Part Three

Jim entered the dining room half an hour later to find his wife examining something with puzzlement written all over her face. So preoccupied was she, that she appeared not to even notice his presence. Walking softly, he crossed the room and put his arms around her waist from behind.

“Oh!” she cried, startled. “You scared me.”

Jim grinned. “Just doing my job,” he teased. “What have you got there?”

“The first page of a letter to Mart. From a girl, I think. It was on the table.”

“The plot thickens,” he replied with a smile. Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to see Honey and Dan. “Has Mart said anything to you about missing a letter?”

“No,” they replied together. Dan continued, “Should I go and ask him?”

At Jim’s nod, he turned and left. Honey and Trixie huddled together over the letter, apparently examining it for clues. He turned away, uncomfortable.

“It looks quite new,” Trixie pointed out, softly. “And by the way it reads, I’m pretty sure it’s from a girl.”

“But who?” asked Honey, keeping her voice low as well. “I didn’t think he liked being called ‘Marty.’”

“He doesn’t. And there’s something else here that’s strange. Just look at this part.”

“Whatever is a Boxing Day Test?”

A jumble of sounds alerted them to someone approaching. Trixie gently placed the letter on the table and schooled her features into an innocent mask. Beside her, Honey did the same.

“Where is it?” Mart asked irritably, stomping into the room with Dan and Brian trailing behind. He caught sight of the letter and snatched at it. His expression changed almost imperceptibly. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“That’s all there was,” Jim told him. “Maybe it wasn’t taken.”

Mart turned on his heel and left, leaving a bewildered group behind him. Trixie turned to Dan inquiringly.

“I don’t know.” He answered the question before she put it into words. “I asked, but he didn’t want to tell me.”

“What about you?” she asked, turning on her eldest brother. “Do you know?”

He hesitated. “I have an idea,” he replied finally. “A guess. Nothing more than that.”

Within half an hour, the group had settled down to an uneasy breakfast. Conversation lagged under the strain that they were all feeling from the current events. As the meal drew to a close, Di voiced the thoughts of at least half the group.

“At least nothing else is missing this morning,” she pointed out, trying to look on the bright side.

Honey, Dan and Jim exchanged glances. “Actually,” Honey revealed, “I’m missing something this morning.” Her voice trailed away into little more than a whisper. “A ring. I’d appreciate it if you’d all help me look for it.”

Trixie studied her best friend’s face carefully, knowing instinctively that there was more to this than met the eye. She silently determined to get it out of her at the first available opportunity.

“I think we should all check for things that might be missing, too,” Jim added. “There’s no telling what might have been taken that we haven’t noticed yet.”

Everyone agreed to both of these ideas and, after some discussion, decided to divide into pairs. Jim drew a rough plan of the house and assigned the rooms to the searchers.

“If no one minds,” he suggested, “I think it would be better for people who share a room to not be paired with each other.”

“And if you find something, or notice something else missing,” Trixie added, “you’d better whistle so that everyone knows that there’s a change. Then, one person from each pair can stay where they are, and the other go and get the information.”

“What are all the things we’re looking for again?” Di asked. “Honey’s ring, my chain and ring, Dan’s photo… Anything else?”

There was a pause while they all thought. “And anything that’s out of place, missing or just seems wrong, I guess,” Jim added. “So, are we all ready?”

There was a murmur of agreement and the group scattered. The whole house was soon being turned upside down by the searchers. Hardly ten minutes went by before the first whistle. It turned out to be Jim’s. He and Brian had begun by searching the library. Soon, Trixie, Honey and Dan had gathered from various directions.

“I can’t find the book I was reading,” Jim told them, briefly. “It was here late yesterday but we’ve been right over the room and it’s not here now.”

“Okay,” Honey replied. “Just tell us the title and the author and we’ll keep an eye out for it.”

“You’re the author,” he informed her, with a smile. “Your latest one, which I haven’t finished reading yet, with a personal inscription at the front.”

“And you can keep your ‘newlyweds’ joke to yourself,” Trixie told her, sternly. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some searching to do.” The rest of them laughed at Trixie’s mock theatrics before going their separate ways.

Just as most of the group were preparing to end the search, Dan and Mart finished up in the living room. They were tired and discouraged by the result. They had neither found any of the missing objects nor discovered anything else missing.

Dan dropped down on the sofa, let his neck roll back and squeezed his eyes shut. “Next reunion, let’s hold it in a one room shack in the middle of the preserve. I don’t ever want to search this house ever again.” He opened his eyes slowly and found himself looking up at the frosted glass of the light fitting. A moment later he sat up straight.

“What?” asked Mart, seeing his intent look. He followed his friend’s gaze and saw it too: a dark shape silhouetted against the light. With hardly a thought, he let out a shrill Bob-White! Bob-White!

There was the sound of hurrying feet and in a few moments the whole group was assembled. Di let out a happy cry to see her chain and ring, but wondered aloud how she would ever get them down again. Jim went to fetch a ladder and soon she was fastening the chain once more around her neck.

“And I won’t take it off again,” she announced firmly, to no one in particular. “Whoever it is can’t have this again.”

While the attention was still on Di, Trixie took a moment to talk to Mart. She had been thinking about the letter and wondering if it might have some particular relevance to the perpetrator of all of the disappearances.

“Can we have a word?” she whispered. Mart looked resigned, and followed her obediently.

“The letter, this morning,” she asked, when they were out of earshot, “does it have anything to do with the other matter we discussed?”

“No,” he replied, then reconsidered. “There were a few words in common,” he admitted. “Purely coincidental, but there’s that connection. ‘By the time you get this, it’ll be too late to do anything about it.’”

“Thanks.” Absently, she let him go.

Unheeding of her surroundings, she wandered through the house, deep in thought. She was beginning to feel that the solution to their problem was there in front of her, if only she could sort out the relevant facts from the myriad of other secrets and stray bits of information.

She ran through the list of things which had disappeared: Honey’s organiser, Brian’s keys, her own diary, Ginnie’s watch, Dan’s photograph, Di’s chain and ring, Honey’s ring, Mart’s letter and Jim’s book. So many of the things were related, somehow, to Honey. Could it be a coincidence? Or, could the rest of the items just be camouflage for the culprit’s real intent?

A sudden image came to Trixie’s mind. She saw herself, talking to a security man. Have you seen it, Mr.… Parker? In an instant, the image was matched with an incident from a long time ago: Dan’s voice saying, “He said he wanted to speak to Madeleine Parker.”

She stopped to think about it. Parker is a common name, she told herself, and, obviously, it couldn’t be the same man or she’d recognise him. But is there a link here? She decided quickly that she would have to ask Honey. After a short search, she found her friend in the library with Dan.

“Can I talk to you alone?” she asked, not even thinking about how that would sound. “There’s something I need to ask you.”

With a knowing smile, Dan left the room, closing the door behind him. Trixie looked carefully around the room to make sure they were alone and that no one could overhear. She studied Honey’s face for a long moment, startled by the apprehension she saw there, but trying not to reveal her surprise.

“You’re going to ask me about the ring, aren’t you?” Honey’s voice was soft and filled with suppressed emotion. “I don’t want to tell you. I don’t want you to know what I did.”

“I think I can guess,” Trixie replied. Honey buried her face in her hands. “That year when you went away, you met someone. His surname was Parker, wasn’t it?”

Honey looked up in surprise. “How did you know?” she whispered, hoarsely. “Did Jim tell you?”

“Jim wouldn’t tell me anything about it. You asked him not to, didn’t you?” Honey nodded. “And you know that you can rely on Jim to keep a promise.”

Honey giggled nervously. “Yes, Mrs. Frayne.” As suddenly as they had started, her giggles subsided. “So, it was Dan?”

Trixie nodded. “He asked my advice and I asked Jim,” she explained, feeling guilty. “I didn’t know what to tell him. I didn’t want to push you away from me, but Dan was so–”

“Hurt,” Honey finished. “I know I hurt him. I don’t know why he stays with me sometimes.”

“He loves you, silly,” Trixie replied, gently. “And he knows that you love him. And the two of you should get married, so that he can be my brother-in-law,” she added, cheekily. Before Honey could object, she continued, “But that doesn’t answer the real question. I know this is probably just a coincidence, but did you know that one of the security men is called Parker?”

“I – I guess so,” her sister-in-law replied. “I hadn’t really noticed.”

“Is there any chance that he’s related?” Trixie persisted. “Could he be a brother or a cousin or something? Do you know any of his relatives?”

“I don’t know,” Honey cried, suddenly very upset. “I don’t know. How could I know?”

“Can you look at him and try to see if there’s a resemblance?” Trixie asked, her voice soft. “It could be important. If I’m right, he could have a grudge against you that he wants to settle.” Her face turned away, Honey nodded. “And one more thing,” Trixie added, her hand on the doorknob. “You can tell us anything, Honey. We’ll all love you anyway.” At that, she opened the door and left.

Honey was left rather shaken by the conversation with Trixie. Indecision seized her and she turned to the only person with whom she could discuss the matter: Dan. She found him waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs and ushered him into the library.

“Are you okay?” he asked, looking down into her face.

In the next instant, she buried her face against his chest and he felt her body shake as she began to sob. His arms encircled her and he supported her as she slumped against him, seemingly unable to hold herself up. He guided her gently to a chair and she let go long enough to push him into it and settle on his lap. Long minutes later, her sobbing tapered to an end and left her clinging to Dan.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffed, dabbing at her wet face with a handkerchief. “It’s just that Trixie asked me…” The tears started to flow again and she paused, trying to get the emotion under control. “I don’t want them all to know what I did, but now…”

“It’s only a matter of time before someone guesses,” Dan finished for her. “Does Trixie think he has something to do with this?”

Honey nodded. “I can’t see how he could,” she mused, softly. “But I’m going to trust her. I’m going to tell everyone what happened.”

Dan pulled her closer. “I’ll be here for you,” he promised. “For anything you need.”

Ten minutes later, the group assembled in the library at Dan’s request. As the doors closed behind them, Honey stood nervously next to the fireplace. They all settled in a rough semicircle around her and waited for her to speak. Dan sat next to the door, half turned away.

“I owe you all an explanation,” Honey told them softly, her eyes lowered. “I did some things that I’m not proud of and, because of that, I kept them a secret. I think it might be time to rectify that. It all relates to the year that I spent away from you all, right after I finished high school.”

A cool breeze ruffled Honey’s short hair as she drove away from Sleepyside. Summer was not yet over but she felt so stifled that leaving had seemed like the best alternative. Behind her, bewildered friends and family wondered what had gone wrong. And ahead of her? Honey did not know where she was going or what she would do.

I just need some time away, she told herself, uncertainly. I’ll come back sometime. I just need to be by myself for a while.

Hours later she decided to stop for the night. She pulled off the highway into a small town and looked around for somewhere to stay. The budget did not stretch as far as paying for accommodation – she had barely enough to buy food for the next few weeks – so she found a quiet spot to park the car and settled down for the night.

The next morning dawned bright and clear. The day promised to be hot, as Honey breakfasted on leftovers she had taken from the Manor House kitchen. She got back on the highway and started looking for a good place to live for the next few months.

By the end of the day she thought she had found it: the small coastal town of Rocky Point. A small, hand-lettered sign in the window of the general store attracted her attention.

‘Caretaker required,’ it read. ‘Year round, light duties. Apply within.’

Taking a deep breath, Honey pushed open the squeaky door and stepped inside. The interior was dim and cluttered, reminding her strongly of Mr. Lytell’s store at home. For a terrible moment Honey thought that she might run straight back to Sleepyside without even staying one night, but the feeling quickly passed.

“Can I help you, miss?” an elderly man asked, coming out from a back room.

Honey smiled. “I saw the sign in the window,” she said, politely. “Could you tell me more about the caretaker’s position?”

The old man’s eyebrows rose. “Now, what would a girl like you be wanting with that sort of job?” he asked, almost to himself. “Well, I guess I could tell you about it anyway.” Honey waited patiently. “You see, there’s a little cottage outside of town, up on the cliffs,” he explained. “Needs someone to keep it clean and tend to the garden a bit.”

“That sounds like something I could do,” Honey said, positively. “May I see it?”

“Now, it doesn’t pay much,” the man warned. “And you’d have to live in.”

“That’s fine,” she replied. “I’d need somewhere to live if I stayed here anyway.”

“And there’s no telephones or electricity up there,” he added, firmly. “No other houses nearby. And in foul weather, there’s no way in or out. The road’s too steep and it’s not sealed.”

“I can deal with all of that,” Honey told him, smiling sweetly.

He sighed. “Let me close up the store,” he asked. “Name’s Abe Carter, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” she replied. “I’m Madeleine Wheeler.”

An hour later, Honey had taken the job. The keys of the cottage were in her hand as she stood on the threshold. She looked around with a sigh. The building was tiny: just one main room with a kitchen and bathroom downstairs and a loft bedroom above. Perched, as it was, near the top of the cliffs, the view was spectacular, but the house was neglected and isolated.

She opened the door and stepped into the dim and dusty interior. By the looks of things, the caretaker’s position had been vacant for quite some time. When he had shown her around, Abe had left open one of the windows and a gentle breeze blew in, bringing with it the scent of the ocean.

I guess I should bring everything in, Honey thought, setting down a small pile of belongings on a dusty table. Then, maybe, I could clean it up a little.

It only took a few minutes to bring in the things she had brought with her from Sleepyside. Her flight had been so ill-planned and sudden that she had not given any real thought to what she would need when she arrived somewhere. The house looked forlorn and empty, uncared for and forgotten. With a deep sigh, Honey began to clean.

Weeks passed. Honey had budgeted every cent to afford all of the things she needed to live comfortably in the cottage and now she was well settled in. It was a sunny day, with a stiff breeze blowing off the ocean. The work around the house was done and Honey was feeling restless.

What can I do? she wondered. I need something to occupy my mind. She toyed with a strand of hair, grown a little longer than it had been for the last couple of years. Maybe I could write my thoughts in a journal.

Bounding up the stairs to the loft, she quickly found a notebook and pen, then went outside and sat near the edge of the cliff. The wind ruffled the pages a little, before she settled back into the shelter of a large boulder. With the Atlantic stretching out before her, the bright sun shining down and the wind rustling the leaves of a nearby bush, Honey put pen to paper and started to write.

Summer faded and the weather turned colder. September came and went, as did October. Honey began to wonder whether she really wanted to live year-round in this isolated cottage, miles from anything. For the first time since she arrived, she started to think about the time when she would leave here.

I’ll just put in an application or two, she thought, toying with the idea of college. I don’t have to accept. She did that and put it out of her mind.

Strong winds rattled the windows and Honey spent the long evenings writing in front of the fire. At first, she had just jotted down the random thoughts that came to mind as she sat watching the water. Over time, she had turned to the stories of the Bob-Whites. To begin with, she had written accounts of their adventures as they had happened but, somehow, that did not satisfy her.

I wonder what would happen if we had one of our adventures now? she thought idly, as the sparks blew up into the chimney. What would it have been like to do those things as an adult? A gentle smile crossed her face, as once again, she started to write.

Honey blew out a steamy cloud of breath as she pushed open the door to Abe Carter’s store. A chilly January wind rushed in behind her, rustling through the merchandise before she firmly shut it out.

“Morning, Abe,” she called, as the older man shuffled out from the back room. “How are things in town?”

“Fairly quiet,” he replied. “Not too many people want to visit in this weather.”

Honey smiled. “I was beginning to wonder if the road would ever be good enough for me to get down here.” She set her list down on the counter. “I’ll need to stock up again, just in case.”

“Let me help you with that,” he offered, kindly. He read through the list and started piling groceries on the counter.

A few minutes later, Honey looked up from selecting some sugar to see a handsome, but unfamiliar, man entering the store. His dark hair was ruffled by the wind and he held himself as if he were too cold. Abe greeted him politely.

“My car’s broken down along the road a little way,” the strange man explained. “I was wondering if there was someone near here that I could get to fix it.”

Abe pointed to the telephone in the corner. “Number’s up on the wall,” he added, helpfully. “And tell him that you’ll wait for him here.”

“Thank you,” the man said and went to make his call.

Honey finished her shopping and waited as Abe added up the total and packed everything into boxes for her. Her eyes strayed to the man in the corner. He was certainly very attractive, with his dark hair and eyes and his air of quiet competence. She wondered what he was doing in Rocky Point in the middle of winter.

Her attention was sharply brought back to the task at hand when Abe hefted one of the boxes and started off towards Honey’s car. The man with the broken-down car was soon forgotten as she went back to the problem of making an existence in the isolated cottage up on the cliffs.

A week later, the weather finally cleared enough for Honey to be able to do anything outside. She spent that first clear, still day working in the yard, clearing up the debris left by weeks of high winds and driving rain. When the job was finally done to her satisfaction, she was just about to head back inside when someone called out to her.

“Hello there!” he called. She looked up to see the man who had been in Abe’s store the week before. “I thought I’d be neighbourly and come to see you.”

“That’s very nice of you,” she replied, with a smile, “but where are you living? There’s no other house close enough to walk from that I know of.”

He smiled. “It was quite a hike, actually,” he confessed. “I like to walk.” He looked back over his shoulder. “I don’t think you can see it from here, but I’m staying in the house at the bottom of this road.”

That’s a long, steep walk, Honey thought. He’s not at all out of breath. He must be very fit. Aloud, she told him, “Well, it’s nice to have a visitor for once. I’m Madeleine Wheeler.”

“Pleased to meet you,” he replied. “I’m Michael Parker.”

He’s so… Honey tried to find the word as she murmured the conventional phrases. It came to her in a start. He rather reminds me of Brian. “If you don’t mind my asking,” she wondered, “what do you do for a living? It’s just that you remind me of a friend of mine, who’s a medical student.”

“What a strange coincidence,” her new acquaintance replied. “I’m a doctor. I work in a big hospital about an hour from here. In fact, I was considering moving out here and commuting. Get away from some of the stress.”

“It’s a lovely little community,” she told him, “and it’s beautiful when the weather is good.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” he replied, smiling softly. “I’ll let you get inside now. Nice to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise.” Honey returned the smile. She watched him walk away, thinking about just how much she had enjoyed their little chat.

Over the next few weeks, Honey came to know Michael a lot better. They seemed to meet often, considering the fact that, until that time, Honey had rarely seen anyone else anywhere near the cottage. Within a week of their first conversation, he had taken her on a date. By the time that February came around they had been on several dates and were spending time together every day.

“I feel like I’ve known you for years,” Michael disclosed, one blustery afternoon while curled up together in front of the fire in Honey’s cottage. “It’s like we’re just meant to be together.”

Honey smiled and looked up into his eyes. “I feel it too,” she admitted, softly.

“Madeleine,” he whispered. “Come away with me this weekend.” His hand stroked her cheek. “I know a place where we can get married, then we can come back here to live.”

“We can’t-” Honey began. Her face felt flushed and she suddenly couldn’t quite breathe. “Yes,” she breathed. “Why not?”

Michael laughed happily. “We’re going to get married!” He said the words almost as if he did not believe they could possibly be true.

A few days later, Honey returned to the cottage as Madeleine Parker. Now that she was back, the whole episode seemed somehow unreal. If it wasn’t for the ring on her finger, she could have thought that she had dreamt it.

The other thing which made the marriage real was Michael’s presence in her house. But that was not to last. Only a week after the wedding, he told her reluctantly that he would be going back to work the next day.

“I may not be home tomorrow night,” he added. “I’ll have a lot to do and it may be too late to make the trip home.”

“But, Michael,” Honey asked, in dismay, “can’t you put some of it off for a day so that we can be together?”

“I’m sorry, honey, but it doesn’t work that way.”

“Don’t,” she told him, turning away. “Don’t call me ‘Honey.’”

He nodded absently and a distance formed between them.

Over the next four months, the relationship had more bad times than good ones. When Michael was at home for any length of time Honey was happy and content, ready to believe that they could make this work. When he was away, which became the norm, she wished that she had never agreed to marry him.

In the second week of June, Michael walked out the door one morning and did not return. Days later, a letter arrived from him, saying that he was attending a conference out of state and would be away for a couple of weeks. Honey read it in utter disbelief.

What does he think he’s doing? she wondered. How could he go away for weeks without telling me beforehand? Does he even care what I think? She turned to her writing and found comfort.

Then, one day, a letter arrived for her: an acceptance letter from a college she had applied to. Making careful note of the date by which she needed to make her decision, Honey hid it carefully away. It would make a good contingency plan if things did not work out with Michael, but for now she was still unwilling to contemplate that.

At the beginning of July, with a cooling breeze blowing onshore and the brilliant sun shining down, Michael walked back into the house as if nothing was wrong.

“Hello, Madeleine,” he greeted. “I’ve finally gotten away. I’ve missed you.” He leaned to kiss her, but she avoided him.

“It’s been three weeks,” she pointed out, coolly. “How dare you leave me like that, without even saying that you’re going? You have a nerve coming back. Why didn’t you just stay away?”

For a few moments, he said nothing and simply looked surprised. “I had no idea you felt that way. I’m sorry, my darling. Please forgive me. It won’t happen again.”

There was a quiet sincerity about his words which had Honey doubting her feelings once again. All at once, she wasn’t so sure of her position and she did the only thing which felt right: she gave in.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you.” Stretching up, she gave him a concilliatory kiss. “Welcome home.”

“That’s more like it,” he said, softly. “Now, come with me. We have a lot of time to make up for.”

The following morning, when he had left once more for work, Honey did a little bit of investigating for herself. Michael had left his suitcase in his car when he arrived home, so she had made a point of removing it when he was otherwise occupied. As soon as he was safely out of the way, she opened it.

He’s a dreadfully messy packer, she mused, as she delicately removed item after item. At least I won’t have to worry about being neat if I decide to put it all back. For a while, everything seemed harmless and fairly ordinary. But, what’s this? Honey pulled out a small, black book. Opening it at the front, she read, ‘Christine (nee Johnson), born April 24, 1968. Married on her birthday. Likes dogs, art…’ The list went on, ending with ‘My occupation: currency trader.’

The next page gave information on Samantha and the one after on Heather. Turning the page, Honey’s mouth dropped open. ‘Madeleine (nee Wheeler), born August 18, 1972…’ The last line said, ‘My occupation: doctor.’

“He–” she stammered, aloud. “How could I be so stupid?”

In the next moment, she knew what she had to do. Michael’s belongings went higgledy-piggledy back into his suitcase, which she set against the wall. Then, she started loading her own belongings into her car. It did not take long. Last of all, she took the college acceptance letter she had received – and not mentioned to Michael – out of its hiding place, fingering it thoughtfully before slipping it into her handbag.

The action brought her left hand clearly into view. For a few long moments, she stared at the ring on her finger. Should she leave it here? No, she decided, finally. It will remind me never to do this again. Pulling it off, she dropped it into her pocket.

She locked the cottage, taking one final look at the beautiful view. It was a glorious day; not the kind of day for leaving. Honey wrenched her eyes away, got in her car and drove for the last time down the steep, winding road that led to the town.

Her last act in Rocky Point was to stop at Abe’s store. She paused at the door, staring at the place where the little sign had been. Soon, there would probably be another sign there. She sighed deeply and pushed open the door. She would certainly miss this place.

Abe was there, waiting at the counter. He seemed a little surprised to see her and, perhaps, concerned.

“I’m sorry, Abe.” Unbidden, her eyes starting to fill with tears. “I – well, I have to leave right away. I don’t think I’ll be back.”

“Well, now, that’s a real shame,” the old man replied. “I hope you’ll drop by for a visit sometime.” He looked at her carefully. “Is everything all right?”

“I think it will be,” she said, with a little sniff. “Right now, though, I’ve got to go back home.” She set down the key on the counter. “I’ve left all of Michael’s things there. I suppose he’ll be back to collect them.”

Abe nodded slowly. “You take care, now,” he told her.

“Thanks, Abe,” Honey replied. “You take care of yourself, too.”

With that, she slipped out into the bright sunshine and got into her car. As Rocky Point disappeared behind her, Honey thought, Goodbye, Michael. I’ll find a new place to live, change my hair and my clothes and you’ll never find me. A moment later, she added, And I’ll never make this mistake again.

The room was utterly still. Few of those present had any idea that something like that could have happened. The only one who had known the whole story was Dan. He sat alone near the door, still half turned away. No one met his eyes.

“And that’s the ring we were looking for?” Di asked, finally breaking the silence. “Is it all to do with him?”

Trixie looked at her sharply. “We don’t know that,” she warned. “It may have nothing to do with him, but we have to look at all the possibilities.” She pulled herself slightly straighter. “If anyone else has a secret which might bear on this, they should come and talk to me about it.”

“So that’s all we’re doing about this?” Brian asked, a mutinous note in his voice. “You’re just collecting secrets.”

“No,” she replied, slowly. “But that’s all I’m prepared to say about it. I think the less said about the investigation, the better.” With a look she tried to convey the idea that they may be overheard, but was not sure that she had succeeded.

“Is there anything else we can do?” Di asked, looking at Trixie.

“Keep an eye on each other,” she suggested. “Don’t leave anyone alone, and if you’ve got any valuables, I think we should move them out of here – either to Crabapple Farm or to Rose Cottage.”

“Well, that sounds like a good idea,” Brian said. “Why don’t we all go and do that now? I don’t know why we didn’t think of it before.”

There was an uneasy murmur of agreement as the meeting broke up. With a gesture, Trixie asked Jim to look after his sister. Slowly the room emptied until there was only herself and Dan. She closed the door and went to him then, touching his shoulder gently. Throughout the whole proceedings he had not moved.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly.

His breath came out in a sigh. “Not really,” he replied. “I mean, I knew all that but it’s just… more real, I guess, when she tells it like that. Makes me wonder if I’m wasting my time.”

Trixie pulled up a chair and sat down next to him. “I don’t think you are.” Instantly, she was aware of a change in Dan. He seemed, somehow, more vulnerable. “I think if you’re patient, you’ll be rewarded for it.”

“But will she ever get over this?” he asked, his voice soft, but filled with emotion. “Especially if he’s behind all of the strange things that have been happening here.”

“It might help her,” Trixie mused. “She might have to face some things that she hasn’t dealt with yet.”

“Or it might make things worse,” he contradicted, dismally. “I don’t want to just be the live-in lover forever, but that’s how things are shaping up.” He slammed his fist down against his thigh. “I don’t know who has the lousier timing – him or me.”

“Him, definitely,” she replied, patting him on the back. “Remember, he lost her. And she wants to keep you. I can just tell.”

“Well, Miss Fortune Teller,” he demanded, “if you’re so smart, tell me what I have to do to make things right for her. How do I protect her from this?”

“I don’t know,” Trixie whispered. “I wish I could tell you.” She stood and walked over to the window. “I think you’ll just have to be there for her when the time comes.”

“You mean, you think he really is behind it, don’t you,” he asked, as he watched her pull back the drapes. She froze suddenly and he asked, “What is it?”

Trixie stepped back, holding the curtain out of the way and Dan saw what had startled her: his missing picture. In one motion, he lunged towards it, but Trixie stepped into the way.

“Don’t touch it,” she cautioned. “There might be evidence on it that we could preserve, in case we need it.”

“But, is it okay?” he asked, looking anxious. “It’s not damaged at all, is it?”

“Doesn’t look to be,” she replied, examining it as best she could without touching. “Seems just fine. But, how can we make sure that no one and nothing touches it?”

“I’ll get Honey,” he decided, and strode to the door.

He returned with her, minutes later, carrying a clean plastic bag from the kitchen and a piece of chalk. After a short discussion, they marked the spot with the chalk and carefully transferred the photograph to the bag.

“I’ve got somewhere to put it,” Honey mentioned, mouthing the word ‘safe.’ “If the two of you will watch me, to make sure that no one is observing us, I’ll put it there, now.”

Trixie and Dan made a careful search of the surrounding area to make sure that nobody observed them, before going into Honey’s father’s study. She drew a key from around her neck and the other two turned away as she entered the combination. The door clanged shut, and they went back outside, once again checking to see that they were not watched. Everything seemed just as it should be.

“Well, I’m glad that’s dealt with,” Honey announced with a sigh, “but I’m not sure I like how this is going.”

“You and me, both,” Dan agreed, squeezing her hand.

At that moment, Brian approached them, looking serious. He said, “I think you’d better come and see this. I think we’ve found Jim’s book.”

The three followed him to one of the windows, which opened onto the front verandah. When he pulled the drapes aside, the novel could be seen, sitting innocently on the porch swing.

“Jim says that he’s positive he didn’t have it outside,” Brian explained. “And since the house is supposed to be locked down at the moment, and Dan’s initials are still on all of the doors–”

“–the perpetrator must have a way in and out without our knowledge,” completed Trixie.

Dan cursed, under his breath.

“He could use a window,” Jim mused. “He might have even thrown the book from here, I guess, though I doubt it would land where he wanted.”

“We can’t seal every ground floor window in the house,” Dan pointed out. “And we can’t search every possible hiding place. He’s got the advantage over us and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“That’s not true,” Trixie contradicted, with a frown. “There’s eight of us, and only one of him. Sooner or later, we’ll catch him.”

“I just hope it’s sooner,” said Jim.

The group passed a quiet evening, since most of them were feeling rather tired. By unspoken agreement, they all went up to bed fairly early. They were each in their own rooms when Brian discovered the latest act of their antagonist. He left his room and walked along the corridor to knock on another door.

“My wallet’s gone,” he told his sister, when she answered. “I left it in my room while we were downstairs, but now it’s gone.”

“I don’t know why you didn’t leave it with Moms for safekeeping,” Trixie muttered in annoyance.

“If I’d known that this was going to happen, I would have,” he replied, equally annoyed. “I didn’t think it was that important.”

“I don’t see what I can do about it now,” she grumbled. “Go to bed. We’ll look for it in the morning.”

With that, she closed the door and Brian was obliged to follow her advice. Half an hour later, the house was quiet and dark. Soon, everyone was asleep.

The stillness of the night was broken by an almighty crash. Trixie awoke with a start. Bleary-eyed, she noticed that the digital clock read 2:03. Beside her, Jim stirred.

“What was that?” he asked sleepily. “Did you hear something?”

“I’m going to find out,” she replied, hopping out of bed.

Quickly, she found something warm to put on and slid her feet into slippers. By the time that Jim was out of bed she was already heading out the door.

“Wait for me,” he demanded, sharply. “You don’t know who’s out there.”

“Hurry up.” She hopped from one foot to the other in impatience. “They’re probably getting away.”

In a few moments Jim was ready, and together they started towards the stairs. All along the corridor, doors were opening and sleepy faces were peeking out. Everyone started talking at once.

“What was that?”

“Where did that noise come from?”

“It’s so cold out here.”

“Can you see anything?”

“Why don’t the lights work?”

Trixie started down the stairs, everyone else trailing behind her. Halfway down, she stopped short.

“Can you see that?” she asked Jim, who was right behind her. “Is someone there?”

Jim stood very still for a moment. “Stay here,” he said finally. “I’m going to take a look.”

He took a few steps forward, then switched on the flashlight he had been holding behind himself and shone it around. There was no one in sight. There was, however, a terrible mess.

“Oh, no!” cried Honey, taking in the destruction. “Mother will be beside herself when she sees this! That was one of her favourite tables and it’s ruined. And that broken vase was a wedding present, I think.”

“I’m more concerned about the photograph,” Jim contradicted, his voice grim. “That sort of vandalism is evidence of a very disturbed mind.”

“I didn’t see that,” she replied, barely above a whisper. She walked slowly towards the ruined picture of herself, mouth dropping open in horror at what she saw. Jagged cuts ran down the length, but were especially vicious on her face. “I don’t think there’s any question, now, of who is the target of the attacks.”

“And we’ll do everything we can to protect you,” promised Trixie. She took her friend by the arm and starting pulling her upstairs. “First things first. We’ll go into one of the rooms and make some plans.”

She hustled them all upstairs and into her own room, having judged that Honey’s room might hold an unknown danger. The door was shut and Brian sat leaning against it.

“First of all,” Trixie asked, in quiet but clear tones, “if anyone is still keeping a secret which could in any way bear upon the case, they need to speak up, now.”

There was an uneasy silence. Some of those present took furtive looks around the room, while others averted their faces, or stared at their feet. No one spoke.

“No more relevant secrets?” Trixie asked. Again, no response. “Then, I think we need a plan of action. Does everyone agree?”

“I think we need to involve the authorities,” Brian asserted. “It’s too dangerous to do anything else.”

“How?” asked Honey. “My phone was dead when I tried it just before. There’s so much snow outside, and it’s so dark and cold and windy that I doubt we could reach help, if we tried to do it on foot. There’s no help to be had, and a storm blowing up as we speak. We need to deal with this and we need to do it now.”

Brian’s eyes turned to the window, wanting to contradict her, but unable to find any flaw in her reasoning. He bowed his head and waited.

“I do agree with you,” his sister assured him, “but, Honey’s right, too. We need to deal with this now, not wait hours until we can contact someone to come and help us. We need a plan, and I’ve got an idea of what we could do.

“We’ll need to move downstairs, to one of the rooms that has more than one entrance. We’ll pretend that we’re all staying together but, actually, there’ll be someone hiding in each of the adjoining rooms. He’s never been able to resist coming near us before, so we’ll be sure to catch him.”

There was a long silence. No one seemed willing to speak, either for or against Trixie’s plan. Finally, Brian spoke up.

“I can’t see any of us getting much more sleep tonight,” he mused, “so, I guess, we might as well try it.”

There was a collective sigh of relief, and a short discussion as to which room was the most suitable and who would be on guard. They chose the family room as most comfortable, and since it had doors to both the library and the hallway. The latter was opposite the door to Matthew Wheeler’s study.

A short time later, everyone except for Jim and Dan had settled in the family room to wait. Jim was wrapped in a blanket, huddled in a corner of the library, while Dan waited and watched from the study. Once again, silence settled on the house.

“He’s not falling for it, Trix,” Honey mourned. “Maybe he heard us, or maybe he figured it out for himself, but this isn’t going to work.”

“Well, there’s one thing we know for sure right now,” she replied, “and that’s the fact that he’s in here somewhere and he can’t get out, any more than we can. The wind’s absolutely whipping around outside.”

“But how does that help us?” demanded her friend. “Even if we do catch him, where does that get us?”

“Would you rather he keep playing these tricks on us?”

“I’d rather he gave my ring back, and whatever else is still missing, and left us alone,” she muttered.

Before Trixie could respond, Jim appeared in the doorway, a worried look on his face. “I think you’d better see this,” he told them.

Both women jumped up to follow him, as he led the way to the library fireplace. There had not been a fire in it since they had arrived, since they had not been using this room. Someone had brought ashes from elsewhere and heaped them in the hearth. Right in the middle of the pile, atop a charred piece of wood, was a plain, gold ring.

“I just noticed this,” added Jim, in explanation. “It must have been like this since before we got down here. I doubt he’s going to try anything else tonight, considering.”

“I think you’re right,” agreed his wife. “Which means, we need to think of another way to catch him.”

“I don’t want to catch him,” Honey cried, suddenly and violently. “I don’t want anything more to do with him. As soon as the storm is over, I’m leaving, if I have to do it on foot, and I’m not going to think about him again. He’s done enough damage already.”

“Honey,” crooned Jim, in soothing tones, “it’s okay, really.”

“No, it’s not,” she contradicted. “I hate him and I don’t want to ever see him again. He ruined my life and I’ll never forgive him for it.”

“You will see me again, and I’ll make you love me,” whispered a voice, behind them.

The three whipped around to see who had spoken. Jim’s eyes widened, as he saw a strange man in the room with them. He lunged, almost catching the man’s arm, but he dodged out of the way. In an instant, the man was throwing a punch. Jim evaded it, and yelled, “He’s here!”

From two different directions, footsteps sounded. Jim threw a punch and it caught the man on the chest, knocking him backwards. He stumbled, and a side table crashed to the ground. Regaining his balance, he made for the door, only to encounter Dan.

“Is this him?” he asked, in a furious voice. “Honey?”

“Yes,” she cried.

Dan grabbed the man by the neck. Fingers scrabbled and eyes bulged as he fought for breath.

“Stop it,” Jim insisted, grabbing the man’s arms. “We want him alive.”

“I don’t,” said Dan.

“You want to be charged with murder?” asked Jim.

Dan released his hold of the man’s throat, taking hold of an arm instead. He started looking around for something to tie the man up with, but there was nothing promising in sight. The man gasped for breath and seemed to go limp.

Suddenly, he was fighting them both off. Caught off guard, Dan had not been able to hold the arm that he had been grasping. The man punched him in the face. The world went black for a moment, and when it reappeared, Jim was back in control.

“Here’s some rope,” Brian called, appearing suddenly.

“Finally,” sighed Jim. “I don’t know why we didn’t think of that before.”

Between them, they managed to drag the man to a hard, wooden chair and sit him in it. Still, he was struggling as hard as he could. As they brought the rope around his wrists, he made a violent move. Something dropped from his pocket and landed on Jim’s foot.

“Hey!” said Brian. “I think that’s my wallet.”

“This is no time to think of that,” Dan objected, as Honey came closer. “And, do you think we could have a little space? This is hard work.”

“Step back, Honey,” Jim directed, the muscles in his arms bulging as he strained to keep hold of the other man. “Leave this to us.”

“No, I need to be here,” she insisted. “There are things that I need to say.”

“At least wait until we’ve got him securely restrained,” her brother pleaded.

She nodded, took a step back, and waited until they were satisfied that their captive could not get away.

“I think that’s done it,” Mart decided, testing the last knot. “But I’m staying close, anyway, just in case.”

“I’m fine,” snapped Honey, in a stronger voice than Mart could ever recall her using. “I don’t need a body guard.”

“Please, Honey,” Jim asked, “we don’t want you hurt, and I, for one, don’t have a huge amount of experience in tying people up. Please, let us help you.”

“I don’t want you to hear what I’m saying to him,” she hissed. “The least you can do is for you and Dan to wait outside.”

Jim nodded and took hold of Dan’s arm. The other man looked reluctant in the extreme and it took some whispered encouragement from Jim before he would leave. With a look, Trixie encouraged the rest of them to follow, leaving Honey and the Belden brothers alone with the prisoner.

“Michael,” she said, in a soft, sweet voice. “I have a few things to say to you. Maybe I should’ve waited around and said them to you, way back when.”

“You shouldn’t have left me like that,” he replied, with obvious anger. “You were my wife and I cared for you. You had no right to abandon me.”

“You had no right to marry me, when you already had I don’t know how many other wives. You lied to me. You cheated on me. You pretended to be someone you’re not. I don’t owe you anything.” Her voice remained soft, though the strong emotions showed on her face. “There’s one good thing about this whole fiasco,” she continued, “and that’s the fact that you’ll have to co-operate with me over the action to declare the nullity of the marriage. I’ll finally be free of you in the legal sense, as well as every other one.”

“You’ll never be truly rid of me, Madeleine,” he promised, looking at her with pleading eyes. “We belong together. You’re my wife.”

“No,” she told him, “I’m not. Good-bye, Michael. I’ll see you in court.”

As she walked away, he called her name again, but she did not look back. The door closed on his pleas and she leaned against it, tears trickling down her face. She pressed her lips together and stared at the ceiling for a little while, trying to regain her composure. A short distance away, the rest of the group waited.

Honey pulled herself up and slowly walked towards them. She could see a range of emotions displayed, from the quiet relief on Di’s face, to the concern on Jim’s. In the midst of them, his back turned, Dan leant with one large hand against the wall. His posture suggested a great deal of tension and she could see that the muscles of his shoulders were taut.

“Dan?” she asked, reaching a tentative hand to touch his back.

The vulnerable look he gave her, peeking over his shoulder, almost made her start crying again. The hand that rested against the wall dropped, and he slowly turned to face her. A door closed softly, somewhere in the background, but they hardly noticed. She slid her arms around his waist, pressing her face against his chest, and let the tears fall. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her all the comfort he could give.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m just so sorry.”

“Shh,” soothed Dan, gently rubbing her back. “It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

A slight sound caught his attention and he glanced in the direction from which it had come. There was a hint of movement and another little sound. Dan continued to murmur to Honey, making sure to keep his stance natural. He started a slight rocking motion, so that he could reposition them somewhat, leaving his right arm free.

There was a rush of movement, and a man appeared, the security guard called Parker, whom Trixie had suspected earlier. He held a kitchen knife and was thrusting it towards Honey. In an instant, Dan had thrust her aside. He lunged at the man, grasping his wrist, trying to hold the knife at bay.

Parker slashed wildly, catching Dan’s shirt sleeve and ripping it. Honey was stunned for a moment, then let out a shrill Bob-White! Bob-White! She shrieked as the two fighters started rolling on the ground. Parker seemed to gain the advantage, then Dan threw him off, pinning the knife-hand against the floor.

The door flew open and Jim appeared, closely followed by Mart. Seeing them, Parker made a desperate attempt to free himself, but Honey jumped forward and stamped on his fingers. The knife skidded away as the man cried out in pain. Jim leapt forward and grabbed the other arm and the man stopped struggling.

“Are you all right?” Honey asked Dan, as he examined the tear in his shirt. “Did he get you?”

“Just a scratch,” he reassured, showing her. “I’m fine.”

She kissed him soundly, then smiled up at him as he held her.

“You’ll have to be my hero, now,” she whispered. “I’ll have to think of a suitable reward.”

“I can think of one or two things I’d like,” he divulged, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe we should take this show upstairs.”

“A little assistance here?” asked Mart, in exasperation. “Mangan! Quit gazing into Honey’s eyes and give us a hand here.”

“Oh. Right. Okay.”

Together, the three men managed to secure the security officer in a separate room to their other prisoner. Dan and Jim met with the women to discuss the matter, while Mart and Brian kept watch.

“What are we going to do now?” asked Jim, out of hearing of either captive. “We can’t keep them tied up indefinitely.”

“What’s the weather like?” asked Honey. “Could someone go for help now, do you think?”

Trixie went to a window and looked outside. The wind had died down considerably and it was no longer snowing, but the deep drifts would soon stop anyone who tried to make their way through them.

“Did you bring your snow shoes?” she suggested. “Or, does anyone know how to fly?”

Before anyone could respond, they were astounded to hear loud knocking at the front door. Honey, as hostess, raced to answer it. She was followed by the rest of the group, all anxious to know who was there.

“Officers! Am I ever glad to see you,” gushed Honey, as she opened the door. Two police officers entered at her invitation, and she continued, “We were just trying to figure out how to let you know we’re in trouble. We’ve been attacked by some men and we’ve captured them, but I’d really appreciate it if you’d arrest them for us.”

“If you don’t mind our asking,” added Trixie, “how, exactly, did you know that we needed you?”

“We had a call from one of the neighbours,” said one of the officers, whose badge gave his name as Taylor, “saying that something was wrong up here. Security officers acting suspiciously.”

“Were they ever,” said Honey. “We’ve got one of them over here. He just tried to attack us with a knife. The other man we caught wasn’t authorised to be in the house. I’d like to have him charged with trespassing, as well as whatever else you can get him on.”

As Honey led the officers away, Trixie dropped back and indicated for Jim to do the same.

“What are you doing?” he asked, in a whisper, as the rest of the group followed. “Don’t you want to be in on the end?”

“Not this time,” she replied. “This is Honey’s case. She deserves her own ending – and she doesn’t need me sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I love you, Trixie Frayne.”

“And I love you,” she answered, giving him a kiss. “Do you think we can occupy ourselves while the formalities are being taken care of?”

“I think we just might.”

Honey stood alone, quietly watching as the police car drew away with Michael inside. After the statements were given and the arrests had been made, the others had kept their distance and given her the space that she apparently needed. The car pulled out of sight and she turned back towards the house to find several people watching her.

Dan stepped forward from the group, taking her hand and leading her back to the others. He was watchful, waiting for her to make the next move.

“Well, I’m glad that’s over,” she admitted, with a small smile. “And I’m glad, in a way, that my secret is out.”

“So am I.” Dan leaned down to kiss her forehead. “More than I can say.”

The End