Home

Dan managed to get up early Sunday morning, shower, and stumble down to the patio where the Barretts were hosting breakfast for their houseguests as well as several other family members and friends who had been at the wedding. He hoped that some coffee and a good meal would give him the boost he needed for the long drive back to New York, as well as the confrontation he might have with Trixie.

By the time he had tiptoed out of Trixie's room shortly before dawn, Dan was reassured somewhat that he hadn't totally destroyed their relationship in the elevator the prior evening. He had laid awake for some time, worrying about any threat to Trixie's well-being once they returned to New York and how he'd handle it. While he knew that Trixie had excellent professional capabilities, he was torn between his instincts to protect someone he cared for and the knowledge that she would be insulted and refuse any attempt of his to do so. He knew that if their relationship was going to work, and there wasn't anything he wanted more, he had to allow her to pursue her own dreams and ambitions, and let her do her job. This may not be the last time he faced this type of situation. He finally had fallen asleep deciding that, regardless of what Trixie wanted, there were SOME things he could do for his own peace of mind.

Walking through the back parlor, he could see Trixie standing on the patio in the warm sunlight, talking to Judge Dalton. Eyes sparkling, she was smiling and speaking animatedly, giving no indication that she also had only a few hours sleep. Grabbing a mug of coffee from a tray carried by a passing waiter, he joined them. They were discussing several landmark criminal cases and Dan was surprised at both Trixie's knowledge of the cases as well as her appreciation of the legal complexities of what had made them landmark. He listened quietly for some time, beaming with pride.

Finally, after Trixie had politely corrected the Judge on the specifics of a court case, he gave her a big one-armed hug. "She's really something, isn't she Judge Dalton?"

The older gentleman smiled warmly. "I wouldn't expect anything less, Dan."

Trixie quickly excused herself to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Barrett.

The Judge watched her walk away. "Fascinating young woman. The two of you connect well together."

"We've been friends since high school." Knowing Trixie had always been uncomfortable with compliments and recognizing the blush that had appeared on her cheeks, Dan wondered if he should go after her. His eyes followed her as she walked across the patio.

"How long have you been in love with her?"

Dan jerked his head back towards his mentor, his mouth hanging open. "What?" he finally managed to spurt out.

Judge Dalton smiled knowingly at the young man. He reached over and placed his hand on Dan's shoulder. "I may be old, but not that old! I remember quite well what it was like to be completely enchanted by an intelligent, charming, and beautiful woman."

Dan grinned awkwardly.

"And I recognize a certain level of comfort and familiarity that only comes with healthy, long-term relationships." The Judge paused before continuing. "Ms. Gordon was bright and beautiful, too." He waited for Dan to comment, but Dan just stared, first at Judge Dalton and then over at Trixie, who had moved to the buffet table.

"They may look alike," he continued when Dan didn't reply. "But there's no comparison. I sincerely hope you'll never be confused by outward appearances." He waited again for Dan to respond. When Dan didn't, he continued, "Again."

Realizing that Dan was either completely ignorant that his feelings were so apparent to others, or, more likely, wasn't even aware of his feelings, the Judge felt it best not to say anything more. He had complete confidence in Dan's intelligence and instincts, despite his involvement with Jennifer Gordon. And he was confident that he'd left Dan with no doubts about his own opinions.

"Come on, let's get something to eat." The Judge headed towards the buffet table.

x x x

Brian Belden lay in bed, enjoying that nebulous area somewhere between sleep and being awake. He felt completely relaxed and satisfied in a way he hadn't been in a long time, even though his arms and legs ached a bit. He could smell fresh coffee and vanilla.

Something warm ran down his torso, tickling and playing with the dark hairs on his chest. He sighed as they began dancing lower.

"OH! MY! GOSH!" He opened his eyes and lifted his head. Just as he gasped for air, his mouth was covered with warm lips that tasted of mint toothpaste and coffee. "Mmmmm." was all he could manage to say, thinking that nothing had ever tasted sweeter.

"Good morning, Brian."

"Debbie?" As hard as he tried for it not to be, it was a question.

The vibrant redhead rolled on top of him, straddling his waist.

"Good lord, Debbie, you are...last night..." Brian opened his eyes wider to enjoy the vision before him. She leaned down, placing her hands on either side of his head.

"I don't know about you, Brian, but last night was..." she purred as she nibbled his ear. "I'm ready for a repeat performance."

Brian grabbed her around the waist and rolled her onto her back. Wide awake now, he smiled wickedly. "I'm up to it, if you are."

x x x

After enjoying a delicious breakfast, Dan and Trixie retrieved their luggage, thanked their hosts, and headed out for a long drive on what was certain to be congested highways. Trixie suggested they take a brief detour through downtown Charlottesville and the University, and Dan happily obliged. Trixie had found the city charming and the university grounds inspiring, and wanted a last look. Dan maneuvered the car slowly through downtown, past the Medical Center complex and "The Corner", then out University Avenue and to the Rotunda. Dan pulled over in a 'No Parking' area across from the Rotunda. He sat staring silently at it and the statue of Mr. Jefferson.

Trixie reached over and touched his hand. "You made the right decision to come here. You made wonderful friends. Judge Dalton said...You were law review, for Pete's sake. You DID belong here."

"I came, anyway," Dan smiled at her. "But I'll never give away my leather jacket, and I'll never be a Virginia Gentleman; just a Virginia Rake." They both laughed as he pulled the car back into traffic.

The two rode in comfortable silence through the city and past the sprawling housing developments and shopping centers along U.S. 29. It was a perfect fall day, with the peak of the seasonal color less than a week away. The rolling Piedmont hills were painted with bright splashes of red, orange, brown and green, framed by seemingly endless rows of white board fence, and topped by a cloudless blue sky.

Trixie sat back, enjoying the drive. By the time they got to Ruckersville, she was asleep.

Dan glanced over at her, hoping she would sleep at least until they got to Opal. He had an important stop to make there, and knew it was one she wouldn't like.

x x x

"Yes Mother." Honey Wheeler cradled the phone between her chin and shoulder. "I know...well I think it sounds romantic." She rolled her eyes at Barry as he came out of the bathroom, wearing only a thick yellow towel. He smiled and winked at her. His mother had the same social expectations and pretensions as Mrs. Wheeler.

It hadn't been necessary for Honey to call her mother that morning, as she'd promised Jim she would do. Mrs. Wheeler had called her first. Although Mrs. Wheeler had chosen not to express all her concerns about their wedding plans to Jim and Aggie the prior evening, she wasn't hesitating to share them with Honey.

"Don't worry Mother. I understand your concerns. I understand that we have certain social responsibilities. Jim does too, but..." Honey moved the phone over to her other ear. "If Daddy's..."

"No. I wouldn't think of that." Honey tried to reassure her mother that she wasn't planning to elope. She watched Barry as he started to dress. Mmmm...At least not yet.

"Frankly, Mother, they really want this private ceremony on the beach. I think it's a terrific idea for them to have something simple and romantic, and then a formal reception when they get back from their honeymoon." She got up and walked over to Barry. He was pulling on his trousers. She touched his shoulder and he turned to look at her. Shaking her head no and pointing to the clothes, she continued to talk to her mother. We'll have a great celebration when they get back from the cruise. I really don't have time to talk about the details right now, but I appreciate your offering. I know Aggie will appreciate any help you can provide. For now, why not outline whatever you want? Then we all can discuss the details together."

Barry nodded his understanding and let his pants fall back to the floor. Stepping out of them, he placed his hands on Honey's waist. Get rid of her, he mouthed as he walked her backwards towards the bed. Get. Rid. Of. Her. He pushed her onto the bed.

x x x

Dan stopped at the light where U.S. 17 joins Route 29 and Trixie stirred. She smiled groggily and stretched. "Where are we?"

"Almost to Warrenton. I want to stop just up the road."

"Fine. I could probably use a bathroom."

Dan didn't reply, since he was planning more than a restroom break. The light changed and he drove on a short distance before changing into the left lane and slowing down to turn. Trixie looked at the sign, Clark Brothers--Guns. She looked at the long, low building on the other side of the highway and groaned.

"What's this? Dan? Guns? Fireworks? And there's a BEAR on that roof!"

Dan pulled into the parking lot and found an empty space before saying anything. He grinned sheepishly at Trixie. "You know, it was you who said I should take advantage of the provision that allows ADAs to carry. I applied for my concealed weapon permit and..." he hesitated before continuing.

"And?" Trixie was noticeably agitated. "AND, Dan?"

"I thought we'd stop here so I could check out buying a gun."

"Why now? Why here?"

"This place is pretty well known for good prices and..." Dan turned off the ignition. "You know most of the guns in New York came from Virginia." He tried to smile, knowing there wasn't much of anything he could do to appease her.

"Most of the ILLEGAL weapons! If you've got your permit, you can buy something legally in New York."

"Yeah, but..." Dan reached down to open his door.

"I know exactly what you're doing, Mangan." Trixie realized now what was going on. "There's no waiting period in Virginia. You don't think I can take care of myself. You think you need to be armed around me? You need to get a gun before we even get to New York."

"No Trixie...not exactly. I..."

"Dammit, Mangan! I thought you...I thought you were different. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don't need armed escorts."

Dan turned and faced her. "I know that, Trixie. But I..."

"No! Don't you try to sweet-talk me. Mr. Gottatakecareofthelittlewoman. I..."

Dan grabbed her arm. "Trixie. Please."

"Okay." She pulled away. "Let's hear your lame explanation!"

"Trix, I...I DID get my permit to carry. I applied after you mentioned it...Long before we knew anything about your stalker or whatever, and for a number of reasons. Taking care of you, protecting you wasn't my primary concern." He paused. "There were several reasons and I'll admit that maybe you were one, but it was certainly secondary!" He quickly added. "There's Jen...you know I'm afraid that she will harm someone. She's already hurt herself! She's threatened me...and you. And my work. I mean, that's why I'm allowed the concealed permit in the first place. You might arrest bad guys, but I'm the one who sends them away. I'm not planning to go around half-cocked or anything!"

Trixie calmed down a bit.

"I have absolutely...I don't have a problem with your work. It's a part of who you are. An important part. I'd never ask you to change. Never! But I can't tell my heart not to care. No matter what I do, I'll always care about you and I'll care if you get hurt or are in danger...as you are now. I promise you I won't interfere with your work, no matter how difficult that might be. But I CANNOT...and I WILL NOT stand by waiting for something to happen and not be prepared, either.

Trixie stared at him. "I don't need..."

"I know. You don't need my protection. I know you can take pretty good care of yourself. I'm not questioning that." Dan struggled for the right words. "I just feel better getting a gun now, and not later."

"Lame, Mangan. Lame."

She's relenting. Thank you, Lord. Dan prayed silently before continuing. "I'm going to get a gun, Trixie. I can get one today, or wait until we get back to New York, but I'm getting a gun. If I get it today, I won't have to wait and I'll save a lot of money." He waited for her objections. When they didn't come, he continued. "I was hoping you'd help me pick out the right one." Trixie shrugged her acceptance as she opened her car door.

The next hour was spent looking at several models of handguns, finding one that was small, but not too small for Dan's rather large hand, and, at Dan's insistence, powerful. Dan had learned about hunting rifles from his uncle and Mr. Maypenny, but his knowledge of hand guns was limited. As a gang member, he had been careful to never carry one, knowing the consequences if he were caught. He relied on the advice of Trixie and the salesman about what to purchase. After he narrowed his selection, he tried three on the firing range behind the building, where his excellent eyesight, steady hand, and powerful concentration proved he was capable of safely handling a gun.

"Wow, Dan. I'm surprised." Trixie commented after he'd tried each gun several times.

He sidled a glance at her. "Yeah?"

Trixie crossed her arms and nodded. "It's not that easy to hit a target with a handgun. And you're steady as a rock. You're doing okay."

Dan took aim at another target, relieved that she seemed more accepting of his purchase after seeing he knew what he was doing.

Dan finally settled on a Glock37 which was about 7 inches long and weighed about 2 ½ pounds fully loaded. It was a powerful handgun, the recoil was controllable, and high-speed shooting sequences were relatively easy to accomplish. After selecting the leather and ammunition, Dan completed the necessary paperwork and turned his attention back to Trixie. Not only was Dan glad to have Trixie's experienced help, but allowing her to help him make the purchase had pushed aside her original objections. Almost.

They returned to the car and Dan placed his purchases in the trunk.

"Gee, Marshall Earp, I thought you'd want to strap it on before heading back to Dodge." Trixie commented dryly.

"Oh gee, Trixie, let's not start..." He looked around the raised lid of the trunk and saw her smiling. He smiled back. "I feel better." He closed the trunk, walked around, and opened the passenger door. "Trix." he pulled her to him before she could get in, grateful she didn't pull away. "I la...you are so important to me." He stepped back and took the door handle. "We have a long drive."

Once they were back on the road, Trixie watched silently as they sped through the Virginia countryside, reflecting on the weekend, her relationship with Dan, and the unsolved case waiting for her in New York. She avoided any mention of the package in the trunk of the car. Trixie accepted Dan's decision to have the gun, but despite his promises, had difficulty believing that he wouldn't somehow endanger her and himself now that he felt protected.

As they traveled north, leaving the Washington area and heading towards Baltimore, Trixie was reminded of the jovial discussion with Judge Dalton about his work with Eugene "Clean Gene" McCarthy. Judge Dalton had said he didn't know who was responsible for the moniker, but no one had mentioned where the term came from; why McCarthy was called that.

"Do you know why they called him 'Clean Gene'?" she blurted out.

"What?" Dan didn't understand what she meant.

"Sorry. Eugene McCarthy. Clean Gene. Where'd they get the name?"

"Gee. I dunno, Trix. He was a Senator from Minnesota and campaigned for President in 1968. He was very outspoken against the Vietnam War, which made him popular with the college kids. That's about all I really know. Except they didn't think he had a chance of getting elected and he surprised them in the primaries. So much so that Lyndon Johnson chose not to run for re-election."

"Mmmm...so he wanted to clean up Vietnam?"

"Something like that. Or maybe they thought he wasn't tainted by dirty politics."

Trixie nodded. Dan could see that she was engrossed in something.

Trixie looked over at him. "Clean Gene...Eugene..." she said aloud. "I know I've heard that before." She began bouncing in the seat. "Now I remember!" she practically shouted.

"A break in your case?" Dan glanced over to see that Trixie was back to staring out the side window again.

"I sure hope so," she said, sounding far away.

Sensing her need to mull over whatever she had just discovered, Dan drove on in silence, knowing Trixie's instincts were second to none.

x x x

Brian held Debbie's hand as he walked to the front door of her apartment. He stopped and turned to her. "Deb?"

She pulled her robe more tightly around her before stepping up close to him, all the while looking directly into his eyes.

He returned her deep, direct look with one of his own. "I don't know what to say. This is..." he fumbled for the right words. "I don't usually do this sort of thing."

She laughed softly. "And I do?"

"No! I didn't mean that! I...Last night...This morning." He stopped short and grinned mischievously at her. He rubbed the gold satin of her robe's lapel between his thumb and his forefinger. It reminded him of the feel of her skin and how she reacted to his stroking it. "I've never done anything like this before. I've never experienced anything like this. You are... It was great."

"Mmmm...it was." She pulled him to her and kissed him resolutely, wanting to be sure it would be a long time before he forgot what they had shared and hoping it might not be a long time before they shared it again.

"I work late tonight," Brian offered, pulling her to him. "Tomorrow?"

"Mmmm?" She kissed him again and he forgot what he was trying to say.

"Oh, the hell with tonight," he growled as her teasing lips and tongue pushed him beyond reason. "Now!" He lifted her and pushed her against the wall, pulling the robe open as she wrapped her legs around him.

x x x

Honey finally managed to send Barry on his way after he admitted he had skipped out of a meeting with the Governor's Chief of Staff the prior afternoon and needed to make amends that morning. Shutting the door behind him, she turned and leaned back against it, savoring the lingering feelings and emotions that Barry had stirred. Wrapping her arms around herself, she pondered the difficult decisions she might need to make in the near future. She knew that Barry's loving attention to her physical and emotional needs was motivated, either consciously or subconsciously, by a desire to keep her in Albany. And she was flattered. No, more than flattered. No one had ever been so attentive and caring. But she also knew how much he craved the sense of importance, of power, that his own career provided and she doubted he would sacrifice those for anything or anyone. She also knew that she had similar ambitions for herself and was slowly attaining those goals. Could she honestly turn down an offer from the Institute and stay with Barry? And could she ask him to consider moving to Richmond with her? Would he?

She looked down at herself, clad only in a yellow terry-cloth robe, and rubbed where the shoulder seam had ripped apart. Recalling the look of shock in Barry's eyes when it had torn in his frenzied rush to get it off her earlier that morning, she debated mending it or leaving it as a reminder. Smiling, she decided to leave it as it was. Perhaps it would inspire him again. He'd been insatiable these past weeks and had stirred similar longings from her. The only thing she knew for certain was that she was enjoying it. Immensely.

Walking towards the bathroom, she debated returning to the library or working at home for a while. Picking up Barry's discarded bath towel, she decided to work at home as long as possible. Maybe, if she were lucky, Barry would get away from work early.

x x x

It was after dark when Trixie and Dan finally entered Manhattan. Dan was able to find a parking space in front of Trixie's building, so he insisted on helping with her luggage. Once they got into her apartment, he walked through the single room, discreetly ensuring that all her windows were locked and there were no telltale signs of unwanted visitors.

"Dammit, Dan. I'm perfectly capable of sweeping a one-room apartment!" Trixie plopped down on the short sofa. "Go ahead. You'll not rest until it's done, I'm sure." She put her feet up on the wooden crate that served as a coffee table and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Dan smiled weakly, knowing it was futile to deny what he was doing. "Trixie, do you really think I can just leave here, not reassured that you're okay?"

"Dan, I don't need anyone trying to play big brother."

Dan laughed, knowing he had her. "I think we've discussed that before. I assure you Trix, that I do NOT want to be your brother." He walked over to the sofa and pulled her up. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her soundly. "My feelings are NOT brotherly," he murmured between kisses. "And it's not just about you anymore, Trix." He hesitated, not sure how to finish what he was saying. "It's about us. Just let me care. I care, dammit, I care."

Trixie felt all her resolve melt away. It was easy to melt into kisses like his. Despite her frustration, she knew he was right. He was entitled to some reassurance that she was safe. Realizing what he had just said, that it was now about us, she pulled him to her, cursing and loving this man who aroused such emotions in her.

x x x

Some time later, Brian made it out of Debbie's apartment and to his car. He headed back to his motel room for a quick shower and change of clothes before going into work. As he maneuvered through the traffic, he wondered if he had completely lost his self-control, his morality, his sanity, or perhaps all three. His relationship with Joyce also had started on impulse, but nothing like this. He had found Joyce attractive, but nothing like Debbie. His physical relationship with Joyce had been good, at least at the beginning, but nothing like this. When he and Debbie had finally cooled off enough to talk coherently, he'd realized that he had been attracted to her for some time and had been ignoring if not denying his feelings. Her intelligent and sympathetic green eyes, long legs and luscious curves had been impossible to hide, even in baggy nurse's scrubs. Her shining auburn hair, warm smile, and the enticing freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks, were obvious as well. But when he saw her laid back against those blue sheets with that long fiery mane spread across the pillow and her freckled shoulders, he'd never seen anything more tempting or beautiful. It aroused something in him he didn't know existed.

Brian pulled into a parking space and waited for his neighbor and her latest companion to make their way up the stairs and into her room. He glanced into the rear view mirror. The brown eyes looking back at him still had dark circles underneath, but didn't appear quite so sullen and tired as usual. He smiled as he spoke aloud.

"Belden, maybe you're not so boring after all."

x x x

Trixie finally pulled away from Dan and pushed him towards the door. "I have an early morning. You do, too."

Dan brushed a curl back from her forehead. "Mmmhuh." He sighed. "You know you can stay at my place. There's security and..."

Trixie shoved him.

He grinned. "I'm not suggesting...but if you want to."

"I want to stay here. I have work and..."

"You're gonna be okay?" He asked.

"I told you."

"No. I mean with. About us. You're not upset with me? The elevator? Or?"

She smiled, not sure how to answer. "It was a wonderful weekend," she finally offered. "Everything was wonderful. We...It's gonna be good, Danny," she murmured as she kissed him on the cheek. "Soooo good."

Dan opened the door, then turned. "Call me if anything..." Seeing her smile start to fade, he stopped short. "I'll call you tomorrow evening."

Trixie pushed him out and shut the door, making sure she locked the deadbolt. Pulling her hair back from her face and lifting it up off her neck, she headed for one of the dressers to look for a band. First she needed to get out of these clothes and into sweats; then she had to do something with her hair--three days was entirely too long to wear it down and she wanted desperately to get it up and away from her face; then she could start her research. She thought she just might know who it was, but not how to find her stalker.

Despite her fatigue from the long weekend, Trixie managed to go through all the files she had with her and do one quick search on the internet that got her nothing. Finally, deciding she couldn't do anything more until she got into work, she went to bed, setting the alarm to get up even earlier than usual.

xxx

Brian worked a full shift at the hospital that evening on virtually no sleep, but never realized it. His natural adrenalin pumped the entire time and he was still soaring when he returned to his motel room late that evening. He knew sleep was impossible and doing much else in that stuffy room was equally hopeless. He had noticed on the schedule board that Debbie had the next few days off from work, and he debated calling her. If he couldn't sleep he could at least go to bed. He laughed out loud at his silent joke. He looked at the cell phone where he had tossed it on the dresser. He walked over, picked it up, and scrolled to where he'd saved her number. He set it down cursing himself for even thinking he could call her this late.

He sat down in the threadbare chair and stared at the phone as it lay there, tempting him. He couldn't believe how he was behaving. He was acting like a horny school boy. He was acting like he'd never...well he HAD never enjoyed sex as much as last night. Cursing his lack of self-control and forgetting any consideration of the late hour, he jumped out of the chair, grabbed the phone and hit SEND.

x x x

It was dark when the buzzer sounded, but Trixie got out of bed and showered quickly, throwing her files into a satchel and heading for the subway station, getting there just in time to hop onto a train heading downtown.

"Dammit!" A man getting off the same train said aloud. He stopped suddenly and looked to see if he could hop back on.

"Excuse me?" A woman bumped into him. "Are you getting off or on?"

"I'm sorry ma'am." He apologized as he watched the doors close behind Trixie. He wondered why she was up and out so early. He hoped he knew, but he'd have to follow her to be certain.

x x x

Trixie was typing frantically when Erica came into the office later that morning. Draping her jacket over her chair, she asked Trixie if she wanted any coffee.

"No thanks. This is my third." Trixie nodded towards the stained blue mug sitting beside her keyboard.

"Three already? What got you here so early?"

"Research." Trixie mumbled as she continued pounding keys. Erika headed over to the communal coffee pot. She was eager to hear what her partner had discovered, but she figured she would need a hot mug of the office poison first.

When she returned, Trixie nodded toward the pile of phone messages sitting on her desk. "Some of our crazies from last week called," Erika sat down, knowing that wasn't what had energized her partner. "And I finally got through to the Dalys. They want to meet with us. Want to take a ride to Albany?"

"Dalys? The parents of that dead girl in Sleepyside?"

"Yeah. Apparently they're snowbirds and are heading off to Florida soon. We need to talk to them. They want to meet in person."

"And that's what's got you so fired up?"

"I think I have a lead."

Erica sat straight up. "Okay. Tell me. Fill me in."

Trixie spun the chair completely around, barely able to sit still. She had a break in the case. Her first case. "What do you know about the Sixties?"

x x x

Dan came out of a meeting with the Deputy District Attorney barely able to conceal his self-satisfaction and excitement. Once again, he'd garnered praise for his work and it had been rewarded by increasing his caseload. He realized he just might achieve what he'd wanted for so long. He was prosecuting criminals, ensuring they were taken off the streets and not corrupting scared young boys like he once had been. He was doing his work well, and being recognized for it. If he continued in this manner, he'd be appointed to a special division, preferably Juvenile and Domestic Relations, in no time. But he knew achieving that goal would require long hours, even more than he was working now. He wondered how he'd ever prove to Trixie that he was Mr. Right if he never had time to see her. Between both their demanding schedules...he chuckled when he realized he'd thought of himself as Mr. Right.

Leslie Grove watched as he walked out of the DDA's office and through the reception area. Everyone in the office knew he'd gone out-of-town over the weekend, and there had been speculation that he was taking the blonde detective with him. His contented smile and warm greeting confirmed it as far as she was concerned. He'd definitely had a pleasant weekend, most likely with a woman whose company he'd enjoyed. In fact, she was certain of that. She chuckled to herself, just as Dan had done, but her amusement was because she knew how disappointed some of the single women in the office would be when they learned Dashing Dan wasn't available.

Dan returned to his desk, looking for messages. There were none, but as he started to sit down, the phone rang.

"Dan Mangan."

"Hey Counselor."

"Trix." He sat down. Even though he was hoping she might call during the day, he was alarmed. "What's wrong?" Despite his trying, he couldn't conceal his concern.

"Da-aannnn!"

"Sorry. Let me rephrase that. How's it hangin' Detective?"

Fortunately, that made her laugh. "I just wanted to let you know I'm heading up to Albany for a couple of days. I'll be staying with Honey and returning tomorrow. So, if your ears are burning..."

"Albany?" He wondered if this was her lead--her break in the case.

"I'm interviewing some people. I finally got through to the parents of that dead girl from Sleepyside. They really seemed interested in talking to me, but were kinda' insistent I go up there."

"So you did find a link?" Dan smiled, wondering why he was asking. If Trixie's instincts told her there was a connection...well, he'd experienced those instincts first hand on many occasions.

"I'm still not sure, but I haven't given up on it. There are just too many loose ends on that case. Her father said he wasn't happy with that investigation and actually wants to talk to me about it."

"Does your boss know about THIS trip?"

Trixie hesitated. Dan feared she was off on another unauthorized trip. "The Captain knows I'm going to Albany. That's official. He knows I'm staying with Honey. He saw no problem with that."

"Trix..."

"I told him I was going to talk to the Dalys. He just shook his head and warned me that it had to be unofficial." Trixie paused before continuing. "He isn't any happier with this Task Force than I am. They're making even less progress than Erika and I made alone. He thinks my suspicions are 'interesting' and sees no harm in my talking to them, so he found a reason for me to go to Albany. I'm driving up this afternoon, going by the State Lab ON OFFICIAL BUSINESS and then meeting with the Dalys in the morning."

"You're going alone?" Dan wasn't happy with the idea of her driving that far alone. "Is it safe for you to go up there alone?"

"I'll be fine." Trixie forced a happy tone. "I always take my gun, Dan," she continued before he could object. "I have to go. I need to pack a bag and head up the road. I'll say hello to Honey for you and call when I get back tomorrow."

"Trix?" Dan started to speak but she'd hung up. "Be careful, Trix." He said into the disconnected phone line.

Trixie gathered up her files and headed towards a rear exit and the motor pool. After checking out an unmarked car, she headed out of the lot and towards her apartment to pack a bag. She would have preferred having Erica along on the trip, both for the company during the drive and to help with the interview, but it had been difficult enough to persuade the Captain to let her go. He was insistent that the meeting be unofficial. It had been equally difficult to persuade him that she would be safe traveling alone, but sending Erica would lend too much credibility to her escapade. And she was determined to do this. She was more convinced than ever that there was some connection between Liz Daly's murder and the current series of attacks on young woman, and she was determined to find it.

Fortunately her toilet articles were still packed from the weekend. While she was throwing a change of clothes into an overnight bag, she thought about how good it would be to run all her ideas and suspicions by Honey. In many ways the two young women were two halves of a whole. Trixie's instincts were her strongest asset, but even after several years of professional police work and formal training in investigative techniques, she often was too quick to act. Honey was far more methodological and meticulous in her investigative work; and her Masters Degree in Psychology was certainly an asset not shared by Trixie. Trixie headed out on her drive thankful for the opportunity to brainstorm with her dearest friend and colleague.

x x x

"You're pouting Barry." Honey Wheeler spoke into the phone as she walked over to the front window of her living room and looked down into the guest parking lot. Trixie was due to arrive at any time. She had asked Barry not to stay over that night, and he was complaining.

"I just don't see why I can't stay there," Barry argued. "Trixie knows we're back together. She stayed with us when we were living together." He paused. "Full-time."

Honey knew that Trixie wasn't thrilled at the idea that she and Barry were back together and she wanted to devote all her time to Trixie for this short and unexpected visit. She knew that Barry's presence would be a distraction, although a pleasant one. It had been incredible luck that she was off from work while Trixie would be in town. Not only would it be great to visit with her dearest friend, but she wanted Trixie to review her answers to the questions she'd prepared for the Institute for Forensic Science before she sent them off to Richmond. She and Trixie had always complemented each other perfectly, as friends and now as professionals; almost like two halves of a whole. While Honey's advanced degree provided her with certain technical expertise and she had great research and logistical skills, Trixie's instincts and practical application experience were invaluable. There were countless things her friend could teach her.

"I can tell by the tone of your voice, that you're not all that upset," Honey continued. They both knew he needed to catch up at work and would be late anyway, but Barry still wanted to make it clear to Honey that he intended to spend as much time with her as possible. "You're acting like a horny school boy. Oh! She's here, Barry. I need to go. I'll touch base with you tomorrow." Honey clicked off and rushed over to the front door to buzz her friend into the building.

Honey and Trixie spent the next hour getting Trixie settled in and catching up on personal news. While they spoke regularly on the phone, having had accrued large long-distance bills before getting cell-phones, it was never the same as sitting together talking face-to-face. And they both had a lot to share about their careers and recent romantic entanglements.

Trixie shared all the details about her weekend with Dan, except the episode in the elevator. She was too uncertain about her feelings about their relationship, especially their physical relationship, to discuss it with anyone, even Honey. The two young women also talked and giggled about Barry and the fringe benefits Honey was enjoying as he attempted to prove himself worthy of Honey's affections. Eventually the discussion moved on to Jim's wedding plans, Mart's recent job offer, Diana's new studio, and Brian's moving to Richmond. When Trixie mentioned, for not the first time, that Honey would have to look him up when she moved there, Honey quickly changed the subject. She asked Trixie about the case that brought her to Albany. Trixie pulled out her files and began reviewing them with Honey.

"The guy is clever, Honey. Almost too clever. He leaves virtually no evidence, no witnesses, no clues. In fact, were not absolutely certain it's a he!" She laughed. "And like any serial killer, he's getting more violent and the frequency of the attacks closer."

"That's characteristic, Trixie."

"I know. I know. And we can assume he won't stop until he's caught."

Honey asked to see the crime scene photographs. She began flipping through them and then laid them out on the coffee table. "These attacks seem to be personal." She looked up at her friend. "You're absolutely certain there's no connection between the victims? These don't look like random attacks. And they seem to all be from the back. Like he didn't want to be recognized. I'd almost swear the assailant knows them, may even be a family member."

Trixie shook her head. "There are physical similarities. They look alike. Around the same age, or at least look it." Honey nodded understanding. She could see that in the photographs. "We can't make any other connection. None. I tried breaking them down in small groups, comparing them by pairs, but can't make any connections other than physical appearance."

Honey nodded as she continued to look through the photographs. Finally, she pulled one out. "This is just a bit different. She's out-of-doors. Was she moved or?"

Trixie scooted closer to look at the photo. It was the West Point Cadet. "She was attacked nearby, just as she was entering her barracks, and dragged there. The others were all assaulted when they entered their residence or..."

"Barracks. So she was going into her residence, too." Honey said as she set the photograph down and sat back on the sofa. "Guess I'm not much help. You're the one with the real nose for these things, Trixie. But you shouldn't rule out a common denominator, especially a familial relationship. I can't help but think it's an old boyfriend or...You find that common denominator and you've..." She picked up a couple of the photographs and looked at them again. She shook her head. "It could it be he's reenacting the same crime, over and over. If so, you need to focus on the first..."

"I've been waiting to tell you about the Sleepyside connection and why I'm here in Albany." Trixie had purposely held back her suspicions about that crime to ensure that Honey's examination of the current attacks wasn't influenced.

"Sleepyside?" Honey wondered why she was surprised that there was some connection to Trixie and their hometown.

Trixie recounted the entire story of how the recent cases had reminded Chief Molinson of the Elizabeth Daly murder almost two decades earlier, and how it had bothered her ever since. She related how she had tried unsuccessfully to convince members of the Special Task Force that there might be a connection, so had pursued her own investigation. "I have a lot of unconnected dots right now, but I'm starting to see what's what and I really hope the Dalys can connect a few for me."

Honey shook her head. She knew that Trixie had great instincts, but was quick to jump to conclusions, too often wrong conclusions. "I don't know, Trixie. Let's suppose they ARE related, what has this guy been up to for twenty years? It would make sense if he'd been in jail all this time, but it's almost unheard of for someone to go this length of time without striking."

"You're getting to exactly what I've been thinking. These attacks are eerily like the one in Sleepyside, but Andy Trimmer has been in jail and still is. And he's claimed his innocence all along."

"Most do claim to be innocent," Honey interjected.

"Of course. But I'm convinced that either someone is copying the Daly murder, which may or may not help us now, or Mr. Trimmer is innocent. There's some connection. I feel it. And Rev. Daly says he was never happy with the investigation. I need to know why."

"They're old people. Even if they knew something twenty years ago..."

"They're sharp. And Reverend Daly told me he kept all his own records because he thought the police wouldn't. If he doesn't think Andy Trimmer is innocent, why would he be so willing to talk to me? Wouldn't he want Trimmer to just rot in jail?"

"He has records?" Honey perked up.

Trixie nodded. "I doubt he'll have anything more than I got from Chief Molinson, but..."

Honey was excited now. "It'd be interesting just to go through his papers and read about an old Sleepyside case. Do you think I can go when you meet with him tomorrow?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" Trixie laughed.

"Tomorrow's my last day off and I have to finish those questions for the Institute," Honey hedged.

"Can you finish them tonight? What can I do to help?"

Honey laughed. "I thought you'd never ask! Both women laughed. Why don't you read what I have while I start dinner?"

x x x

Honey and Trixie spent an enjoyable evening together. Trixie read through and marked up Honey's answers to the Institute questions while Honey prepared a quick meal. They reviewed Trixie's suggestions while cleaning up the kitchen and spent the remainder of the evening continuing their discussion about themselves, their relationships, family, and friends, until Trixie found herself nodding off.

"I'm so sorry Honey. But I'm still a bit tired from the weekend."

"Don't apologize, Trixie. You also had a long drive today and have to repeat it tomorrow. What time are we meeting with the Dalys?"

"Nine."

"Then let's get to bed." Honey began turning off lights.

"What about Barry? Is he?"

"Barry has his own place. He isn't living here, Trixie."

"Yet!" Trixie completed the statement for her friend.

"I didn't say that," Honey protested, but she smiled. Trixie knew her too well.

x x x

"Brian Belden!" Debbie bolted up in bed and pulled the sheet up around her. "What do you mean, Richmond? You never said...Did you deliberately not tell me?"

Brian rolled over on his side and, brushing the hair from his forehead, looked up at her. "I'm sorry. I thought you knew."

"Bull. I had no idea you were leaving Hopkins. I thought...I never."

"Sweetheart." He reached for her.

"Sweetheart?" Debbie twisted around, dropping her feet over the side of the bed. She looked around for her clothes. "Oh! Damn you! I'm not your sweetheart! You just thought you could, could get it off before leaving town! Have your jollies with an easy nurse, then take off for...how dare you? I will NOT be fodder for doctors' lounge gossip. Damn you! Damn you!"

"Don't."

"Dammit, Brian Belden! I can't believe..." Debbie stood up and stormed across the room. Grabbing a t-shirt, she turned around, holding it in front of her, barely providing some modesty.

Brian stared at her, astonished that he was still feeling desire while also feeling so ashamed. "Go ahead. I deserve whatever you've got to say." He sat up, arranging the sheets to cover himself.

Debbie found herself speechless when seeing how sincerely upset he appeared. Since her divorce almost a decade earlier, she had been involved with only two men and had only invited the one to her bedroom after a lengthy courtship. She had no idea what had compelled her to invite Dr. Brian Belden home the other evening, nor why she had allowed him to return the next evening and again tonight. But the attraction had been so strong, she had been unable to resist. She had worked with him for some time and come to admire him professionally as an intelligent, sympathetic and caring doctor. She had assumed the same qualities applied to his personal life and relationships. And he was so goshdarn sexy. She now was wondering if she'd been deliberately misled; if everything she had assumed was a lie. She pulled the shirt on and then her panties and jeans, all while staring furiously at the stranger in her bed.

"I honestly...I didn't. Oh, I'm so embarrassed." She flopped down in the small chair beside her dresser.

"If you'll make some tea or something, I'll get dressed and we can talk," Brian offered. "Honestly and sensibly."

Brian waited until she left the room before getting out from under the covers. He needed her out of his sight while he dressed and tried to make sense of his own confused emotions. He was just as embarrassed as Debbie. He knew he couldn't commit to any kind of relationship when he was moving to another city in just a few weeks, and it was contemptible of him to not have told her before bedding her. What did he think he was doing? He didn't know her well, but he knew that Debbie wasn't some cheap whore. Tucking his shirt into his pants he looked at his reflection in the dresser mirror. Well, you may not be boring, Belden, but you ARE pretty vile right now. He stood ramrod straight, sighed loudly, and walked out into the living area.

Somehow, Brian was able to overcome his discomfort and Debbie was able to control her anger so that he could try to explain the inexplicable. He understood that they both had been so overwhelmed by a physical desire that they had forgotten all else...including moral values. Sitting at her small kitchen table, he tried to reassure Debbie that this was not normal behavior for him and he believed the same of her. He told her he wouldn't blame her if she sent him out the door and refused to ever speak to him again.

"Debbie, there are no words sufficient to tell you how sorry I am. I did mislead you. That wasn't my intention, but all I cared about was my own satisfaction and not how you might be affected. My behavior has been deplorable. Worse than deplorable. I sincerely regret hurting you. I'll leave, but not until you assure me you believe that." He looked up at her as he took a sip of tea.

"I feel so cheap. So used. I've taken such care to..." Debbie moved the spoon slowly around in her cup of tea, watching the small ripples it made. She didn't want to look at Brian. She wasn't sure she ever wanted to look at him again. "I know I took a terrible risk with you. I know...I knew better. I am NOT into one-night stands." She continued to stare into her mug. "I don't know how or if you should have said you are moving, but..." She couldn't continue.

"Richmond isn't that far. I've had a long distant relationship in the past." Yeah, Belden and look how that turned out. And you're not so good at live-in relationships, either. "Gee, I hadn't thought about it, but...I'm not sure I can just walk away from you. This..." Brian stared at Debbie, her long hair in tangles, tears streaming down her cheeks. She stirred so much in him and it wasn't just sexual. Could he pack up and move to Richmond and never think of her again?

"Look at me." He reached over for her hand. She tried to pull it away and he grabbed it firmly. "Maybe we're doing this all backwards, but I'd like to try to make something...to develop this all a bit further." She stared blankly at him, unsure of what he was trying to say. "I've behaved terribly, but I'm not always a complete jerk. Why not give me a chance to prove that? Would you like to go to dinner and a movie?" He looked at his watch. "Tonight?"

Debbie shook her head no.

"Tomorrow?" He pleaded. "Early? Late? A lunch date?"

She couldn't help but smile. "Nice restaurant?"

"Five star." He grinned.

"Chick flick?"

"Whatever the lady desires." He looked down to see he was still holding her hand. "I don't have much time to redeem myself before I move, Deb, but..." He looked up again. She was so incredibly beautiful. "Richmond isn't that far."

x x x

"I told you I should drive and not navigate," Honey admonished her friend as she backed the large sedan out of a driveway on the third dead-end they'd found in the past ten minutes. "I can't read maps." Honey flipped the page of the large street atlas. "I will NEVER be able to figure out these blasted things!" She turned back to the first page. "I found this street on page 15, but when I turn to page 16 I can't find it. Where did it go?"

"Is Pine Spring Elementary School on the map? We've passed that twice."

"No." Honey slammed the atlas shut. "Shoot! I'm sorry Trixie. We can ask at a gas station."

Trixie pulled the car over to the curb and reached for the atlas. "Madeleine Grace Wheeler. How can a brilliant, published author with an advanced degree not be able to read a simple street map?" She opened it to pages 14-15 and scanned the map. "Here it is. Pine Spring School. Mmmm...Geez Honey. Oak Haven Court runs off the bottom of the page, where it says, 'Joins page 25'." She pointed it out to her friend before turning to page 25. "And here we are again. Okay. I know where to go," she said as she handed the atlas back to her friend. "We turn right up here."

Trixie and Honey rode in silence until they got to the Daly residence; Honey feeling embarrassed because she had gotten them lost, and Trixie being sensitive enough to not mention it.

"How do you plan to explain my presence?" Honey broke the silence as they parked in front of the neat bungalow. "I mean I have no official capacity."

"Yes you do, Agent Wheeler."

A startled laugh broke from Honey. Even though as a sworn officer in the New York State Police, she was entitled to that title, she seldom used it. Trixie couldn't be serious. But as her friend continued, Honey realized she was serious.

"I'll just introduce you as Agent Madeleine Wheeler with the State Police Lab," Trixie rationalized. "And then explain that you're from Sleepyside, too."

"Good enough." Honey shook her head in disbelief as she got out of the car. Trixie never failed to have a plan.

After the Dalys welcomed the young women and the requisite courtesies were out of the way, Trixie and Honey sat on the sofa across from the Reverend and Mrs. Daly, who were in matching wing chairs. Trixie took a notebook and pen from her purse. After apologizing for opening old wounds, she began asking routine questions about Elizabeth, her relationship with Andrew Trimmer, and what details they recalled about the day of Elizabeth's death.

Honey observed--and not for the first time--Trixie's amazing ability to get the Dalys to discuss details of what was obviously painful, even after almost two decades, while comforting and reassuring them. She marveled at how Trixie had matured into a determined, take-no-nonsense investigator, using the natural instincts that had been so apparent when they were teens, but with significantly more tact than she'd had back then.

When they began talking about the murder, Rev. Daly picked up a large cardboard box that was sitting beside his chair. Trixie noticed it was so full of newspaper clippings and other documents that it couldn't be closed.

"You said that Wen Molinson sent you copies of the official files, so I doubt I have anything more to add." He offered her the box. "You're welcome to look through these. Take it with you, if you want, but I would like it all back."

Trixie stood up, reached over the coffee table, and took the box. It obviously contained even more papers than what Chief Molinson had provided.

"Wen Molinson was our son's best friend in high school," Mrs. Daly offered. "I think, ah, the loss of his sister and his friendship with Wen may have influenced his decision to become a Military Policeman."

Trixie almost dropped the box. "Your son? He's an MP? Chief Molinson never mentioned..." As Trixie recalled, the Chief had indicated they were acquaintances who played football together, certainly not friends, and she was certain he hadn't said Gene Daly was an MP.

"Oh, yes. Gene thought the world of Wen Molinson. As I said, they were best friends. They played football together in high school. Gene was so distraught over his sister's death and so impressed with how quickly the police were able to close this case..."

"Too quickly, I think," added Rev. Daly. "I've always had the greatest regard for police officers. In fact, I was Chaplain for the Sleepyside Department at one time, but..." Rev. Daly paused and seemed to contemplate what to say next. "Wendell Molinson did know our son and was a great support, but he was just a rookie patrolman then."

"James. All the police were exceptionally kind and so efficient."

"Why did you think the case was closed too quickly, Reverend?" Trixie set the large box on the floor beside her chair and tried to get the discussion back to the concerns Rev. Daly had expressed over the phone, but he just shrugged.

"I thought the world of Andy Trimmer. Never saw any sign of violence or..." He shook his head in disbelief. "It was so obvious and the police were so certain." He looked over at Trixie and Honey. "You two are obviously intelligent women. If you would...It might not be a waste of time to have you look at all this and see what you think. Andy always denied any involvement and my instincts never..."

Trixie leaned over and flipped casually through the papers in the box. "I'd like to talk to your son. Gene. Where is he now?"

Mrs. Daly gasped as Rev. Daly's shoulders drooped. "We're estranged from our son." He leaned back in the chair. "Gene had a difficult time dealing with his sister's death. He dropped out of college, then married his girlfriend from Sleepyside High--too young and too impulsively. With no skills nor education, he couldn't find work so he enlisted, getting training to become an MP. His wife had been Liz's best friend, and I guess they were a great solace to each other. But, ah, when the marriage ended, he cut off all communications with her or their daughter. Then with us, even though we tried not to take sides. He sends her a monthly support check, so she should know where he is, but...Our granddaughter visits us each summer. I don't recall her even mentioning Gene during her visit this year. It's just too painful for her. And us."

Trixie looked up and saw the tears in Mrs. Daly's eyes. The estrangement obviously was painful; perhaps more painful than their daughter's murder.

"Your daughter-in-law? Ex, I mean? Would she talk to me? She might recall something that Liz confided in her. You know how teen-aged girls are."

"I doubt she'll remember much, but you can contact her. Lauren Goodman. She uses her maiden name. Lauren lives in New York City. I'll get you her address." Rev. Daly got up and walked into the dining room. He returned with a small piece of paper. "You can talk to her, but I don't know how much help she'll be."

Trixie took the note, reading the information on it. Ms. Goodman lived in the 19th Precinct, less than two blocks from the police station house. "I know that address--where she lives. One of...If she'll talk to me..."

"I'll call her and tell her to expect your call."

"Thank you." Trixie looked over at Honey and smiled.

Honey grinned knowingly, since she knew exactly what Trixie was thinking.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: "The Corner" in Charlottesville really exists, as does everything I mentioned about Charlottesville EXCEPT the Cavalier Club. (That is based on the Commonwealth Club in Richmond, VA.) "The Corner" is an area downtown--within walking distance of the main campus--with businesses that cater to UVA staff and students. There are a LOT of restaurants and bars and it has a LONG history associated with town-gown issues, including problems caused by drunk and disorderly "Virginia Gentlemen".

Also, there is a real Clark Brothers Guns located along U.S. Routes 17/29, just south of Warrenton, Virginia (on the way to Charlottesville) that is popular with people in the DC area. It would be very logical for Dan to have learned about it when living in Arlington or Charlottesville. He certainly would have driven past it! The parking lot is always packed on weekends and their shooting range is very loud and very busy. And there IS a large bear on its roof.

I have absolutely no idea if DAs and their assistants can carry concealed weapons in New York City and, if so, how long it would take to get a license. According to the New York State website, police chiefs and sheriffs may issue permits that allow people to carry concealed weapons in public if the "police believe it is in the interest of public safety". Between the Internet and all the great Jixters who have helped in the past on New York questions, I'm sure it would have been easy enough to find out if this definition extends routinely to prosecutors in NYC, but, if it doesn't, I'd have to rewrite my story. I do know that prosecutors in Virginia DO get CCP's routinely. The reference to there being a waiting period in NY, but none in VA, is true. That's why so many of the illegal weapons on the streets of NYC really do come from VA.

The description of Brian as boring has been used so much by so many fanfic authors, I had to use it too. I'm not sure if it originated as canon or fanfic, and, if the latter, who's responsible! So I will thank everyone who has ever used it. The entire story line regarding Debbie has been created to dispel any notion that he is boring in this universe.

I MUST thank Terry (Chromosnake)for finding time in her busy holiday schedule to edit this chapter. And I cannot forget to thank my Dear Hubby who helped me select the proper gun for Dan to buy. He advised me that Trixie would want Dan to buy a Glock. While he personally isn't familiar with the Glock 37(it's a fairly new model), it appears to provide more power than some of the older models while not being bigger or heavier. He also is responsible for my knowing about Clark Brothers Guns. He reminded me of the bear on the roof and even offered to TAKE ME there for research if I wanted. (Any excuse to go to a shooting range!) However, I've been there with him in the past and didn't think it necessary. And, of course, he will always be my inspiration, especially when writing the "mushy stuff".