Chapter 24:
A Harmless Concoction
"Holey Houdini, he's coming undone!" Trixie screamed, bracing her foot against the edge of the boat. "Hurry Max! Grab the gun! Shoot him, shoot him! It's now or never!"
The gargantuan gator, hooked perilously in the jaw, had been dragging the humble skiff back and forth like a toy on a string for the last ten minutes, attempting to slip the women's steely barb. Meanwhile, Miss Belden and her captain had been clinging to the line for dear life, hoping the brutish beast would wear itself out. Only the great escape artist wasn't showing any sign of slowing down!
"Are you sure you can handle him?" Maxine returned with a cry, not at all certain she's be able to wrangle the near- mythical creature in the frantic girl's place.
Trixie nodded, showering her hesitant captain with a cascade of collected rain droplets from the hood of her jacket. "We won't know unless I try," she returned, in truth. "So on the count of three, go for it! One, two, THREE!"
As Maxine released her hold and went for her loaded .22, Trixie felt her arms being ripped from their sockets. Her eyes filled with tears, and her brain ordered her to let go of the malicious monster on the other end of the line. Yet the determined girl gritted her teeth and gave a fighting heave-ho.
As the angered alligator's massive head butted the side of the boat with a thud, Maxine was presented with a near-perfect shot. Only before the skilled marksman could squeeze the trigger, the gator gave a mighty roll, and the taut twine sliced through Trixie's gloves like a hot knife through butter. Wincing in pain, Miss Belden never-the-less hauled again and this time was awarded with an ear-ringing blast. The legendary Houdini had met his match. The fatal tug-of-war was finally over.
Releasing exhilarated whoops of victory, Trixie and her elated captain exchanged a quick high-five. But the hyped-up huntresses' biggest battle was still ahead of them. They had to get the prize-winning mastodon into the crowded skiff.
Thankfully, Max had a small winching system on the boat, which she and her deckhand used when they needed help hauling in the bigger gators. But Houdini was no ordinary Alligatoridae, as Mart would say. He was a dinosaur, and the two petite women were running on empty.
Adding to the ladies' plight, the tempestuous storm was showing no mercy. The bushwhacked women needed to seek safety as soon as possible. Trixie hoped catching Houdini hadn't used up the last of her and Maxine's luck. It was premature to celebrate when they still had work to do.
So, as Miss Belden struggled to keep the gator at the water's surface using the line, her captain wrapped a worn-out strap around the gator's great head. Maxine then attached the beast's binding to the electric hoist. "I'm going to need your help guiding this whopper in," she told Trixie. "When I start up the winch, I want you to wrap the line around the dock cleat to your left and then grab the gator's nearest leg. He's got to be a good seven hundred pounds, and a hoist of this size can only do so much. It'll be a miracle if we don't burn up the motor or snap the pole mount."
Trixie gulped and nodded her understanding. Without the device, the women's chance of getting Houdini out of the water was slim. So, as Maxine set the winch into motion and Miss Belden tied off the line, the teenager said a little prayer.
Only as the alligator's front torso slowly began to rise, and Trixie reached for its foot, she noticed crimson rain dotting the bayou. But wasn't rain. It was blood from where the line had slashed through the young lady's glove into her palm.
And that's when Miss Belden felt the creature stir beneath her wounded hand.
As the diabolical devil's eyes popped open and the beast let out an evil hiss, the horrified New Yorker cried, "Max, he's still alive!" This was no muscle spasm!
Papa's female captain instantly reached for her rifle. Placing the gun's barrel against the quarter-sized kill spot at the back of the rabid reptile's head, Maxine let him have it!
As the gator again went limp, the livid huntress growled and slugged the beast with the butt of her .22. This time, Max was making sure Houdini was good and dead! The old trickster wasn't going to fool her again.
Twenty back-breaking minutes later, Trixie and her captain finally had Houdini situated in the boat with a tag in his tail. Well, he was almost in the boat. A good portion of the alligator's snout, with its pink-tinged gums and frightening teeth, hung over the bow. The king-sized ogre was too big to fit any other way. But the long and short of it was the taxing job was done, and the relieved ladies could finally head for the boat launch.
So as Maxine weaseled her way to the rear of the jam-packed skiff, Trixie apprehensively took a seat atop the women's record-breaking catch. She would rather have not, not after the brute's last rise from the dead. But the uneasy girl had no other choice. The boat was filled beyond capacity.
In fact, as Max fired up the tired motor, Miss Belden realized just how low the craft was sitting in the choppy water. One good swell and the huntresses would be swamped. They'd lose everything they'd worked so hard for, and that definitely wasn't something Trixie wanted.
But neither did her cautious captain.
As Maxine slowly piloted the boat toward Saint Estelle, she did her best to keep the skiff on an even keel. Miss Belden would have preferred if the veteran fisherwoman had put the pedal to the metal, as they say. The impatient teen felt the longer the two women were on the water, the more that could go wrong.
But Trixie also had a hunch that something already wasn't right. Maxine's face had lost all its girlishness, and she'd grown reticent. True, it was near impossible to talk over the rain and thunder. But with a catch like Houdini, Miss Belden would have at least expected to see a small smile on her captain's face.
Only that's when Trixie picked up on the faint odor of plastic melting. It was the same electrical smell Moms' blender had given off when it bit the bullet. The concerned young lady worried that the straining motor might be about to meet the same fate.
And sure enough, not five minutes later, as the women were approaching Boozer's Bend, the outboard motor sputtered to a halt. Maxine was able to get the cranky contraption going again. But as the ladies entered the cove, where they'd caught their first gator, it gave up the ghost, seemingly for good.
Trixie and Maxine were in trouble. With lightning striking all around, they were no more than sitting ducks. Worse, the boat was taking on water faster than the bilge pump could remove it.
"If we're going to get back to town, we'll have to dump Houdini," a grim-faced Max told her alarmed deckhand. I hate to do it, but the ornery critter is just too heavy. Maybe without his weight, I can get the motor going, and we can limp our way in."
"Oh, Maxine! You're not suggesting we throw in the towel, now?! " Trixie cried with desperation. "If we can get Houdini up on the bank, we can return for him once we unload the other gators. Please, Max. Can't we at least give it a try?"
But Maxine wasn't to be swayed. "Trixie, listen to me," she said, gently shaking the upset girl by her shoulders. "We're sinking. We'll never make it to the bank. I'm sorry, but ditching Houdini is our only hope. We need to act fast. We need to try to save as many gators as we can. So come on! Help me roll this beast into the water."
Trixie couldn't believe her ears! After everything the women had been through, how could they just give up? The giant gator would bring top dollar at the buyers. Max would receive a nice bonus, and Miss Belden would win the deckhand competition – and oh, how Trixie wanted to win! If she and Maxine threw Houdini back, no one would ever believe they'd actually caught him.
Ready to pull out her curls, Trixie Belden groaned, knowing full well she had no choice but to do as her captain asked. The distraught girl knew more than the gators were at risk if the boat went down. She and Max might just meet the same fate as Gervais LeBlanc—and chillingly, in the very same curve of the bayou!
But unlike Gervais, the angels seemed to be smiling upon the two tired huntresses. For as Trixie was helping Max push Houdini off the other gators and up on his side, she heard the loud thrum of an airboat approaching. Help was on its way!
Or so Trixie thought. Immediately stopping what she was doing, the excited teen yelled at the top of her lungs and waved frantically, hoping to flag the fisherman down. But the silvery watercraft, with its massive fan-like propeller, just kept on going down the watery artery. Its pilot had been wearing noise-canceling headphones. He hadn't heard the Sleepyside girl's call!
"It's no use," Maxine told the distraught teenager. "Even if he'd heard you, Trixie, he wouldn't have stopped. That was Mr. Foret. I'm sure he recognized my boat."
Again, Trixie couldn't believe what she was hearing. Surely something so silly as a feud wouldn't keep Mr. Foret from coming to their aid? True, the man was Papa's biggest rival. And Houdini had to be the catch of the century. But not help two damsels in distress - especially when the code of the swamp was neighbors helped neighbors? Miss Belden couldn't even comprehend the idea Mr. Foret hadn't stopped!
But Trixie didn't know that airboats couldn't stop on a dime. And as the LeBlanc's seemingly stone-hearted neighbor reached the widest part of the bend, he took a broad swerve, sending a rooster tail of water high into the air. Mr. Foret was making a U-turn. Hooray for Mr. Foret!
Nearing the ladies' skiff, the older man cut his engine, letting his vessel drift. "Afternoon, Maxie," Mr. Foret called from his high-rise seat. "Needin' some help, are you now? Merry Christmas, that's a fine gator you've got yourself, there."
Trixie grinned and removed her work gloves. She would have mistaken Mr. Foret for Santa Claus if he hadn't been wearing camo. The man's long white beard nearly reached his round belly, and his bright blue eyes twinkled merrily as he sized up the women's prize catch. Mr. Foret, who'd been out hunting solo, had three enormous alligators of his own, but not one was anywhere near a match to Houdini.
"He may be a beaut, but I'm afraid he's got us in a bit of a pickle," Maxine returned, lowering her hood as the sky overhead brightened. "The boat can't handle his weight, Marcel. This bad boy's already taken out our motor, and now he's working on the bilge pump."
"We were about to dump Houdini back into the bayou when you came up!" Trixie exclaimed dramatically, bursting into the conversation. "That's the big alligator's name, Mr. Foret," she added. "Until today, he's been slipping everybody's line, you see."
The man in the airboat chuckled and climbed down from his perch. "Well, criminy," he said. "Looks like I got here just in the nick of time, don't it? Tossin' a gator like that back would be nuthin' short of sacrilegious, young lady. Shame on you, Maxine," he added to Trixie's captain.
Mr. Foret then grabbed his bait bucket and dumped its stinky contents overboard. Tossing the empty bucket to Trixie, he instructed the stunned girl to start bailing. "I want every drop of water out of that boat," he told her. "Your captain and I are gonna off-load your gators into mine -all but that bigun, that is. That should raise this tin can enough that I can haul her in. That OK with you, Maxie?"
Maxine nodded appreciatively. "That'd be fantastic, Marcel," she said. "Thank you. I know towing with an airboat can be dangerous. If the rope breaks or comes loose, it can fly back into your prop and damage it. Are you sure you're willing to take the risk?"
Reaching for one of the ladies' smaller alligators, Mr. Foret grunted, "Sure, I'm sure. Only there's one condition, Maxi-girl. You gotta clip the tag in your big gator's tail. The only tag that fella's wearin' into the buyer's is gonna be mine. As far as anyone's concerned? I slayed that huge dragon singlehandedly. Ah yes! It's gonna feel mighty good to be wearni' that crown again."
Trixie very nearly fell in the bayou! Like heck, they were handing Houdini over to Mr. Foret! Why Papa would rather the ladies toss the beast back into the bayou than do such a thing!
But as Maxine laughed and the scruffy man gave Miss Belden's captain a wink, the teenager turned red and returned to bailing. Mr. Foret had apparently been joshing.
At T.'s Seafood and Tannery, the ladies from Anglers' Landing were caught up in a rush of concerned people.
Sweeping Maxine into his arms, Uncle Sam exclaimed, "Thank goodness you're safe. Jim and I were about to come looking for the two of you. You should have been back hours ago, Max."
Trixie smiled. The couple's embrace made it evident that they truly loved one another, and Miss Belden wondered what it would feel like to have Jim hold her in such a way.
Only it was Mr. Belden who grabbed Trixie in a big bear hug. "Young lady, you're going to be the death of me," her father said.
Trixie giggled, thinking likely so. She did have a special knack for stressing the poor man out. But Daddy wasn't the only one who'd been worried about Goldilocks—so had her three bears.
"Gleeps, Trix. I didn't know what had happened to you," Jim admitted, sheepishly raking back his hair. "I was about to come unglued."
"You and me both," Dan remarked, pushing his red-headed buddy aside so he could have his turn at welcoming the pretty girl home. "I just about wore a grove in the pavement, pacing back and forth, Trixie."
That's when Beau took center stage. "I told the fellas it was too early to be fretting," he told an overwhelmed Miss Belden. "Knowing Max, my guess was she'd pulled up to an abandoned Camp where you two could wait out the storm. But holy mackerel, Goldie! When Sam said you were hunting Boozer's Bend? All that went out the window. You can't believe the stuff I was thinking."
Hallie snorted and jammed her hands into the back pockets of her cut-offs. She'd exchanged her boots for her more comfortable flip-flops and joined the mostly male crowd. "Beau thought a ghost had gotten a holda ya," the tall girl chuckled. "But I figured you had Maxine on the gator poacher's trail. That is what delayed ya, isn't it, Cuz?"
Trixie wished she could tell Miss Sugar-Pops it was. The Sleepyside girl felt no closer to nabbing the rotten criminal than when she'd left that morning. The huntresses' brief run-in with Sheriff Theriot and Miss Izzy was interesting. But Detective Belden didn't mention her suspicions about the bird-watching duo to Hallie and the boys.
In fact, Trixie was about to reveal what had really gone down out on the water when Papa LeBlanc boomed, "Honestly, Maxine. You shoulda been back in at the first crack of lightenin'. What the heck got into you, girl?"
That's when a grinning Max climbed into her boat. Tossing back the tarp, the proud captain unveiled Houdini.
As pandemonium swept the buying arena, hands were shaken, pictures were snapped, and Trixie and Max were heralded queens. It was like a dream come true! Why, even Miss Camille patted the New York Miss Belden on her back, telling her what an outstanding job she'd done.
But amid all this hoopla, shying from the spotlight, Mr. Foret had been quietly unloading his gators. Only this all was about to change. Maxine was going to see that the noble man got his due.
"If it weren't for Mr. Foret, Trixie and I would have been forced to toss Houdini back," Max told Papa and the stunned Anglers' Landing team. "If Marcel hadn't lightened our load and given us a tow, we'd still be stranded on Bayou Chevrette."
Mr. LeBlanc Senior raised his shaggy eyebrows and marched over to his sworn enemy. Extending his hand, Papa thanked Mr. Foret for "rescuin' his girls". "That was mighty neighborly of you, Marcel," Papa went on to say. "And speaking of neighborly. About that dock of yours and your unfilled tags…"
Mr. Foret and Papa then began hashing out their plans for Sunday, and Trixie smiled, feeling Gervais LeBlanc might finally have some peace. Her own peace, however, was starting to come into question. As the fourteen-foot-three-inch Houdini was hoisted into the air, the worn-out girl felt the adrenaline rush from her body.
Seeing the frightening monster rising before her like a scaly skyscraper humbled the petite teen. Uncle T. had told the young lady that the gator had to be close to sixty years old when he'd been measuring him. How Houdini had eluded hunters for so long was an incredible mystery no one would ever solve. And Trixie suddenly felt sick to her stomach and needed some privacy.
Seeking solitude on the sandbags stacked outside the cooler, Trixie sat down to think about her day.
A few minutes later, Cap joined her. "You OK," he asked quietly.
Trixie shrugged. "I'm not sure," she replied honestly. "I've never taken an animal's life before. I mean, obviously, I've squashed bugs. And in reality, I know I didn't pull the trigger that killed Houdini. But I brought him to his death just as surely as I had, Cap. How do you live with something like that? What makes my life more valuable than his in the grand scheme of things?"
Cap removed the lanyard tying back his ponytail, and shook his hair free. "I'm afraid I can't answer that, Trix," he returned solemnly. "But would it help if I said I understood?"
Trixie nodded and smiled softly. "I figured you would," she admitted, shooing away a mosquito. "I've learned a lot about myself today, Cap," the troubled young lady added. "And some of it not so good. I never thought I'd get caught up in the thrill of the hunt like I did. Of course, Max helped me understand the importance and gravity of what we were doing. And I definitely have a new respect for your mother's side of the family. But now that the excitement has worn off…I don't know. I think I'd rather stick to hunting criminals. Life on the Bayou sure is compelling. But I don't think I belong here."
Cap tapped his cousin's knee. "We all have our place in this world," he told her. "Only I have a hunch Beau will be mighty disappointed when he learns yours isn't in Louisiana. I think he's been hoping you might want to stick around."
Trixie laughed and shoved the teasing boy. "All the more reason to be going home," she admitted. "But I'm sure Hallie will be mighty happy when she learns I have no plans to stay."
"What's this about Hallie?" the Idaho girl drawled, lopping up on her grandfather's arm. "You two weasels aren't talkin' 'bout me behind my back again, are ya now?"
"What? Us?" Trixie giggled as the guilty pair rose to their feet. "When have Cap and I ever…"
Hallie crossed her arms and glared at her shorter cousin. "Don't even get me started," the stern girl interrupted. "It's time we were getting' back to Camp. But Papa wants to know what prize ya want for catchin' Houdini first, Cuz." From the tone of Hallie's voice, Trixie could tell the Idaho young lady was a bit jealous that the New Yorker had won the deckhand competition.
"That's right, Short Stuff," Mr. LeBlanc said, herding the teenagers toward their awaiting rides. "So what's it gonna be? Sky's the limit, young lady."
Trixie giggled and scratched her head. Since she and Max had caught Houdini using bait marinated in Mart's secret sauce, she supposed she ought to ask for a Turducken feast with all the fixings. But that's not what the boy's sister requested. "I think I'd like a pair of gator-skin boots," she told Papa.
As Hallie grumbled and turned greener than a shamrock, Papa declared, "Fine, fine. That's size seven and a half, right Shorty?"
"Actually, Sir, I'm going to need size eleven," Trixie said, bringing three puzzled looks. "You see, Mr. LeBlanc, I've got this little sister with real big clod-hoppers who's got a birthday coming up. And well, if you must know, I've gotten mighty tired of listening to her flip-flops. So, I thought the boots might make a really swell gift. Don't you think they'd make a swell gift, Hallie?" she added impishly.
"Do I?" the flabbergasted girl exploded. "You bet your sweet bippy, I do! Only I don't git that bit about flip-flops, Cuz? Everybody loves my flip-flops. Why, Beau says…."
As Papa LeBlanc and Chaplain let loose with the snickers, Trixie simply rolled her eyes.
Upon returning to Camp, Trixie was blown away when she found her brother in the outdoor kitchen, yakking away with Honey. The boy, who looked as healthy as an ox, was flipping burgers at the grill wearing a screaming green T-shirt with his faded blue jeans. Standing next to the neon on explosion, Honey was dressed just as brightly. Aunts Liz and Renee were off welcoming home their husbands.
"Well, if it isn't the Princess of the Bayou," Mart remarked, waving his spatula. "Quite a catch today, Your Majesty. Hallie texted Honey a picture of you and Max with Houdini. You'll excuse me if I don't bow down to your Excellency?"
Trixie's face fell. She'd been anxious to tell her brother and best friend about her exciting day. Miss Belden didn't know that her blabbermouth cousin had spoiled her big, make that gigantic surprise.
"Glad to see you're feeling better," Trixie told Mart, stealing a slice of cheddar from the cutting board on the counter. "You seemed to have snapped back rather quickly?" Miss Belden was starving, and the sizzling meat made her mouth water.
As her grinning brother gave his sister a wink, Honey's hazel eyes grew wide, and she replied, "When Mrs. Robert stopped by to check on Mart this morning, she pronounced him fit as a fiddle. Isn't that amazing, Trixie? When I asked dear woman how that could be, she claimed it was just another of God's little miracles."
Trixie snorted as she went to the fridge to see what else she might find to snack on to hold her until dinner. "Miracle, huh?" she said dubiously over her shoulder. Miss Belden was now pretty sure her sneaky sibling had faked his illness so she could go hunting. It was a nice thing for him to have done. But Trixie saved her thanks. She didn't want to embarrass Mart in front of Honey. "I guess that means you'll be going gator hunting with Max tomorrow?" she asked her brother, changing the subject.
"Indeed so," Mart returned, motioning to Honey to hand him the pepper mill. "This will free you and Miss Watson to visit Storybook Land. It's come to my attention that there is a particular gingerbread house you wish to investigate. And whilst I admit it's one of your better ideas, Moi would advise you to keep your distance from the stove if you wish not to get burned."
Detective Belden closed the refrigerator door and eyed her partner with surprise. "You told Mart we planned to check out Aunt Izzy's?" she gasped.
Honey nodded sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Trixie. It just slipped out," she replied. "You see when Mrs. Robert was here, and she declared that Mart was well, well, the lovely woman offered to give us a personal tour of Gator Gardens between rain showers.
Mart said he'd love to go, but I was hesitant. I mentioned how you and I had been hoping to go today after visiting Aunt Izzy."
Trixie smiled. Honey was always thinking of others before herself. Besides, no harm done, really. Mart wasn't exactly going to stop the girls from snooping around the crazy woman's place. In fact, he'd be the first to join them if given the opportunity. "So, did you and Mart end up going to the park?" Trixie inquired.
Mart scoffed and displayed the front of his tee. "What do you think, lamebrain?" he asked.
Trixie giggled, wondering if her powers of observation were slipping. Screen-printed in black on the front of her brother's shirt was a big alligator head with the logo "Gator Gardens" underneath it. "Oops, I guess you did," she laughed.
Honey grinned and displayed her own tee. "Mrs. Robert talked us into it," she revealed. "See? Mart and I match. I picked up our shirts in the gift shop."
Trixie giggled. The silly pair did match. "Did you get T-shirts for Regan and Brian, too?" she wondered.
"Just Regan," Honey returned. "Mart pointed out that Brian doesn't usually wear T-shirts, Trixie."
Miss Belden lifted a sandy eyebrow. "How nice of Mart," she thought suspiciously. That's when Trixie noticed her best friend's new pendant. "Is that a gator tooth around your neck?" the disbelieving young lady hooted. Clearly, it was.
Honey giggled and blushed. "Mart bought it for me," she revealed.
"I purchased the trinket to commemorate the lovely Miss Wheeler's daring glide across the mississippiensis habitat," the colorful cook explained as his sister stared at him open-mouthed, wondering what Brian was going to say about his little brother gifting his favorite girl. "Many Native American cultures regard alligator teeth as symbols of might and courage, oh, one–of-little-knowledge."
Honey laughed and gave the young man a shove. "I'd hardly call what I did brave," she said. "I screamed the whole way across the alligator pond, Trixie. But Mart and I had so much fun!
You'd absolutely love the Park's nursery. Mrs. Robert calls the alligators her babies and names each one. I got to feed little Brucie, and he was just adorable! I can understand how Mrs. Robert gets so attached to the alligators."
Trixie took a seat on one of the ice-chests. She was worn out, and even standing seemed a chore. "If I were Mrs. Robert, I don't think I'd be treating the gators as pets, Honey," she said. "Not knowing I'd eventually have to release those 'babies' into the wild to be hunted, or worse, sell them for meat and whatnot."
"Oh, I agree," Honey replied. "And I asked Mrs. Robert if she didn't find that part difficult. And do you know what, Trixie? The poor lady nearly broke down in tears. Mrs. Robert told Mart and me she doesn't like to think about such things."
"Gleeps, isn't that the whole reason she and her husband raise the alligators?" Miss Belden returned.
"Indeed," Mart replied, transferring the completed burgers to a tray in the oven to keep warm until dinner. "I imagine, come D-Day, the dear woman calms her nerves by imbibing ginger tea. That stuff would sedate a raging rhinoceros. One cup before bedtime, and my head was in the clouds. I didn't know what was happening around me – nor did I care."
Mart made Mrs. Robert's seemingly harmless concoction sound like a strong narcotic, and Trixie giggled. If the tea really was as potent as her brother claimed, it was no wonder that the men and women of the Game and Fishery hadn't caught the poacher yet. Trixie recalled that Mrs. Robert had been taking tea and cookies to Lt. Herbert and his people.
And that's when it hit her. Perhaps drugging the law enforcement officers had been part of the trusted traiteur's devious plot!
Jumping to her feet, Trixie cried, "Oh my word! I think I know who's been cutting hunters' alligator lines! It's Mrs. Robert! All this time, she's been trying to protect the babies she raised and set free!"
Honey and Mart stared at one another, dumb-faced.
"Oh, Trixie, I don't know?" Miss Wheeler was the first to reply, "I mean…well… I suppose it is possible?"
"For a sweet little old lady, the dear woman does seem a bit off her rocker," Mart concurred.
"Exactly! " Trixie exclaimed with a victorious shake of her fist. "If you ask me, Mrs. Robert is as dizzy as Aunt Izzy. Why, the two women are probably in cahoots. According to Aunt Liz, Mrs. Robert and Papa's sister are best friends."
Honey, put down the potato she'd been peeling. "I sure hope you're wrong, Trixie," she said. "I like Mrs. Robert. I wouldn't want to have to turn her into the sheriff."
Miss Belden snorted and told her friend and brother about seeing Sheriff Theriot and Aunt Izzy on the bayou that morning. "I wouldn't worry about Mrs. Robert getting tossed behind bars, Honey," she concluded. "My guess is the crafty woman has the sheriff on her side. If anything, she'll probably just get a slap on the wrist and have to pay a small fine."
"And that's only if you flatfoots can prove the woman is culpable," Mart pointed out, closing the hood of the grill. "My advice? Butt out, Buttinski."
Only Detective Belden knew she could never look away! She had a reputation to protect. Somehow, some way, the determined girl was going to nail Mrs. Robert! Even little old ladies needed to learn that you didn't mess with Trixie Belden!
That evening, the folks of Anglers' Landing decided to eat their dinners at home. After the successful day's hunt and catching the monstrous Houdini, one would have thought they'd want to throw a party. But Mother Nature put a damper on that idea.
The parish was under a severe thunderstorm warning until eleven PM. High winds and hail were expected to accompany the front. So, as the hunters headed off to shower, Aunt Liz and Aunt Renee boxed up people's meals.
And Trixie thought just as well.
Sitting down at cottage three's small kitchen table, the exhausted girl knew she would have fallen asleep in her food if she weren't so famished. But oh, how delicious her vegetable-topped burger looked and smelled! Why, she could hardly wait to dig in!
But that would have been impolite. Honey and Hallie had yet to pull up chairs, but once the girls were situated, Trixie tied in.
And boy, oh boy, had it been worth the wait! The meaty sandwich was delicious! True, the spicy patty wasn't as juicy as one of Moms', but Mart had grilled it to perfection. And before she knew it, Miss Belden had polished off her supper.
"That hamburger really hit the spot," Trixie told her dinner mates, pushing back her chair and wishing for another. I've never had a burger that tasted quite like it."
Honey smiled and finished her fruit cup. "That's probably because it was made using ground venison," she replied.
"Aunt Liz mixes the stuff half and half with hamburger, Cuz," Hallie explained.
Trixie gulped and refolded her napkin. It wasn't like she hadn't eaten deer meat before. Mr. Maypenny's hunter's stew was chocked with venison and it was yummy-yum. So why had the young lady suddenly lost her appetite for dessert?
Trixie knew why, and she asked to be excused. There was something she needed to do.
Retreating to the living room, Miss Belden jumped as she heard a lightning crack nearby. It was followed by the crash of a tree, and then the lights flickered. It was a horrible night—not fit for man nor beast! And the disquieted girl shivered as she hurried to the fireplace.
Outside, rain was beating against the window glass, threatening to break in. And as the wind howled down the chimney, it stirred up the ashes of the girls' voodoo dolls—and who knows what else.
Trixie was chilled to the bone. But her intent wasn't to start a blaze to warm herself. No, the young lady had come to remove the afghan she'd tossed over the deer's head.
Miss Belden could no longer cover up that which she didn't want to see. Not that she really had. The truth always had a way of rearing its ugly head. You couldn't hide it.
So, folding up the crocheted coverlet, the disquieted young lady told the taxidermy creature how sorry she was for trying.
Miss Belden expected the horrible thing to say: "I told you so". That she should have gone home. That Trixie didn't belong at Anglers' Landing.
But the deer head said nothing. Its black ball eyes were simply lifeless marbles.
And that night, the girl who never cried, silently cried herself to sleep.