Hang-ups Can Happen to You

I'm sorry to say so
But, sadly, it's true
Hang-ups can happen to you.

 

“Was that Bobby?” Trixie asked, glancing across her shoulder as she waited by the window for Captain Molinson to pick her up. She was relieved at the prospect of leaving Crabapple Farm for a few hours. The nightmares had returned full strength after her odd conversation with Jim in the stables. Her screams had awakened her parents and nothing she could say seemed to relieve their concerns.

“Yes, he’s going to be home this weekend,” Helen answered. “He’s going to bring a few friends with him to spend the holidays with us.”

“That’s nice,” Trixie responded absently.

Trixie’s response alarmed Helen more than the nightmare had. Where are the questions about who is coming? Isn’t she going to ask me where everyone will sleep?

Helen waited a few moments for the questions and then sat down, astonished by Trixie’s lukewarm reaction.

“What did you do yesterday afternoon, sweetie?” Helen probed, attempting to be nonchalant.

“I went for a walk, up to the stables to see Susie,” Trixie replied, staring hard at the driveway. Where is he? Trixie hoped if she just thought about it hard enough, the police captain would appear in time to keep her from answering any more questions.

“Are you sure it wasn’t too much for you?”

Trixie turned to look at her Moms. “No, it was fine. I rested a while when I got there and then mostly I just talked to the horses before I came home.”

Helen Belden hadn’t raised four kids without learning how to tell when she was being given a partial story. Trixie was well skilled in the art of evasion.

“Mostly?” she inquired.

Trixie started to answer and was rescued by the arrival of a Sleepyside Police car into the driveway of Crabapple Farm. “Sorry, Moms. Captain Molinson is here, I’ll talk to you later.” She hurried out the door quickly; Helen was certain something more had happened the day before.

 

 

Wendell Molinson pulled his cruiser into the Belden driveway. He had rehearsed his meeting with Trixie a hundred times in his mind. I’ve got to see the look in her eyes when I ask her if she trusts me. There were a few times when I was stupid with her schemes when she was a teenager … This time it has to be right. Counting on civilians is just asking for trouble, but this time it might be the only way. We’ll be in a public place. It’s the right time and the right day, I only hope we have the right people there.

He pulled to a stop, pushing the gear shift into park, as he sighed to himself. Okay, Wendell. Here goes nothing! He opened the door but before he could get out of the vehicle and get to the door, Trixie came running out to join him for their breakfast meeting.

“In a hurry, Belden?” he asked as she buckled her seat belt after a hurried good morning.

“Um, no, just hungry,” she stammered looking directly at him.

The police captain nodded. The hurt in her eyes was apparent to him. Something was bothering her. How did she do so well with the feds? She shows her feelings in her eyes as obviously as a billboard. Any suspect should have seen the truth right there in her eyes.

“We’ll be there is just a few minutes. Thought we’d drop in over at Dino’s. They make some mean waffles.”

“I thought they had changed the name of that place?” Trixie said as she remembered the diner with the dirty window, its name painstakingly lettered in gold on the glass.

“Yeah, Dana’s, Dani’s, Dina’s – whatever. It will always be Dino’s to me. They still have the stupid dinosaur on the sign so don’t know why they bothered to change the name.”

“I guess you’re right. From the sounds of the names, they don’t have much money to change the signage if they’re only changing a couple of letters.”

“Might as well just call it the diner. Unless they clean up the windows and the parking lot, no one but us cops will eat there anyway.”

“Why do the cops like to eat there?” she asked.

“The usual reason cops eat anywhere. Its open 24 hours and they give a free coffee and donut to cops on shift after midnight.”

 

 

Trixie slid into the booth across from the police captain, and asked for just coffee from the older waitress.

“Thought you were hungry,” the Captain remarked as he ordered a full breakfast complete with eggs and bacon.

“I guess I’ll have a waffle with that,” she added guiltily. “Do you have strawberry syrup?” Trixie wasn’t at all certain she could eat anything, but at least she would have something to do with her hands.

The waitress smiled as she cut her eyes at the police captain. “Oh, definitely. Some of our police officers request it from time to time.”

Molinson quirked at eyebrow at the waitress before she left to turn in their order. then made idle chitchat until their food arrived. After the hot plates of food were set in front of them he politely asked her to leave the pot of coffee.

“Sure thing, Del. If you need anything else, just wave. Your check will be at the register.

“Thanks, Ethel,” he replied with a half-smile as he picked up the warm strawberry syrup.

“Do you eat here often?” Trixie asked.

“Most mornings I’ll stop by for breakfast or at least coffee. Ethel knows if I tell her to leave the pot that I don’t want to be bothered.”

“Okay, Captain Molinson, what’s the story. Why are we talking here?” Trixie asked, watching him drown his short stack in syrup. Her breakfast looked meager next to his hearty order.

“Belden, we’ve known each other for some time,” he started, cutting into the stack. “I think we know each other well enough that I can tell you something without telling you anything.”

“Plausible deniability?” she suggested before biting into a piece of toast.

“Not exactly,” he hedged. “Do you trust me?” He stopped speaking to stare at her face, as if studying her expression for a response to his question.

“There have been a few times when you let me down,” she protested. “Remember the phony professor who stole the Wheeler’s Renoir?”

Molinson nodded. “How about we say that’s when I finally learned my lesson? You taught me a few things about listening and maybe you learned a few things, too.” He raised one eyebrow in question to her.

“Maybe.” Trixie shrugged.

“Hmm. Well, after that Laura Ramsey came through town, I had the impression that maybe you would admit I taught you a few things as well.”

Trixie remembered how she had called the police that night and Molinson had responded. “Yes, you did. For what it’s worth, yes, I trust you.”

“With your life?” he asked, pushing.

“Yes, I think so,” she admitted.

“What about Jim? Do you trust me with Jim’s life?”

What’s so important? Trixie puzzled. “What does Jim have to do with us trusting each other?” she demanded.

“Maybe something, maybe not.” He shrugged in his turn. “I can’t tell you until we make sure we’re going to totally trust each other.”

Trixie was quiet as she slowly nibbled at her bacon, thinking hard. She had experienced her share of run-ins with Molinson but if the truth were told, she always believed he was on her side. She remembered how careful he had been when little kids were involved in something, showing a side of him with the Dodge children she had never forgotten.

“Do you trust me?” she finally asked, instead of answering his question.

“Look, Belden. I wouldn’t be here with you right now if I didn’t trust you. And believe me when I say I trust you and that entire group of yours with my life and the lives of most of my men. But that’s not going to be enough unless you trust me the same way.”

Trixie finished the slice of bacon and then sipped her coffee. “I trust you, completely,” she declared at last.

Wendell nodded in satisfaction. “Then I have an assignment for you, off the record.”

“What is it?”

“Find out where Jonesy was working.”

“Dan told me that the conclusion was that he lied to his parole officer; he was just doing odd jobs.”

“That’s what the police reports stated,” Molinson’s voice dropped to a murmur.

Trixie stared. He’s trying to tell me something, what is it? She stopped eating to watch him dig into the pancakes, thinking hard. The light bulb came on and she leaned forward, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why don’t you believe the police reports?”

Molinson took another bite before answering. “Because even stupid parole officers verify employment.”

“Are you saying you’ve talked to his parole officer?” Trixie asked.

He nodded as he continued eating. “She doesn’t remember the name of the place and she’s stupid because she didn’t write it in his file, but she does remember calling and confirming.”

“Gleeps, Captain! She can’t remember something that simple?” Trixie was amazed. Observation had become a second nature to her. Sometimes she forgot how long it had taken her to train her own memory to retain even the smallest details.

“Jones was active case number 142 for her,” he said quietly.

Trixie shook her head in disbelief, although she recalled similar caseloads in Washington during her stint there.

“She thinks it was related to his old business, the truck farm, back in Albany,” Molinson explained as he put his fork down and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. He poured both of them more coffee and neither spoke as they each, almost in unison, added two creams and one sugar to the warmed cups and stirred slowly.

“Why aren’t you having the primaries follow-up on this?” she finally asked.

Wendell looked hard at his plate, which still held a couple of syrup-sodden bites of pancake. He finally met Trixie’s gaze steadily. “Will you let me say it’s that trust thing and let it go?”

He’s not saying what I think he’s saying… she thought, returning his stare. Then it hit her. “You have a cop gone bad!” she hissed.

He nodded. “I have my suspicions, but nothing concrete to pin on them.”

Her temper began to boil as she jumped to a conclusion. “If you think for one minute that Dan is on the take, then let me just tell you--”

“Hold the phones!” he exclaimed, holding up his hands in protest. “I never even implied I suspected Dan or Spider either for that matter. Let’s just say those two are in the circle of trust. But remember, right now they don’t really report to me directly and I need them to stay clean until they finish up that task force. Both of them are due for promotions if they can pull it off.”

Trixie’s blue eyes flashed but she nodded in assent, her face scarlet. She remembered her rotation through the FBI’s version of internal affairs; it was the absolute pits of all the rotations.

Molinson suddenly seemed a million miles away. She studied him carefully and noticed he was staring at some activity in the front of the restaurant.

He sighed to himself, gave her an almost imperceptible glance and switched to a totally different approach.

“Listen to me, Belden, and listen good.” His voice was deep and loud. “I don’t give a rat’s ass what you want to know, what your friends want to know, much less what your boyfriend wants to know. This is my police precinct and I’ll run it how I see fit. You’ve made a career out of involving yourself in my cases and making my life hell. Now butt out, Belden, before I get my own lawyer and slap you with a charge of police interference!” He stood up and made his way to the register. He practically threw some bills at an astounded Ethel and stormed out of the café. A red-faced Trixie was left sitting in the back booth and wondering how she would get home.

 

 

“Ringo ended up being a big, fat, zero for us on this task force,” Spider complained as he and Dan made their rounds through downtown Sleepyside. “We have about three more months to get this project finished before the money runs out,” he reminded his partner, who was looking out the window.

“We’ll make it,” Dan answered succinctly.

“Glad one of us thinks so,” Spider grumbled as he turned to cruise down Hawthorne Street.

The ringing of Dan’s cell phone interrupted further conversation. He glanced at the display and frowned as he answered.

“Detective Mangan.”

He nodded and tried to speak a couple of times, before finally saying, “I’ll be right there.”

“Where to?” Spider asked.

“The café over on Croton, the one that changes names every six months.”

“Dino’s Diner,” Spider said easily. “Who are we meeting? Or are we going to eat?”

“Trixie. She said she was in a bind and needed someone strong to come help protect her,” Dan answered, shoving his cell phone back into the case.

“She’s in trouble, again?”

Dan shook his head, “No, I’m pretty sure I’m the one who’s in trouble.”

 

 

Trixie was sitting at the counter stirring cream into her coffee when Dan and Spider pushed into the café twenty minutes later. “Why, look here, Ethel! Here are my rescuers right now!” Trixie said to the waitress, giving Dan a mocking smile. “Would you two Dudley Do-rights like some coffee?”

“Dudley’s Canadian, Trix.” Spider slid onto a stool next to her. “I’d like some coffee.”

“What’s the problem, Trixie?” Dan was impatient to find out why he had been summoned.

“You should have told me, Dan.”

“Trixie, I --” he stopped. She knows!

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Maybe you and I could go outside and discuss this while Spider has his coffee.” Dan evaded the question.

“Sounds good to me!” Spider’s tone was cheerful. “Someone’s going to get it, but good. It’s much better for it to be you than me.” He reached for the sugar and picked up a spoon.

“Thanks, partner,” Dan mumbled, as he threw a couple of crumpled dollar bills down on the counter. “Put the rest on his tab,” he added nodding towards Spider. “Come on, Trix. Let’s get this over with.”

Trixie walked outside the café with Dan. As soon as they were out the door and standing in front of the large glass window with the letters “Dena’s Diner” outlined, she turned and looked him square in the eye. “You should have told me! How could you not tell me?”

“I guess you’ve talked to Jim,” Dan replied. Her words hurt him more than a direct hit to the solar plexus.

“Yes. I didn’t buy his explanation. Let’s see if I can buy what you’re selling.” She crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly.

“Trixie, he was Jim’s stepfather. He had the right to know first.”

“Maybe, but you had no right to keep it from us!” Trixie declared, with a stomp of her foot.

“Jim wanted to keep it quiet for just a couple of days.”

“Why?”

“Cripes, Trixie! Calm down, it was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Can’t you give the guy a break?”

“Why?”

“What’s your problem, Trixie? It was Jim’s decision and I agreed with it.” He stood a little straighter, knowing the blame was coming.

“You told Regan.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Jim told his Dad.”

“A man tells his father things, Trixie. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is not telling me and not telling Honey! We had a right to know. You know we checked the parole records every month.”

“So you missed it, what’s the big deal? You would have found out in a couple of days.”

“The big deal is you and Jim still think you need to protect us. We are NOT schoolgirls, Dan. We don’t need you to keep things from us. We can handle a piece of crappy news the day before a holiday!”

“Oh, please! You think that’s what this is all about? Give me a break. You couldn’t be more wrong.”

“Really? Then why didn’t you tell all of us, Dan? Give me one good reason why you waited.”

“I told you Trix, he was Jim’s stepfather. It was Jim’s decision. I respect Jim and I respect the decision he made. Maybe you should listen to the guy before you go jumping to conclusions.”

“Damn it, Dan. I did listen to him! I listened to him tell me how you and the rest of our friends set us up in an elevator in Syracuse. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Yeah, I knew about it, so what? If the two of you would just talk to each other more and listen to each other more, your friends wouldn’t be forced to push you to do what two mature adults should already be doing!”

“I listened to him say he told his Dad. That you told Regan, that my own father was told as well as Mr. Maypenny and Tom. But gosh, Dan, I didn’t seem to hear any valid reason why I wouldn’t have been told. Do you know something else I don’t know, Dan?”

“Get over it, Trix. For the first time in almost a year the guy had a couple of days off work. Some time to spend with his girl. Maybe he just wanted to have some fun and relax.”

“And telling me would have changed that, HOW?”

“If he told you, it would be totally different. You seem to think he should get his girl all spun up about his stepfather being out on parole. He just wanted time with you, Trixie. Time alone, without all the responsibilities of the students and the school and being the boss of all those employees, just some time to have a little fun.”

“We would have still had fun!”

“No! You would have had fun, Jim would be miserable. You would have immediately told Honey. You would have started bugging me about looking for Jonesy. You would want to talk to his parole office right away. You would want to find out where he was living. You would have had fun doing all that. Jim would just be following you while you did all that, because he’s crazy in love with you.”

“How dare you say that! I’m not thirteen anymore, Dan.”

“No, but you do what you do because you love it and think its fun. You and Honey love your careers, investigating and figuring out mysteries. Jim doesn’t. He would spend all that time worried about you and Honey and worried about what his stepfather was doing. He wouldn’t have had five minutes of fun.”

“Yeah, well maybe he worries too much!”

“Right, Trixie. Do you ever think about how much that guy loves you? He’s always going to worry about you. Deal with it or drop him before you hurt him.”

“You’re wrong, Dan. You don’t seem to think I am mature enough to handle negative news in an appropriate way. Did you even think if Jim had told us, all of us, then maybe none of this would have happened! Did you think about that, Dan? Maybe Jim wouldn’t have been hurt, he wouldn’t be walking around with a stupid cane! Do you ever think about that, Dan?”

“Every day, Trixie. Maybe you wouldn’t be standing here yelling at me with a cast on your arm, bruises that I can still see on your face, and I suspect a back that still looks like hell. Don’t worry about that, Trixie. I know that everything that happened to you and Jim is my fault.”

“Are you out of your mind?” she asked.

“Come on, Trix. I’ll take you home,” he said wearily as he reached for her arm.

She yanked it back and glared at him. “You and I both know whose fault this is and it’s not yours!”

“Beatrix Belden!” he was in her face now. “Are you trying to blame this on Jim? He was doing what he thought was right.”

She pushed him then, shoved him as hard as she could, hard enough he stumbled backwards. “You moron! Of course I’m not trying to blame this on Jim. Why would I try and blame Jim or you for something that is clearly my fault?”

Spider was out the door in a flash. “What in the hell’s the matter with you two?” he demanded. “Do you realize you’re standing on a public street? That reporter in there with the Sun is just eating this up. He just went to get a new glass from Ethel so he could see if he could hear what you two are saying. Give it a rest!”

Trixie turned away then, mumbling something incoherent.

Dan sighed, pushing his hand through his hair. His recent experience with women had him zero for two and it didn’t look as if his average was going to improve.

“Trixie let me take you home. We can talk on the way,” he suggested.

She shook her head, “No thanks. Can you grab me a cab?” she asked, refusing to look at him.

“Trixie, we can take you home.” Spider interjected, bewildered at the obvious conflict between the two friends.

“Spider, please?” she implored. “Just get me a cab. I’m not going home.”

It only took Spider only a minute to flag down a cab and get her inside. He gave the driver a hard look before glancing back at Trixie. He saw the blue eyes filling up as he shut the door and turned to Dan as the cab pulled away. “Now what in the hell was that all about?”

 

 

“Look Liz, if you tell me you’ve checked every possible place, then I believe you.” Honey’s voice was full of disappointment as she spoke into the phone. “If you can’t find an insurance policy with either Jonesy’s or Jim’s name on it, like I’ve been looking for ... then it doesn’t exist. Jack’s looked behind me and now you’ve looked behind both of us. I’ll have to try something else.”

She sat up straight as she caught sight of a distraught Trixie standing in her doorway, and spoke quickly. “I need to call you back. My partner has decided to come into the office today.”

Honey hurriedly hung up the phone and stood, crossing the office to put her arm around her closest friend. “What’s wrong, Trix?”

“Honey, can we go somewhere to talk? Somewhere absolutely private where we know we can’t possibly be overheard?” Trixie asked in a strangled voice.

“What are you saying, Trixie? Do you think our office is bugged?”

Trixie shook her head, “Of course not, I just don’t want to be interrupted or overheard.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Honey, did you know that Jim and Dan knew Jonesy was out on parole and didn’t tell us?”

“Yes,” she answered, wondering where this was leading.

“Oh, Honey!” Trixie exclaimed. “Don’t you think they should have told us? They told Regan and Matthew, but they didn’t tell us!”

“Trixie!” Honey hugged her friend before leading her to the loveseat in her office. Honey had been more than a little irritated when she first learned this bit of news, but finally reconciled herself with the realization that the two men really hadn’t had time to let them know. She strongly suspected what Jim’s intentions had been, mostly from what he hadn’t told her.

“Is that what’s bothering you? The fact that Jim and Dan didn’t tell you about Jonesy?” she asked abandoning her infamous tact. Honey shook her head and sighed before she moved to grab a clean mug from the beverage cart next to her office door and poured a coffee into it from the thermal carafe. She automatically added Trixie’s usual cream and sugar before handing it to her best friend.

“Yes.” Trixie answered, after taking a fortifying sip of the fragrant brew. “Are you saying it doesn’t bother you?”

“It did at first,” she admitted, snagging her own mug from her desk before sitting down. “But I finally decided I had to trust Jim and Dan. They trust our decisions, Trixie. We have to trust their decision.”

“Oh, Honey! I can’t believe you’re taking their side!” Trixie wailed.

“Trixie, we’re all on the same side,” Honey said softly. She studied Trixie’s face and noted the hurt and confusion. “Are you saying its Jim’s and Dan’s fault, what happened?”

“Honey, don’t be ridic! Of course, it’s not their fault.”

Honey nodded. “I was wondering when you would remember.”

“Remember what?”

“Remember that it was my job to check the parole hearings each month and confirm Jonesy hadn’t been released. When we got so busy with the insurance proposal, I forgot. I didn’t check it for over two months. If I had just remembered --”

“Honey Wheeler Belden! Do not think for one second that I think this is your fault! I would normally check on Jonesy’s parole just like you did. Dan just happened to be the one that found out first.”

“I guess.” Honey’s voice was diffident.

“Dan didn’t find it first?” Trixie queried.

“Actually, Captain Molinson is the one who found out first. He warned Dan.” Honey answered.

“How did you know?” Trixie demanded, sitting her coffee down. “I can’t believe Molinson! He’s a perfect jerk … refusing to tell me anything about the case or letting me help. He agreed to meet me for breakfast to discuss it and then threatened to charge me with interfering. Oh, he’s just like all the rest of them. Honey, how can you let them off the hook for not telling us?”

“When you were in the hospital, I asked a lot of questions. Some of the same ones you’re asking now.” Honey shifted to pick up her mug of coffee, taking a sip. “That’s how I found out Dan knew Jonesy was out of prison. That led to how he found out … and that led to developing theories.” Sighing she sat the mug back down. “Molinson did let me read the early police reports. When the three of us – Dan, Spider and me – disagreed over Jonesy’s motive, well … we each started working on our own. Liz and I have been trying to track down a life insurance policy that I decided Jonesy still had on Jim. But we haven’t had a bit of luck.”

Trixie looked at her hands, refusing to meet her partner’s eyes. “When did you decide it was okay for Dan and Jim not to have told us?”

“When I realized that they would never have been upset with me for not telling them.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I had checked the records on Wednesday, or on Tuesday before Thanksgiving, I probably would have told you. But, Trixie,” Honey took a deep breath. “I think we would have waited to tell the boys until after Thanksgiving.”

“Would you have told Brian?” Trixie asked.

“Yes, I would have told him.” Honey answered honestly.

“Would Brian have told you?” she pushed again.

“Yes, he probably would have told me,” Honey admitted. “Trixie, just because Jim didn’t tell you doesn’t mean he doesn’t care for you. He loves you, Trixie. Please, just give him a chance.”

“You don’t think he didn’t tell us because he was trying to protect us?” Trixie’s shoulders sagged as she spoke, as if the fight were draining out of her. Her blue eyes clouded over with doubt instead of hurt.

“No, I don’t think he was thinking that at all.” Honey was emphatic in her answer. Her arm automatically went around Trixie’s sagging shoulders.

“You don’t think Dan should’ve told us?”

“No, Dan told the right person, Trix. We both know that we would’ve told Jim and let him decide who else to tell and when to tell it.”

“Honey, what does it mean that Jim didn’t tell me?” she asked. “You said you and Brian would’ve confided in each other. Why doesn’t Jim think of me like that?”

“What is making you doubt Jim?” Honey asked. “Once the two of you are married, it’ll be that way with you. For one thing, when you’re sleeping in the same bed with someone every night, you talk about everything. It’s not like Jim was keeping a secret from you, he just --” She stopped. Trixie was entirely too quiet. Her tumultuous emotions were clearly reflected in her face. “Trixie, what’s really wrong?”

“Honey, why has Jim never mentioned getting married or our future?” she asked. “Ever since that night at the bowling alley, when things got pretty heated between us, he’s been totally distant. We both know how honorable he is. Do you think that he was disappointed that I told him I wanted to be with him … you know, sleep with him?”

Honey shook her head, remembering that Trixie was still naïve in this one particular area. “Trixie, have you been with Jim, like that?”

“No, I wasn’t – we weren’t, uh, prepared.” She looked at Honey as if willing her to understand what she was saying.

Honey understood completely. In fact, she understood too well. “Trixie, why is this bothering you?”

“I don’t know!” her friend lamented. “For the first few days, when the nightmares were so bad, I just wanted to talk to Jim, to make sure he was okay. When I finally got to see him, I was shocked at how terrible he looked and his not remembering what happened, it hit me hard. Honey, it felt like he was going to break things off with me but he was afraid to hurt me while I was down.”

“What is it about the two of you that you can’t talk honestly about your feelings and your desires?” Honey demanded. “Trixie, he blames himself for everything that happened, and for not telling you. He’s afraid you are going to break things off with him. Why the two of you can’t talk about things just blows my mind! Both of you need a good kick in the butt!”

Trixie looked askance at Honey. Her mild mannered and tactful friend had disappeared and had been replaced by an indignant and … righteous person. She giggled helplessly. She was reminded of thirteen-year-old Honey, talking to the criminals in the barn when they were looking for Jim, pretending to be on the take.

Honey looked at her, “What’s so funny?”

“You!” she answered leaning over to give her friend a hug. “Come on, Honey, let’s go grab a snack. It’s too late for breakfast and too early for lunch. Plus, if I don’t get on the next train to Sleepyside Moms is going to start calling everyone. She has no idea I came into the city.”

“Oh, Trixie! You didn’t have Tom drive you? You know you can always call on him.” Honey admonished her friend.

“No, it was a spur of the moment decision. I needed to see you. Come on, walk me to the train station. I need to tell you about Di’s devious plot to trap Jim and me in the elevator at Syracuse.”

“What!”