what finally convinced me it was a set-up. The fact that Mart didn’t make any teasing, polysyllabic comments about what we had done for all that time in the elevator.”

“Jim, maybe you’re right about the elevator set-up, but every year since I spent my first internship with the FBI, I check on Jonesy’s parole. How did I miss it? How could I have not known he was out of prison?” she asked, her voice full of the anguish and guilt she still felt over what had happened.

Jim winced and ran a hand through his hair. “Trixie, Dan told me Jonesy was out on parole the night before Thanksgiving. I decided to wait until after the weekend to tell you. If I had any idea he was going to try something stupid like he did, I would never have waited.”

“You knew he was out?” She was clearly stunned.

“Yes.”

“You knew he was out on parole and you didn’t tell me?” She spoke as if the information was difficult to comprehend.

“Trixie, I hadn’t known but about a day and a half. Your friend was in town and Bobby was home. I didn’t want to put a damper on the party.”

“You and Dan both knew he was out on parole and you didn’t tell the rest of us?” she said it again, enunciating each word slowly and clearly as if it were important to make sure this particular fact was accurate.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Trixie, I’ve been trying to tell you. Dan and I both thought it could wait a few days until after the Thanksgiving festivities were over. Dad agreed with me and --”

“You told your father?” she interrupted.

“Yes.”

“You and Dan both knew he was out on parole and you didn’t tell me or the rest of the Bob-Whites but you told your father?” She repeated what she had heard again in a strangled voice.

“Trixie, let me finish explaining. We, all of us, just wanted to keep it quiet until after the holiday weekend.”

“Exactly who knew, besides the three of you?”

“Dan told Regan. I told my Dad. Dad told mother, your dad and Tom. Regan told Mr. Maypenny.”

“So you, Dan, your father, Regan, my dad, your mother, Tom and Mr. Maypenny were all deemed to be in a special group of people who could… how shall we say this… afford to have their Thanksgiving holiday dampened by this news?”

Jim knew from the tone of her voice that something was wrong.

“Trixie, I’ve been trying to tell everyone that once you knew this you would agree that this entire mess was my fault,” he explained. “If I had just told you like I wanted to instead of waiting until after I — well waiting until after the weekend.” He finished lamely.

“If you wanted to tell me instead of waiting, then why didn’t you?” she asked him frowning as she tried to follow his explanation. “Why do you think this is your fault? What he did to you and to me, you think it’s your fault?” She was almost whispering.

“Of course it’s my fault, Trix. If I had told you then you would have been prepared.”

Trixie shook her head, trying to follow Jim’s logic. She wasn’t sure if she could explain how his announcement he knew Jonesy was out of prison bothered her. Of course, there he goes being all honorable all over the place. I can’t believe he wants to take the blame for something that is clearly my fault. She took a deep breath before responding.

“Jim, Honey and I have worked with law enforcement for years. We knew Jonesy didn’t have a life sentence and he would get out of prison eventually. We’ve discussed it several times and like I told you we routinely checked the list of parole candidates to see if his parole had been granted. You wouldn’t have ruined our holiday if you told us. I’m not sure why you think it could have ruined anything, but I can’t believe Dan didn’t get it.”

“Are you saying you think its Dan’s fault?” Jim asked her. He seemed as confused by her logic as she had been by his.

“Don’t be ridic!” she snapped. She took a deep breath so she could continue more calmly. “Jim, it’s not that I don’t appreciate your consideration, but the truth of the matter is I can handle this kind of news. I don’t need you to protect me from bad news.”

“Trixie, that’s not it at all. You don’t understand.” Jim’s tone was pleading, almost desperate.

“I understand a lot more than you think,” Trixie assured him. “Listen, Jim. The person to blame is me. When they knocked on the door, I didn’t even look. I just opened the door like a naïve girl who had never been taught to check for strangers. If I had been thinking and looked to see who was there, well … we wouldn’t have been abducted.” She finished quietly as she stared at his face, her expression imploring that he not only understand that it was her fault, but that he would also forgive her lapse of judgment.

“Are you out of your mind, Trix?” Jim demanded. “Jonesy was my stepfather, not yours and we both know that it’s my…” he stopped abruptly, as if her comment was just sinking in. “What do you mean they knocked on the door? It was just Jonesy, right?”

Trixie stared, as the realization hit her head-on. Jim doesn’t remember what had happened. “What do you remember?” she asked him, striving to keep the anxiety out of her voice.

“Everything that happened up until the point I got to your apartment. We were going to ride together. I remember that your door was open a crack and when I pushed it open you were sitting there, and well… you know, right?” he said as he picked up her uninjured hand, unconsciously rubbing her thumb with his own.

Trixie nodded.

“The next thing I remember is waking up in the clubhouse, Jonesy was talking--” Jim stopped. Of course, Jonesy was talking to someone else! Jim closed his eyes as he remembered studying the clubhouse as he tried to pretend he was still unconscious. He whispered, “I knew right off it was him, but I didn’t think you did. I couldn’t control my temper and I mouthed off to him, Trix. Then he beat me with his belt just like--” Jim stopped abruptly; he closed his eyes as a wave of nausea struck him. “Trixie, I just realized … you were there.” Jim opened his eyes, studying her face noting the bruises and the injured hand. “He must have hurt you. Is that why I don’t remember?” he asked.

Trixie shrugged. Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered how hard it had been to watch Jonesy beat Jim. She knew how to handle the pain when he had beaten her, but that pain had been nothing compared to watching Jonesy beat Jim. It still hurt when she remembered it.

“Oh, God, Trixie! Tell me please, what all did he do to you, to us?” Jim pleaded his hand tightening on her good hand. Trixie shook her head.

“Jim, not now, please!” she begged. “I can’t do it right now.”

“Why?”

“I just can’t.”

“Will you, sometime?” he asked.

Trixie was quiet. Can I ever tell him? I don’t care if he never remembers what happened.

Jim asked again, “Will you eventually tell me, if I don’t remember?” he pushed.

“I don’t know,” she admitted quietly. “Jim, can we just go back to why you didn’t tell me Jonesy was out on parole?”

He opened his mouth to protest and then shut it as he carefully considered what she was saying. He knew from her tone she was upset so he took a deep breath, resolving himself to be patient. “Trixie,” he finally said. “We --, well me --, I just wanted to wait until after Thanksgiving. There was a lot going on, and I had other things to think about. When Dan said he was out and living in Westchester County, he just wanted me to be aware in case Jonesy called me or something.”

“Dan told you he was living here in Westchester County?” Trixie was incredulous.

“Yeah, so said his parole officer.”

Trixie shut her eyes. Is it just me? Am I the only one who thinks Dan should have told me first, before he told Jim?

She opened her eyes and saw that Jim was gazing anxiously at her face. She pushed herself up, dusting hay from her jacket. “Jim, I need to go now. I’ve got to think about this.”

“Trixie, I was hoping you would stay and eat supper. This is the last night for me to stay here. Tomorrow I’m going back to work.”

Trixie studied him even more closely. “Thanks, Jim. But I’ve got some serious thinking to do. I can’t imagine what would have been more important than telling Honey and me about Jonesy’s parole.”

“Trixie,” Jim pleaded. “Please understand, it was just going to be a couple of days. We had no way of knowing Jonesy was planning any kind of malfeasance.”

“Jim, I am trying to understand. That’s why I need to think about this. The reason for coming here in the first place was to be alone and think.”

“You’re angry with me.”

“No!” She gave a vehement shake of her head. “No, I’m not. I have to admit some disappointment in Dan and in you. I think that you think you were trying to protect me by not telling me.”

“Trixie, it was Thanksgiving! A time of friends, fellowship, and thanksgiving! Why can’t you understand? It was a simple decision to wait a few days that backfired on me.”

“I’ll see you later, Jim.” Trixie turned and slipped down the path, finally releasing the hot tears she had been holding back.