Part Four

He Said

“What can you tell me about this?” Honey asked her father a few hours later. “I thought it looked a bit similar to one you showed me a photo of, years ago.”

He took it in his hand and turned it over. His eyebrows rose. “Where did you get this?”

“It’s Trixie’s,” she answered. “She found it ages ago, hidden inside something she inherited from Lucius Englefield, but she only just showed it to me today – and even then, only because I noticed it and asked.”

Matthew pulled out a book from his private bookshelf, flicked through its pages and compared the token to something. He laid the book on the table.

“Do you know what it is?” his daughter asked.

He frowned. “I think so. Let’s get Trixie on the phone.”

He snatched up the phone and made the call.

“Now Trixie, listen to me,” he told her, after they had greeted each other. “I’ve examined your token and I now know who issued it. You’re going to need to make an appointment with these people as soon as possible. Tell them the number that’s stamped on the token when you make the appointment. Then, take it with you when you go. Try to get the soonest appointment they can manage. Do you understand?”

“Uh, I guess so,” she replied. “Is it that urgent?”

“It could be.” He paused, thinking. “I don’t know how long they’ll hold whatever the item is. You may be running out of time.”

“But who are they?” she wondered. “How do I make the appointment?”

He picked up the book, asked her if she was ready and read out the address and telephone number to her.

“Call them,” he urged. “Try right now.”

“I will,” she answered and they both hung up.

“You’re worried, aren’t you?” Honey asked him.

He startled, having almost forgotten she was there.

“A little,” he admitted. “Whatever Englefield left there for her, he intended that she find and deal with it years ago. I’m concerned that it might be too late.”

“But why did he do it this way?” she wondered. “Why not leave it to her directly?”

“That’s a very good question,” he replied, “and one to which we may not find out the answer – at least, not until she finds out what it is.”

She Said

Trixie walked up to the door of an unmarked and unremarkable brownstone building in a slightly shabby New York neighbourhood. Glancing at the number and checking it against the paper she held, she rang the bell. A buzzer sounded and the door opened by itself.

Unnerved by the unexpected automation, she hesitated a moment before stepping inside. The area just inside the door had been converted into a reception area. An older man in a dark suit looked up as she approached him.

“Mrs. Frayne, I presume,” he greeted her.

“I go by Ms Belden,” she corrected, but he simply waved the matter away.

“May I see the medallion?” the man asked.

Trixie dug into a pocket and pulled it out. He looked it over, nodded once.

“We had become concerned that this token would never be redeemed.” He cast her a cold look. “Nevertheless, the deposit is still safe with us.”

She frowned. “Deposit?”

“The deposit for which this token was issued and for whose redemption this must be surrendered.”

“Okay,” she answered.

He turned his back to her, facing a bank of what looked almost like post office boxes, but with ornate front panels. Each one bore a number and a slot for a token; for some boxes, the slot was filled and others it was empty. The man matched the token to the right box, slid it into the slot and used a key to open the box.

Turning back to her, he handed over a large, brown envelope sealed with the same image as the token impressed in red wax. From somewhere beneath the desk and out of her sight, he took a slightly different token and handed that to her also.

“Thank you.” She smiled, but he did not smile back.

“If you are in need of our services in the future …” He gestured to the token.

“Thanks.”

He nodded again, then sat back down. Seeing that the interview was over, she stepped back outside and onto the street. Impatience seized her – she held a mysterious envelope, several years delayed due to her inability to actually cooperate with her own best friend. All she wanted was to get into it right there and then. She hastened back to her car, cursing the fact that the closest place to park was three blocks away.

The walk back seemed to last forever, but at last it was over. She got into the driver’s seat and slammed her door.

Trixie stared at the envelope for some moments, before tearing it open and pulling out the sheaf of papers within. At the top of the pile was a letter from a legal firm regarding the veracity of certain documents. The name James Winthrop Frayne jumped out at her from the page. She flicked through the pile, finding a wide variety of documents, photographs and even some diagrams. The last page in the pile puzzled her the most. Instead of words or pictures, it contained an incomprehensible selection of lines.

The envelope shifted and something moved inside. Trixie opened it wide and found a smaller envelope in the same colour. She tipped it out into her hand and felt a hard shape within. Breaking the seal, she found it to be a small key.

Putting it aside, Trixie went back to the top of the pile of documents. She took a deep breath, pulled out her phone and called her best friend.

“Listen. I’ve got the papers that Lucius Englefield left me and there’s some weird stuff among them,” she explained. “And there’s something I need your help with.”

“What is it?” Honey answered.

Trixie heaved a breath. “There’s something here about … erm, well, about Jim. About a letter from a mayor’s office and whether it’s real. I want you to see if he needs this; if he’s really had trouble to do with someone called Leora Blake.”

“Okay, I’ll get onto it. But I might find someone else who can ask him. I think it might be better in person and I can’t leave because Mart is out. Unless you’d be okay with leaving it until tomorrow?”

“Let’s get it over with, if we can,” Trixie decided.

“Okay,” Honey repeated. “I’ll get right onto it. And I’ll be over tomorrow to see the documents. What time?”

They negotiated a time to meet, then Trixie added, “It’ll be really good to get your opinion on this, Honey. There’s a couple of things here that I can’t make out at all.”

He Said

“Have you got the document?” Brian asked, when he arrived at Ten Acres.

Honey had called him earlier and explained the situation. After talking it through, they had decided to leave Trixie’s name out of the matter for the time being. He had called Jim to let him know he was coming and asked if he could see the letter in question.

Jim handed it over, looking glum. “I don’t know why you want to see it. There’s nothing I can do about it, Brian. Nothing.”

“We’ll see about that,” Brian replied.

He frowned as he examined it, then put a finger on one spot. “Who is this man? Reeve Whitford.”

Jim looked at the name and signature in the place indicated and shrugged. “The mayor of where we lived back then. I don’t suppose I ever laid eyes on him. And I don’t know a thing about him.”

“And yet, he accused you of rather a lot of very questionable activities,” Brian answered. “Driving unlicensed. Leaving the scene of a fatal accident. Interfering with a corpse. All to cover up a secret relationship with the dead girl.”

“Her name was Leora.”

Brian gave him a look. “I know you didn’t do these things. I also can see that this letter looks totally real.”

“It is totally real. I told you this the last time you saw it: I’ve seen this before, when I lived with Jonesy, and I can’t do anything about it. All it needs is for someone to go and search and they’ll find this. Obviously, the blackmailer did look, because he gave me a copy.”

A breath passed between Brian’s lips. “And what I’m saying is that there must be something about this that’s wrong, because I don’t believe that you did this.”

“Of course I didn’t. But that doesn’t stop the document from being real.”

“You don’t think it’s a forgery?”

“I know it’s not a forgery. A man from the mayor’s office came and delivered it in person. Jonesy wouldn’t let me forget it, let me tell you. And before you suggest it, there was no one he knew who could look as legitimate and respectable as the man I saw. And anyway, the first time Dumassi showed it to me, I went back and checked the newspaper archives. The incident made it to the papers, including a reference to enquiries being made about me.”

“But it shouldn’t be real.” Brian ran a hand through his hair. “Did you ever answer any questions on it, or anything like that? Was there an investigation?”

He shook his head. “None that I can recall.”

“And you’ve shown this to your lawyer?”

“Ah.”

Brian stared. “What do you mean, ‘Ah’?”

“Well,” Jim mumbled, “I mean, no.”

“No? But why not? Show it to him! Let him advise you on how you can fight this. If you don’t deal with it, it’ll be hanging over your head forever.”

“It doesn’t matter any more,” Jim muttered. “I’ve given up this fight.”

“Well, I get a feeling this fight is coming back to you,” he replied. “And I think, within a day or two, you’re going to get a visit from Honey about just this.”

“Ah. So that’s where this has come from.”

“In a roundabout way, yes. And she’s not giving up, Jim, so be prepared.”

She Said

Trixie threw open the door in the midst of a barrage of knocks, almost throwing her best friend off balance.

“Show me, show me, show me right now!” Honey demanded, without missing a beat. “I’ve waited way too long already.”

Trixie nodded. “They’re over there, on the table. I’ll sit down on the floor and play with Joshie and keep him occupied.”

While Honey pored over the papers, Trixie set up a track for toy cars all over the floor. Joshie joined in with more enthusiasm than skill. Soon, both of them were steering little cars all over the place with the required sound effects. Trixie was so absorbed in the game that she hardly noticed Honey’s gasp of shock.

“Look at this!” Honey urged. “Look!”

Leaving the little boy to his own devices, Trixie scrambled to her feet.

“Oh, I was going to ask you about that one,” she noted. “Do you even know where this place is? And why do I need a surveillance photo of Brian?”

“It’s a hospital in Buffalo,” Honey answered. “And I only know that because of this.”

She placed a newspaper clipping next to the photograph.

Trixie leaned closer. “You’re right; it’s the same place.”

“Just look at the date stamp on the photo,” Honey asked, pointing. “And look at this article.”

“The day of the abduction,” Trixie whispered. “Brian was at this hospital on the day that girl got abducted from nearby.”

Wheels were beginning to turn in Trixie’s head. She thought back over the long-ago fight with Jim. He had claimed to be at that particular hospital on that specific day – a claim which she had interpreted as an admission of guilt. Brian in the surveillance photo carried an overnight bag.

“I think Brian might have been a patient at this hospital,” Honey mused. “Doesn’t it look like he’s going to go through that door? That maybe he’s going there for some sort of treatment?”

“Would he have driven himself there?” Trixie wondered.

Honey shook her head. “I wouldn’t think so. He’d more likely ask Jim to take him.”

“And Jim wouldn’t be able to say no.” She thought again of the way he had evaded questions about what he was doing that day. “But would he really have kept it a secret all this time?”

“He would, if Brian made him promise,” Honey answered, at once. “And, for what it’s worth, we already know that Brian has a secret that he’s desperate to keep, and that Jim knows what it is.”

“But that would mean …” Trixie’s eyes widened in horror at the implications of their deductions. “That would mean that Jim didn’t lie. And, if Jim didn’t lie, then I dumped him for no reason and we’ve been fighting all this time and I let him think …” Her eyes slid shut as the waves of shame overwhelmed her. “I stopped him from fulfilling his dreams; I made him think that some of the things he’d always wanted were impossible; I made both of us miserable and wasted all this time when we could have been happy together.”

“You didn’t know, Trixie,” her best friend pointed out, in a vain attempt to comfort her. “This isn’t your fault.”

A sob burst from Trixie as her emotions overwhelmed her. “You don’t know the half of it,” she cried. “You don’t know what I put him through.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Honey soothed. “He’ll forgive you; I know he will.”

“That just makes it worse,” Trixie replied, rather irrationally. “I don’t deserve to be forgiven. And he never deserved what I put him through.”

Honey frowned, even as she continued to rub her friend’s back in a soothing manner. “I don’t understand.”

The sobs subsided and Trixie gazed at her, wondering how much she should say. “We have a secret, Jim and I,” she admitted. “From the time we went on that road trip. You remember I was supposed to be cursed? And Jim and I went to talk to Lucius Englefield about it? Well, we never told you everything he said that day.”

There was a long pause, while Honey’s face filled with dread. “What did he say?”

“I’ll get to that in a minute,” Trixie promised. “Remember, though, that this was before we proved there was no curse. So, you remember that Mr. Englefield said that day that I would fall faint and die the next day if I didn’t clear his sister’s name? Well, I didn’t really recognise it at the time, but Jim was absolutely terrified. He really and truly was afraid I was going to die. And that’s why we … um, took the course of action that we took.”

“You mean, you had sex,” Honey guessed, blandly. “We knew that, Trix. That wasn’t exactly a secret. We all knew. Well, except maybe Brian, but only because he was so busy working on his exercise in futility – that is, trying to get me back – that he hardly noticed anything that wasn’t in some way connected to either me or Mart.”

“No,” Trixie contradicted, then stopped. “I mean, yes, we did, but that’s not what I’m talking about, well, actually it is, but not entirely.”

Her best friend stared at her fearfully, but said nothing.

Trixie continued, “See, Mr. Englefield said there was a way out of the curse and Jim fixed on that and said we should take it, only I said it was silly and we agreed to do nothing until the next day on the hike,” she let out in one breath. The fear was visibly increasing on her friend’s face. “I blacked out a couple of times and that’s when we both got scared.”

“What did you do, Trixie? Please tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.”

Trixie squeezed her eyes closed so that she would not have to see the expression on Honey’s face any longer. In a small voice she admitted, “We eloped.”

The noise that Honey made after that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan. “And now everything makes sense,” she murmured. “That’s why he’s been the way he’s been since you two broke up.”

A lone tear ran down Trixie’s cheek. “If it wasn’t for that one thing, he would have taken up with some rich and beautiful woman by now and forgotten all about me.”

“No!” Honey cried, giving her friend a hug. “He wouldn’t do that! He loves you and he would miss you anyway, he just wouldn’t have quite the same air of despair that he has now.” She covered her mouth with one hand, eyes wide at the indiscretion she had just made.

“Despair,” Trixie repeated. Forgetting everything else, she sprang into action. “I’ve got to talk to him. I need to tell him that I know it wasn’t his fault.” She tried to dial his number, but realised that she did not know it. Muttering in frustration, she returned to ask Honey for it, then resumed the task. She barely noticed Honey telling her that she was going to find where her son had gone.

“I need to see you,” she demanded, the instant she heard Jim’s voice. “Where can we meet? Can you see me right now?”

“Trixie?” His voice was soft, and he sounded dazed. “I – well, you could come here … if that’s okay?”

“Fine,” she decided, in spite of the tightening she felt in her chest. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Bye.”

Softly, she cursed. “I can’t go there,” she whispered. “Why did I say I’d go there?”

Steeling herself, she pushed the unwanted emotions aside. “It’s my own fault that things are how they are,” she told herself. “I’m a big girl and I can handle this.” So, why are my insides like jelly at the thought of going to Ten Acres? she asked herself. When put like that, the answer was quite plain: Because I’m still angry with him about clearing the site and building the house – our house.

But it wasn’t their house; it was his house – his land, his inheritance, his decision. She threw away the right to a say in what happened there.

Having reasoned herself into admitting that she was being silly, she pushed those feelings down and got on with what she had to do: go to Ten Acres and actually knock on the door.

He Said

Jim tried not to pace as he waited for Trixie to arrive, but he started again every time his concentration waned. He picked up a stray object here, only to put it down somewhere else it did not belong. He went to the kitchen to get a rag to clean a mark off the hallway wall, but returned without it. He even failed to notice that Madoc was hiding in a corner, carefully tearing up an important piece of paper and eating it.

The period between the call and the ringing of the doorbell seemed to both stretch for an eternity and disappear in a flash. He opened the door, mouth suddenly dry, and saw her standing on the doorstep, fidgeting.

“Can we talk?” she asked, in the most tentative tones. “About us, and what happened?”

“Trixie, how about if you let me take the kids, first,” Honey suggested, from somewhere out of Jim’s line of sight.

Taking a few steps back, he looked through a doorway to where he had left the baby, lying on a blanket on the floor. Her little face was crinkling in displeasure at his inattention and she was sure to start wailing any moment. Madoc was nowhere in sight.

“Is that okay, Jim?” Honey asked, looking up at him in concern. He had not noticed her entering the house, but she now stood right beside him.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” He cast a wild look around the living room and saw a few fragments of paper near one of the sofas. “He was here just a minute ago.”

Honey scooped up Verena, who had started to fret, and peeked around the sofa.

“Oh, you naughty boy!” she exclaimed, deftly removing the wad of chewed up paper from his mouth and then swinging him onto her other hip. “I hope you didn’t need that, Jim.” She turned and called out to her own son, who came running. Jim hadn’t noticed his arrival either.

“We’ll just go for a walk, so you two can talk,” Honey continued. “I’ll bring them back a bit later.”

Once more, Jim nodded. He watched her leave the house by the front door, side-stepping Trixie, who still stood on the threshold. Taking a deep breath, Jim returned to stand in front of her.

She Said

“So, can we talk?” Trixie repeated, once her best friend was out of sight.

Jim nodded, not seeming willing to trust his voice. The tiniest glimmer of hope showed on his face, but there was a guardedness, too. He waited in silence while Trixie collected her thoughts.

“You took Brian to the hospital in Buffalo, didn’t you? On our anniversary. And he made you promise not to tell anyone.”

By his deer-in-the-headlights look, she knew that she had deduced correctly.

“So I’m sorry I accused you of lying all those times,” she whispered, bowing her head. “You can’t imagine how sorry I was when I realised what had happened.”

“Forgiven,” he answered. “I don’t blame you for not believing me. I admit it looked pretty suspicious.”

“Brian will be lucky if I ever speak to him again.” Warming to the subject, her voice rose to a more normal level. “If he hadn’t asked you to promise such a stupid thing, none of this would have happened.”

Beside her, Jim shrugged. “I should have refused. It’s not all his fault.”

“And why didn’t you?” she asked. “What threat did he hold over you?”

For a long time, Jim did not answer. He gazed into the middle distance, his expression solemn and closed. “He said that any pretence of friendship would be over between us. You can’t imagine how many times I’ve thought that it wasn’t worth it.”

She frowned, thinking over the things that had led them to this point. “But there’s just one thing I still don’t understand. I know I should have told you about it at the time, only … well, I didn’t want you to lie to me.”

“I would never lie to you Trixie,” he answered. “It was killing me to lie by omission.”

She nodded, giving herself a moment to push down the emotions that the memories evoked.

“What do you want to know?” he asked, gently.

She met his eyes. “Dumassi sent me pictures of you with other girls. And he played me a recording of you telling a girl that I didn’t matter to you.”

The colour drained from his face. “No. I never said that. Never.”

“You said that what I thought didn’t matter. It’s nearly the same thing.”

“Trixie, if I’m remembering correctly, you were thirteen when I said that, and far too young to be my girlfriend. Please don’t tell me that our entire future has been wiped out by a few moments of teenage lust.”

“So, you’re saying that all those things were over with before we got together?”

“Years before.” He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry. He showed me the pictures and I just assumed that you’d know that they were from before there was an ‘us’. I would never cheat on you.”

A tear suddenly escaped Trixie’s eye and trickled down her face. She did not bother to wipe it away. “So, how do we fix this?” she wondered aloud. “Where do we start?”

He half-turned away, and gazed out across the lawn. “I don’t know. I’d given up hope that this day would ever come. I don’t even feel like the same person I was back then.”

“Are you saying you don’t want us to get back together?” she asked, hoping that the note of fear was not evident in her voice.

Jim turned sharply to face her, alarm etched in every feature. “Of course I want us back together,” he told her, closing the gap between them and clutching her arm so hard that it hurt. “I haven’t wanted anything else this whole time. I just don’t know how to do it; I didn’t think you’d want to after …” His gaze wandered in the direction that Honey had taken with the children and he let go of her arm. “It’s kind of complicated now.”

Trixie nodded, but remained silent. Looking up into his face at such close quarters, she could see the passage of the last few years marked quite clearly. She was shocked to see how much older he looked now, in comparison to the way she remembered him. She noted, also, something different in his eyes. They were sad, it was true, but there was a quiet dignity there, which she had never noticed before. All at once, Trixie felt like she was looking into the eyes of a stranger.

“We both need time to think this through, I think,” he said softly, stepping back and withdrawing his gaze. “Circumstances have changed; I don’t suppose it has to be a foregone conclusion.”

“Are you saying you don’t want me?” she demanded, now with a note of anger.

Even with his face averted, she could see the tears shining on his cheeks and the hitch of his shoulders as he suppressed a sob. Finally, he answered, “I’m more afraid that when you think about it, you won’t want me.”

“Jim!” she cried. “I came here to apologise. It was my fault. You didn’t do anything wrong, except listen to my bonehead brother. I wanted us to make it up. Why are you doing this?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve got two kids. I’m not exactly eligible bachelor number one.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” she answered, “but your kids are actually related to me, and not to you. I can’t believe my brother foisted his love children onto you and left you to fend for yourself! And he let you suffer for his secret. He’s really got a nerve!”

“It wasn’t exactly like that,” Jim muttered. “The fact remains, though, that I have responsibilities that I didn’t have before. I have to wonder whether that will make a difference to you.”

“It doesn’t,” she replied, letting go of her indignation at Brian with a conscious effort. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

She walked around him to see his face once more and immediately recognised fear. It over-rode every other emotion in his expression, and there were plenty of them, each fighting for supremacy. A wave of guilt passed through her; she knew that she had given him that fear and that it would probably never completely leave him. With gentle hands, she touched his arms, his chest, his face. Her lips parted slightly as she wondered whether to kiss him, or wait for him to kiss her.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked, softly.

He gave a slight shrug and the glimmer of a smile. “Maybe I don’t know what to do next.”

“Shall I remind you?”

He smiled and leaned towards her. Their lips met briefly, in a tentative kiss. For a long moment, they simply looked into each others’ eyes, then they kissed once more. Passion, dormant between them for years, awoke in that instant. Time seemed to slow to non-existence and the world disappeared. The years of separation vanished, too, and Trixie felt transported back to Kentucky all those years before, and the kiss they had shared beside a precipice, moments after she had almost fallen.

The jolt of remembered fear perhaps was transferred to Jim, as he pulled back suddenly at that moment and stared into her face. He seemed to be searching for something there and it made Trixie feel a return of the teenage insecurity which had once plagued her.

“It doesn’t seem quite real,” he admitted, with a shaky smile. “I’m going to wake up any moment and you’ll be gone again.” A moment later, he cried, “Ouch! What was that for?”

“You’re supposed to pinch people who think they’re dreaming,” she answered with a grin. “So, now that we’ve established that you’re really awake, aren’t you going to ask me on a date? I’m sure either Moms or Honey would jump at the chance to be your sitter for a night.”

He smiled, his eyes lighting up. “You’re still doing that, are you?” At her confused expression, he explained, “Volunteering people for things.”

“If you don’t believe me, why don’t we go and find Honey and ask her, or pick up the phone and call my mother. So, am I being asked on a date, or not?”

“If you put it that way, yes. Trixie, will you go on a date with me, please?”

She nodded. “Yes, I will. Name the day, the time, the place and I’ll be there.”

He Said

Peter Belden entered the kitchen to find his wife easing some pastry off her rolling pin and onto the most enormous apple pie he had seen in years.

“Mmm, that looks delicious,” he told her. “Are we expecting visitors?”

She shook her head and began pressing down the edges. He watched for a moment, admiring her swift but precise movements.

“Are you going to give it to someone?” he asked, hoping for a ‘no’ but also dreading the same answer.

“I wasn’t thinking of giving it away,” she answered, at last. “Did you have someone in mind?”

“No, no one.” He hesitated. With Bobby away working, it was only the two of them in the house. “Helen, how are you expecting us to eat all of that?”

She put the finishing touches on her masterpiece and stood back to look at it. A blush tinged her cheeks.

“I really don’t know,” she answered. “I wasn’t thinking about that when I made it.”

She turned away from him, placing the pie in the oven.

“How about if we invite some of the kids over for dinner,” he suggested, seeing the distress in her movements, even if he couldn’t see her face. “You must be thinking about them to make so much.”

Turning back to him, she smiled. “Yes, that sounds good.”

“I’ll call around and see who’s free,” he offered.

“Thank you, Peter,” she answered, as he pulled her into his arms. “That would be lovely.”

He dropped a kiss onto her head, just where it was level with his mouth. “Whatever you’re worrying about, we’ll get through it together,” he whispered.

As her arms tightened around him, he knew he’d been right: she was worried about one or more of their offspring. And what he needed to do next was to convince the right one to come around.

She Said

“I think there’s something I need to do, and soon,” Trixie told Jim, after they had settled the details of their first date. “I’m going to go outside now and do it, but I’ll be back soon.”

He nodded, but did not ask what it was she was doing.

She strolled across the grounds, until she found a place where she could look down on her childhood home. Taking out her phone, she place a call to her eldest brother. When he answered, she did not even greet him, but launched straight into the conversation.

“I know that you were at that hospital the day a girl was abducted from outside. And I’ve deduced that it was Jim who took you there.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” he replied, sounding defensive. “So what if I was?”

“You made Jim promise to lie to me!” she accused.

“No. Just to refrain from telling you certain facts.”

“I was a lie of omission!”

“It wasn’t. I just wanted to keep certain things to myself.”

“And you couldn’t bring yourself to tell me that he was in Buffalo with you? When he and I broke up over what he’d been doing that time? Brian!”

He gulped. “I’m sorry. It was selfish of me and I should have known better.”

“Yes; it was and you should have.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “But I guess I can forgive you. Probably.”

“There are lots of things I should have done differently,” he admitted, in a low voice. “And I never really kept any of my secrets; not completely.”

“I don’t know how you expected to,” she grumbled. “Our family and friends aren’t like that.”

“No. But I’m going to try to put things right.”

“Good,” she answered. “Please, just do it soon.”

He Said

When his father had called earlier, Mart thought that dinner at Crabapple Farm sounded like a wonderful idea. What he hadn’t realised was that his older brother and his sister – who were also invited – had only that afternoon been arguing. That circumstance was revealed when Brian arrived, after Honey had taken Joshie with her to the kitchen.

“Trixie isn’t coming too, is she?” he asked, as soon as he saw Mart.

Their father answered in the affirmative. “Your mother can’t seem to cater for small parties, so we thought we’d ask all of you – and the other Bob-Whites, too, and Liv, of course.”

Brian’s expression altered at the mention of Liv’s name, but he still seemed uncertain. In a mumble he admitted that Trixie had only just yelled at him an hour ago.

“You can all put your differences aside for one evening,” Peter ordered them. “I expect you all to behave yourselves. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Dad,” Mart answered at once.

Brian only nodded.

“Good,” their father pronounced. “Now, act more naturally, please. Your mother is already upset about something. I don’t want to make things worse.”

The three began a conversation, stilted at first, but which gained warmth as they went along. Dan and Di arrived, almost together, a short time later and readily joined in. Honey brought Joshie back from the kitchen and he ran among the grown-ups’ legs as they talked. When the next arrival politely knocked at the door, rather than letting themselves in, Mart glanced around in confusion.

“I’ll get it,” Di offered, and went to answer the front door.

“Sorry I’m late,” Liv greeted, as Di led her into the room.

“Not everyone’s here, yet,” Mart assured her. “But speaking of which, where is Trixie?”

Liv stared at him. “You mean, you don’t know?”

Mart’s heart sank. “What sort of trouble is she in, this time? And where did you last see her?”

Liv cast him a quizzical look. “She’s not in trouble.”

“Hi everyone. We’re here!” Trixie called, from the doorway.

His sister looked happier than she had in years. Looking behind her, Mart’s brain spun its wheels, trying to fathom what could possibly have happened to bring about the thing that his eyes were seeing. Right behind Trixie stood Jim, baby in one arm and toddler on the other hip. Mart became aware that his mouth was open and snapped it shut.

“Hi,” Jim greeted, in a low voice.

Before anyone else regained the power of speech, Honey pushed her way through the crowd and hugged Trixie.

“It’s great that you’re both here,” she told them. “Here: let me help you.”

She took both children from Jim, whispering something to him as she did so, and took them and Joshie back to the kitchen. Mart shot her a look, trying to convey his outrage at having this sprung on him when she was so obviously unsurprised.

“You needed to see it for yourself!” she whispered as she passed him.

“What is going on?” Mart demanded, as soon as his wife had gone. “And when did this happen?”

“This afternoon,” Trixie answered, ignoring the first question.

Mart, however, refused to be budged. “Tell me.”

Trixie squared her shoulders. “I found out who was lying.” She pointed at Brian. “It was him.”

Into the shocked silence, Brian dropped two words: “I’m sorry.”

For a long moment, all of them waited for Trixie’s response. She stared at her brother, expression inscrutable, then she nodded.

“Thank you,” she answered, softly. “I think that’s what I really needed to hear.”

Brian nodded. “And I’m going to explain everything. I’m glad we’re all together. After we’ve eaten, I’m going to try to make everything right – at least, everything that I can.”

To Mart’s bewilderment, Trixie threw her arms around Brian and hugged him. It only took their brother a moment to hug her back.

She Said

Eventually, Honey returned to Trixie’s place for a second examination of the documents. Her best friend’s precipitous departure the last time had left her with less than half of them fully examined. When they met again, she got all the way to the bottom of the pile and there saw the most mysterious one of all.

“What do you suppose this is?” she asked, holding it up.

Trixie, who once more was playing cars with Joshie, looked up. “I can’t figure it out. I’ve tried all kinds of things, but I can’t make sense of it.”

“It looks like something Joshie might draw,” Honey answered, smiling. “But I suppose you’ve checked it for the more obvious things.”

Her friend nodded. “Yes, but the only thing that makes the slightest bit of sense is this.” She got to her knees and placed her fingers on certain parts of the paper. “If you do this, it looks like letters. W or N here; this might be an E or F; over here looks like an L; and practically any of the up and down ones might be an I. Only, I can’t decide which letters they should be and whether they should make words.”

“Oh! I get it. But you’re right: there are different letters, depending on which part you cover up.”

“And I guess there must be something to tell us which they are, only I can’t find it if it’s here. I’ve looked at everything in the envelope.”

Honey’s eyes widened. “What if it’s not in the envelope? What if it’s in what got you the envelope?”

“The token? But I had to surrender it!” Trixie clutched her curls. “What if that old bas– I mean, bad man, made this code with something that I have no way of getting back? That would be just like him!”

“Not the token – where you got the token.”

This time, Trixie’s eyes widened. “The fake clock!”

“Where is it?” Honey demanded. “You haven’t thrown it out or anything, have you?”

“No, I don’t think so. But I don’t know where it is!” Trixie wailed. “It might be in Kentucky!”

Honey rolled her eyes. “Why would you have taken it with you to Kentucky?”

Trixie shook her head. “You’re right: of course I didn’t. I think I remember, now. I dumped it in Moms and Dad’s attic, along with a lot of other junk.” She frowned. “But it was in the same box as the token.”

Suspicion bloomed in Honey’s mind. “What happened to the box you found the token in?”

Her best friend shrugged. “I don’t know which one it was.”

Honey began to tap her foot. “Where is the box, Trixie?”

“What box?”

“The box you’re avoiding unpacking. Where have you put it?”

“You know, you’re sounding a lot like my mother,” Trixie grumbled.

Honey smiled. “That’s because I am Mrs. Belden. Now, stop trying to change the subject and tell me where the box is.”

Shame-faced, Trixie entered the bedroom and returned carrying the box.

Honey pounced upon it and began pulling things out. Near the bottom, she cried out in triumph. “Here it is! Oh, and here’s the note, too. Not that we really need it any more. I guess it must have been turned upside down at some stage and the token moved up to the top.”

She asked for and received a screwdriver and they together began to examine the mechanism.

“Now, if we can just figure out how to use it,” Honey mused, “we might be able to decipher the message.”

Trixie frowned, as an idea teased her, just out of reach. In a moment, her eyes widened.

“The key! Where did I put the key?” She covered her eyes for a moment, then jumped to her feet. “I think it’s still in the car. I’ll be right back.”

She raced downstairs and returned with it clutched in her hand. She fitted it into the slot and the two peered into the mechanism to see if it did anything as she turned it.

“Things are definitely moving in there,” Honey noted, “but what do we do with it next?”

“I don’t know,” Trixie answered. “But it must do something.”

After a certain amount of poking, prodding and banging heads, the two discovered a part that opened and closed. When opened, they could see that a line had been marked on it. The inner surface contained a rubber grip.

“But what does it do?” Honey wondered. “It looks like you should put something there and line it up with that line, but what?”

“A piece of paper?” Trixie guessed. “But it can’t be the whole sheet; it wouldn’t fit.”

“Let’s try cutting a strip from a blank sheet,” Honey suggested, “and see if we’re right.”

Then followed half an hour of trial and error. The first strip’s edge wasn’t straight enough and it caught half-way through.

“But it shows we’re on the right track,” Honey noted when they got it out. “Just look at these holes it’s made – there’s definitely something about them that’ll tell us what it means.”

The second strip was too narrow and only part of the design – a seemingly random pattern of holes – appeared on the finished product.

Trixie turned it this way and that. “This is nearly right. But how do we know which way around the paper goes? And are we looking at the holes, or the parts where there aren’t holes?”

“Let’s try it again and see if we can get the size of strip right,” Honey suggested.

Their third attempt ran through smoothly. This done, they turned to the original paper and tried to decide what to do next.

“Look at these dots!” Trixie held the third strip against the paper. “They’re exactly the same size as this.”

“How about if I make two more strips,” Honey suggested. “We can copy the part of the design onto each of them and run them through the clock, one each way around.”

Trixie frowned. “But aren’t there four ways it could go? Once for each end first and once for each way up?”

Honey groaned. “Yes, you’re right. But we still only need two strips – we just copy it onto both sides.”

It soon proved that Honey was the better at the cutting and copying, so Trixie took Joshie to the kitchen with her and let him ‘help’ her fix lunch. By the time they were finished, so was Honey.

“Okay. Let’s try this.” Honey handed the strips to Trixie. “You do it. I’m too nervous.”

Trixie nodded and carefully checked which way around she needed to put each one. She threaded the first strip into the machine and turned the key. Pulling the strip out, she looked at both sides and frowned.

“Not these ones. They make no sense at all.”

The second one went through the machine and came out the other side. The first side made no sense, so she flipped it over.

“Oh, no!” Honey cried. “Where have we gone wrong?”

Trixie frowned. “Maybe I put one through the wrong way.”

She lined up the two strips and held them up to the light to see if they were the same. Her jaw dropped.

“What is it?” Honey demanded.

Trixie fed one of the strips back through the machine and held it out to her friend.

“There. The answer!”

The holes had obliterated parts of the lines on the paper, leaving roughly-drawn, but still legible, letters: W-H-I-T-F-O-R-D-L-I-E-D. It did not take much imagination to interpret that as ‘Whitford lied.’

“But who is Whitford?” Trixie cried. “And why do we care that he lied?”

“I don’t know,” Honey answered, slowly. “Unless he was the man who sent the letter to Jim?”

Trixie eyes widened. “I’ve got to see that letter. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before.”

Honey grinned. “You may have had some other things on your mind.”

Trixie declined to answer the suggestion.

Continue to part five.