Once he had turned Jim over to the doctors and nurses, Peter had called the Wheelers, who were on their way, and Helen to let her know what had happened and that he would not be home until much later. He then called the police to report the hit and run. Sergeant Molinson was on his way to the hospital to take Jim's statement. When a nurse came out of the small office Jim had entered and beckoned to Peter, he followed her to the front desk.
"Are you related to the young man you brought in?"
"No. He's the son of the Wheelers, friends of ours who live up the hill, off of Glen Road. Jim's friends with my kids, so when I saw him out on the road at night by himself, I stopped."
The nurse smiled kindly. "He's doing just fine. The doctor says he has a mild concussion, some road burn on his knees and elbows, and he needed a couple of stitches. When his parents get here, he can be released. Would you like to wait with him for them to arrive?"
Peter nodded. "Of course!"
He followed the nurse into the room, closing the door behind him to preserve what he could of Jim's dignity. The young man sitting on the bed looked impossibly young, clad in a hospital gown. His ripped jeans and shirt lay in a pile on the floor, and his elbows and knees were bandaged.
"Mr. Belden? You stayed? Where are the Wh - my parents?"
Peter didn't miss Jim's slight stumble over his words. It had to be an adjustment for the boy. "On their way right now. I told Matthew to bring you something to wear."
Jim glanced at the bloodstained jeans and shirt and grimaced. "Thank you, sir. For everything."
The sight of the usually confident and outgoing teenager in such a vulnerable state pulled at all of Peter's fatherly instincts. Outrage filled him again. Why, it could have been Brian, Mart, Trixie, or Bobby hit by the car! What kind of a sorry excuse for a human being hit a kid with a car and drove away? The very thought made his blood boil all over again.
He laid a fatherly hand on Jim's shoulder. "You're very welcome. I talked to Sergeant Molinson. He and Spider Webster are on their way to talk to you. I'll stay and answer anything I can."
The police arrived before the Wheelers because the police station was a block away from the hospital, and the Wheelers had to come all the way from Glen Road.
When Spider entered the room, he went to shake Jim's good hand and glanced around the room. "Glad to see you're not hurt too badly, Jim. And you got into a situation all on your own without Trixie, huh?"
At this, Jim managed a weak grin. "Yeah, apparently I can get into a situation all on my own. Who knew?"
Peter moved aside to get out of the way as the two officers asked him questions and wrote down his answers. It was then that he noticed how tense the teenager was as he tried to remember anything he could about the car. Jim prided himself on his skills and intelligence, and he knew that his time with Jones had left him with a tendency toward perfectionism. He had counseled Brian when he needed to vent some of his anger at what had happened to his friend. Knowing that there was someone out there evil enough to hurt a good kid like Jim made Peter angry. He resolved mentally to talk to Matthew and Madeleine about Jim's fears about moving away for college. He wasn't sure the young man would be able to bring it up on his own, and the kid had had enough stress in his life.
Jim's frustration at his own inability to remember every detail of the car that had struck him was evident.
"I just can't remember exactly what it looked like! I'm pretty sure it was a sedan, but ... man, I wish I had a memory like Trixie's!"
At this, Molinson snorted. "Don't be silly, son. That mind of hers gets her into more trouble than it's worth! No offense to you, Peter. You must have your hands full raising that one!"
Peter shook his head with a smile. "She does keep us busy."
At that moment, the Wheelers arrived. Matthew raced to Jim's side and turned his adopted son's face toward the light to inspect the damage. Madeleine rang for the nurse to come and asked her to fetch the doctor.
Satisfied that Jim was not in any immediate danger, Matthew sat down and addressed Peter. "How can I even begin to thank you for seeing him and stopping?"
"No thanks are necessary, Matt. You would do the same for any one of mine."
Matthew nodded. "Of course. Maddie, when is that doctor coming?"
Madeleine stood at the side of Jim's bed and took his hand gently. "On his way, Matthew. The nurse has gone to fetch him." She ran a hand through her son's red hair, avoiding the bandaged area, and then planted a kiss on his forehead. "I just can't believe someone would - would hit you with a car! We're so glad you're safe, Jim."
Jim blushed slightly, embarrassed at the attention, but clearly enjoying it. Peter's heart went out to the boy, and he was glad he was getting and accepting the attention he needed from his new family.
"There's a madman on the roads, gentlemen!" Matthew Wheeler addressed Molinson and Webster. "Keep us in the loop with your investigation. I mean to see to it that whoever did this loses their drivers' license for a good long while!"
On his way to home to Crabapple Farm, Peter was not even a little bit surprised to see the glow of flashlights in the shrubbery near where he had found Jim earlier. At the sound of his approaching car, the lights quickly winked out. He pulled over and stepped out of the car.
"Trixie!"
A flashlight beam pointed toward him.
"Dad?"
Peter laughed. "I might have known I'd find you here. I take it your mother told you what happened?"
He watched as his blond-haired daughter climbed her way out of the roadside ditch, a sheepish smile on her pretty face. She was wearing torn jeans, a t-shirt, old moccassins, and she had twigs stuck in her curly hair. Peter couldn't bring himself to be angry with her.
"Who else is with you. Honey, I presume?"
Two figures rose out of the shadow, and two more flashlights winked on. It was Honey Wheeler, looking as disheveled as his daughter, and Dan Mangan.
"It's eleven o'clock at night. I'm willing to not rat anyone out, but you're all getting in the car with me. I'm not leaving you out here at a crime scene!"
When Honey and Dan had joined them on the pavement, Peter shook his head. "I might have known I'd find Trixie here, and where there's a Trixie, there's often a Honey. However, I'm surprised to find you out here, Dan. How did they convince you? I thought you were sleeping over to go to that college fair with Mart and Brian in the morning."
Dan shrugged apologetically. "I couldn't let Trixie and Honey go by themselves. I couldn't sleep for Mart's snoring, and Brian is still up reading." He flashed Peter a grin. "And I was just about as curious as the girls - I wanted to see if I could notice any clues before they did!"
"And did you?" Peter asked.
"Maybe. I'm not quite sure ... we only just got here. We haven't found much of anything yet."
There was something about the way Dan had said, "much" that intrigued Peter.
"So ... what have you kids found?"
Honey began babbling happily about a tire skid mark, while Trixie began pulling on his arm to show him something else. Dan's usually solemn face lit up with excitement as he started in about a smell that reminded him of something else.
So it was that Peter Belden, respected banker and father of four, found himself sliding down a roadside ravine at 11 o'clock at night in his good work pants.
Trixie's blond curls quivered and bounced with excitement in the weird light of the flashlights as she tugged on her father's arm, explaining hurriedly, "We found the skid marks by the ditch, and we were pretty sure it was the right spot because they're fresh." She held up her hand, indicating her dirty fingers. "See?"
She continued. "From the size and shape of the tread, Dan was able to tell that the car was most likely a fairly new sedan."
Peter didn't want to think about what kinds of experiences had left Dan with that level of knowledge. From the way the teenager lowered his head at Trixie's proud proclamation, he must have felt embarrassed about it too.
Trixie shined her flashlight at a metallic object in the grass. It was a side mirror from a vehicle. Peter crouched beside it, squinting at it in the limited light.
"This is from an older car - almost as old as Brian's jalopy. And it's nearly the same color as the ground. Trixie, how did you ever spot this?"
His daughter shrugged. "I just ... did. I saw a dark bump and shined my light at it, and there it was."
"Not much escapes the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency," Dan stated proudly. "I kind of want to hide a needle in a haystack and time them."
At this, Peter laughed. "No one touched anything here, did they?"
Honey shook her head. "Of course not, Mr. Belden! We didn't want to contaminate the evidence!" She smiled. "So we now have reason to believe that my brother got hit by an old car with new tires. That might help the police narrow it down, right?"
"Of course it will. Why don't you kids get on back to the car? We can call the police to report your findings when we get back to the farm."
Trixie and Honey scrambled up the hill, still turning theory after theory over as they bounced ideas off of each other and went on excitedly. Dan hung back, clearly waiting to say something.
"Mr. Belden?"
"Yes?"
"That smell ... it was marijuana. I didn't want to say it in front of the girls."
The dark-haired boy was looking down again. It was obvious that he was ashamed of even knowing what it was, let alone what it smelled like. Peter sighed. He was getting to use every last one of the fathering skills he had been practicing for the last seventeen years tonight.
"Dan - that part of your life is past, we all know that. It doesn't mean that you have to be ashamed of any knowledge you have from before you came to Sleepyside. It may surprise you to know that I attended business school at NYU as a much younger man, and was a member of a fraternity at college. I know what marijuana is and what it smells like as well. I appreciate your discretion with Trixie and Honey, but don't be afraid to let your experience be a teacher, not something you hide from."
Peter got the feeling that if Dan could implode into himself like a black hole and disappear, he would. He sighed, making a mental note to talk to Bill Regan about his nephew's insecurities. And, he found himself wondering what kinds of things his own sons had talked about with other people's fathers. He knew that Bobby had confided in Ed Lynch about being bullied at school. Hmm. For that matter, he remembered feeling more comfortable discussing his future plans for finding a job with Helen's uncle than he had with his own father. Maybe some of it is just natural. Maybe it's easier to hear advice when it isn't from someone with any actual authority over you.