Chapter Three
The rain had stopped by the time Jim walked across the street toward Honey's apartment. As he reached the curb, the door opened and Trixie came bounding down the stairs, stopping on the last step. She placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned toward him to hear what the results were.
Jim's hands found their way to Trixie's hips and pulled her close. He assumed a pouting face as he spoke. "Trix, I'm sorry, baby, but the B&B down the street doesn't have two rooms. All that was available was the honeymoon suite. King bed, double size claw foot tub and a giant shower. I took it, but only because I didn't want us to have to sleep in the SUV. I hope you can stand to stay in the same room with me," he said in a forlorn voice.
She leaned in for a quick kiss. "It'll be rough but I think I can handle it. I promise to do my best to not compromise your innocence any more than six times tonight," she answered with a waggle of her eyebrows.
"I'll hold you to that." Jim grinned at her, and then swiftly kissed her. "The only down side is that Sherlock can't stay with us. She'll have to spend the night at Honey's. The owner doesn't allow dogs. Since it was only for a couple of nights and it gets us just down the street from here, I didn't think it would be a problem. I don't want to tote the luggage down the street. There is off-street parking behind the B&B. Ride along with me?"
"Anywhere," she whispered with a soft kiss on his lips.
Escorting her down the stairs, Jim settled Trixie in to the passenger seat before he moved around the hood to sit behind the wheel.
"It's been too long. Come here, you," Jim growled, as he pulled her toward him for a lengthy, passionate kiss.
A pair of sharp knocks on the window broke the magic of the kiss. Jim and Trixie jumped apart as they turned to see who had knocked.
Putting down the window, Jim said quietly, "Yes, Officer, what can I do for you?"
The Ithaca Police Officer stood looking between Jim and Trixie as if to size them up as criminals. Placing his hands on his gun and equipment belt, he said kindly, "I need you folks to move on along. This isn't that kind of 'parking' spot." As he watched the pair blush, he added with a wink, "There are some nice hotels just down the street."
Trixie noticed Jim's neck turning red, meaning his redheaded temper was getting ready to surface. "Sure, Officer Brown," she said, noting his name tag. "We need to get moving anyway. You have a nice day."
Trixie slid back into the passenger's seat and fastened her seatbelt. Jim put the SUV in gear and pulled away from the curb.
As soon as they were out of the officer's sight, they broke out in laughter.
As Jim moved to the back of the SUV to unload their luggage, a sudden frown appeared on his lips.
"Is everything OK, Jim?" Trixie touched Jim's arm, getting his attention.
"Wha-?" Jim sputtered. "What were you saying?"
"I was asking what you thought about Sherlock barking and going nuts when David Roberts and Jared Baxter came into Honey's place. I've never seen her act like that with anyone," Trixie replied.
"I was a million miles away thinking about Honey. I'm really worried about her," Jim replied, as he handed her a bag to carry and closed the cargo area. "As for Sherlock's barking, maybe she just feels our tension and distrust. I don't know. She sure didn't want to leave Honey's side. Let's get settled in our room before dinner. We have a couple of hours. Do you want to take a nap?" he asked blinking his eyes innocently.
Trixie grabbed his hand, looked both ways and briskly walked to the bed and breakfast. "After," she giggled with a waggle of her eyebrows.
"Here we go, room 4. You take the key and I'll get our bags." He handed her the card and picked up the bag. "Over there on the right, Trix."
Trixie passed the electronic key card through the reader, red light. She tried it again, red light. "It's not working."
Jim put the bags down, leaned in, and took the card from Trixie. He stretched his arm out and tried the key in the lock. As he was reaching across her, Trixie couldn't resist nipping his ear lobe. Jim, not expecting to be bitten, jumped and dropped the key card.
He turned his head and raised one ginger brow. "You wanna play, do you?" He moved forward, forcing Trixie back into the wall, trapping her with his arms on either side. Jim molded his muscular body to hers, ensnaring her so she couldn't escape. He slowly, deliberately, moved toward her pink lips.
Trixie bit her lower lip, breathing rapidly, anticipating Jim's kiss. Her breasts were heaving against his chest. He stopped a hairsbreadth from Trixie's trembling lips. Jim watched as she ran the tip of her tongue slightly over her upper lip. Her breathing hitched as Jim tilted his head slightly and claimed her lips in a slow passionate kiss. Sliding between her parted lips, Jim deliberately sought her tongue with his, completing his sweet invasion. He lightly sucked on her bottom lip, pulling away gently.
This kiss was absolutely sexual. Trixie was literally shaking. She was grateful that she was leaning against the wall. Her knees were in danger of buckling and she could clearly feel the evidence of Jim's arousal pressing into her core. Jim's eyes had darkened and his pupils were huge. Trixie couldn't look away; it was if she was frozen in place.
Jim was leaning in for a second assault on her senses, when from behind they heard, "Ahem! Um, Mr. Frayne, sorry to, um, interrupt, but I, um, realized that I gave you the wrong key card. I tried, um, to catch you, but, um, I missed you. Thought it, um, would be best if I brought it up to you. Um, again, um, I'm sorry for the interruption, sir. Here," the young, blushing, desk clerk said, handing Jim the new key card.
Jim bent down to pick up the key card that didn't work. "Thanks for bringing up the new card. We were having a hard time with this one." Trixie snorted at the comment and took the new keycard from Jim. She squirmed past him, unlocked the door, and quickly escaped into the room, laughing hysterically. Jim reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of bills and folded them up and handed them to the young man along with the non-working key card. "Thanks again."
As the nervous desk clerk escaped, Jim picked up the overnight bags and pushed open the door. Trixie was standing next to the king-sized bed, her left hand over her mouth, trying unsuccessfully to keep the laughter from escaping. "So, Shamus, you found something funny?" Jim asked, tossing the overnight bags onto the floor, his eyes narrowing under raised brows, a smirk curling on the right side of his face.
Trixie should have recognized that look. It was same one Jim had when challenged to basketball in Iowa. The same look he had when Nick Roberts had asked Trixie to her Junior Prom. The same look when his high school counselor said there was no way he could complete a double major in just four years. It was his 'I've got a point to prove' look. She stuck her right arm out in front of her, as if that was going to stop the redhead from his mission. Jim charged. He wrapped his arms around Trixie's middle and they toppled onto the bed, laughing.
Jim twisted before hitting the bed so he took the brunt of the fall. He looked up into sapphire blue eyes, bright with laughter. Trixie tossed her head back and laughed. "Let me up you goof! Remember, I had all that iced tea at Honey's."
Two hours later, Jim's emerald eyes twinkled and he hid a smile behind his napkin as he watched his elegant mother slip Sherlock a piece of pizza crust off her plate. Muffled giggles from Trixie and Honey let him know that they had seen the sleight of hand as well.
"So, we are all agreed," Wilson said, drawing everyone's attention back to the discussion of Honey's safety. "Ms. Wheeler doesn't go anywhere without Carmelita, Agent Belden or me. Tomorrow, we'll take Ms. Wheeler to her office so she can finish her data transfer and then we pack up and head to Sleepyside where we'll have lots of backup and home court advantage."
Matt nodded. "Yes. Between the local police, the Bob-Whites, our household staff and your agency, we'll have better protection for Honey than we do here."
"We need to see if Chief Molinson and Dan can help lay a trap," Trixie suggested. "I think we need to call the Bob-Whites and let them know what's happening, anyway."
Honey laid her head onto her father's shoulder and sighed. "I hate to worry them about this," she began, then yawned. "I'm tired. I think I'll lie down for a bit," she finished, as she stood up and walked slowly down the hall holding her head.
Sherlock hopped down from beside Maddie and hurried after her.
Trixie pressed the key on her cell phone to end the call to Mart, Di and Dan. She sat beside Jim on the sofa, waiting impatiently until Matt disconnected his call to Chief Molinson.
"Wendell will have extra patrols around the estate until Honey's attacker is captured. He was going to talk to Cooper to get as many details as he can so he can do his own research," Matt advised. "He'll take some deputies to check things out at home and then discuss things with Regan, Margery and the rest of the staff."
Trixie leaned into Jim's side and tucked her feet under her. "I called Mart. Di and Dan were with him so I got three Bob-Whites with one call," she giggled at her own comment. "Dan and Bonnie are coming up tomorrow with Jim's SUV to pick up any boxes we need to bring. Tom and Regan will be in the limo. That means we can return the rentals and ride home in style, plus they can be extra muscle for lifting boxes."
"Perfect," Maddie enthused, clapping her hands. "Let's work on packing up all of Honey's personal items so we can take them back with us," she added, rising out of the chair. "It won't take us long. What do you think, Trixie?"
Jumping up from the sofa, Trixie nodded. "An excellent idea, Maddie. We need to do something proactive for a change. We'll let Carmelita know. You guys can tell Wilson that we're heading home tomorrow evening." She leaned in to give Jim a quick kiss. "Be back soon."
"OK," Jim answered with a smile as he stood up beside her. "While you and Mom figure out where to start, Dad and I will get the boxes and start putting them together. If you need anything else, let us know," he said, swatting her lightly on her seat.
Rising on tip-toes, eyes sparkling with a wicked light that he had already come to want to see often, she kissed him with a promise. "I need everything from you, Frayne," she whispered in his ear, nipping his lobe. "As often as possible."
"You got it, babe," he murmured back. Smiling devilishly, he watched her hurry after his mother.
Trixie and Maddie surveyed the contents of Honey's kitchen cabinets that they had placed on the island bar. There was eight of everything a person would need to set a table lined up on the surface. Beside the plates, glasses, bowls and mugs were the few pots, pans, utensils and assorted cooking bowls a single person would use.
"I think we can get all this in three boxes to be shipped," Trixie said, putting the last of the canned goods on the counter under the cabinet holding spices. "She mentioned that she's giving all the foodstuffs to her neighbors that live below her. Since she'll be living back at the Manor House, I can't see that she'll need cans of soup of her own." Turning the can to read the contents, she commented, "This one looks like it might be good though. Barley, mutton, pieces of carrots and potatoes in a hearty stock."
"It does sound good," Maddie agreed, looking at the can Trixie held. "It's an American company but it shows that it's imported from Canada. Let's put these cans with Honey's dishes and take it home with us or have some with grilled cheese sandwiches tomorrow."
"Great idea," she responded, moving the cans to the other counter.
"Hu-hum," a throat cleared behind them.
Turning, they saw Carmelita in the doorway.
"Excuse me, Mrs. Wheeler. May I speak candidly with you and Ms. Belden about something?" Carmelita asked politely. She knew she'd gotten off on the wrong foot with these people and wanted to make sure she didn't screw up again.
"Certainly," Maddie said, motioning toward the table. "Trixie and I were just about to take a break and drink a glass of tea anyway."
Trixie quirked a brow at her friend, then selected three of the glasses and filled them with ice and tea, as the other women waited at the table. She carefully set the tea down on the table before taking the chair next to Maddie.
The bodyguard took a sip of the tea, looking nervously between the two other women at the table. "Mrs. Wheeler, Wilson and I have been with your daughter since the attack," she informed. "She hasn't been away from one or the other of us."
"We appreciate you and Wilson getting to her so quickly and staying with her constantly," Maddie assured her. "We certainly didn't think that she wouldn't be safe in her own home. Is there a problem?"
Carmelita shifted nervously in her chair as she traced the condensation running down the outside of her glass. "At the hospital, she had some horrible nightmares where she screamed out 'leave me alone', 'don't touch me' and 'stay away'." Her dark concerned eyes watched the reaction to her words. "Even under sedation she kept muttering and making frightened noises."
"The doctors didn't say anything about that," Maddie responded. "Neither did the nurses," she added with a concerned look at Trixie.
"She's actually been having the nightmares for a while," Carmelita said quietly. "Wilson interviewed the neighbors below and above after we got back here. They told him that she'd cry out loud enough that she'd wake them. They'd call her to make sure she was OK. The Clark family that lives in the basement apartment even came up here a couple of times to check on her."
"She never said a word," Trixie said, turning worried blue eyes to look at Maddie. "I wonder if we know everything."
"I do, too," Maddie agreed with a frown.
Carmelita stood then walked to the hall closet. Opening the door, she pulled a shoebox off the shelf and returned to the kitchen. "I found this when we ran the security sweep on the apartment," she said quietly. "A shoebox in the front hall closet struck me as something out of the ordinary for a person like Ms. Wheeler. When we check out a client's home, we always make sure that no threats have been placed there by whoever is after them. I opened the box and saw these." She pushed the box toward Maddie and Trixie.
Trixie cautiously lifted the lid from the box revealing several colorful envelopes and florist envelopes. Each envelope was addressed to Madeleine Wheeler either typewritten or using letters cut out of a newspaper. "Have you looked at these?" she asked, shaking the box slightly to see more of the contents.
"Yes, Wilson and I looked at them," Carmelita answered. "We are extremely concerned about them. There are no overt threats. Only comments about how Ms. Wheeler would soon be with whoever sent them. Each of them calls her Madeleine, instead of Honey like you all do. When we asked Ms. Wheeler about the contents she ran her fingers through them and said that she'd talk to Ms. Belden about them."
Trixie pulled a letter out of an envelope and began to read it. "This is done entirely in words cut from either a magazine or the paper. Look at this, Maddie," she urged, moving the paper in front of them both. "He calls her Madeleine through the entire letter but it goes from talking about her beauty to ranting about her leaving."
"Oh, my God. Trixie, look right here," she cried, pointing to low on the page.
iF I CaN't HAVe YoU, No OnE caN!
"That's definitely a threat," Trixie growled. "We need to find this guy." She quickly scanned the rest of the letter.
A terrifying scream broke the silence in the kitchen. Sherlock's sharp barks intermingled with the piercing shriek.
Feet thundered from the living room toward the back of apartment.
Trixie, Maddie and Carmelita jumped up quickly, their chairs falling over behind them. They hurried down the hall to Honey's bedroom.
Pushing past Wilson, who stood in the doorway, Maddie and Trixie stopped abruptly. Matt held his sobbing daughter tightly in his arms, rubbing a hand up and down her back and murmuring soothing words.
Jim stood near the bed, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists as he watched his sister cry.
"Oh, my darling," Maddie cried, hurrying to gather Honey in her arms.
"Mom," she blubbered. "It was just a nightmare. This is so embarrassing," she sniffed.
Matt kissed her gently on the forehead. "Sweetheart, we'll leave you with your mother and Trixie. I suggest you tell them about the nightmare," he advised. "Maybe if you talk about it, then you won't have it again." He gave her a brief hug and stood. "Let's go do some more packing."
Wilson and Carmelita followed Matt from the room but Jim lingered at the door by Trixie.
"See if you can find out what is going on with her," he whispered. "I'm worried."
"I'll do my best, Jim. Now shoo. Your mom and I have work to do," she replied softly, urging him gently toward the door. "I love you," she added, blowing him a kiss as she shut the door on him.
Honey blew her nose and mopped at her face, as her mother fetched a wet washcloth.
Trixie walked to the bed and crawled over her friend's legs to sit cross-legged on the other side of her. Sherlock hopped onto the bed and lay close with her head on Honey's leg. Maddie returned holding out the wet cloth as she perched on the edge of the bed, on Honey's other side.
"Spill it, Wheeler," Trixie ordered gently.
Honey flashed an irritated look at her best friend. "I keep having nightmares about the attack," she sighed, folding and unfolding the cloth nervously. "Except instead of just getting knocked out, I dream that he shoots me full of some drug that kills or damages me."
"Sweetheart, we saw the box of cards and letters," her mother said softly. "Why didn't you tell us or go to the police?"
Honey ran one hand across Sherlock's glossy coat and traced the pattern of the quilt covering her bed with the other. She didn't want to answer her mother but knew she had to tell them the reason. "I thought I could get home before anything happened and I'd be safe," she whispered.
"Oh, Honey," Trixie faltered, looking to Maddie for the right words.
"Darling, even if all we can do is listen, you need to share your worries and fears with the people that love you," her mother advised.
"She's right, you know," Trixie agreed softly. "We could have reported the calls, texts, cards and letters to the police, too. They could have examined the envelopes and cards for fingerprints and started an investigation file. Your dad could have had Carmelita and Wilson here sooner." She picked up her friend's hand and squeezed it. "But mostly, we could have been here for you and shared the worries. You know our saying of 'many hands make light work'? Well, in this case, it could be many worriers make anyone who tries anything against one of us light in the brain."
Her best-friend smiled and then giggled. "Oh, Trix," she cried, grabbing her friend for a quick hug before turning to her mother and launching herself into her arms.
"Sweetheart," Maddie murmured. "We'll get through this together," she crooned, rocking her daughter gently.
Trixie's eyes filled with tears. "I'm going to go make sure Jim and Matt are packing the boxes correctly. You two come out when you're ready."
Honey nodded against her mother's shoulder.
"We'll be out in a bit, dear," Maddie replied, smoothing Honey's hair back with a gentle hand.
Trixie told Jim and Matt about the cards, letters and nightmares as they packed up the contents of Honey's office, including all her treasured Lucy Radcliffe books.
Maddie emerged from Honey's room long enough to reassure her husband that all was well before recruiting Trixie to help carry wardrobe boxes into the bedroom.
After putting the hanging clothes into the packing boxes, the three women and Sherlock returned to the living room.
"Hey, Honey, come here a sec," Jim requested, as he picked up a picture of the Bob-Whites from a bookshelf.
As she reached his side, Jim set the frame down and hugged his sister tight. "I was the only one who didn't get a hug earlier," he joked. "I was feeling left out."
"You goof," Honey responded, punching him lightly in the shoulder. "I'd never leave my brother out of hugs."
"Don't you mean your full-blooded adopted brother?" he retorted, grinning.
Hazel eyes solemnly met his emerald ones. "Nope. You are my brother," she asserted. "We may not have the same blood, but what we have is here," she said quietly, placing her hands over both their hearts.
Jim hugged her tight again.
"Honey, why don't you pack a bag and come back to Mead's Mountain with us?" Trixie inquired. "The cabin is huge, so there is enough room for Wilson and Carmelita. You could be safe and get some rest."
"That's a great idea, Trixie," Jim enthused. "There are two bedrooms and a bath upstairs plus the room we're in so there's room for you, too, Mom and Dad."
"What do you think?" Trixie asked excitedly.
Matt and Maddie looked at each other for a moment in silent communication. Matt answered, "I think we might be able to do that, kids. We can finalize plans in the morning but right now we need to get to our accommodations for the night so we can get back here bright and early."
"I know Mom made a reservation at that luxury hotel by Cornell before dinner. Do you need a ride?" Jim offered.
"No, son, we've got a rental car. We'll return it in the morning and get a limo over here at seven," Matt answered, herding Maddie to the door where Honey and Trixie waited.
"Good night, darling," Maddie said, hugging Honey.
"'Night, Mom," she replied, shyly using the new name for her mother. "I'll see you all in the morning," she added, kissing her father's cheek before hugging Jim and Trixie.
"'Night Mom and Dad," Jim grinned at his parents. "We'll get it all figured out in the morning and set a plan to get Honey home safe. We need to make sure this nut doesn't get to her again."
"Yes, we do. We'll work it out tomorrow. See you in the morning," Maddie said, as Matt kissed Trixie's cheek. "We'd offer you a ride but you might want to walk off that pizza," she added, eyes twinkling.
Matt took Maddie's hand, leading her down the stairs and to the alley beside the brownstone.
Jim placed an arm around Trixie, walking her down the stairs and strolling past the end of the alley. They had gained the sidewalk on the other side when an engine roared toward them from the alley. A dark green Ferrari convertible squealed out of the alley with Matt at the wheel.
"'Night, kids," he yelled, as Maddie waved from the passenger seat and the sports car raced down the street.
A man separated himself from the tree across the street. "You won't get my Madeleine away from me," he snarled. "She's mine." Turning toward the brownstone he watched the shadows play across the curtains. "All mine."