Things Have Changed

People are crazy and times are strange
I'm locked in tight, I'm out of range
I used to care, but things have changed

 

Trixie pushed a harried hand through her hair, registering that she absolutely needed a haircut before the weekend festivities. At this point it just seemed like one more item on her already overwhelming list of things to do. Unfortunately, one of the items on that list was standing in front of her. She felt the new phone in her pocket and wondered how Jim would react when she asked him to change his phone. She still wasn't sure how best to approach him about the Orchid files she'd discovered on her flash drive.

“Are we meeting Honey and Brian?”

“No,” Jim replied with a shake of his head. His brow furrowed. “Something's going on with those two. Has Honey said anything to you?”

“Sorta,” Trixie hedged. “She asked me if we could talk after the fundraiser, but she said she's not ready to talk about it now.”

“She told me to stay out of her, uh, coupledom I think it what she called it.” Jim frowned. It wasn't like his sister to talk to him that way, a clear sign that she was stressed.

“She's not moving to New York,” Trixie said quietly. “She's not ready to stop being a lawyer. Something's going on, but it's not about us. It's something else.”

“Yeah, I'm sure you're right.” Jim shook his head. “It's going to rain. You still want to take a chance on walking?”

Trixie punched in the codes to lock down the office security, and turned out the lights, pulling the door shut. “Let's chance it.”

The night was cool, with that humid feeling in the air that meant it could start raining at any moment. So much was going on with the case; Trixie hardly knew how to start. She still couldn't believe she'd handed over the keys to the Lillibet to Elizabeth Patterson. She glanced sideways to see if she could get a read on Jim. They had walked for several blocks before she decided how to approach the subject.

“Do you remember telling me about your friend Mike and his former fiancée, Eliza?”

“Sure,” Jim replied easily. “I think he avoids the city because of her.”

“When you first told me about her, I had no idea that she was Buff -- uh, Elizabeth Patterson.”

“I didn't know you knew her,” Jim answered with a frown. “Isn't she older than you?”

“Well, yes of course, just like Mike is older than you,” Trixie pointed out. “What does her age have to do with anything?”

“Nothing, I guess,” he replied with a frown. “How do you know Eliza or Elizabeth or whatever name she’s going by now?”

“The first time I met her was at a society event here in the city,” Trixie replied carefully. “She certainly set my hackles off at the time. But lately, she’s really made me wonder about some things.”

“What kind of things …” he asked, glancing up at the sky as he felt a drop on his arm.

Trixie shrugged. “She seemed to want to talk to Mike.”

Jim stopped. “Trixie …” His voice was full of warning.

She stopped as well, and turned to look at him. “I didn’t get involved, Jim. I promise, but she told me her side of the story and I think she deserves a chance to be heard. I just wish ….” She stopped and realized exactly what she wished. She wished that Beth was talking to Jim about the flash drive and that she was talking to Mike. But unfortunately, that ship had sailed -- literally and figuratively.

“What?” He prompted. “What do you wish?”

“I wish I hadn’t accepted this assignment to work undercover,” she whispered. “I wish I’d opened my agency in some crappy little dump in the Bronx or on the edge of Harlem or some other non-fashionable and unsafe location and that I could help people I wanted to help. Not look for lost dogs, and wear stupid designer clothes and …”

“Trixie,” Jim pulled her next to him in an embrace giving her a hug. “It can’t be that bad!”

She allowed herself to enjoy embrace of Jim’s strong arms, the security and reassurance gave her a peace she knew she’d been craving. But if they were going to have any chance at all, she had to come clean, about everything. She stepped back.

“You and Mike left some files on my flash drive you borrowed,” she said.

“Sorry about that,” Jim apologized. “I guess we just figured you’d know it was fine to delete them. It was just a temporary thing. We have our presentation for the fundraiser ready.”

“That’s what I thought, but you should know that I opened them up. Looked through them and even read some sections of the uncompiled code.”

Jim leaned his head to one side and gave her a puzzled look. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Again, it’s fine for you to look at the files. What did you think?”

Trixie bit her lip. “I think you have the safest, most secure system of any school in New York, in the United States—hell, in the world.” She pushed a hand through her curls. “Jim, the security in your system is state of the art. Didn’t you realize that the U.S. Government would want to know about that software?”

Jim frowned, clearly not liking at all where this conversation was going. “Why? Why do they care? They have security beyond anything our little school’s software could ever hope to achieve.”

She shook her head. “No,” she said solemnly. “No they don’t. Your security solution is revolutionary. It proves a mathematical equation that’s been unsolved for years. You and Mike could file your solution with the Clay Institute and receive a significant award for solving one of the six remaining unsolved problems in mathematics.”

Jim stared. “What are you saying, Trix?” he finally asked.

“I’m not saying anything,” she said. “I’m asking you when you two finished the design of your security solution, who tested it, and who all knows about it?

“We finished it over the holidays,” he answered. “At Christmas. We tested it, Mike and I, we both did. I didn’t tell anyone about it, except maybe I mentioned to Dad in passing that we’d finished our program and it looked good. But I’m certain that nothing specific was said about the security part of it. Several people know we’ve been designing SMARTSchool software solution. Mike got help on parts of it, but that’s never been a secret, what we were doing. I don’t understand, Trix. It’s just computer software to run a school. You’re not making any sense.”

“Oh, Jim!” She sighed and shook her head. “None of it makes sense!”

Just then, the sky opened up and the cloudburst drenched them both.

 

 

Where Mike was staying was a key piece of information she’d been missing. Once Beatrix had shared that with her, it was simple to wait him out in the foyer of the large Central Park West apartment building. She knew the building well, and after slipping a large tip to the doorman, she knew she’d be warned when Mike approached. But now that the downpour had started she wondered how much longer he’d be.

Fortunately, as things turned out, she didn’t have to wait long. She watched as he exited a taxi, the awning protecting him from the worst of the rain. With a sigh of relief, she decided at least he wouldn’t be both soaking wet and angry at the same time. As he entered the building, she timed her approach carefully, grateful for the empty lobby.

“Mike,” she said softly at the right moment. “I need to talk to you.”

He froze on his way to the elevator that serviced only the top three floors of the building. Turning slowly, he looked at her before retorting, “We don’t have anything to talk about.”

“Yes, we do. Please. We can talk right here, it’s important.”

“It may be important to you, but it’s not important to me.” He turned and strode toward the elevator.

“Do you want your friend Jim Frayne to go to prison because you’ve refused to talk to me?” She reached for him before he could punch the elevator button and placed her hand on his arm. It was a desperate move, but after all, she was a desperate woman.

“Why would you have any control over whether Jim Frayne goes to prison?” he barked, jerking his arm away and continuing in his chosen path. He stopped and pushed the call button several times, clearly irritated that the elevator wasn’t waiting for him.

“Because he’s selling the software you developed to terrorists,” she said. “Please, Mike. It really is important.”

“What do you know about terrorists?” he jeered, without even turning around to look at her.

“More than I ever wanted to know,” she replied. “But most of it I learned from Jared Somer.”

That did it. He turned to face her. “What’s going on Eee – Lize – a – Beth?” It was a name he’d only used when he was irritated with her, a play on the names she liked, but she took it as a positive sign.

“I need to talk to you, Mike. Please? It’s important, a matter of life and death. If you don’t believe me, call Jim’s fiancée. She’ll tell you that I’m on the up and up.”

“Trixie? Trixie knows about this?”

She hesitated at the less familiar nickname for her contact and then nodded, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “She does.”

The elevator door opened and his gaze darted back and forth from the open elevator door to Beth. Finally, he took a step toward her. “Get her on your phone.”

She shook her head. “I lost my phone earlier today.” There was no point in telling him her phone had gone over the side of the Lillibet in at least ten different pieces. That much could wait. “Call your friend Jim. She’s with him.”

Sighing deeply, he did as she asked. He exchanged a short, clipped conversation with his friend and then, obviously, with Trixie before disconnecting the call.

“Trixie has asked me to hear you out,” he admitted grudgingly. “She says that everything you tell me will be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. That she’d bet her life I’m going to need to hear what you have to say.”

Beth expelled her breath in relief, not even realizing she’d been holding it during his call. “The whole truth,” she agreed. “But not here. Let’s go someplace private.”

“Your place?” he asked doubtfully.

She shook her head. “Not safe. Let’s go to my Dad’s place, he’s out of town.”

“Your Dad’s place?” He was clearly taken aback. Even when they were engaged, that was one domicile he’d never visited. He had no idea where Sam Patterson lived. “Where’s that?”

She pointed a finger up. “The 24^th floor. With any luck the elevator is still waiting.” She crossed in front of him and pushed the button.

 

 

“What the hell do you mean you cleared Wheeler International from the list of suspects? Why didn't you tell me my family were suspects in your case?”

After being drenched in the rainstorm it was evident that Trixie’s and Jim’s plans for dinner needed adjusting. It was a quick subway ride to her apartment, and after changing into dry clothes Trixie summarized her entire case for him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” It wasn’t the first time he’d asked the question, and Trixie had done her best to answer it. But Jim couldn’t hide his resentment. He’d started to interrupt her several times, ice-cold fury flashing from his eyes when she mentioned that Wheeler International was a suspect, but she held firm that he let her finish.

“Jim, if you interrupt me we’ll never get through this. Only stop me if you don’t understand why I’m telling you. Otherwise, let me finish. Then you can talk.”

He gave in, pressing his lips together tightly. She left out nothing except the identity of Beth Patterson as her confidential informant. She felt she owed that to Beth, but at the same time, she had a feeling from the look in Jim’s eyes that he figured that out on his own.

Finally it was his turn, and he more than had his say, ranting for several minutes about trust, disbelief, and finally hurt. He began to repeat his tirade.

“Why didn’t you tell me we were suspects? All that time you were helping Dad, you were investigating him? Is that even legal?”

“Dammit, Jim!” She’d had enough. Listening to him once was fair, listening to it twice was not. “You can ask Honey if it’s legal or not. Does it matter? Your father isn’t guilty of anything other than having a stubborn son! You said you understood that there would be things I couldn’t tell you; just like there would be things you couldn’t tell me. Now you’re mad about those very things. It’s an undercover assignment. If it weren’t for the fact that it’s obvious the entire case has been compromised, I wouldn’t be telling you now!”

“But Trixie –”

“No!” She shouted, just as angry as he’d been. “No buts. I made the best decision I could at the time, just like I made the best decision earlier to tell Beth where she could find Mike, and just like I made the best decision I could to tell you everything. It is what it is.” She crossed her arms in front of her, her posture as defensive as her words. “Either you respect me, my judgment, and my decisions or you don’t! Which is it?”

He stared, struggling to control his own anger. “It feels like I’ve been played for the fool. Are we real? Is this –” he flicked a finger back and forth between them. “Is this real, or is it part of being undercover?”

At that moment, she understood. He was more hurt than angry. Scared that their engagement was part of the job, the operation, the case. Was he another honey pot like the one she’d tried to explain to him?

She shook her head. “Jim, I could never …” Her voice choked and she stopped. Drawing a breath, she tried again. “You are everything to me. You’re my best friend, my hero, my ideal. You are the only thing that’s helped me to keep all this real. I love you –”

His anger evaporated as he absorbed the truth in Trixie’s voice. It was easy to stop her. Jim pulled her into his arms, wrapping them around her and holding her close. “I love you, too. It’s just all so … unbelievable.”

They stayed together in a close embrace for a few minutes. “Come on; let’s figure the rest of this out in the morning.” He pulled her toward the bedroom.”

Trixie followed willingly. The day had gone on long, with never a moment to stop and relax. With the fundraiser in two days, it was becoming clear she wasn’t going to resolve the case before the gala was over. She might as well take a break and clear her head. But as they both once again started to shed clothing, all thoughts of supper forgotten, it was clear Jim had a few final questions.

“I can’t believe that Ben’s pulled that stunt,” Jim said, pulling the t-shirt over his head. “The entire story’s incredible. Why would he do that to you and Honey? Why would he even pretend to be some kind of secret agent?”

“I’m not sure.” Trixie spoke from the adjoining bathroom, her words garbled since she was brushing her teeth. “But I’m worried about him.” Jim heard nothing but sounds of swishing, running water and gargling for a few moments, before she spoke again. “If he’s mixed up with whom we think he’s mixed up with, it’s bad news any way you slice it.”

“How on earth could someone as smart as Ben get mixed up with a group of terrorists?” Jim asked, settling back on the bed waiting for her.

“How could Allison?” Trixie replied. “It just happens. A weak spot is exploited and then before you know it, you’re involved. But I don’t want to talk about work anymore tonight. Can we have a change in topic?”

“Sure we can,” he replied easily as she finally emerged from the en suite. “That shirt looks familiar.”

Trixie smiled as she took in the sight of him. Wearing nothing but a pair of form-fitting boxer briefs, he was fully reclined on her bed, his hands behind his head. At first glance he appeared relaxed. But more careful observation revealed there was one part of him that was anything but relaxed, in fact it was quite rigid. Observing his obvious arousal made her smile again.

“It should,” she informed him loftily. “You left it here the other day and I decided I liked the way it smelled, so I kept it.”

“You liked the way it smelled?” He quirked a questioning brow. “How does it smell?”

“Like you,” she explained.

“Oh? And how do I smell?” he asked.

“It’s just a little bit mysterious, a sort of sexy mix of fresh air and an earthy sort of woodsy scent. It reminds me a little bit of the game preserve, or nature.”

Jim frowned, not sure at all that he wanted to smell earthy. That sounded a little bit too close to body odor. He stopped and turned his to head to sniff his shoulder. “Earthy? Are you saying that I stink?”

Trixie giggled. “No, you smell masculine, like oh ….” She tilted her head to one side and gave him a coquettish smile, her eyes full of invitation. Climbing onto the bed, she scooted closer until she was resting on her knees and leaning half over him. She spoke in husky tones. “You smell like James Bond, that new guy, the really rugged one.” She kissed him.

“Okay, so I don’t stink,” he finally managed. “But I don’t believe you should be wearing my shirt. In fact, I don’t remember giving you permission to wear it.”

Grinning, she pushed away slightly, still sitting on her knees, her legs tucked under her. “You are absolutely right,” she confirmed. “You didn’t. In fact, I better take it off and find something else.” She moved as if to search for another garment to sleep in that evening, but Jim grabbed her hand.

“It would be much better if you took it off first,” he explained. “That way I can, uh, check and make sure that you haven’t, um, you haven’t damaged it somehow. In fact, I’m pretty certain you may have stretched it in all the wrong places.”

“Stretched it?” she said. “Oh, I hope not!” In one swift, cross-armed movement, the shirt was pulled over her head, tousling her short blonde curls. She held it out to him. “You’d better inspect it. I hope it’s not stretched too badly.” Her eyes blinked rapidly, her expression one of complete innocence.

“I don’t see how it can’t be stretched,” he complained without glancing at the shirt, his eyes feasting on her instead. He knew he’d never get tired of looking at her. She didn’t have a classic beauty, or even a lithe gracefulness, but her compact, athletic form managed to drive him crazy. For most men, it might be easy to dismiss Trixie. Her beauty was different, it had to be discovered. It came from her spirit, her personality, her seemingly unlimited energy. When she smiled, or her eyes twinkled, or she tossed her head causing the curls to bounce, it took his breath away. He reached for her, hungrily. It was time for the games to be over.

“You drive me crazy,” he murmured, before claiming her lips.

 

 

“So where do we go from here?” Brian asked. They had spent the hours since Jim left them alone in the penthouse arguing. That was followed by a round of making up, arguing again and then making up yet again; the last time in bed. For some reason, ignoring their problems seemed to be what they both needed. After a round in the shower, then a bowl of hot soup, they were settled back in Honey’s bed together, in each other’s arms. “We know this isn’t our problem.”

“No, this never has been a problem. In fact, this part has been the easiest of all.” She paused and took a breath. “Brian, I can’t explain it to myself, much less to you, but I feel like I owe it to Jed to go to Chicago and work on his case. I’m not in love with him, I can assure you of that, but we left things unresolved between us. And it feels like something I have to do.” She rolled slightly in his arms so she could look him in the face. “I don’t mean to hurt you over this, but I have to go.”

Brian studied his golden girl. He’d always felt as if the two of them had drifted together in Boston. It had started as a relationship based on friendship before quickly igniting into something hot and fiery for both of them. He’d wondered if it had been too easy, if they’d burn out before they could address the reticence he’d felt in the beginning. Now he felt as if it were coming true.

“If you feel that way, then go – with my blessing.”

The look of peace that transformed her face made him realize just how torn she’d been about her decision. “Are you sure?”

“Honey, my honey.” He stroked her hair. “If we’re going to get married, then we both have to be all in—completely and fully dedicated to a marriage that we want to work. I want a relationship where we can be totally honest with each other in all aspects of our lives.” He took a deep breath. “Like the fact that I lost my virginity to Loyola Kevins before I left for college.”

Honey’s eyes widened in shock. They’d agreed from the beginning they wouldn’t discuss past relationships that way. “You and Loyola?” she echoed.

“Yep,” he nodded. “It started out as a scientific experiment, we both were curious and we both wanted to know what it was all about.”

“Is that how it ended?”

He gave a wry chuckle. “Nope, we satisfied our, uh, scientific curiosity and then we continued experimenting until it was time for both of us to leave for our respective colleges. She headed west to California and I stayed on the east coast. We exchanged emails a few times, but I haven’t seen her or talked to her since my freshman year of college.” He turned his head to one side. “What about you?”

“Not until college,” she admitted. “My first boyfriend, Harry. But I really thought it was going to happen at my prom.”

“Your prom …” he frowned as he tried to remember who Honey had attended her prom with. “But you went to your prom with Nick Roberts. Nick’s … he’s … “

“Yeah, that’s what I found out after prom,” she said wryly. “He came out to me while we were at Killfish point. I had no idea.”

Brian chuckled. “To tell you the truth, it surprised me when I heard it as well. For some reason, that had never crossed my mind.” He pulled her back down into the crook of his arm. “I’ve been with more women than just Loyola, but I’ve always been careful. Some meant something to me, and some were just … I don’t know, just a way to get some release. College was demanding and …” he shrugged. “I’m not apologizing for my past, Honey. Just know that I’ve never been careless with a girl’s heart. Not ever, and I’m not going to start now.”

Honey was silent. She knew this was the time, she should tell him right now but somehow she just couldn’t It didn’t seem right to tell him the truth about her relationship with Jed when she’d never even bothered to tell Jed.

“I’ve been with a few men, Brian. I’m not going to judge. But …” She stopped. Even the next part was hard.

“But what …” he finally asked, deciding she needed the prompt.

“Until Jed, it was always me. I was the one who called it quits on the relationship. Don’t get me wrong, I was careful … I’d never willingly hurt any of the guys I was with, but it was the first time a guy had dumped me and it hurt.”

“But you feel like you need to defend him against this murder charge.”

“Yeah, I know. It doesn’t make sense to me, either.” She sighed. “Why does life have to be so hard?” She wondered.

“Because while falling in love is easy, relationships are hard,” Brian replied. “They take a lot of work, and both people have to be committed to making them work. Neither Loyola nor I were committed to a relationship, that’s what made leaving each other so easy.”

Honey lay silent for a few minutes digesting his words. They made perfect sense. Finally, she rolled over on her stomach and looked at her fiancée. “Brian, I have nothing but respect for you and your life and what you’ve done. But there are things in my life that I left unresolved in Chicago. All I can ask is that you trust me to work them out.”

“I do trust you, Honey,” he replied. “It’s Jed I don’t trust.”

“Don’t worry about that,” she settled back in the crook of his arm. “Just because I don’t think he’s a murderer, doesn’t mean I trust him.”

 

 

“Let me get this straight, you expect me to believe that you never cheated on me, that I misinterpreted the entire situation with finding you and my father together, and that somehow in all of this you’re the injured party?” The sarcasm was thick enough to cut with a knife.

She whirled around from her pacing and glared at him. “That’s right! Just like you expect me to believe that two guys just happened to write some software that sets cyber security ahead by a century but they’re too dense and stupid to grasp what they’ve developed! Get off it, Mike. You’ve got an undergraduate in math, a master’s degree in computer science and I suspect soon you’ll have a PhD in some other related technology. You know good and damn well you understand the significance of that software. Why didn’t you tell Frayne?”

She’d been guessing but when he looked down at his hands and his face pinked she realized he did know. He knew exactly what the software was. Why did he hide it?

“Mike.” She crossed over to him and dropped down in front of his chair, reaching for his hands. “Tell me. Why did you let Frayne think the two of you came up with that solution?”

He studied his hands for a few minutes and finally looked at her. “You know there’s a reason I don’t stay with my Mom when I’m in town.”

She frowned and gave a slight shrug. “I figured as much. Why?”

“I don’t trust her husband and certainly don’t trust my step-sister. After … you know everything that happened. When we’d all left the hospital and things between us, were well, they were bad.”

She nodded in understanding but said nothing.

“I came back to the office. I wanted to be alone and I just wanted to be around Dad’s things. When I got there Tim was there, in Dad’s office. It was obvious that I’d interrupted him that he was looking for something. Of course, at first he was all about condolences, how could he help, blah, blah, blah, but then, when I pretty much dismissed him and asked him to leave, he blew up. He told me he was with my mother, that he’d been with her a long time and that they’d be getting married as soon as possible. He had a few choice words for Dad, implied that he’d taken advantage of my mother’s mind somehow in running Kingston, and then I knew -- he was looking for something, only he wasn't exactly sure how or where to find it.”

“The software?” she asked.

“Not exactly,” he replied with a shake of his head. “Dad kept a journal, his hobby journal. He loved math, not just as work or business, but the joy of solving equations, the balance of it all. He had notes on every single one of the Clay’s Institutes Millennium problems, what he thought it would mean to solve them, stuff like that. I mean real math geek stuff. But the one, the one we used, he was close, Beth. I mean really close. Close enough that Jim and I could figure it out from his notes. Once we did, I knew what it meant, but I didn’t want to give it to the feds, I’d seen enough of them and how they handled things in Washington. I sure as hell wasn’t going to give it to anyone else, so I decided just to use it. The software we developed represents a tremendous shift in education administration. The sheer amount of online resources and capabilities help the infrastructure data integrate in a new environment.”

Frowning as she tried to grasp what he said. “I'm not sure I understand,” she finally said. “It just sounds like a bunch of buzz words.”

He looked sheepish. “Sorry, professor talk. The point is to allow educators and teachers to focus on students, not on administration, paperwork, facilities. Everything, or almost everything, in the school is automated, from changing a light bulb in a class room to requesting chalk or sharpie markers, or copies.”

She nodded. But that other thing you said ... it meant something too.

He grinned as he realized she’d picked up on it. “What thing?”

“The online resources thing,” she said with a frown.

He remained silent grinning waiting for her to figure it out. He knew she would and saw the exact moment she figured it out on her face.

Her jaw dropped. “That’s ORCHID!”