Chapter Two
Honey's bed was empty and Sherlock was scratching at the adjoining bathroom door. Crossing the room, Trixie noted the drapes were still drawn. She checked quickly to make sure the windows were still closed and locked. As she was doing this she heard the unmistakable sounds of someone being sick to their stomach. Knocking softly on the door, she said, "Honey, it's Trix, can I come in?" Not waiting for answer, as the retching continued, Trixie opened the door. "It's OK, Sherlock. Go to Daddy."
Honey was sitting sideways on the floor, leaning back against the tub. She was pale and wan. Trixie had a quick flash to that frail, sickly girl she first met all those years ago. Just as she had when Honey fell while learning how to ride a bike and tore up her knee, Trixie wet a cloth and bathed her friend's wrists and forehead with the cool cloth. "Honey, are you OK?"
"I was trying to rest but the room was spinning so much, I started to get woozy. Next thing I knew I was getting sick," Honey said.
"My poor baby," Madeline Wheeler said, coming into the bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up and into a new shirt. Would you like to take a hot shower?"
"I'm still a little unsteady, so maybe just getting cleaned up and a change of shirts would be best," Honey admitted.
Trixie started backing out of the bathroom. "I'll get out of your way. I know you and Maddie have this all under control. I'll see you back in the living room. Would you like some tea?"
Honey laughed softly. "You all act as if I'm dying. I'm just a little dizzy. Thank you for worrying about me. I'll tell you what I would like. I'd like a large glass of peach iced tea, please."
"You've got it! If there's none in the cupboards, I'll send Jim out to get some," Trixie said, smiling at her dearest friend, as she shut the bedroom door behind her.
Maddie and Honey looked at each other and laughed at the same wicked thought, "Jim, dear, would you please go get some peach tea for Honey?…" Maddie said in a silly voice. "Who would have ever thought those two would turn so domestic?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "You wash up, but sit down first please, and I'll get you a clean shirt."
"Thank you, Mother," Honey said softly, as she lowered herself onto the edge of the tub.
Trixie walked back into the living room to see two red heads in deep, quiet conversation. Sandwiched between the two, sitting on the sofa, was Sherlock, looking back and forth as the men carried on their discussion. The dog's head was swinging back and forth, like she was watching a tennis match. However, as soon as she sensed Trixie, the pup was off the sofa in a flash and across the room to greet her.
"So, have you two solved all the world's problems yet?" Trixie teased. "You always look so serious when you talk about anything. It must come from all the boardroom work, Matt."
"We figured we'd just be in the way, baby. How is Honey?" Jim asked.
Taking a thoughtful pause, she answered, "Honey got nauseous as she was resting and she wound up getting sick to her stomach. She has requested peach iced tea. I was going to see if she had any in the cupboards."
"If she doesn't, I'll run down to the corner market and get some," Jim volunteered.
After checking the kitchen, and not finding any of the requested tea, Trixie said, "I can't find any. Wanna take Sherlock for a walk with me and we can go get some?"
"Sure, let me get her leash. Sherlock, walk," Jim said, standing up, getting the leash and clipping it to Sherlock's pink collar. Bending his elbow towards Trixie, he said, "Shall we?"
Smiling sweetly at his antics, Trixie called over her shoulder to Matt, "We won't be long." She signaled to Wilson and opened the door. They walked down the brownstone's steps.
Holding tightly to the leash with his left hand, Jim twined the fingers of his right hand with Trixie's and said, "So, Shamus, why did we need to leave?"
Trixie smiled, grasped their joined hands with her free one and leaned into Jim's shoulder. "Can't get one past you, can I?"
"Hope not. So spill."
"I'm really worried about Honey. The headaches, dizziness and nausea have me concerned. So I wanted to get a medical opinion," Trixie admitted.
Jim squeezed their joined hands. "Going to call our resident Resident?"
"That was my plan. I know pediatrics is a far cry from neurology, but he's got to understand it better than I do," Trixie replied.
During their conversation, they had walked down the street and Trixie looked up to find that they were standing outside the mini-mart on the corner. Turning around, she saw Mr. Khan's newspaper stand. She was about to beg Jim to let her stay outside, when he said, "Sweetie, why don't you and Sherlock go talk to Mr. Khan and I'll run inside."
Trixie sighed, "Have I told you lately that I love you?" She stood on tiptoe and kissed him gently.
"You can tell me that anytime." Jim leaned down, cupped her cheek and kissed her deeply. "Be right back."
Trixie introduced herself to Mr. Khan, not only as Honey's long-time friend, but as a federal agent. Mr. Khan related the same information that Matt had shared over the phone the night before. He had seen an older two-door sedan drive out of the alley and go down the street. He thought it was silver and didn't get a license plate number. Trixie thanked him, and gave him her business card, requesting he call her if he should think of anything else.
Walking a short distance from the newspaper stand, she pulled her phone from her pocket and sat down on the steps of a nearby building. Hitting speed dial, she listened to the ringing, waiting for Brian to pick up.
"Dr. Belden."
"Dr. Belden, SA Belden."
Brian chuckled. "Sorry, sis. I didn't even look at the caller ID. What's up?"
Trixie wanted to blurt out, 'Honey's been hurt!', but she thought better of that. She decided to be purposefully vague. "Well, I need a little medical information...dumbed down, please...with as little medical mumbo jumbo as possible."
"OK, I'll try and give the Cliff's Notes version. What do you need to know?" Brian asked, smiling at the sense of humor of his younger sister.
"Well, what would be some typical after effects of head trauma?" Trixie asked.
Brian ran a hand through his thick hair. "Gosh, Trix, there's nothing typical about head trauma. A patient can present with anything from headaches to seizures." Knowing he'd get more information if he just let his sister do things her way, he refrained from asking more questions.
"What do your instincts say about a person who was knocked out, unconscious for a couple of hours, and now has headaches and has been nauseous?" Trixie posed.
"Let's see, you know it's all hypothetical without any other information. Each patient is different. But I would be more concerned with the current effects rather than those that presented immediately after the incident. Can I ask what the cause of the trauma was? Car accident?" Brian's brain was going a mile a minute trying to put the pieces together.
"No, not a car accident. Can I assume the violence of the trauma is proportional to the side effects? So someone who was, let's say, in a car accident might have more side effects than someone who fell and hit their head?" Trixie inquired.
The hairs on the back of Brian's neck began to stand on end, but he said calmly, "Again, not necessarily. OK, remember when you'd collect eggs. And you'd take the eggs and put them in the basket? You'd do it the same way every time, yet sometimes an egg would crack. You weren't rough, you didn't drop the basket. It was just that certain egg's shell didn't protect it as well as the others. Our brains are the same."
"That explains a lot about Mart," Trixie couldn't resist teasing. She bent down to give Sherlock's ear a scratch. "OK, so what I'm hearing is there are no typical aftereffects and it differs from person to person."
Jim came up and handed her a grocery bag and took Sherlock's leash. He gestured across the street to the small green space. Trixie nodded and blew a kiss to Jim. "Should I be worried about someone who, twenty-four hours after the trauma, is having headaches and nausea?"
There was a quaver in her voice that someone who didn't know her all her life might have missed, but not Brian. "Trix, who's hurt? What happened?" he asked in a gentle, yet persuasive voice.
She took a deep breath. "Honey was attacked yesterday. She lost consciousness for a short while. They released her from the hospital this morning. But she's still having headaches and she got sick to her stomach about a half hour ago."
"Oh my God. What happened? Did they catch the guy?" Brian stood up and began to pace the doctor's lounge.
"The police are still looking for him. Honey had a CT scan and the doctor said everything was OK, but I'm still worried,' Trixie admitted. "She's very pale and quiet."
Brian let out a pent up breath. "What else aren't you telling me?"
Trixie decided she needed to tell her oldest brother everything. "Honey's been getting threatening phone calls and text messages."
"How long, Trixie? How long has this been going on?" Brian said through clenched teeth.
"About three months." There was nothing else she could say. She knew how she would have felt if something had happened to Jim and no one told her. She also knew instinctively that Brian was hurt. He cared about Honey. Trixie knew that, even though they had never taken their friendship to a more personal level, they mattered to one another. Brian deserved all the facts. "At first the texts and calls were innocuous, but they started to develop in content and threat."
"Is there anything else?"
Trixie sighed. "Honey's noticed that small things are missing, but we're not sure they're related to this creep. He's never made any attempt to physically contact Honey that we are aware of, until yesterday."
"She's at home?" Brian asked, too quietly.
"Yes."
"OK, let me do a little research and clear up a few things. I'll call in a little while. For right now, let her rest but don't let her sleep too long. It's probably best if when she lies down, that she is slightly elevated, like a hospital bed would allow; like she would be doing if that inept doctor hadn't released her." The last was said under his breath, but Trixie could tell that her unflappable older brother wasn't as calm as he sounded.
"Thanks, Bri. Jim and I will be staying here in Ithaca until we decide what to do. Matt and Maddie are here, as well," Trixie said. "She's going to be OK, we'll make sure. It's what we do; we're Bob-Whites. Love you."
"Love you too. We'll talk soon. Bye."
"Bye." She waited until she heard Brian disconnect from the call. Sitting quietly on the steps, she sighed. How did things get so complicated? Twenty-four hours ago I was laying by a pool in Vermont.
Jim and Sherlock crossed the street. Holding his hand out, he said, "Let's go, Shamus. Sherlock and I had an idea. We need to go discuss it with the rest of The Hive."
"'The Hive?'" she asked, standing up and taking his hand.
"I was following the Bee theme. We're Honey's hive," Jim explained, swinging their joined hands as they climbed the stairs to the apartment.
"Jim Frayne?" Trixie said, stopping one step in front of him, placing her hands on his chest.
"Yes, sweetie."
"I. Love. You," she said, punctuating each word with a kiss.
He gazed at the beautiful blonde. "Love you. Now."
"Forever," Trixie injected.
"Always," Jim ended the conversation by capturing her mouth with hungry urgency. "Where are we staying?"
Trixie grinned wickedly. "The car?"
"No, not enough room." It began to drizzle again, as if the grey clouds were finally ready to release the rest of the pent-up rain. "Let's head in and we'll get it all figured out," Jim said, pulling her up the final two steps.
After making a batch of peach tea, Trixie poured some into glasses and carried the tray into the living room. The Hive, as Jim called it, was deep in discussion. Trixie had to snort at the new nickname. But, she reflected, it was an apt title. Honey was seated snuggly in the middle of the sofa, flanked by her parents. Jim had pulled up a chair close to their mother and was leaning in toward them. Honey was physically surrounded by her family, her hive.
Walking into the room with the tray of iced tea, she asked, in a very bad southern accent, "Would any of ya'll like some tay?"
Sherlock looked up from her comfy spot next to Honey and cocked her head at the strange voice coming from her mommy. "I know Sherlock; your momma's always been a little crazy," Honey teased.
"True, true, but we wouldn't want her any other way," Matt said, standing up before his son could. Taking the tray from her, he gestured to his now empty spot on the sofa. "Have a seat. We're trying to decide the best course of action." He placed the tray of iced tea on the coffee table and pulled up a chair.
Maddie gripped her daughter's hand tightly. "I think she should come back to the Manor House with us tonight. We can send movers to pack up your apartment."
"While I agree with you, Mother, that Honey would be safer in Sleepyside, I think it would be best for her to put closure on this part of her life. She's just finished with law school. She's getting ready to take the bar exam in July and she needs to finish out the last week of her internship at the law office," Jim reasoned. "I don't think Honey can just run away. It's just not her."
Maddie shook her head in denial. She started to open her mouth to protest, when Matt interjected, "Jim's right, dear. Honey needs to finish what she's started. But as the Bob-Whites have said over the years, 'Many hands make light work.' So, if we all pitched in, we could get her packed and back home. Besides, she has to be out of here in less than two weeks when her lease is up."
Honey looked at Trixie, who had been surprisingly silent. "What do you think, Trix?"
"Well, you know I'd love to say you'd be safe in Sleepyside. But we know that's where he first contacted you. He's going to follow you. We need to be prepared for that."
Wilson was leaning against the wall, listening to their conversation. Other people might feel like they were intruding on a private discussion. He didn't. He was paid to stick his nose, fists, or any other part of him anywhere necessary to protect a client. He was very good at his job. Unfortunately, he wasn't very tactful. "Agent Belden's right. The dude's not done. He's gonna be back." Wilson's gravelly voice shocked them.
Honey looked up and, as polite as ever, asked, "Wilson, would you like some iced tea?"
"No, thank you, Ms. Wheeler. I just wanted to update you. We got a call from Mr. Marlow. Looks like the car was a complete dead end. But the contents of the syringe turned out to be Versed. That means our guy is a doctor, dentist, vet or anyone who works in that kind of office who has access to the drug." Wilson pushed off the wall and crossed to the window. He looked outside and signaled to his associate in the park across the street. "I'm going to go out and confer with Jones to see if he's seen anything suspicious. Carmelita will stay inside here with you."
The mountain of a man walked gracefully out of the room, stopping at the guest room, he tapped on the door. "Chavez, I'm checking in with the tyro. See if the rookie's got anything besides a wet seat." He walked out the door and waited to hear the click of the lock.
After talking with his associate, who was assigned to the park across the street from Honey's brownstone, Wilson walked around the block, checking the perimeter of the area. Finding everything in place, he placed a call to Jason Marlow. "Just checking in, sir."
"How is Ms. Wheeler holding up?" Marlow asked.
"She's been with her family; resting, and generally taking it easy. She did get sick a bit earlier, but all in all she's doing well. Any prints on the syringe?"
"Nothing. Anything that might have been there was destroyed in the struggle. Have the Wheelers made a decision about what they want to do yet?" Marlow asked. "I told Matthew I'd call him tonight to find out what the next step is. But I want to know what my people on the scene think first."
Wilson leaned in a doorway, trying to stay dry. Out of habit he reached into his pocket for the pack of cigarettes that was no longer there. Even after five months, he still reached for a cigarette when he was stewing over a problem. "Well, the apartment here is secure, but Ms. Wheeler is going to get frustrated soon. I don't think we can keep her under wraps here for long. What do we know about this Trixie Belden?"
Jason Marlow rifled through folders on his desk, and pulled out one of the thicker ones, opened it and skimmed the contents. "She's been their neighbor since the Wheelers moved to Sleepyside. The kids all went to high school together. Did her undergraduate work at University of Virginia and roomed with Ms. Wheeler. After college she went to work for the FBI. She was at Quantico for two years, the academy and after that she was assigned to the field office there. Last year, she transferred to the field office in White Plains, New York. She's got a clean track record, been in on a few major cases. Great head on her shoulders, thinks well on her feet and could write her own ticket. But if I'm right, she'll finish her time with the FBI and then go into private security."
"Good to know. I got a good vibe from her. Think if Ms. Wheeler is with her, we won't have to worry so much," Wilson said, patting his pocket one last time, just in case a stray cigarette was hiding. "I'd better get back. Thanks for the intel. Talk to you soon." Putting his phone away, he jogged the last few yards in the drizzling mist.
Shortly after Wilson left, there was a knock on the front door. Jim, Trixie and Matt all stood and moved toward the entry hall. Carmelita Chavez was at the door, chain in place, and requesting ID from the people outside. After confirming their identities and cross-checking with the list of known persons, she removed the chain and stepped back from the doorway.
An older, white-haired gentleman in a suit walked into the apartment, followed closely by a younger man with light brown hair who was carrying a large bouquet of flowers. Seeing Trixie, flanked by the two redheaded men, Carmelita smiled. "Mr. Wheeler, Mr. Baxter and Mr. Roberts have been cleared. They are on the list."
"Matthew," the older man stuck his hand out and crossed the space to shake hands with the man on Trixie's right. "Let me introduce David Roberts. He's an intern at the same firm as Madeleine and my student aide. How is Madeleine? We've all been so worried. We just wanted to drop by and give her our best."
Matt shook Baxter's hand before turning to Roberts. He gestured toward his son. "Jared and David, this is my son Jim and his girlfriend, Trixie Belden."
"How do you do, sir?" Jim said shaking hands with the older man. "David."
"Nice to meet you both," Trixie said, as she studied the two men. "Won't you please come in? Honey is resting in the living room." She stood back and allowed the visitors to walk in before her. She followed closely behind.
Honey stood when they came into the room. "Professor Baxter, thank you for coming. You didn't have to. I'm fine."
Sherlock sat up on the couch by Maddie and made a low noise in her throat. She watched the men closely.
"Now, now, Madeleine. Of course I had to check on you. Roberts and I wanted to stop by and make sure you were all right," he said, as he moved close to pat Honey on the shoulder.
The dog growled deeply in her throat, stopping Baxter in his tracks.
"Thank you so much for coming, Jared," Maddie said from her place on the couch, as she put a calming hand on her granddog. "Matthew and I appreciate you looking after our girl."
An uncomfortable tenseness filled the small living room. They made a strange tableau, the two honey-haired women looking so much alike and the normally calm dog on alert.
David Roberts' loud gasp filled the quiet room as he turned toward the room from talking to Jim. His face blushed, as he looked from daughter to mother and back again. "I didn't realize the two of you looked so much alike," he said, surprised.
As he moved near the couch, Sherlock's sharp bark startled everyone. Honey resumed her seat by her mother and urged the dog into her lap. "We hear that all the time but I'm not nearly as pretty as Mother," Honey said with a smile. "Mother, this is David Roberts."
The young man advanced with his hand outstretched to shake Maddie's hand. As Baxter shifted closer to a chair next to Maddie to clear a path, Sherlock stood up, then started barking and growling. Her hackles rose up along her back.
"Sherlock, quiet!" Jim commanded from across the room.
Honey and Maddie both placed their hands on the dog to try to calm and relax her defensive posture.
Jim walked toward the dog. "Sherlock, quiet!"
Wilson and Carmelita appeared in the doorway to the room. They quickly assessed that there was no current danger, but the dog was obviously upset.
"What happened?" Wilson asked.
"Sherlock, quiet," Jim tried again.
The dog immediately stopped barking and sat on the couch between Honey and Maddie.
"I've never seen her react like that before and I've definitely never seen her ignore Jim's command," Matt said, confused.
"She's always responded immediately. Even when she was a puppy," Trixie added.
Jim moved near his mother at the end of the couch studying the dog's demeanor. "I think she's just trying to protect Honey. She probably senses that Honey doesn't feel well."
Trixie's brow furrowed as she looked from Professor Baxter to David Roberts. "Sherlock is a bit possessive of family. If you keep your distance, I'm sure she won't bark anymore."
"That's understandable," David replied with a frown, as he stood close to the doorway. Watching the dog closely, he added, "Though we would never do anything to hurt Madeleine."
"I'm glad you stopped by, Jared," Matt remarked, as he seated himself on the other side of Honey. "Honey was going to call you later this evening to let you know that she'll be leaving town with us the day after tomorrow to return to home. She mentioned a few things she has to do before she leaves but we think it's best she return to the Manor House to begin her rest and recovery as soon as possible."
Professor Baxter's brow puckered at Matt before swinging his eyes to Honey. He demanded sharply, "What do you mean 'leaving town'? Aren't you going to stay another two weeks and train David on the research you've been doing for me, Madeleine?"
Honey grimaced at his loud tone and placed a hand to her temple. "Professor, please lower your voice," she requested quietly. "According to the doctor, I am supposed to be on full rest for two weeks or longer depending on the recommendation of our family physician. David is fully trained on all aspects of my research work for you and the firm. We've been going over the information and status of the research and he is ready to take over. All I have to do is give him the current paperwork and one last quick review of the file locations."
"Roberts, is that true?" Baxter asked of the younger man. "Are you ready to take over?"
The intern's gray eyes shifted between Baxter and Honey. "Yes, sir. I just need one more day with Madeleine and then I think I'll have everything I need."
"If you're sure, then we'll let Madeleine go, so she can get well again," Baxter conceded. "I think we should let you rest now, my dear. We'll see you tomorrow at the office at 9:30."
Roberts hesitated before following Baxter to the doorway. "Yes, we'll see you tomorrow, Madeleine. Rest well."
"Thank you," Honey replied. "I'll see you both tomorrow."
"I'll show you out," Carmelita said, as she motioned her arm toward the doorway and followed them out of the room.
As the front door closed, Trixie moved quickly to the front window and looked out. She raised her smartphone and snapped several quick pictures then keyed the license plate numbers and vehicle descriptions into a note.
"Did you get everything?" Jim asked as he joined her at the window to watch Baxter and Roberts leave.
"One sec, Jim," she muttered as she finished noting the make and model of Baxter's vehicle. She turned as the two PIs reentered the room and walked to the desk where she'd left her laptop. "Everyone take a seat," she requested, as she turned the desk chair toward the assembled group.
"Trixie, why are you being so Agatha Christie all of a sudden?" Maddie asked, eyebrows raised over twinkling eyes.
The young blonde blushed prettily. "It's like this," she began. "In the past hour, I've noticed some unusual happenings and I want to make sure we know everything there is to know before any decision is made about Honey's welfare."
"I agree that we need a full review of everything from the beginning up to the minute," Wilson agreed. "I think our files and information records aren't complete."
"I'm up to date so I think I need to go find a place for Trixie and me to spend the night," Jim interjected. "I would like to go over what we've learned since Trixie and I arrived though." From his position on the arm of the couch, he leaned over to pet Sherlock. "I've never seen our girl bark at someone or not obey my command. She was obviously upset about Baxter, Roberts and their movements," he announced. "I don't think it was because of Honey being upset. I think she sensed something."
"Oh, Jim," Honey sighed quietly. "I've worked with Professor Baxter for three years and David for the past year. I've never had a worry or an issue with them at all."
Trixie tilted her head to look at her friend. "Honey, I can't disagree with your statement. I know how you've enjoyed working with the Professor, but you did mention that David kept asking you out."
Honey's face flushed with irritation. "I don't find it frightening that someone thought that I was interesting enough to ask me out on a date," she snapped. "I just think he was overly persistent about it and wouldn't take no for an answer. I only relented once, just after Christmas. His parents were in town for the day and I went with them to a Mexican place for lunch," she finished.
Trixie rushed to Honey and hugged her gently. "Honey, I didn't mean that it was strange that someone asked you out, only that David kept asking and asking and asking..."
"And asking," Honey giggled. "Yeah, he was getting on my last nerve."
"Anyone who is around you is lucky, but to be allowed to date you," Trixie affirmed. "That guy better be perfectly perfect."
Matt snorted. "She's not dating or marrying anyone. She's my little girl and always will be," he growled. "I have a cabinet full of hunting rifles. No guy is getting past me to my baby daughter."
"Gee, Dad," Jim said with a frown on his face, but a twinkle in his eye. "You didn't try to defend my honor."
"Well, hell, son," Matt laughed. "You came into the family because of the love of your life and your sister. Your mother and I didn't have anything to say about it," he added with a chuckle.
"Yeah, Jim," Trixie giggled. "You were the one who pulled a shotgun on me."
Wilson and Carmelita smiled at each other as the family teased and laughed. Wilson loudly cleared his throat. "Uh, folks, I think we need to get back on the subject," he requested. "If Sherlock here felt there was a threat to Ms. Wheeler by one of our visitors, we need to see what that might be." The large man turned to address Trixie. "Ms. Belden, did you get all the vehicle information about our guests?"
Trixie had returned to the desk and was typing into her laptop. "Yes, Wilson, I got it all. I'm entering the data into the system now to get the information I can from the network. I've also sent everything we know about the two of them to Cooper to have him run some checks." She clicked "send" and launched the information into cyberspace. "He'll get back to us soon. In the meantime," she added, as she typed. "Professor Baxter drives a gray-blue Aston Martin DB9. He must want to give the impression he's James Bond," she giggled when she heard Honey and everyone laugh. "And as before, he is just squeaky clean in all major databases."
"I don't think that there is anything to worry about with Jared," Matt said gruffly. "Maddie and I have known him for years. We knew him even before we adopted Jim and worked with Rainsford and Reynolds." He exchanged a worried look with Maddie. "Of course, I don't think we can rule out anyone yet."
"Well, this is interesting," Trixie said thoughtfully. "There's a Baxter from Ithaca on Facebook named Sam. He says he's the professor's son and a veterinary assistant for the Ithaca Veterinary Center." She glanced up to look around the room. "That's like a physician's assistant. He can treat and perform minor surgery on animals which means he'd have access to the drug Versed."
"But, baby, it doesn't mean that his father can get it from him or the center," Jim reasoned.
"I'm with Daddy, Trixie," Honey said softly, as she leaned her head back on the couch and rubbed her forehead. "I just don't see Professor Baxter as a text stalker, either," she added. "He's doesn't know how to do anything on his smartphone other than make a call and half the time, he can't manage that."
"What does your magic machine say about David, Trixie?" Maddie asked.
Keying in the data she had, Trixie replied, "His metallic grey Honda Civic Coupe is registered to his parents. Nothing special about him other than that juvy record that shows expunged. It could be an event like Dan's, nothing at all or something worse. I asked Cooper to check into him some more."
Carmelita turned crossways in the chair, placed one of her long legs over an arm and then draped her arm over the other. "No offense but he seems pretty weak to me. I mean all the mutt did was bark and he was screaming like a little girl."
"Do not call Sherlock a mutt, dear," Maddie said icily, as she watched the woman. "Please sit up and pay attention to the discussion or I'm sure that Jason Marlow can find a case more suited to your interests." As Carmelita hurriedly sat up straight in the chair, Maddie requested, "Continue, Trixie."
She fought back a smile as she moved to another webpage on the laptop. "Roberts' Facebook page shows he has a father, Thomas, who is an oral surgeon. His mother, Pam, is a lawyer and one brother, Eric, who is around ten."
"Lots of opportunity there to get the syringe of Versed," Wilson remarked with a frown.
"Wilson, please tell me what this drug would do to someone," Maddie said with a shudder.
"Mrs. Wheeler, if you were injected with the drug in the prescribed amount, you would experience drowsiness. It is used to relieve anxiety or prevent the memory of a procedure such as a colonoscopy," he replied. "It's not lethal unless administered improperly; you have a heart condition or some other condition that would interact with the drug."
Matt slapped the arm of his chair. "I'm just damn glad that son of a –"
"Matthew…" Maddie bit out.
He sighed heavily and looked at Maddie, then Honey. "Sorry, dear. I'm just glad that syringe was dropped, instead of used."
Jim stood and moved to stand by Trixie. "I think you should start over at the beginning and run through everything again while I go find us that room."
"There is a B&B just down the street on the other side. It's by the pizza place," Carmelita said, attempting to be helpful. "About a block away, so it's in walking distance."
"Thanks," Jim replied. "I think I'll walk down and check it out before looking for another place. I'll be back shortly," he added, as he leaned over, placed a gentle kiss on Trixie's lips and walked out the door.
Trixie smiled at the occupants of the room. "OK, let's start at the beginning…."