Disclaimer: I do not own Trixie or the Bob-Whites. Not profit is being made from their use.

Chapter Ten

Jim paced impatiently in his roomy apartment. It was already six o'clock and still no sign of Trixie. He had called her cell phone several times and left numerous messages. She hadn't returned any of his calls. As panic started to set in, he made a quick trip to her dorm room. The entire dorm was practically empty with most of the students gone for the holiday. The one student he had managed to find had not seen Trixie that day. His gut full of worry, he drove back to his apartment in search of her.

Had she changed her mind? The thought was a valid one. He had wanted their relationship to progress further, but he wasn't sure Trixie was ready. That was one of the things they were going to discuss. Even if she had gotten cold feet she would have called. Of that, he was sure.

He called the station just to make sure that Trixie had left on time. Assured that she was no longer there, he felt he had no other option but to call her home in Sleepyside. They would be frantic if he didn't phrase his words carefully.

"Hey, Mart," Jim said.

"Hi, Jim," he answered back. "What's up?"

"Just trying to get up with Trixie," he said. "She hasn't called there, has she?"

"She called last night, but we haven't heard from her today. Is anything wrong?" Mart sounded worried.

"Probably not," Jim assured him. "I'm just having a tough time trying to locate her."

"Knowing my sister, she could be anywhere," Mart sighed. "Do me a favor and make her call home when you find her."

"I will," Jim promised as he turned off his phone.

Running his hands through his thick red hair, Jim leaned back against his couch. He stared at the ticking clock on the wall. Seven o'clock. Trixie had mentioned that she had a few errands to do before coming over. Maybe he should give her until eight before going into full panic mode. She often said he was too overprotective. If she didn't show up by eight he would just have to call the police.

"Look what I found," Missy cried, quite pleased with her discovery.

"What?" Trixie glanced at her.

"A bathroom," she announced. "Although it's not the cleanest, it'll have to do."

Trixie grinned at Missy. She hadn't even thought that far ahead, being so interested in finding clues. "That will make our stay tolerable."

Missy walked over to where Trixie stood. "Have you found anything?"

"Actually, I have discovered something," Trixie said. "Whoever lives here is quite an art collector. Look at all these paintings and vases."

"I wonder why they keep them down here," Missy said curiously. "I mean, wouldn't you want to display something like this?"

"Precisely," Trixie agreed, "unless you're hiding it for some reason."

"Why would anyone hide it?" she asked confused.

"I'm not sure," Trixie answered slowly. "It could be stolen. Maybe that's what they meant by finding a buyer."

"You know, I hate to admit it," Missy said reluctantly, "but Daddy often bought art work at a discount. I wonder if some of it was stolen."

In spite of herself, Trixie gave Missy a sympathetic look. "Well, this is something we can tell Dan and Mark."

"I suppose you're right about that," she agreed.

"And Missy," Trixie cautioned her, "if someone does come down here, I think we should hide in the bathroom. Thanks for finding it."

Missy smiled warmly at Trixie for a moment. "I'm starting to get thirsty," she stated. "I think I would prefer the wine instead of the water from the bathroom."

"I suppose," Trixie said doubtfully as she looked at the racks of wine.

Walking over to a tray of wine openers, Missy tossed one to Trixie. "Have a go at it. Eventually, we'll figure it out."

After several tries, the girls managed to get two of the bottles open. Only accustomed to the rare glass of wine on special occasions, Trixie sipped slowly not particular enjoying the flavor.

"It's not bad," Missy noted. "In fact, it would be delicious with a meal."

"I'll take your word for it," Trixie said as she forced herself to swallow another drink.

"Not too much," Missy warned her. "We don't want to get tipsy."

Watching Missy take a long drink from her bottle, Trixie said drily, "I can see you take your own advice."

At precisely eight o'clock, Jim called 911. When he reported Trixie missing, they politely informed him that unless he had reason to suspect foul play he would need to wait twenty-four house before filing a formal report. They did, however, promise to have every available officer looking for her. In frustration, Jim slammed down the phone. He quickly called his father for advice.

"What do I do, Dad?" Jim asked after he had explained the situation to his father.

"Are you sure you've check everywhere?" his father questioned him.

"Yes," Jim said frantically. "She's gone."

"Let me make some calls to a few friends of mine," Win suggested. "I'll see if I can speed things up."

"Thanks," Jim said, the worry evident in his voice.

"Son, do you need me or your mom to come over there?" Win asked.

"No," Jim insisted, "you need to concentrate on those phone calls and I don't want to scare Mom."

"We'll find her," Win said determinedly. "We won't stop until we do."

With his father's connections, Jim was able to file a missing person's report that night. It didn't change anything except to make it official. Dejected, he drove home. The officer's had suggested he stay at home just in case Trixie showed up. If she didn't appear by morning, he was going to search for her with or without their help.

"You know, Trixie," Missy giggled, "you and Jim make the cutest couple."

Jim, thought Trixie, he's going to be so worried. She took another drink of wine to calm down. "Yes, we do," she agreed sourly.

"I'm sorry I was so mean to you," Missy said as she hugged Trixie. "I'm such a liar."

"It's okay, Missy," Trixie assured her. She hoped that Missy would sleep soon. With Missy starting on her second bottle, the effect of the wine was making her chatty.

"Jim is so hot," Missy sighed, her speech slurred slightly. "You are one lucky girl. He was so mad at me."

"It's okay, Missy," Trixie said as she patted Missy's head.

"I took his cell phone," she admitted. "When my brakes went out, I mean. I hid it from him."

Tired of Missy's true confessions, Trixie took another drink of wine. "Jim should have called anyway," she said crossly.

"He was wonderful," Missy hiccupped, "even the next day when I made him late for the bus. He didn't blame me at all."

"Wonderful," Trixie agreed sarcastically. "He's the most wonderful boy in the world."

"Yes, he is," Missy giggled, "except when he told me to stay away from him." She sniffled a little. "That wasn't so wonderful."

"Really," Trixie felt her eyes grow heavy as she listened to Missy talk.

"He didn't like it when I kissed him either," Missy murmured.

Trixie's eyes flew open, sleep no longer possible. Taking a large drink of wine, she said, "You kissed him." Jim had told her that Missy had tried to kiss him, not that she had succeeded.

"I tried," she pouted, "but he said no." In a whispered voice, she added, "I even suggested we do other things."

"When was this?" Trixie asked, gripping the wine bottle tightly in her hand. And why hadn't Jim mentioned that part to her?

"That night you and Dan were making out on the couch," she giggled. "Now you're twice as lucky."

"We were not making out," Trixie protested angrily. Then she snickered a little. It served him right. "But if that's what Jim thought, he should have said something."

"Oh, he thought a lot about that," Missy declared, her head nodding as she spoke. "Do you know he even got drunk?"

"Uh-uh," Trixie said surprised.

"Dan told me," she said. "He got drunk with him. Of course, Dan only told me to shut me up. He had an agonizing headache that day, and of course I was to blame."

"Men are so stupid sometimes," Trixie declared, taking another sip of wine. She put her arm around Missy. "Why do we put up with them?"

"Cause they can kiss real good," Missy giggled.

This remark sent both girls into fits of laughter. "We can still be friends, Trixie," Missy said solemnly. "I promise I won't kiss Jim anymore."

"Good," said Trixie drowsily, "I don't like my friends kissing Jim."

Jim stared blankly at the television screen in front of him. It was almost eleven and still no sign of Trixie. He knew he should call her parents, but decided to wait until the morning. He just couldn't accept the fact that she was truly missing, not yet.

The shrill ringing of his phone brought him out of his dazed thoughts. "Hello," he said anxiously.

"Hey, Jim, what's wrong? You sound like a crazed man."

"Dan? Have you heard from Trixie?" Jim didn't try to disguise the fear in his voice.

"No, I thought she was spending the evening with you. As a matter of fact, that's why I called," he laughed. "I didn't think you would be answering the phone."

"I haven't seen her all night," Jim explained. "I even filed a missing person report."

"What?" Dan asked, stunned. "You've checked everywhere?"

"Yeah," Jim answered, "I don't know what else to do."

"Oh, my god," Dan groaned.

"Do you know something I don't?"

"I need to call Mark," Dan told him.

"Mark?" Jim asked puzzled. "She's with Mark?"

"No, nothing like that," Dan assured him, "but I have a feeling I know where she's gone to."

"Where?" Jim demanded.

"Jim, go to the station where Trixie works. I'll have Mark meet you there. He'll explain everything." Dan disconnected the phone before Jim could ask for more details.

Not even stopping to grab a coat, Jim ran all the way to his car. His heart racing with fear, he drove as fast as possible to reach the station. Mark was there waiting for him when he arrived.

"Where is Trixie?" Jim demanded.

"I checked out the police report before you arrived," Mark said calmly. "She left here after work, but never made it to her dorm."

"I figured that much out myself," Jim said with frustration. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Trixie has been nosing around this house," Mark told him. "We tried to stop her. In fact, we insisted."

"Do you think that's where she is now?"

"It's a good possibility," he concluded. "I'm going to have two more cops go look for her."

"I'm going, too," Jim said stubbornly.

Mark nodded. "Dan said you wouldn't wait here. We'll go together."

Hurriedly, Jim and Mark followed the squad car to the old house. Parking around the corner from the home, they walked cautiously from the opposite direction of the patrol officers. When they passed a red BMW, Jim frowned as he recognized the car.

"That car belongs to one of our employees," he told Mark.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive," Jim declared. "I helped her a few weeks ago when she had car trouble."

Mark radioed the other two cops with this new information. "It doesn't look like anyone's home. Come on." He motioned for Jim to follow him around to the back of the house. "You know, Jim," he added hopefully, "I'm supposed to tell you to stay back. You are going to listen to me, right?"

"Of course," Jim whispered back, "just as soon as I find Trixie."

"That's what I thought," Mark sighed reluctantly. "At least, stay behind me."

When they found the old door partially open, Mark grinned in spite of himself. "She's amazing, but she needs to learn to cover her tracks."

"Don't tell her that," Jim warned even as he nodded in agreement.

"We'll check the basement," Mark told the officers. "You two check the upstairs."

Carefully, they crept down the stairs. When they reached the metal door, they listened closely for any noises from the other side. Hearing nothing, Mark released the lock and opened the door slowly. Making sure the door was propped open, Jim followed him into the wine cellar.

They glanced around the room. Nothing seemed out of place except for two empty wine bottles on the floor along with a couple of bottle openers. Then they heard it. Giggles and whispered hissing noises floated from behind another door in the back of the cellar. Confused, they looked at each other.

Mart kept his gun out. "When I say go," he instructed softly, "pull the door open quickly and stand back."

Nodding, Jim took his position. With a murmured shout of "Go!" Jim yanked the door open as Mark leveled his gun.

"Don't shoot!" cried Missy, tumbling from the bathroom.

"No, please don't shoot us, Mark," Trixie said as she sank to the floor in relief.

"Trixie?" Jim stared at the wine bottle in her hand.

"Jim," she stood and wobbled toward him, "I missed you."

Jim grabbed Trixie by the waist to steady her. Stifling the urge to let go with a few curses, he said, "I'm not going to happy about this, am I?"

Trixie fought back a yawn and replied, "I didn't think you would be here for days." She whispered in his ear, "You should be happy I didn't murder Missy."

"For that, I'm grateful," Jim murmured back as he caught her sagging body.

"Let's get them out of here," Mark suggested.

"My hero," Missy wound her arms around Mark's neck. "You are so cute."

"You know, there's lots of paintings and stuff back here," Trixie pointed out unsteadily. "They're so pretty. I think they are stolen."

"Good job, Freckles," Mark smiled warmly as helped Missy up the stairs. "I'll alert the detectives and get them down here right away."

In spite of the rush to get the girls safely out, Jim couldn't contain his grin. "So, I've got myself a shamus now."

"What's a shamus?" Trixie asked sleepily as she leaned against Jim's chest.

As Trixie closed her eyes, Jim looked helplessly at Mark. "I suppose we should let them sleep it off. I don't think either one of them is used to drinking."

As Mark walked Missy to her car, Jim picked up the now sleeping Trixie and carried her to his. After depositing her in the front seat and buckling her in, he turned to Mark who was doing the same with Missy.

"Here's her address," Jim said as he gave Mark a piece of paper, "and I found her keys in her coat pocket."

"The detectives will be here shortly and then I'll take her home," Mart told him. "Since we can honestly say we thought they were in danger, I think we can use what Trixie found. I hope so anyway or else the sergeant will have her hide. She'll probably still be in for a lecture or two come Monday."

When Jim arrived at his apartment, Trixie was still sleeping like a softly snoring baby. Chuckling, he gently stroked her cheek before picking her up. As she squirmed to get comfortably in his arms, he pulled her tightly against him. Maneuvering her around, he unlocked his apartment and gently placed her on the couch, removing her shoes in the process. Taking a blanket from the bedroom, he laid it over her slumbering body before cradling her head in his lap.

As he played with her golden curls, he called his father and the Beldens. Her brothers were already on their way to the city to check on Trixie and would be there shortly. Sighing, Jim leaned his head back in weariness just as his phone began ringing.

"Hello."

"I hear the lost are found," Dan chuckled.

"I guess Mark called you," Jim said as continued to absentmindedly stroke Trixie's hair.

"He did," laughed Dan. "He's having a time with Missy. It seems she won't be quiet."

"Trixie is out like a light," Jim smiled down at her. "I'm going to have to sit up with her, although from the looks and smell of those two, they spilled more than they drank."

"I'm glad everything worked out," Dan said seriously. "They could have been in serious trouble."

"I know," Jim conceded, a troubled look flashing in his green eyes, "and her brothers are on their way to see her."

"Man, I wouldn't want that job," Dan groaned. "They'll be gray-headed before their thirtieth birthday."

"Maybe they'll talk some sense into her this time," Jim laughed, unable to be angry with her.

"You just keep telling yourself that," Dan joked as he hung up the phone.

Jim gazed down at Trixie while she slept. As he stroked her hair, she moved restlessly against his palm. Trying to allow her to sleep, his hand stilled as he continued to watch her.

"No," she murmured, her voice sounding breathless and scared. "I won't tell."

"Trixie?" Jim whispered close to her ear. "It's me, Jim. Wake up, love."

"No," she cried once more, "please don't leave me here."

"Trixie," Jim said a little more forcefully, "wake up."

Trixie awoke with a start and jumped away from Jim's worried glance. "You scared me," she admitted with a gasp, her body shaking with fright. She snuggled close as Jim drew her back into his arms. "Sometimes I still dream about Missy's dad."

"Do you have these dreams often?" he asked, mentally kicking himself that he hadn't thought of nightmares as a lingering effect of her ordeal.

"Not so much anymore," Trixie told him as she grabbed his hands tightly.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all this alone, Trix," Jim apologized, guilt flushing his cheeks. He placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Diana helped me," she said.

"I'm surprised she let me anywhere near you after everything that happened," Jim sighed with regret. "I owe her for taking such good care of you."

Trixie smiled for a moment, and then gave out a little moan. Clutching her stomach, she closed her eyes briefly. "Jim?" Trixie stirred beneath his touch. "I don't feel so good."

"It's okay, Shamus," he comforted her as he helped her to the bathroom. "I've got you. I won't let you down this time."