Disclaimer: I do not own Trixie Belden or the BWG's. No profit is being made from their use.

Out To Lunch

Trixie entered Jim's office just after eleven on Monday. Much too anxious to eat, she had skipped lunch and arrived early. With so much going on between them, they stared nervously at each other. The conversation they wanted to have would just have to wait. As Trixie nervously fidgeted with her curls, Jim gave her a slight smile, knowing that today they would hopefully catch the real thief.

"I don't think we should wait any longer," Jim decided. He was going to leave Trixie alone for a few minutes, giving her ample opportunity to take the envelope from his desk.

"This will work better than planned," he added. "We can see if the thief takes our bait before lunch."

Trixie smiled uncertainly at Jim. She didn't know which was making her more nervous, sharing lunch with Jim or trying to catch a thief. "I hope this works, Jim," she said shakily. "I just hate to think your dad or Mr. Wheeler might think that I'm a thief."

Detecting fear in her voice for the first time, Jim pulled her into his arms to comfort her. "It's okay, Trix," he said as he felt her stiffen in his arms. "This is okay. Just think of it as one friend caring for another friend."

Relishing his touch, Trixie gave in to her emotions and laid her head on Jim's shoulder. Perhaps this would be the last time he held her. If the real thief was caught she would go back to working with the rest of the group. With no real reason to see him, she would be able to move on with her life. That thought alone made her feel like crying.

Before lunch, Jim left the office as planned. Waiting a few minutes, Trixie soon followed. She made a quick trip to her locker and grabbed a drink from the machine in the student lounge. Both she and Jim had made their departures obvious to everyone, including Missy, whom Jim had invited to have lunch with him. If they had guessed correctly, Missy would make her move before lunch, especially if she had plans with Jim.

Twenty minutes later, Trixie entered Jim's office and waited. Biting her bottom lip, she sat impatiently, staring at his desk. With her heart beating fiercely, she tried to calm herself from the rising intensity coursing through her. She was concentrating so hard that she jumped, unexpectedly startled, when Jim opened the door.

"Hey," he said softly, "sorry I took longer than I intended. Dad and Mr. Wheeler needed to talk to me."

"I haven't looked," she told him. "I didn't have the nerve."

"No time like the present," Jim said as he walked purposefully to the desk.

"I feel like my name is up for an Oscar," Trixie giggled nervously.

Jim pulled open the desk drawer and rifled through it. "It's gone," he announced. "I'll call Dan so we can look at the tapes. We might need him."

Trixie was about to reply when there was a knock at the door. Mr. Kramer entered without waiting for Jim to open it. "Sorry to disturb you, Jim," he said apologetically. "I was just checking to see how things are going in here."

"Actually, Mr. Kramer," Jim answered, "I'm glad you stopped by. I think we've caught our thief."

"How did you manage that?" Mr. Kramer asked. "Do you know who it is?"

Jim caught the worry in Mr. Kramer's voice and he seemed a little pale. Maybe the man suspected Missy had something to do with it. "We installed hidden cameras in all the areas where Trixie worked and today someone took the money from my desk."

"Very ingenious of you, Jim," he congratulated him.

"I just need to check Trixie's locker to see if they left the envelope there," Jim told him. "Although I doubt if they did, it would be too obvious. I've called Dan. We are going to do a more thorough search and look at the tapes."

"Well, Trixie," Mr. Kramer said, "it looks like I owe you an apology."

"It's okay," she assured him. "You don't know me and it did look bad."

"How about I take you out to lunch?" Mr. Kramer asked. "It's the least I can do."

"That's not necessary," Trixie declined the offer, wanting to spend as much time with Jim as she could.

"Actually, Trixie, that would be a good idea," Jim interrupted her. "It might get messy and I would prefer to leave you out of it. You don't mind, do you?"

Trixie fought back a surge of disappointment. He didn't want to spend any more time with her. It was time for her to accept the inevitable. Missy belonged with him and she knew Jim would want to protect Missy if she was involved. Trixie understood perfectly. Nodding her agreement, she went to lunch with Mr. Kramer.

Jim and Dan gathered in Mr. Wheeler's office to examine the tapes. Mr. Frayne and Mr. Wheeler insisted on being present during the viewing. Fortunately, Dan had located the money, hidden in a slit in the pocket of Trixie's jacket. Now all eyes were glued to the screen, waiting for the moment the identity of the real thief was revealed.

They had to forward the film to the end where the thief would be captured on tape. As it was flashing forward, Jim caught a glimpse of Missy and Trixie in conversation.

"Stop it for a minute, Dan," Jim requested. "I want to know what that was about." He had hoped Trixie would tell him, but he wasn't about to turn down the opportunity to discover for himself what was going on. Jim listened to every word spoken between Missy and Trixie. It galled him to realize that Trixie had believed her, but Missy was good at spinning a tale. Of course, Jim thought, the way I reacted around her when we first met could have something to do with it. He looked at the hurt expression on Trixie's face as he listened to Missy's final sentence. The anguish on Trixie's pale face would haunt him forever.

"I just thought I'd warn you, Trixie," Missy smiled sympathetically. "I understand, believe me. I thought I was Jim's only girl at one time. In time, I believe he'll settle down, and then I will be his only girl. He always comes back to me."

"That explains that," Dan remarked stopping the tape where Jim walked in the room. He was sure Jim didn't want a replay of that instance. Missy certainly did a number on Trixie, he thought. No wonder she had been so upset.

Win Frayne looked at his son, so much like him in looks and actions, but Missy's words had troubled him. "Son, is there something you need to tell me?" he asked. "Is what Missy said true?" He, along with Matt Wheeler, gave both Jim and Dan a stern look.

"No, Dad," Jim answered, stunned that Missy would stoop to such tactics. "I care about Trixie, a lot," he declared as his face began to match the color of his hair. "More than a lot. I would never hurt her like that. She means way too much to me."

Win winced at the love struck expression on his son's face. He could even see the misery in Jim's eyes, knowing that Trixie had been manipulated so viciously by Missy.

"Is she still talking to you?" Mr. Wheeler asked lightly.

"Barely," admitted Jim.

"Then, young man, you'll need to woo her, won't you?" Mr. Wheeler patted Jim on the back and grinned. "I saw the look on her face when she danced with you. In time, you'll prove yourself, if you're serious, that is."

"Oh, he's serious," Dan snorted as he began to forward the film again. "It's been like living with a lovesick puppy since he met Trixie."

Even Jim had to laugh at Dan's remark because he knew it was true. The humorous moment over, the men began to watch the film carefully once more.

"It's should be here," Dan told them as he slowed the film. They saw Jim leave the office, with Trixie leaving soon after. The silence of the film filled the room as they waited for the culprit to appear. The door opened and a well-known figure emerged onto the small screen. Jim's jaw dropped as he saw the figure go straight to his desk drawer and retrieve the envelope. Playing on the screen before them, without a backward glance, Mr. Kramer walked swiftly out the door tucking the envelope in his jacket as he went.

Mr. Kramer remained quiet after they were seated in his car. Trixie began to feel uncomfortable and searched for something to say.

"I really appreciate you giving me a second chance," Trixie thanked him. "It gave me an opportunity to clear my name."

"And that, my dear, is where I made my mistake," Mr. Kramer said cryptically. His eyes never left the road and he never looked at Trixie as he spoke.

"Your mistake?" Trixie asked, getting a worried feeling in the pit of her stomach. "What do you mean?"

"They'll know soon enough," he replied with a sigh. "I'm the one who set you up."

"You, but why?"

"You still don't get it, do you?" Mr. Kramer laughed at Trixie's look of bemusement. "I would do anything for Missy and Missy wants Jim Frayne."

Trixie suddenly began to feel bad for Mr. Kramer. If he had only waited, she was sure that Missy would have had her wish. Trixie didn't know if she should be scared or if this was Mr. Kramer's way of apologizing. Unable to think about the former, she remained silent.

"It should have been easy," he said, almost more to himself than to Trixie, "if only Honey hadn't pleaded so much. I always wished Missy could have been more like her."

"Honey is very nice," Trixie agreed, breaking her silence.

"And Missy wanted to have everything Honey had," Mr. Kramer continued. "It was difficult to give her everything she wanted. I even had to embezzle money from the company."

Why was he telling her this? Trixie wondered. His voice was calm, eerily calm. She felt the panic rise in her throat as her breathing became rapid. Clenching her teeth, she willed herself to remain still.

"I was going to retire soon," his voice droned on, "and she would marry Jim Frayne." He then took the time to cast a glance at Trixie. "You're very pretty, Trixie. I can see how you caught Jim's eye."

"Missy's very pretty, too," Trixie said, "much prettier than me."

"Yes, she is," Mr. Kramer agreed staunchly, "but Jim seems to prefer you. I tried to intervene in every way I could. Why do you think I arranged for Jim to escort her to the last fundraiser?"

"They made a handsome couple," Trixie said soothingly. "Mr. Kramer, Jim and I aren't seeing each other, not anymore."

"But only after Missy's visit with you," Mr. Kramer interjected. "Yes, she told me about that unfortunate incident. When Jim finds out the truth he won't be interested in Missy anymore. I can't let that happen."

"What do you mean?" Trixie squeaked out in a shaky voice. He knew what Missy had said to her. That had to mean she was lying. Oh, Jim, why didn't I tell you? Trixie's eyes frantically darted about her, searching for a way to escape. She considered jumping from the car, but they were already speeding down the freeway. "If something were to happen to me, Jim knows that I went with you."

"Not if I don't make any more mistakes," Mr. Kramer smiled self-disparagingly. "I'll tell them I told you the truth, which I did, and that you admitted to having an encounter with Missy, which you did. You wanted to confront her. I graciously dropped you off at her apartment building so you could wait for her. You didn't want to have this discussion at work, which I'm sure you don't. And besides, no one will miss you, at least for awhile."

"It won't work," Trixie reasoned with him, "because someone will eventually find my body."

"Girls disappear in the city all the time, Trixie," he explained. "You'll be just another statistic."

"Jim will look for me and so will my brothers," she insisted, getting breathless as she tried to fight the panic.

"Jim will have Missy to comfort him, and I will retire quietly," Mr. Kramer informed her. "It will be best for CAP that way, no scandal."

"What about the missing funds?" Trixie reminded him. "You'll never get away with that."

"Don't you remember my computer program, Trixie?" he said proudly. "By the time they figure that out, Jim and Missy will be working on providing me with grandchildren. He couldn't possibly put dear old gramps in jail, could he?"

Trixie had moved from beyond scared into terrified, her body shaking from head to toe. I don't even have my cell phone, thought Trixie. It was safely stored in her locker since they weren't allowed to use them during work hours. Unconsciously scooting away from Mr. Kramer, Trixie pressed against the door trying to come up with an escape plan.

Mr. Kramer reached out and grabbed Trixie's wrist. "Don't think of jumping," he warned her, "although that would save me from doing the dirty work."

The grip on Trixie's wrist was painful and she had a difficult time blinking back the tears, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her breakdown. When they began to slow near an abandoned rest stop, she knew that she had to try something.

When they slowed and entered the exit lane, Trixie flew with all her strength across the car seat. Grabbing the steering wheel, she tried to cause Mr. Kramer to lose control of the car. She wasn't prepared for the vicious tug on her hair and felt intense pain as he slammed her head against the dashboard. Slipping into oblivion, Trixie no longer felt the pain, the bruise on her forehead the only indication that she was not merely sleeping.

Author Notes: The Oscars are yearly awards given by The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences.

Thanks again to Karen who really did make this story better.