The Edge of Glory

I'm on the edge of glory,
and I'm hanging on a moment of truth
Out on the edge of glory,
and I'm hanging on a moment with you.

 

“You realize there are some rather large gaps in the timeline?” Ben looked up from the file. “I’m not even sure you could get an indictment with this, and you know what they say: you can get an indictment for a cheese sandwich.”

Dan shrugged. “It’s not my case, but I suspect the holes you’re talking about are the reason there haven’t been any charges.”

“This is all the traffic cams gave you?”

“I’m only going to say this once.” Dan leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. “Everything we have is in the file. Nothing is missing. Got it?”

“Got it,” Ben acknowledged. “So can’t you check with the neighbors? This is an upscale area of the city. There have to be private security cameras.”

“We’re not idiots, Riker,” Dan answered. “It takes full cooperation or a warrant. Like you said, this is an upscale area. The neighbors want us to go through their lawyers, or they’re out of town, or they’ll get back to us. You can be assured, we’re working all the angles. The mayor gets two briefings a day on this case.”

Ben nodded. Trixie had told him she had a source with sufficient pictures from the Skating Gala to clear Reid Beckhart from physically committing the crime. However, that wouldn’t make any difference if he’d hired someone to murder his wife. Still, he couldn’t imagine Reid as the killer. The guy he knew would’ve never allowed his daughter to walk in on the crime scene.

Ben leaned back and tapped the stack of photos. “The Beckharts live in one of the most popular areas of Manhattan. Their street is photographed and traversed by locals and tourists. The security systems on these homes have to be top of the line. If they’re not cooperating then either they don’t have what you need or they don’t like how they’ve been asked.” Noting Dan’s worsening mood, he changed to a different tack. “By any chance, did you check with the better known street photographers? Hell, it wouldn’t surprise me if even Diana had a few shots of this particular street. New York in early spring, that kind of thing, should be popular.”

Dan had no response for that one. He made a mental note to suggest it to the detective in charge and said nothing.

“So you haven’t checked,” Ben finally stated. “And not one neighbor has cooperated with your investigations. Doesn’t that make you wonder?”

Dan leaned forward, his eyes darkened. “What makes me wonder is why are you here? You’re looking for something in particular. What is it?”

“Proof,” he said shortly. “I know who killed Allison Beckhart, I just need to prove it.”

“You wanna share?”

Ben shook his head. “Not really.”

“And if you get the proof are you going to give it to us?”

Once again Ben shook his head. “Not likely. The problem is, the killer is my client.”

Dan jaw dropped at this bombshell. “So what will you do?”

“Let me worry about that,” Ben quipped as he stood. “Thanks Mangan. Guess I’ll see you tonight.”

Dan nodded, and stared as Ben left the squad room. He picked up the picture and stared, wondering exactly how Ben Riker had gotten himself a murderer as a client.

 

 

The three female Bobwhites had progressed from facials and massages to manicures and pedicures when the manager of the spa approached Diana. “Mrs. Belden, you have an urgent phone call. I explained our no cell phone policy, but the gentleman insisted it was important.”

“Are you sure he meant me?” Diana asked.

“Diana Belden, he was quite insistent,” the manager confirmed. “Shall I bring you the phone?”

Diana nodded as she chewed her lip. “Do you think it’s a problem with the band?” she wondered, shooting an anxious look at Trixie and Honey. “Omigod, if they don’t show up what will we do?”

“Find out what it is first,” Trixie advised drily. “Knowing my brother, he’s probably just now wondering what he’s going to wear tonight.”

The cordless phone handset was handed to Diana, who immediately identified herself.

“Oh!,” her friends heard her say. “It’s you. What’s so important?”

Honey and Trixie exchanged glances as Diana’s brow knit in concentration. “I’m in middle of a mani--, of something right now; you’ll have to wait until I finish.”

Her friends didn’t bother to hide their interest in the conversation.

“Do I want to know what you’re going to do with them?” After a brief break, she continued. “Yes, I’ll get you everything I have but it’s going to be at least an hour.”

Again, she listened in silence and then sighed. “The easiest way is to do a search on Instapics or Phlickster. They let you search by location or themes, and they have an entire following. Any internet search should get you the blogs.” A momentary pause and she spoke again. “No, you don’t need a search warrant, you just need to sign up.” Another short silence before she continued. “Don’t be ridic, it’s free. Okay, I’ll call you when we’re done.”

Disconnecting the call, she handed the phone to the manager and thanked her before leaning back in the comfortable chair and closing her eyes. “It’s always something,” she murmured.

“What was that all about?” Trixie asked.

“Apparently Ben Riker is looking for some of my photographs. He wants everything I took on April 14^th. Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

Trixie leaned back and sighed. She should have realized it herself. Walt Tyllman was far from the only photographer in New York. The streets were teeming with professionals and amateurs alike. She knew Diana kept a photography blog and had received an award for her series of a park bench taken over the course of a year. The bench wasn’t far from the Beckhart’s street at all.

“Do you still take a lot of photos?” Honey asked.

Diana reached into her purse and pulled out a small camera. “You two are not nearly as observant as you think. Do you want to know how many pictures I’ve taken since we’ve been here?”

“You’ve been taking pictures?”

Diana pressed a few buttons and looked up and smiled. “Over fifty,” she confirmed and snapped another of Trixie looking shocked. “You’ve gotten so used to it that you don’t even notice. My phone takes pretty good shots as well. Just because I don’t drag out my kit doesn’t mean I’m not taking pictures.”

“Diana,” Trixie said slowly. “I think I’m going to need a copy of your pictures too.”

Diana giggled and extended her hand to admire the color the nail technician had applied to her left hand while she was on the phone. “Yep, Ben said you’d be asking.”

 

 

Ben knew his limits. There was no way he could navigate the boundless territory of the internet, blogs, and photographs in the amount of time Trixie had given him to obtain his proof. But he knew someone who could, and it just so happened that someone had a vested interest in seeing this issue resolved. All it took was a quick phone call to his former colleague, Charlie Prescott. Fortunately, Charlie was quick and smart. He promised to make the phone call Ben needed.

Disconnecting the call he glanced at his watch. He had plenty of time to get his plans in motion. Finding his BLISS unit he tapped in a number.

“Sir?”

“What is it, Riker?” the brusque voice spoke. “You’re only supposed to call if you’ve got something important to report.”

“You don’t think ORCHID is important, sir?” Ben said mildly.

“Speak,” he barked.

“I found it, in fact I’m pretty sure I can get a copy of it tonight,” he informed the party on the other end.

“Where? How?”

“Don’t worry about that, just tell me what I do with it once I have it.”

“I’ll meet you. Send the code when you have it.”

“Where, sir? Where do you want to meet?”

“Don’t worry about where, Riker. I’ll find you.”

The call disconnected and he realized just how right Trixie had been. He had stepped in it deeply. From this point forward, he was going to have to muster every bit of ingenuity he possessed to keep from going under with the rest of them. Taking a deep breath, he left for Mart and Di’s place. He had plenty of time to take care of the pictures and get them to Prescott. After that, he could worry about the rest of his plans for the afternoon and evening.

 

 

Trixie yanked the door open without pausing in her frenetic efforts to complete her ensemble for the fundraiser. “Come on in, I just need a minute!”

Jim stepped into the apartment, looking quite elegant in his formal wear. His breath caught as he watched Trixie flit around the apartment. He wasn’t even certain he was breathing as he saw her scoop up a lipstick and tissue and stick them in a glittery evening bag. She ran a quick finger over her hair as if to ensure her sometimes wayward curls were still smooth and in place before she turned to him and graced him with a smile. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Hold on for just a moment, if you don’t mind,” Jim said as he held up his hand.

“What?” Trixie stared at him in confusion. Looking down at her dress, she searched for a tear, or a stain, something that would ruin its look. “What is it?”

“You’re wearing a white dress.”

Trixie felt her breath hitch. Had she missed something? Was white out for the fundraiser for some reason? Had Grace told her not to wear white? “I …” she took a deep breath. “I don’t understand,” she said slowly.

“You don’t remember?”

She shook her head and looked back over her shoulder towards the bedroom. “I can change if this is a problem, I could wear –”

He closed the short gap between them and softly placed a finger on her lips to silence her.

“I think it was a Valentine’s party, but it was definitely at Di’s house. We were in the middle of the antique show to prove to Mr. Stratton we weren’t some stupid gang. You wore a white dress.”

Trixie nodded. “Yes, and green shoes.” She held up her foot. “Except David insisted on these sapphire ones to match the scarf I’ve got to wear with this. I’m glad you said something, I was about to forget the scarf.”

He looked down at the sparkly heels and nodded in approval. “That night at Di’s just confirmed for me what I already knew, Trix. You were my special girl then and you still are tonight. There’s just something about you in a white dress that pushes all my buttons.” He slowly ran a finger along the straight strapless bodice, causing her to shiver. “I want you.” He lowered his mouth slowly, capturing her lips, deepening the kiss as time ticked slowly by. Time meant nothing for the two of them in that moment, but Jim knew he couldn’t afford this distraction and reluctantly broke the embrace, lifting his mouth from hers and murmuring seductively. “How do you expect me to function all night long when you look like that? My entire adult life has been working toward this goal, to get to tonight, to make Frayler Academy a reality. And now thanks to you, all I want to do is stay here, slowly undress you, and show you exactly what my opinion is of that dress.”

“Oh!” She blew a breath of relief upward, fluttering her stylish curls. A slow, seductive smile emerged. “You like it, then.”

“You better believe I like it,” he growled, kissing her again. His hands plundered the bodice, trying to find exactly what held up the sleeveless banded top. He had little success before she pushed back.

“Jim! I thought you said we were running behind schedule!” she protested. “We needed to be there early, remember? You need to setup and I'm going to check in with security.”

“Yeah, I guess you're right,” he grumbled.

Trixie smiled and poked him in the chest with her index finger. “Later, okay? Remember what you were thinking later when we get back here tonight.”

“But we're all going out for midnight brunch afterwards,” he reminded her. “It will be tomorrow before we’re back here.”

“Then remember what you were thinking when we get back here tomorrow morning, not to mention we don’t have any plans for tomorrow,” she reminded him. “Remember? We planned not to have plans. So we can do whatever you plan.” It was her turn to tease and she slowly drew a finger from his jaw to his ear, stopping to caress the lobe she spoke in a low voice. “I spent the day at this fancy spa with Diana and Honey. I’ve been completely waxed, buffed, and polished.”

Jim growled, shook his head, and took a step back. “You’re killing me.” He couldn’t resist one final quick kiss. “As soon as we get done with brunch, we’re both turning off our phones and not answering any calls for 24 hours. Deal?”

“Deal!” She grinned.

 

 

“Are we running late?” Mart asked mildly as he walked into their bedroom to check on his wife.

“I am,” came a voice from the bathroom. “Just give me a few more minutes. Ben’s favor interfered with my plans for the afternoon.”

Diana walked out of the bathroom wearing the skimpiest underwear that Mart could recall seeing on his wife in some time. “You … you’re wearing that?” Mart stammered as he wondered if it were possible to just forget the silly fundraiser and spend the evening right there in their bedroom.

She turned to him with a frown. “I still have a dress to put on, silly. What’s gotten into you?”

Mart shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away, wondering exactly how she couldn’t see what she did to him. “I know you have a dress, Diana. I didn’t mean that I thought you’d go out in your underwear, it’s just that …” He reached for his perfectly tied tie and loosened it, suddenly finding it a struggle to breathe normally. “I’m not sure how you expect me to function all night knowing what you’re wearing underneath your dress.”

She smiled and crossed to the closet. “You’ll manage because you know that afterwards you’ll get to remove what I’m wearing.”

“Are you sure we have to go to this thing?” he asked.

“I’m sure Martin Belden.” She wisely changed the subject. “What do you think Ben’s doing with all my pictures?”

“You said he just wanted a specific day,” Mart replied refusing to look in his wife’s directly. “Which day?”

“April 14^th,” she answered, tugging the beige dress over her head. “Do you think that means something?” She’d never worn beige before, but this dress had called to her when she tried it on. At first it seemed as if the designer beige floral was a bit of an understatement, but it fit her as if designed with her as the model. Once she tried it on, she knew it was the dress.

“Probably,” Mart replied studying the weather forecast on his phone and looking outside. He shifted into reviewing his things to do list for the job assignment he’d been given earlier in the week.

Di slid into a pair of ridiculously high heels, and with one more tug on the short hem of her dress, she felt ready. Running a hand over her hair to check her coiffure, she was ready for Mart’s reaction. She turned and noticed he was staring out the window.

“I’m ready,” she said softly.

He turned and looked. Immediately, all of his efforts in distracting himself from her earlier appearance in their bedroom were for naught. Control, he thought. Get it under control, Belden. There was baseball, and statistics, the crop reports, anything and everything flew through his mind. He was almost there when all of it was lost. Diana turned around to pick up the bag she planned to carry from the end of their bed and he saw how much of her back was exposed. It was back was cut in such a way that if he hadn’t seen her in her underwear earlier, he would’ve been prepared to swear she wasn’t wearing undergarments.

“No, I’m not ready,” he replied in a throaty tone. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“What’s wrong?” Diana asked as Mart removed his jacket then his tie.

“Sorry, Diana.” He pulled her to him. “This can’t wait.”

He pulled both of them down to the bed. “We’ll just have to be late,” he said as he pushed the already short dress up, brushing his fingers where he knew they’d get her attention.

“We’ll be late,” she agreed as she hungrily reached for his belt. She gave a small, but self-satisfied smile. She’d been right about the dress. It was a killer.

 

 

“You’re ready?” Ben asked in surprise as she opened the door to him. He stood there, in his perfectly tailored Armani tux, his hands in his pockets and surveyed the stunning brunette. Her glamorous gray dress was flattering, displaying her spectacular cleavage, but it lacked a certain pizazz that she normally sported on their dates. She certainly didn’t look like a murderer, much less a terrorist. Unfortunately, he knew all too well exactly what she was. After reading the police folder, it had been easy. Once he had all the pictures in a timeline, he’d have his proof. But if that didn’t work out, he still had his back-up plan. A tiny recorder in his jacket pocket might have to come into play that evening.

“Sweetheart, I was born ready,” she purred. “Why are you so surprised?”

“I don’t know …” he stammered. Silently cursing his nerves, he wished fleetingly that he’d taken Trixie’s advice earlier in the day. “For some reason, I expected you would want to make an entrance.” He shrugged and extended his arm.

“Benjamin, it’s not my wedding!” She waved off his arm for a moment to grab a fur jacket from her closet.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Fur … in April?”

She shrugged. “It’s cool enough. Besides it has plenty of pockets. We’re just going to a silly fundraiser, it’s not like there will be protestors from the animal rights groups.”

He nodded, even while wondering why in the world she needed plenty of pockets, before deciding he really didn’t want to know. “We’ve been invited to a group brunch after the event. Are you interested?”

“Maybe,” she replied seductively. Finally, she took his arm. “There are a lot of things I’m interested in tonight.”

 

 

The Guggenheim sparkled. Between the unique architectural design of the museum, the lighting, and the attire of the participants, it had all the festivity of a red carpet event and more. Grace Wheeler and Carol Lynch exchanged satisfied smiles as the initial crowd arrived. Both of them knew it would be the fundraiser that New York Society talked about for the next year.

“The Squawker is outside fuming that you won’t let them in,” Carol said quietly to her friend. “I hate to say it but the publicity –”

Grace shook her head. “Trixie and Jim promised exclusive rights to an independent photographer. There’s nothing I can do. Besides, we both know The Squawker will pay him top dollar for his photographs later tonight and then Jim and Trixie will have an ally among the paparazzi … for a little while anyway.”

“Goodness, our children are savvier than I realized,” Carol replied as she surveyed the bevy of Bobwhites huddled near the entrance. “Do you think we’ll need to remind them to mingle?”

Grace shook her head. “Just watch, Diana or Honey will break them up in just a few moments, unless Jim beats them it.” Little did the two women know, Trixie had taken charge of the Bobwhites. Shortly she would send the group to mingle using her own unique routine. She started by handing out assignments.

“Did you bring me a copy of the pictures you gave Ben?” Trixie asked.

Diana nodded and reached into her purse, handing Trixie a small flash drive. “Remember, I want the drive back when you’re done with the pictures. It was a gift.”

Trixie noted the familiar drive, it was just like the one she’d received as a gift from Jim. “Must’ve been a popular gift this year,” she murmured. Tucking the drive into her pocket, she gave it a satisfied pat. Jim may have liked the white dress for the way it displayed Trixie’s figure, but Trixie knew she’d found the right dress when she discovered the pockets. “Thanks, Di. Now you and Mart keep an eye on Walt tonight, he has full access but we don’t want him becoming intrusive. Amy Freeman is his date and she’ll make sure he doesn’t make a nuisance of himself, but she’s not as experienced as you. Let him take all the pictures he wants, so long as he stays out of the way.” Di nodded.

“Dan,” she turned to look at her friend. “Where’s your date?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t bring one. Officially, I’m stag. Unofficially, pair me up with whoever you want.”

“Stag is perfect. Cut in on Ben and his date as much as you can. He’s going to need the back-up, since he had to bring one of his clients as his date.”

“One of his clients, huh?” Dan looked at Trixie with narrowed eyes. “Something else you need to tell me, Belden?”

“Keep a close eye on her,” Trixie lowered her voice. “She can be … I don’t know, just watch.”

“Will do,” he affirmed with a nod and left the group wondering if he should make a call to the detective in charge of Allison’s case. Too soon, he finally decided, and went to speak to Mrs. Wheeler.

“Honey and Brian, you know what to do?”

“We’re going to have too much to drink, get falling down drunk and create a disturbance sometime before Jim’s presentation,” Brian interjected. “Diana will take pictures of whoever shows an interest and then—”

He stopped as Trixie’s eyes started to narrow. “Don’t worry, Trixie, we know what to do. If they show up, you want us to watch the father-daughter team of Tinsley Gaitley and Tim Gaitley.”

“That’s right,” Honey placed a hand on Brian’s arm. “I’ll make sure I follow Tinsley to the ladies room and engage her in conversation?” She quirked a questioning eye at Trixie.

“No engaging. Just watch them both. Got it?”

Brian nodded before adding. “We’re all going to watch and report any suspicious activity. Don’t interfere, just report.”

“You’ve got it!” She smiled as she surveyed her friends. “It’s time. Keep in touch, but mingle. If you see something suspicious and you can’t get to me, let Sean Barnes know. Now, if we don’t break up our group soon, trust me, Grace will be over here in just a moment to tell us to go circulate among the guests. Don’t take any chances. We’re not expecting trouble tonight, but if we do, we don’t want anyone hurt. Jim’s school is what matters, which makes the success of this fundraiser our number one priority.”

Heads nodded as the group drifted apart. Each had a specific target assigned by Trixie, and a signal if their person left or if they lost contact. The show was on!

 

 

“Bee—ahh-trix, Dahling!” David Steward embraced her, bussing both her cheeks with his familiar European-style greeting. “You look absolutely charming! I knew that was the dress, I just knew it.” He tilted his head as he studied her look, approving everything he saw from the shade of her fingernail polish to the color of her lipstick. “Tell me, dahling, what did Jim think?”

“He liked it,” she flushed as she recalled the darkening of his eyes earlier in the evening. “David, your flowers are fabulous. I think you outdid yourself. You wouldn’t believe how many people I’ve heard comment on them.”

He flushed and looked embarrassed enough that Jim interceded. “Jim Frayne,” he inserted himself into the conversation extending his hand to David for a firm shake. “It’s nice to finally meet you, David. And Trixie’s right about the flowers. If you managed to satisfy both my mother and my fiancée then you really pulled off the win in my book. As for Trixie’s dress, I don’t believe I’d say that I liked it.” He grinned. “I loved it. There’s just something about my special girl when she wears a white dress. Maybe you’ll have to help her later, I can think of at least one more occasion where she’s definitely going to need a white dress.” He grinned as he reached and tugged Trixie’s curl.

David clapped his hands in delight. “It would be my pleasure to help!” He took the arm of the woman standing next to him who was watching the exchange with obvious pleasure. “Beatrix, you remember my mother, Evelyn Steward. Jim this is my mum.”

“It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Steward. Both Trixie and my father speak very highly of you.”

“Thank you, Jim.” She clasped the extended hand in both of hers. “But call me Evelyn and the feeling is mutual. Now point me to where that rascal you refer to as your father is hanging out so that I can see what he’s been up to.”

Jim waved them both towards the bar where he’d noticed his parents only a few moments earlier.

“Nice people,” he murmured to Trixie as they turned to greet Charlie and Mitsy.

“The best,” she replied before the official duties continued.

 

 

Patrons flowed into the museum. Enough people were in attendance that Trixie wondered if there would indeed be enough seats and plates for everyone who seemed to pass through the doors. Every couple she’d met, all of her original suspects were under one roof. She couldn’t contain her surprise when Reid Beckhart arrived with his daughter to join the rest of the entourage from B3.

“Reid!” She greeted him with pleasure. “I knew that you had tickets, but I didn’t expect you would be here.”

He smiled fondly at her bussing one cheek. “I couldn’t disappoint this girl.” He rested a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Once she found out who the entertainment was tonight, she wouldn’t stop nagging me until I agreed to come and bring her as my date.”

Trixie exchanged an impish grin with Beth Beckhart. “Just wait, you’re going to love the Prairie Rogues. They’re fantastic.”

“I know, they’re one of my favorite groups ever!”

“By the way, Beatrix. Do you think you could get this to Ben Riker?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a flash drive. Trixie blinked. The silly devices were following her everywhere. This one was almost identical to the one Diana had given her. “He brought some pictures by this afternoon and needed a search and index done on these pictures, the ones you gave him, along with some photography blogs. He seemed to think it was time critical so I had Zelda work it as a priority.”

Trixie accepted it and slid it into her pocket. “Sure, I doubt he was expecting you to have it done so quickly.”

Reid shrugged. “There should be benefits to being the boss. Besides, I think have a pretty good idea what’s going on.”

“Did you look at the photo timeline?” Trixie asked.

“No, but I have a copy to review later at home. Ran out of time before my escort started nagging me that it was time to leave.”

“Thanks, Reid. I’ll make sure he gets it.”

Trixie had to squash her own anxiety, as she wanted nothing more than to review the photos herself. “Enjoy yourselves. I think most of your team is already here.”

“What was that all about ---” Jim stopped abruptly. “Kitty!” He gave the lovely brunette a kiss. “You couldn’t do any better for a date than my wayward cousin?”

“Hey!” Ben interjected. “I’m trying to improve my rating around this place. Kitty gives me some much needed credibility that I’m a proper sort of date. Of course, no one knows better exactly how incorrigible I really am!”

Trixie exchanged enthusiastic greetings with both of them, but couldn’t help feeling that Kitty had witnessed the exchange of the flash drive between her and Reid. In fact, she was certain that Kitty was staring at her dress and wondering exactly what was on the small storage device in her pocket.

 

 

In terms of a successful fundraiser the evening was shaping up to be among the best. The women dazzled in their best evening wear, the wine and champagne flowed freely, the flowers were lush and fresh, and the food was superb. Even the music seemed to meet the approval of both young and old participants. The arrival of Mike King with Beth Patterson on his arm, created just the buzz that Trixie had hoped for. Margaret Gaitley’s inclusion in their party lent a certain air of respectability to the couple that kept many an older tongue from wagging. She exchanged little more than a knowing look with Beth when they were greeted, but she carefully surveyed the room seeking Kitty Buchanan. She noted the exact moment that Kitty realized Mike and Beth were in attendance as each other’s date. Kitty had been unable to hide a reaction. Didn’t expect that, did you? Trixie thought to herself as she moved to greet the next arrivals.

When the appointed time arrived for Jim and Mike’s presentation of Frayler Academy’s pitch to the fundraiser crowd, the two men worked together in perfect harmony – the educator and psychologist complemented the math and computer expert – and they delivered a production which had never been done. Trixie had no idea that Jim had persuaded the museum to install a demonstration version of the software to exhibit key aspects of its functionality to the crowd. He was able to demonstrate how the software calculated or tracked everything from the room temperature to the number of people in each room, even the number of coats that had been checked in at the cloakroom. The presentation created a stir among the attendees, one that Trixie hoped would lead to more donations. Other than focusing on Matthew Wheeler’s reaction when the name of Jim’s school was announced, she kept her eyes moving, closely scanning the crowd and everyone who had been a suspect. Kitty Buchanan and Margaret Gaitley garnered most of her attention. Jim had weighed in on his opinion of Mike’s mother, but Trixie wasn’t ready to let it go. During the applause after the presentation, Trixie made certain that she was seen removing Jim’s flash drive from the museum’s computer. She slid it into her purse, realizing she now was keeping up with three almost identical flash drives. If anything was going to happen tonight, she was determined it was going to happen to her.

 

 

“You knew!” Dan accused her as the evening began to wind down. The older crowd had already begun to drift toward the exits, gathering their coats and wishing Jim the best of luck. More than one had promised a sizeable check would be sent for the benefit of the school. “You knew the name of Jim's school.”

She grinned. “That's why I didn't bet, it wouldn't have been fair after he told me. So what do you do with the funds now that none of you won? I mean it's not like any of you were even close!”

Dan shrugged. “We'll have to figure it out because it's never happened before.”

“You could give it as a donation to the school,” she suggested with a wicked grin. “Maybe start a fund to prevent kids from gambling or something.”

He laughed. “Maybe,” he allowed, “but say ...” he nodded toward Matthew Wheeler who was glad handing several supporters. “I'll say he was surprised. What do you think?”

“Completely surprised!” she agreed. “The look on his face was worth every single committee meeting that Diana forced me to attend!”

“So it's a success?” he asked.

“It's a success,” she agreed.

“Then you want to explain to me why you’re as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs?”

“Long tailed cat, Daniel?” She quirked a brow. “Where on earth did you get that expression?”

“Uncle Bill,” he explained. “And quit trying to change the subject. What in the hell is going on? And don't tell me nothing! I know you well enough to know when something is up. You gave us all marching orders, and so far the evening has been nothing but a success. Yet, you still act like you think something might happen. What’s up?”

“Ben,” she said finally. “Just keep an eye on Ben.”

“Ben?” he echoed, clearly surprised. “Why?”

“He's in over his head,” she explained. “And despite the fact that he promised me he’ll be careful, we’re worried.”

“We are? Who in the hell is we? Is this about you being undercover, Belden? Because I swear if you're involved in the Beckhart murder--”

She placed a hand on his arm and shook his head. “I know who killed Allison Beckhart, Dan. I don't have to be involved.”

“Yeah, who?”

“Ben's date,” she whispered.

“Kitty Buchanan!” he hissed in disbelief. “Trixie, you can’t go around accusing rich people of committing murder. Besides, I think they were like best friends or something.”

“Best friends with a common goal,” Trixie answered. “They’re both huge supporters of IRMA. Allison funnels the money and Kitty is their mole in New York society. Trust me, she’s fairly high up in the organization.”

Dan shook his head. “But why would she kill her best friend?”

“Allison was about to spill the beans to her husband and confess everything. She wanted out. Kitty couldn’t let that happen. She needed the funds Allison funneled, not to mention the technology she was looking for. There’s a chance if she had the technology she could skip town permanently.”

“Technology? What technology?” Dan asked grabbing her arm. “Dammit, Trixie! I knew you were working a case. You’ve no more left the CIB than I’ve left the NYPD. Why didn’t you tell me all this?”

“They wouldn’t let me,” she hissed, yanking her arm away. “Keep it down, we don’t want to cause a scene.”

“Fine! But explain what technology you’re talking about.”

“You saw it tonight,” she replied. “The security that’s built into Jim’s software, SMARTSchool, is revolutionary. The government wants it, IRMA wants it, the Brits want it. Oh hell, Dan! Everyone wants it.”

“And we’ve got it,” he said slowly.

“Yep, that pretty much sums it up,” she affirmed.

“Dammit, Belden. Now you’ve got me nervous!”