Chapter 13:

The Obvious

Back at Angler's Landing, while Honey set up the new coffee maker, Trixie and Hallie got the laundry rolling. Beau and his able-bodied deckhand were already on their way to the boat launch, as it'd only taken the anxious hunters a matter of minutes to replace the broken prop.

In the meantime, Aunt Liz had gone to her father-in-law's to fix Papa and Aunt Renee some lunch. Mrs. LeBlanc had offered to whip up a little something for the girls, too. But after having had a big breakfast, followed by beignets at Josette's, Trixie, Hallie, and Honey decided to pass. There were plenty of apples and granola bars at their cabin to hold them over until dinner should they get hungry.

"So, what next?" Honey asked her friends as she rejoined them in the noisy laundry room. "We've got about forty-five minutes until the loads will need swapping. Shall we go see how your grandfather is doing, Hallie?"

"Sure enough," Hallie returned, noting the time on her cell phone. "Someone has to warn Papa that those Foret Rats are spreadin' rumors about him. Besides, it's time we were feeding Fogerty. That ol' hound gets pretty vocal if you're late with his slop. I wouldn't want Sure-Shot-Shelly usin' him for target practice."

"Oh, Hallie, will you stop it with the Forets already?" Trixie grumbled. The Idaho girl had been doing nothing but badmouthing the family since returning to camp. "That dog's grayer than father time," Trixie went on. "If Beau's grandmother had wanted to shoot him, don't you think she would've by now?"

"She's not Beau's grandmother," Hallie insisted, returning her phone to her macramé bag, which she'd flung on the folding counter. "And you better not let Bernie hear ya sayin' so. He's likely to feed you to the gators, Cuz. Folks 'round here don't mess around. It's an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth in the swamp."

Trixie muttered as she picked up one of Mart's once-white socks from the floor. She'd dropped the grungy thing when loading the washer, and the machine lid was already locked in mid-cycle. So the exasperated girl tossed the stray into the waiting basket of reds. The sock would likely come out pink. But hey, it seemed fitting on a day like this.

"I thought everyone along the Bayou was supposed to be one big helpful, happy family?" Trixie grunted in return. "Granted. Everyone seems to be related. But that family's pretty dysfunctional and unobliging if you ask me."

Hallie gave her snide relative an evil eye rivaling the one the girls had gotten from Madam Dupart. "Well, I don't recall anyone askin' ya," she sneered. "And if I were you, I'd watch who you're bad moutin'. I'm part of that family, which makes you a part of it too, Cuz."

"Girls, please," Honey interrupted, herding the arguing pair toward the exit. "I know it's hot, which makes tempers flare, but enough is enough. If you can't talk about something pleasant, please don't talk at all." When Miss Wheeler was angry, you knew things were bad. And Trixie and Hallie fell silent.

But as Honey pushed open the door, leading the way outside, the young ladies caught a flash of a green short-bed pickup speeding down the road toward Papa's, and Hallie grumbled, "Looks like we've got trouble."

"How so?" Honey asked, recalling that none of the LeBlancs owned a green truck.

"It's not one of the Forets, is it?" Trixie added.

"Oh, no," Hallie returned with a drawl. "Worse. That's Game Warden Hebert. He's come to have a talk with Papa. We better git hoppin'!"


Rushing through Papa's front gate, the winded girls heard Mr. LeBlanc bellowing through his bedroom window, "If I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times, Hebert. A doggone Nutria got tangled up in that line! All I was doin' was settin' the dang thing free. Gator poachin' my big tochus!"

Hallie motioned the young ladies into the bushes below the open screen. Papa hadn't been raised with air-conditioning and didn't believe "real" men needed such comforts.

"What's a Nutria?" Honey whispered as three crouched low so as not to be seen.

"It's a hairy water rat with gnarly orange teeth," Hallie hissed back. "They're about the size of a raccoon, Hon."

Miss Wheeler was wishing she hadn't asked when Clete Herbert ordered, "Easy Lucas. I'm just trying to get the facts straight. So, were you, or were you not, taking potshots at Marcel's boys?"

"All I did was fire a few rounds of warnin'," Papa scoffed. "I wasn't shootin' at nobody. I swear I didn't know who it was in that darn boat, Clete. If I had, those blasted bludgers would be feedin' those mud-cats they claim to have been juggin'. Not off flappin' their tongues, you can be sure of that."

Trixie winced and popped up to see the thin Lieutenant grimace. Warden Hebert appeared clean-cut and competent, dressed in a starched khaki uniform with buffed black boots. Not at all the "worthless" sort, like Mr. LeBlanc had painted him.

"You're lucky those fellows didn't start firing back at you, Lucas. If you know what's good for you, you'll stop taking the law into your own hands," he warned.

Mr. LeBlanc groaned as he struggled to sit up in bed. "If I know what's good for me?!" he proceeded to roar. "If you and that pathetic posse of yours were doin' your job, decent law abidin' folks, like me, wouldn't need to be out guarding our livelihoods. And you have the gall to call yourself a game warden," Papa added with a grumble of disgust.

Lt. Hebert raked his fingers through his sleek, dark hair. He reminded Trixie a lot of Dan. "Look, Lucas," he said, trying to remain calm, "We're doing our best. Half of Game and Fisheries' staff is out with that darn croup that's going around. And I guess I might as tell you. It's bound to be all over the news tonight. But the rest, including myself, have been on a search and rescue mission.

That researcher who's been looking for evidence of Red Wolves? He's disappeared with no trace. A colleague of his reported him missing yesterday morning. And we were able to trace the man's cell phone back to his camp. But it doesn't look like he's been there for a few days. I think the fool went off, not knowing he forgot his phone and got lost deep in the swamp, out past your sister's place."

Papa fell back on his stack of feather pillows. "Mercy Clete," he said. "That ain't good. Many a soul has never returned from those parts."

Trixie grabbed Hallie's tanned arm. "That must be your mother and uncle's biologist friend," the Sleepyside girl said with an alarmed whisper. "The one who wrote the book your Mom's reading."

Hallie nodded, her face dark with concern. "Afraid so, Cuz," she returned quietly. "And once word is out? Folk's 'round here are really gonna be spooked. After what happened last night with Papa? People are gonna think the Rougarou got Dr. Guidry. We better hope Lt. Hebert has luck findin' the professor and quick."

Honey went white as a sheet. And again, the young lady wondered what had she gotten herself into?! "Oh, Hallie, the authorities will find Mr. Guidry, won't they?" she asked.

Hallie flashed Trixie a look of doubt but shrugged her shoulders and said, "I'd say the odds are fifty-fifty, Hon. Only there's no tellin' if he'll be dead or alive," she added grimly.

And Officer Hebert seemed to agree. "You're right about that, Lucas," he said. "And the more time that fellow is out there, the less chance our department will find him. Yet, here I stand, wasting my breath when I should be out there, heading up the search and rescue team.

So consider this an official warning," he added, crossing his arms and glaring at Papa. " If I have to come back out here again to play mediator in some childish feud between grown men, you better believe I'll find a good reason to have you all thrown in jail. Good day, Lucas."

And with that, the lieutenant left the room and strode stiffly from the house.

Once the officer was back in his truck and safely down the road a ways, Trixie, Hallie, and Honey slipped from their hiding spot in the hydrangeas. But before the three girls could reach the front porch, they spotted yet another vehicle coming up the lane.

"Gleeps, this place is as busy as Grand Central Station," the New York Miss Belden commented as the maroon sedan pulled into the parking spot recently vacated by the game warden. "I wonder who's calling this time?"

"That's Mrs. Robert," Hallie declared as the young ladies detoured to greet their neighbor. "I reckon she's come to do some doctorin' on Papa."

"Is Mrs. Robert a physician?" Honey asked with surprise.

"Nah, she's what folk's 'round here call a traiteur," the Idaho girl returned. "Mrs. Robert was born with the gift of healin', Hon. She fixes people up usin' the power prayer and folk medicine. Accordin' to Papa, Mrs. Robert inherited her magic touch from her Pa."

Trixie snorted, "So she's a witch doctor?"

"Only Aunt Izzy is a witch," the tall girl scoffed. "And Mrs. Robert's gift is no joke, Cuz. Remember when Knut had that gnarly ol' wart on his honker? The one that looked like that pimple you've got?"

The Sleepyside Miss Belden nearly exploded. She'd have to remember to thank Mart for planting that ugly seed. "It's not a pimple. It's a bug bite!" she insisted.

"Whatever," Hallie returned as Mrs. Robert could be seen popping open her car trunk. "Like I was sayin', Knut had this ugly ol' wart. And the doctor had taken it off twice, but it kept comin' back. So one summer, when we were visitin', Mama LeBlanc took Big Broth' to see Mrs. Robert. Our grandma was still married to Papa then. And…"

Trixie was losing patience with her cousin's rambling. Mrs. Robert had just retrieved a large tapestry bag from her trunk and was waving to the dawdling young ladies. The Sleepyside Miss Belden wanted Hallie to hurry up with her story so the girls could help the older woman with her satchel.

"Just get to the point," she ordered.

Hallie huffed and paused just long enough to shake yet another stone from her flip-flop. "Well," she continued, "Mrs. Robert took some rainwater, which had been sitting in this rottin' tree stump, ya see, and dipped a slice of bread in it. Then she took the soppy thing and used it to make a cross over the growth on Knut's nose. Mrs. Robert finished by sayin' a prayer. And she had Mama repeat the whole process for three nights followin'."

"And the wart went away?" Miss Wheeler asked as the young ladies strolled up to the country doctor.

"Sure enough, Hallie finished, giving Mrs. Robert a nod "hello". "On the mornin' following the third day, Knut's wart was gone, and it's never come back, Hon."

"Why, that's amazing," Miss Wheeler gasped as Trixie offered to take Mrs. Robert's bag.

"What's amazing?" Mrs. Roberts inquired, happily surrendering her heavy tote.

The seventy-ish woman was reaching back into her car for an insulated thermos when Hallie explained she'd been telling the girls about Mrs. Robert's curative ministering.

"Everybody livin' on the bayou swears by your miracle touch," the Idaho girl finished.

"Well, not everyone, dear," Mrs. Robert corrected as she shooed the girls toward the house. "But it certainly feels that way in the wake of Tropical Storm Deloris. Folk's homes weren't the only thing that wicked tempest left battered, I'm afraid. Between people's bumps and bruises and that chronic cough, she stirred up? Why, I'm running in circles. Your Papa is my fifth patient today, Hallie. And I have yet to visit poor Bernard."

"Gleeps, Mrs. Robert! How do you find time to care for all those people and still run an alligator farm?" Trixie asked with amazement.

The lady in the floral dress smiled. "My daughter and little Louise are simply wonderful help with the nursery," Mrs. Robert revealed. "And I've got the cutest brother and sister pair watching the park while I'm away today. The young lady is about your age, I do believe? She's a very good friend of Beau's and mostly works for Robert and me after school."

"That would be Georgina Romero," Hallie told Trixie and Honey with a scoff as they marched up the porch. "She's another of Beau's classmates. Her brother, Gervais, is older. He's about Cousin Ben's age."

As Mrs. Robert opened the front screen door and let out a loud, "Yoo-hoo? Anybody home?", Trixie and Honey both giggled. Apparently, the good folk doctor wasn't concerned with disturbing her patient. And from the clanging and banging of pans coming from the back kitchen, neither was Aunt Liz. Only from Papa's earlier outburst, both young ladies knew chances were slim the gentleman was resting, anyhow.

But Aunt Renee, rushing to the door, did seem worried about further stirring up Papa. She also appeared incredibly hot and frazzled. Her skirt, which was usually flowing, was instead clinging to her legs like trousers, and perspiration beaded her high-domed forehead. Maybe "real men" didn't need air-conditioning, but at least one "real woman" desperately needed a little cool air.

"Oh, Della, thank goodness you're here," the Hallie's mother whispered as she welcomed the newcomers in. "Your timing is perfect. My father is in a terrible state. He claims his head is splitting and he seems to grow weaker by the hour."

Mrs. Robert handed the concerned woman the thermos she'd been carrying. "Just as I feared," she sighed. "That stubborn fool has gone and compromised his immune system. He should never have been out at night after such a long and stressful day. Why, he'll be lucky if he doesn't come down with that awful croup that's going around."

"But Della, it's his head and back giving him fits?" Mrs. Belden returned, sounding somewhat exasperated.

Mrs. Robert patted Aunt Renee's arm. "I'm sure they are, my dear," she returned. "But much of that has to do with his elevated stress level. So you be a good girl and go pour your Pa a cup of Mama Robert's soothing ginger tea. I'll be in to see him shortly."

As the Idaho woman did as instructed, the older lady retrieved her cloth satchel from Trixie, all the while calling out, "'Lizabeth, where are you hiding, my sweet?"

Aunt Liz came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Why, Della, you look as lovely as spring day," she said, giving Mrs. Robert a hug. "Thank you for coming so quickly. I know how terribly busy you are."

"Well, Lizzy, it's like they say. God's work is never done," the grey-haired lady replied with a titter. "Besides, I'm never too busy for a friend," she added.

Trixie watched as Mrs. Robert then pulled two small metal tins from her bag.

"Herbal tea and sugar cookies," she announced, handing the containers to Aunt Liz. "The cookies will help sweeten your father-in-law's disposition. And the tea's a special blend of ginger and chamomile meant to calm his nerves so he can rest and heal faster."

Mrs. Robert then noted that she'd already given Aunt Renee a thermos of brewed tea to administer to Mr. LeBlanc today. However, the lady in the cotton dress did go on to ask Aunt Liz if she'd mind steeping more of the concoction for Hallie's mother, as Papa needed it.

"I know it's a simple matter of boiling water," she confessed. "But…well…the poor thing may require a bit of help, Lizzie," she added, trailing off.

And everyone smirked, including Hallie.

"I'd be glad to give Renee a hand," Mrs. LeBlanc replied light-heartedly. "Warden Hebert mentioned that you'd been bringing his department tea and cookies, too, Della. You just missed him. The Lieutenant was paying Lucas a little 'social' call," she added with care, eyeballing the teenagers.

"Now, isn't that nice," the older woman absently returned as she again began rummaging through her bag. Removing a golden-edged bible and a small wooden cross, Mrs. Robert went on, "I do hope that means Lucas and Clete have mended their differences? During times of crisis, we all must pull together, Lizzy. The Warden and his men and women do so much for our community. And I'm afraid that dreadful storm has left them over-taxed. Did you know? Half of the officers are out with that awful bug that's been plaguing our waters. In fact, if I were you, I'd be worried about that handsome man of yours contracting it. You be sure Zach's getting his rest, my dear, and not venturing out at night like his Pa. As I keep reminding folks, the Bayou's no place to be once the sun goes down."

Aunt Liz was agreeing when Papa let out a roar from his back bedroom.

"Will you get that vile stuff away from me, child!" Mr. LeBlanc hollered. "What's in that cup? Horse pi…"

"Father!" came Aunt Renee's scolding voice. "Watch your language. There are ladies in the house. And if you must know, it's ginger tea. Mrs. Robert says it's good for you."

Papa's harrumph rattled the window panes. "Good for me?" he bellowed. "If you know what's good for you, girl, you'll dump that god-awful stuff down the sink and bring your Papa a beer. You tryin' to turn me into a mummy's boy like that pinking liftin' husband of yours? Tea, my big tuckus!" he finished with a mutter.

Trixie emitted a squeak of amusement, and Honey followed it up with a giggle. It seemed Aunt Renee, not to mention God and Mrs. Robert, had their work cut out for them. If Papa's condition was indeed worsening, it had yet to affect his lungs.


"For the last time, Honey, will you stop worrying? There's no such thing as a Rougarou!" Trixie groaned, snagging the basket containing Mr. Belden and the boys' folded clothes from atop the dryer. "Besides," she added, as her friend turned off the overhead light and held open the laundry room door, "even if there were, Madam Dupart said the Rougarou is fond of 'naughty little girls'. And let's face it, Hon, you've never been naughty a day in your life."

As the pair started for cabin two, Miss Wheeler sniffed, "Oh no? What would you say if I told you, just last night, I was so tired, I didn't even floss my teeth before brushing, Trixie?"

And the Sleepyside Miss Belden nearly broke down in hysterics. "You didn't?! Well, then, I'd say it's been awfully good knowing you, Honey," she laughed. And her slender partner began laughing, too.

"I suppose I am being silly, aren't I?" Honey confessed as they entered the young men's cottage.

"Maybe just a smidge," Trixie returned with a grin.

Leaving the basket of tightie-whities on the table for the great hunters to sort when they returned, Trixie suggested she and Honey's next stop be "home-sweet-home". Hallie had stayed behind at Papa's to lend her mother and Aunt a hand. She would be rejoining the young ladies shortly. But in the meantime, Trixie hoped the New York girls might use their free time to repair the hole in their loft screen.

Trixie wasn't looking forward to another sleepless night of being dive-bombed by mosquitos. She was growing tired - too tired to even think logically about who was stealing alligators around Bayou Chevrette. So, while the young ladies had been swapping out the laundry, they'd chatted about the mysterious disappearance of Dr. Guidry instead.

Aunt Renee, it turned out, was terribly worried about her friend. The professor was a skilled outdoors-man. He wasn't the kind of man who'd go off haphazardly. Having grown up in the area, Dr. Guildry knew the swamps like the back of his hand. But even Mrs. Belden had to admit that Dr. Guidry would have been the first to warn of its many dangers. Sometimes, in the name of science, one took risks.

That's why Hallie's mother had actually put her foot down and said "no" when Trixie suggested the girls volunteer to join Warden Hebert's search party for the missing biologist. And Hallie had gotten a huge chuckle out of that. Aunt Renee had never used the big 'N-O" before. But boy, oh boy, was Honey ever glad that she had. If an experienced survivalist could disappear in the wetlands of Louisiana, what would keep three inexperienced teenagers from doing so?

Miss Wheeler was sure a Rougarou had gotten the professor. And Trixie had had her fill of hearing about the beast. Whether it was a wolf-man or a boogie-man, she could really care less. The creature was make-believe and wasn't worth losing any sleep over.

Only exhaustion tended to cloud a person's reason and raise her fears - so best the girls focus on something productive -like keeping those winged vampires out of their lair.

But sadly, upon returning to their cabin, the topic of the Rougarou was again to raise its ugly head.

Examination of the screen in question had Honey once more itching to punch the speed dial on her phone to her father. For running down the center of the fine mesh panel were five long slashes. And Trixie just couldn't figure out how the keen detectives had missed seeing the slits before? And that's when her worry-wart partner suggested that maybe the damage hadn't been there when the young ladies had been unpacking.

"I think a Rougarou must have been trying to get in last night when something scared it away!" Honey declared, tracing the tears in the screen with her fingers.

And Trixie shivered. It was awfully easy to imagine sharp claws having made the jagged openings. Only there had to be a more logical explanation. But unable to come up with one, the frustrated girl blew up.

"Honey Wheeler, if you mention that hairy beast one more time, I'll call your father myself!" Trixie threatened hotly. "You can go home all by your lonesome and forget about ever being a part of the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency!" she added thoughtlessly.

Only as Honey broke down in tears Miss Belden felt like a real heel.

"Oh, Honey, forgive me," she cooed, trying to soothe her hurt friend. "This creepy place is getting to us both. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. Why, without you, there wouldn't be a Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency. You're the real brains behind our operation, you know. So come on. Help me figure this out. A Rougarou couldn't reach us on the second floor, could it?"

"So you don't think wolf-men can climb trees?" Honey asked through her sniffles.

And Trixie smacked herself in the forehead. Sure enough, there was a tree not meters from their window, and she hadn't noticed it either. Funny, how easy it was to overlook the obvious.

The high winds from Tropical Storm Deloris must have whipped the old oak's branches against their window. It's amazing the screen hadn't been shredded to bits! Explaining this to her damp-eyed friend, Trixie received a small nod of agreement from the pretty girl.

"You're right, of course," Honey admitted, going for a tissue in her bag. Then, sitting on the edge of her bed, the fragile girl dabbed her eyes. "I'm sorry I've been such a baby lately, Trixie," she said. "I guess, subconsciously, I've been looking for reasons to go home. Not so much because things here scare me. I mean, they do. Terribly so. But it's more because Brian is at home. And what truly frightens me is the thought that… well… he might forget about me while I'm gone. When your brother hasn't been studying lately, he's been spending a lot of time with Loyola Kevins. In fact, I overheard him telling Jim that he was taking Loyola to the movies this coming Friday night."

Loyola was a friend of Brian's from school. The young lady was quite bright. And Trixie's brother had mentioned to his sister that the girl was in his chemistry class this year. But he hadn't said anything about taking Miss Kevins out on a date.

Trixie dropped down next to her friend and began picking at a string in the coverlet. "Oh, Honey, I'm so sorry," she said. "Curse that Hallie Belden! We wouldn't be on this trip if it weren't for her. I'm so sorry for making you come."

Miss Wheeler tucked her tissue into her pocket and straightened her posture. "You don't need to apologize for anything, Trixie," she said. "And it's probably a good thing I came to Louisiana. If I were at home, I'd likely just be sitting in my bedroom, feeling sorry for myself, like I'm doing now."

Trixie grimaced. "Well, I'll tell you one thing, Hon. I have yet to meet Loyola Kevins. But there isn't anyone who can hold a candle to you. And do you what?" Honey's cheerleader added as her friend looked doubtful. "It probably is a good thing you came on this trip. It'll give that thick-headed brother of mine a chance to miss you, Honey. But in the meantime, maybe it wouldn't hurt if you got to know Cap a little better -or maybe even Dan. Dan's a real swell guy. Who knows? Maybe come your birthday, he'll be carving you a wooden horse."

"Oh, Trixie, I don't know," the pretty girl said, chewing on her thumbnail. "Wouldn't it be wrong to see other boys?"

"Not in my book," Miss Belden returned, getting up and going back to the window. "If Brian can go out with other girls, there's no reason you can't explore your options, Hon. You and he aren't going steady. And I think Dr. Belden could use a healthy dose of his own medicine. Only whatever you decide to do," she added. "I wouldn't advise falling for Beau. Miss Sugar-Pop has dibs on that Cajun Casanova."

Honey laughed and replied, "Oh, pooh." But in all honesty, Miss Wheeler wasn't sure she was ready to risk the special friendship she shared with Brian by socializing with other boys. Oh, Trixie had raised an excellent point. The studious young man didn't appear to be worried about how Honey was feeling about him dating other girls. And true, Cap and Dan did seem like awfully thoughtful boys. But well, neither of the pair gave Honey that happy, bubbly feeling that a young girl liked to feel inside.

So, deciding not to rush into anything, Honey instead joined her friend, who was trying to figure out how to patch the damaged window screen.

"Do you think we can slap some duct tape over holes?" Trixie asked, unable to come up with a better solution. "I saw some in Papa's shed."

"That might work," Honey concluded, chewing on her lip. "Only the tape would keep the air out as much as the bugs, afraid."

Trixie, scratching her curly head, admitted, "Good point. Then, she went on to ask if her partner had any suggestions.

And that's when Honey went for her night case, which she'd tucked under the edge of her bed. Removing a small sewing kit from it, the skilled seamstress explained that she thought she could stitch the tears shut. "It may take a while, but it should be as easy as darning a sock," she explained. "In the meantime, maybe you can catch a little nap, Trixie?"

Emitting a big yawn, Miss Belden didn't need any coaxing. Flopping down on her springy mattress, she bid Honey luck and then closed her eyes.


The great gator hunters retired before the sun that night. It'd been a bountiful day for the fishermen. The teams had come home with their boats loaded full of the giant reptiles. And while none of the anglers had managed to get their hooks into Houdini - Dan did claim to have taken a couple of sniper shots at the elusive beast.

Of course, Hallie had pointed out that if it had been Beau, Mr. Perfect would have bagged the sought-after trophy. But Trixie had jumped right in there, in Mr. Mangan's defense. The young man and his captain had tagged twenty-five savage monsters by the end of the day– with two of the alligators measuring over eleven feet long! That was more gators than any of the other teams had managed to catch. And even Beau admitted it was an impressive haul.

Adding to the day's success, none of the teams reported any additional cut lines - save the one Papa had taken down, which the Nutria had gotten tangled in. Plus, the hunters had all returned in good health and high spirits. Sure, they were bone-weary and ready to hit the sack. But just as anxious to see what tomorrow would bring.

So after bidding the tired troops goodnight, Trixie, Honey, and Hallie had washed up the last of the dinner dishes, then headed back to their cottage, too, wondering what excitement awaited them in the morning.


Once inside their cabin, however, the Sleepyside Miss Belden found she wasn't quite ready to go to bed after having had an afternoon cat nap. So her equally wide-awake cousin suggested the girls flip on the T.V. set and see if there was any news on Dr. Guidry. And Honey seconded the motion. She knew the girls would all sleep better if the gentleman had been found.

But as the three crowded onto the couch and the Idaho girl began scrolling through the channels, there came a knock on their cabin door.

Getting up to answer it, Trixie found Mart pacing impatiently on the porch. As he took his sister by the arm and pulled her outside, the anxious boy whispered, "Were you able to secure the stuff I wanted, Trix? I would have inquired earlier but feared the competition might overhear."

Trixie rolled her eyes. "You mean Jim and Dan?" she asked, shutting the door behind her. "Yeah, I was able to get it. What are you up to, Mart?"

The boy with the crew cut scratched his head and appeared sheepish. "If I show in the morning, will you promise not to tell a living soul?" he asked.

"Sure, whatever," Trixie returned, in a hurry to go back in. The sun was going down, and mosquitos were coming out. At least Honey had been successful in fixing the screen in their loft.

"But I warn you, Mart," Miss Belden went on, dropping her voice so it was barely audible. "Hallie's already told Beau and Cap about the die and clam juice. Miss Big Mouth was with Honey and me when we went shopping this morning if you remember."

"It was a calculated risk," Mart admitted with a sigh. "Hopefully, without Moi's inventive genius, the trio failed to put two and two together?" he added with a question mark.

Trixie reached for the door handle. "I think you can rest assured they didn't come up with four," his sister laughed. "So come on, I'll get your bag. Your money, too," she added. "Hallie put the items on the resort's tab. You can thank her when we go in. She and Honey are watching T.V. hoping to find some news on Dr. Guidry." The girls had told the boys about the missing biologist at supper.


Trixie had dumped Mart's package on the dining room table and hung her purse over one of the chairs when the girls had returned from shopping. And as she rushed to fetch them, her beefy brother made himself at home on the couch by wedging between Honey and Hallie.

"Outstanding cleaning job today," the curly-haired girl overheard her brother tell Miss Wheeler. "But if Moi may make one wee suggestion, my dear. A chocolate mint, left on the pillow, provides a special treat before one rests their head."

Rejoining the others, Trixie scoffed. "With the mess we had to clean up today, you're lucky you didn't find pink slime on your pillow, Your Highness."

Honey giggled as Trixie thrust Mart his bag, but Hallie quickly hushed her.

"Listen up," the Idaho girl said. "They found the ol' professor. Looks like he's still alive and kickin'. Apparently, he wasn't lost. Just on the trail of somethin', he's callin' a Dire Wolf."

"A Dire Wolf!?" Mart exclaimed with a howl, "I do believe the good doctor's gone daft!"

"Is that another name for the Red Wolf?" Honey asked, recalling Dr. Guidry's research.

Mart patted Honey's knee. "Hardly," he returned. "The Dire Wolf went extinct around 10,000 years ago, Hon. From their fossilized remains, it's estimated the prehistoric canine could have weighed up to two hundred pounds and had the similar length and girth as a thirteen-year-old boy."

Collapsing into a nearby chair, Trixie stared at Mart. Her brother wasn't much older than thirteen. And as she imagined the young man morphing into a wolf, she gripped the arms of her seat so tightly her fingers turned blue. Could Dr. Guidry actually have encountered a…." No! The horrified young lady wouldn't allow herself to think such a thought. The professor had to be delusional!

And Mart was of a similar mind. "I do believe in his quest to forage food, the poor fellow must have secured some hallucinogenic mushrooms," he'd added, hoping to put a quivering Honey at ease.

That's when Trixie's attention was drawn back to the television screen. A comely reporter had just held up her microphone to Warden Hebert. "Sir, is there any proof of Dr. Guidry's claim? Aren't Dire Wolves thought to have died out during the last ice age?" the buxom blonde asked the officer.

"The Department of Game and Fisheries does not wish to issue a statement at this time," the stone-faced Lieutenant returned. "Dr. Guidry was suffering from extreme heat exhaustion and dehydration when the rescue team located him. He's been taken to the regional medical center for evaluation but is expected to make a full recovery."

Hallie hooted. "That's a mighty fancy way of sayin' no, and the professor's as crazy as a cuckoo bird," she crowed. But as the station returned to its regular programming, the tall girl handed the remote to Honey and went out on the porch to call her mother. Mrs. Belden would be relieved to know that her friend was safe.

"I suppose that's my queue to be going," Mart announced, rising to his feet. "Thanks for picking up my stuff," he added to his sister.

"You can thank Beau's Mom for the neon food die," Trixie replied, opening up her purse. "We could only find red, but she traded us the pink." Reaching for her billfold to return Mart's moola Trixie instead pulled out something else red in color. Dropping it to the floor, she let out a startled shriek!

Reaching for the odd woolen figure, the creeped-out girl's brother laughed. "I should have figured you'd get that voodoo doll," he chuckled. "How much did it set you back, dear sister?"

Mart tried to return the grotesque talisman to Trixie, but she refused to take it.

"That thing's not a voodoo doll," she said darkly. "It's what they call a poppet. And not that it's any of your business, Mr. Nosy, but I didn't buy it."

Mart grinned as he looked over at an equally disturbed Honey. "Then I take it this lovely delight is a piece of your fine needlework?" he asked humorously.

"Oh, no!" Honey returned emphatically, backing away as the boy held the love charm out to her.

"Well, it must have come from somewhere," Mart scoffed, tossing the doll on the sofa.

"It came from a shop called Swamp Mama's," Trixie replied. "But I don't know how it got in my purse, Mart...unless…?" The musing young lady's nostrils began to flare. Flying to the front door, she threw it open and hollered, "Hallie Belden, get in here this instant!"

Hallie rolled her blackberry eyes and told her mother she had to go before shutting down her phone. "Whatcha want, now, Cuz?" the lackluster girl drawled as she flip-flopped her way back inside.

Trixie scooped up the poppet and thrust it out to her cousin. "You put this in my purse at the store, didn't you?!" she cried angrily.

"Ah, don't go gettin' your panties in a bunch," Hallie returned. "Ya wanted it, didn't ya?"

"Yes, I wanted it," Trixie returned hotly. "But not enough to steal it! For pity's sakes, Hallie. Some of us are used to not getting everything we want."

Hallie crossed her arms and grimaced. "Jeepers, Cuz. Didn't ya read the sign?" she asked. "Aunt Izzy makes those dumb things. She stuffs them with weeds she finds 'round the swamp. Aunt Izzy woulda given it to ya if she knew ya wanted it. She sells 'em on commission."

Trixie felt like strangling the clueless teen. Hallie might as well have taken money from her great aunt and Mama Marie's pockets. A lot of time and effort had gone into making the poppet. Trixie and Honey had gathered wild herbs in Martin's Marsh back home when their teacher's collection had been ruined. It had been hard work!

No wonder Madam Dupart had given the girls the evil eye. She must have seen Hallie swipe the doll.

"Well, I can tell you one thing, Hallie Belden," Trixie growled, "Tomorrow, you're taking this poppet back to Mama Marie with an apology."

The Idaho girl stuffed her cell phone into the rear pocket of her cut-offs. "Like heck I am," she snorted. "Tomorrow, this gal is goin' gator huntin'. I only gottcha that thing to thank ya, Cuz. You know, for comin' to help Papa and all. Maybe it's not a voodoo doll. But I figured ya could still pretend it was Fuzz-Head and stick pins in the crazy thing. But if ya don't want it? Ya can throw it away for all I care."

"Like Dan did the wooden horse he gave you?!" Trixie's mind wanted to scream out. But instead, she insisted, "Oh yes, you are taking it back, dear cousin. And if you must know, I was only shopping for a voodoo doll so I could stick pins in you for making me come on this stupid trip!"

Honey gasped, and Trixie's brother grabbed his sister's arm. The Sleepyside Miss Belden looked as if she might go for their relative's long neck.

And that's when Hallie sought out her duffel bag." I'm goin' to go stay with Mom and Papa," she announced coldly. "As far as I'm concerned, you're no longer a cousin of mine, Beatrix Belden. I hear by disown ya, just like Bernie did his mom!"

Slinging her heavy bag across her shoulder, Hallie then headed for the door in a thundery cloud, and Trixie threw the red poppet at her.

"That's fine with me!" she screamed as the young lady started out. "I disown you too, Halimeda Belden! Good riddance to you!"

Trixie then slammed the door so hard behind the huffy young lady that the coverlet over the deer head slipped to the floor.

"Now you've gone and done it," the lifeless creature's black marble eyes declared, glaring at the unglued girl.

And Trixie pursed her lips. "Oh, shut up," she grumbled.