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Just as Dan Mangan was watching his friend, Alex Barrett, board the plane to Washington, D.C., Detective Trixie Belden was checking her watch. After spending over nine hours following up on routine and dead end leads, she and her partner, Detective Sergeant Erica Lane, returned to the precinct to sign off. Feeling disappointed as well as frustrated, Trixie advised her partner that she was heading home. She headed over to the board to sign out, but hesitated and walked back to her desk.

Trixie checked her messages. Nothing. At least nothing from Dan. She knew he had spent the day with Alex, but.

She sat down. Get a grip Belden. She tried to tell herself. She couldn't believe she was acting this way. After being up half the night thinking about everything Alex had told her, she had welcomed the distraction of work all day, but she was recognizing that, somehow, she had to find time for a personal life. And she was becoming very comfortable with the idea of that personal life including Dan.

"I thought you were heading home, Belden."

"Huh?" Trixie literally jumped up from her chair. Erica had returned from the restroom.

"Checking for messages and dreaming about a certain ADA?"

"Erica."

"Trixie. It was just too obvious." Erica smiled knowingly. "You come in, go directly to check you messages, and then sit holding that stack of pink slips staring off into space."

"Sorry. I'm..."

Erica sat down at her desk across from Trixie's. "You don't need to make excuses to me, Trixie. I wish the best for the two of you." She paused and lowered her voice just a bit. "Just don't forget what we talked about the other day. About all the stress."

"I heard every word you said, believe me."

Erica smiled. "And woman to woman, not just cop to cop, don't rush into anything."

"That's exactly what I'm thinking."

"Good!" Erica picked up a blue form. "Damn paperwork."

x x x

Trixie tossed the messages on her desk and headed out. It was well after midnight when she finally stumbled into her apartment. She glanced at her answering machine and saw that the message light was blinking. Smiling to herself she hit the "Play" button.

YOU HAVE TWO MESSAGES.

Beeeep. "Hi, Trixie. Thought I'd see if you were in. I, uh, wanted to apologize. I, uh, I feel absolutely terrible about last night. It was inexcusable of me. In fact," he paused awkwardly. "My behavior all week has been pretty inexcusable. If you want to talk to me when you get in, call. If not, I'll understand."

Trixie realized her heart was beating just a little faster than it had a few minutes earlier. Why? Was it the sound of his voice or?

Beeeep. Click.

Another hang up call! Were these intentional? Were they related to the graffiti? Trixie was too tired to deal with it right then. She had exactly six and a half hours until she had to be back at work and she planned to spend as much of it as possible asleep. She walked over to her bed and removed her shoes and outer clothing before climbing under the covers. Within moments she was asleep.

x x x

Trixie spent most of the day Monday on the phone trying to gain permission to talk to Andy Trimmer who was incarcerated at Green Haven Penitentiary in Fishkill, New York. After reaching several dead-ends she was advised on Tuesday morning that Mr. Trimmer had no desire to talk to her or any law enforcement officer. After hanging up from that call, she sat staring at the phone trying to decide what should be her next step. She was anxious to talk to MSgt E. Daley once again, and wondered how to get around her orders to stay away from West Point.

"Belden?"

"Erica!" Trixie startled awake from her thoughts. "I need help."

"Don't we all?:

"No, seriously, I finally tracked down Andrew Trimmer, but he refuses to speak to me."

"Trimmer?"

"Yeah." Trixie pointed to the board outlining all the attacks. "The guy convicted in Sleepyside."

"You can just go up there."

"It's a long way to drive to interview someone who's hostile." Fishkill was at least two hours drive up the Hudson River Valley from Manhattan.

"Have you tried contacting his family?" Erica was trying to think of indirect ways to approach him.

"From what I understand, they are all dead."

"Mmmm. I know, Trixie." Erica had a sudden thought. "Why don't you write him? From his hometown. Remember his parents or whatever. May have evidence related to his case. Just be vague. I bet he'll be begging you to come."

"Would you help me write it?"

"Draft something and I'll look it over." Erica walked away as Trixie spun her chair around and immediately began banging on her keyboard.

x x x

Honey Wheeler had just spent the longest four days of her life, waiting to receive the letter confirming her second interview with the Virginia Institute of Forensic Science and Medicine. She now sat in her office at the New York State Police Lab, reading and rereading the anxiously awaited missive. It confirmed that she was a finalist for the position with the Institute and included a series of questions she was expected to answer and return before her interview. The questions were so technical she panicked when she first read them, worrying about how she could adequately answer questions she could barely understand. She began to wonder if she should just withdraw her name. She needed to discuss these fears with someone. She knew that if she called Trixie, her most ardent cheerleader, she would only hear that she was the BEST possible candidate and CERTAIN to get the position. She feared that if she tried to talk to Barry, he would be too anxious to tell her to stay in Albany with him. She decided the only person to call was her brother, Jim. He knew her as well as anyone and would be totally honest with her, even if it hurt.

She grabbed the phone and hit speed dial for his office.

"Sleepyside High School."

"Hello Miss Short. This is Madeleine Wheeler. May I speak to Dr. Frayne, please?" Honey was familiar with the formalities required by Miss Short.

"Just one moment and I'll see if he's available."

"Honey! Is everything okay?" Jim sounded concerned. Honey seldom bothered her brother at work.

"No. I mean yes. Oh Jim, I..." She didn't know exactly how to express her concerns. "I got the letter confirming my follow-through interview in Virginia."

"Great!" Jim was confused by Honey's obvious discomfort at what he thought was good news.

"Yeah, I guess." Honey was still having trouble expressing her concerns.

"Honey?" Jim didn't understand how or why she could be upset. "What is it?"

"I have these questions they want me to answer."

"That's not unusual, Honey. Especially for a position of this nature."

"I know. But..." Honey was close to tears.

Jim waited for her to continue.

"Oh, Jim. I think I'm...I don't think I'm qualified for the job."

"Honey, I can't believe you're saying that. The position was advertised nationally and based on your credentials ON PAPER, you were called for an interview." Jim waited a few moments to let that thought sink in. "Then, based on that interview, they are still considering you." He waited a few more moments. "Don't you think that says a lot about your qualifications?"

"I guess."

"If they think you are qualified, why don't you?"

"These are killer questions. I don't think I could even begin to prepare adequate answers."

"I think you're more than capable, Sis. Writing is one of your strongest skills." He chuckled, trying to cheer her up. "You've always said yourself that your research and writing skills are far stronger than how you interview, and you seem to have aced the interview, so..."

"I know." Honey knew what Jim said was true.

"How long do you have to prepare these answers?"

"Two weeks."

"Why don't you take a couple days off from work and spend it in a library? I'd guess you need a medical library, but you'd know better than I exactly what you need. That is, I'm assuming, that you are allowed to research your answers."

"Oh yes. In fact the instructions say to be certain I cite my sources."

"Gee, so they want a research paper of sorts?"

"Something like that." Honey hesitated before continuing. "I'm just afraid, I'm wondering if I should just pull out."

"Since when is Madeleine Wheeler, only daughter of Matthew Wheeler, a quitter?"

"I guess not."

"Take a couple days off, Honey, and work on it. But don't quit. If you do that, well, you'll never know if you could have..."

"I know, I know. Okay. Gee, just like back in school. Couple all-nighters trying to write a paper I should have spent three years researching."

"Three years?"

"Yeah, working on my doctorate!"

Jim laughed. "Let me know how you do, Honey."

"I will. Thanks for letting me vent."

"Anytime, Honey. What else are brothers for?"

x x x

If the past few days had been the longest in Honey Wheeler's life, they had seemed even longer for Dan Mangan. That Thursday morning, Dan had set his alarm early so he could go to the gym, but when it went off, he reset it. No sense in torturing himself any more than necessary. When the alarm went off again, the sun was shining brightly through the slats of his blinds. He got up and looked out. The sky was remarkably blue for New York. He hoped this was an omen that the day would be as good as it looked.

Dan arrived at the office early. He had a meeting with the Deputy District Attorney and several other attorneys to discuss strategy for a pending case. Being included on this team was an incredible opportunity for someone who had been in the office only a few months, indicative of the respect he was earning. Of course, he appreciated that he was THE junior member of the prosecution team, but he was excited anyway and thankful for the opportunity to stay focused on work all morning. It was after noon when the meeting broke up and Dan had to hurry to get to the doctor's office for his 1:00 appointment.

Dan signed in at the reception desk and walked over to the magazine rack. Nothing caught his interest so he walked over to the windows and looked out. All he could see were office buildings remarkably similar to the one he was in.

"Mangan, Mr. Mangan?"

"Thank you." He didn't have to wait. He walked over to the nurse and followed her through the doors to the examining rooms.

"You're here for a follow-up of lab results?"

"Yes."

"Then we'll put you in Dr. May's office. We can move to an examination room if he wants."

"Fine." Dan hoped she wasn't reading his file, but it appeared she was. Get a grip, Mangan. She's a medical professional. He tried to reassure himself.

The nurse led him into an office.

"Dr. May will be right with you."

Dan waited almost fifteen minutes for the doctor. During that time he read every diploma and certificate on the walls, he read the title of every book on the bookcases, and he memorized every minute detail of every photograph in the room.

"Mr. Mangan."

Dan stood up as the doctor entered and shook his hand.

"Sit down. Sit down."

The doctor took a seat at the desk. He glanced through the chart and looked up at Dan.

"Everything looks fine. Very good."

Dan smiled in spite of himself. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"As I told you last week, your physical examination was completely normal and all the tests now have come back fine. You appear to be completely free of any disease. I would suggest you repeat these tests in another three to six months."

"I told you. It's been over six months, actually closer to a year...ah...since I've had relations. I, ah... how long will I need in order to know for sure?"

"Actually, that would be enough time for any of the tests, but...if you are sexually active you need to take every precaution."

Dan sighed audibly as the doctor took off his glasses.

"Mr. Mangan, I'm sure you realize you are lucky." Dan nodded. "You're obviously an intelligent man, but I have to remind you of the risks you took. I hope you..."

"Dr. May, I honestly believed I was in a long-term, if not permanent, monogamous relationship. I, I came to you as soon as I learned different."

"I understand."

"I have no desire to ever place myself in a similar situation."

"But you did say you were currently?"

"I've only started seeing the woman. I, our relationship may never become intimate, but if it does, well, I have no desire to do anything to endanger her or myself."

"Good. Just remember that."

"I will."

Dan stood up. He shook the doctors hand. "Thank you Doctor. You have no idea how relieved I am."

x x x

As soon as Dan got back to his office he called Alex Barrett, who said he'd be waiting for a call.

"Dan! Do you have news?"

"I'm clean, Alex. I, all the tests came back negative and."

"I'm so glad, Dan. I felt confident that you'd get good news, but, I, well, telling you to get checked was probably the most difficult thing I've ever done."

"You're a good friend, Alex."

There was a long pause.

"I spoke to Beth and my mother. It's all set for the wedding. My mother wants you both to stay at our house and Trixie's welcome all weekend. Everyone's looking forward to meeting her."

Dan didn't immediately respond. His mind wandered. Trixie. He wanted to see her, to kiss her, to...

"Dan?"

"I'm sorry, Alex. I'm a little overwhelmed by the news."

"I guess so. Tell me. Have you talked to Trixie since Saturday?"

"Yes."

"So you're forgiven for Saturday night?"

"I suppose. She'll make me pay sometime, though." They both laughed.

"Dan, I said this on Sunday. She's one terrific woman. I don't see how you could go wrong with her."

"I know, Alex. I know."

x x x

At the same time that Dan was talking to Alex, Trixie was on the phone with Reverend Dan Foreman, current pastor at the Christian Church on Croton Dam Road in Sleepyside. The Reverend Foreman was a friend of her father's and Trixie had asked him to track down a former pastor of his church, a Reverend Daly.

"I was able to find the Dalys for you, Trixie."

"Oh great!" Trixie grabbed a pen from her desk.

"Reverend Daly left Sleepyside almost twenty years ago and took an appointment in Saratoga. He was there until just a few years ago when he retired.

"Do you have a current address?"

"Yes, Trixie. He and Mrs. Daly live in a retirement community just outside of Albany." Reverend Foreman proceeded to read off an address and telephone number.

"Great. Oh Great. Reverend Foreman, I might have to interview them related to, to something that might be upsetting to them. Do you have any idea what type of, ah, mental state they are in?"

"Do you want to ask about the death of their daughter?"

"Yessir."

"I haven't seen or spoken to either of the Dalys in oh...at least three years, Trixie. But the last time I did, they both were vibrant, active and alert retirees. I haven't met many people as sharp as Jim Daly. And, Trixie..."

"Yes?"

"I think they might like to talk to a police investigator. I honestly don't think they were happy with the original investigation."

"Really?"

"Yes. And I assure you I wouldn't be giving you their phone number if I thought it would upset them to talk to you. Call them."

"Thank you, Reverend Foreman."

"Hope I was able to help. Give your parents my regards, Trixie."

"I will Reverend."

"And tell them if they're ever interested in converting."

Trixie laughed. Trixie's parents attended the same church in Sleepyside where her grandparents, great-grandparents and who knows how many generations before had worshipped.

"I know. I know. The Beldens have attended the same church for over a hundred years." The Reverend Foreman laughed too. "You take care."

"I will. And thank you again, Reverend Foreman."

No sooner had Trixie hung up her phone than it rang again.

"Detective Belden." She answered.

"Hi Trixie."

"Dan!"

"I hope things are going better for you."

x x x

Just as Trixie was getting ready to leave the station that evening she was greeted with the news that there had been a fifth attack of a young woman in the city. She and Erica hurried out to the crime scene with the realization that they had several more hours of work remaining. Trixie also knew without asking that they would be expected at the morgue first thing the next morning.

"I can't believe it. Five now." Trixie commented to her partner.

"Five plus two more we know about," Erica responded, shaking her head. The investigation of this series of brutal attacks on young women had gone on for several weeks. While they had believed the attacks were linked to each other as well as two others outside of the City, they had made no real progress towards determining who was responsible. While the assaults appeared sexually motivated, there had been no actual rapes, so they couldn't even be certain that the perpetrator was male; at least until this assault. Finally, they had a potential witness; or at least they hoped they did. A neighbor had seen a strange man running down the stairs the evening before. A few days earlier they had been advised by their Precinct Captain that if they didn't come up with something soon, the case would be turned over to a Task Force to be organized out of Police Headquarters at One Police Plaza, downtown. Trixie and Erica were determined that this not happen. Now that there was a new attack, the investigation would almost certainly be turned over to the Task Force.

It was 2:00 a.m. before the Medical Examiner arrived and they were able to remove the corpse from the apartment.

"Careful, Zack! Careful!" Erica yelled at the Medical Examiner's assistant as he placed the corpse in a body bag. "Dammit. They know better," she commented to Trixie. The young man was attempting to force the body into the bag, which could damage some of the evidence.

"Well, it looks like we have our first real lead," Trixie started to say.

"He didn't tell us anything we didn't already know." Erica responded.

"No. But we have confirmation of what we'd..." The Coroner walked up to them.

"Well, ladies. I'd estimate time of death between 7:30 and 9:00 this evening. We might be able to narrow it after tomorrow. What time did the neighbor see the man?"

"8:30, a lot earlier in the evening than the others, though."

"Looks like you've got a live witness, then."

"What about the weapon, Doc?" Erica had pulled out her notebook and was writing.

"Same as the others...some kind of club. Did your witness see anything?"

"Yeah," Trixie responded. "He thought the man was carrying an old-fashioned nightstick. He called it a 'Billy Club'."

"Mmm. That could be it. We can do a little research after the autopsy tomorrow and see if the size and weight are consistent with her wounds." The Medical Examiner scratched his head. "Funny, I didn't think of that on my own, but I guess.... I'm going to head out now. There's nothing more for me here."

"Thanks, Doc. What time do you want us in...?" Erica started to ask.

"We'll all be up half the night. 10:30 is early enough."

"Fine, Doc."

"And we'll talk afterwards."

"Thanks, Doc," Trixie answered this time.

"C'mon, Trixie. There's nothing left for us here, either. The girl's parents can't provide anything. We've hit up all the neighbors...the techs are almost finished. And I'm starving. Let's get something to eat."

"Sure, Erica." Trixie wondered how anyone could be hungry after spending hours at a murder scene, but she needed the break. She looked back into the luxurious apartment. Mmm....a night stick.... She thought as she followed Erica onto the elevator and hit "L".

x x x

A few hours later, Dan left the gym and headed towards his office. Concentrating on his upcoming caseload, he barely glanced at the headlines as he passed a newsstand. FIFTH BRUTAL ASSAULT IN 19TH. YOUNG WOMAN MURDERED. He noticed as he passed. He turned around and returned to the stand. Digging change out of his pants pocket, he paid for a copy of the paper and headed up the sidewalk.

This must be Trixie's case. He thought as he read the article lead-in. She had discussed it in general terms, but he was not aware of many details. The writer of the news article was stating as fact, what Dan knew could only be theory. She's got one nasty time ahead. He thought as he continued reading the article.

x x x

When Trixie arrived at work that morning, Erica was waiting for her, leaning against her desk with her arms crossed in front of her. She did not look happy.

"What's up?" Trixie asked as she took off her coat.

"We've been called downtown this afternoon."

"Oh shiii...Does that mean what I think?" Trixie and Erica had been dreading this moment. They'd been warned that the case might be taken from them. Trixie was clearly upset. She knew that she and Erica were not making measurable progress, but she did not want to lose her first case. AND she felt certain that she was on to something with the Sleepyside murder twenty years earlier.

"Trixie, we knew this was coming." Erica was just as upset as Trixie. "Did you see the morning papers?"

Trixie sat down hard in her chair. "No. Headlines?"

"Big headlines. Front page headlines. This is why they're having the meeting. I'm sure."

Trixie just sat and shook her head.

"Anyway, we're not off the case yet." Erica tried to sound positive. "Put your coat back on and let's head down to Bellevue.

After the autopsy and their meeting with the Medical Examiner, Trixie and Erica barely had time to make it to the meeting at One Police Plaza. Once they arrived they were led immediately into a conference room. When they walked in they saw their Precinct Captain, Assistant Police Commissioner Ricocco, several other detectives, and two ADA's were waiting for them. All seven men were sitting around a large conference table.

"Sorry, we came directly from an autopsy." Erica apologized as the two women entered and sat down.

"The Wellington girl?" Commissioner Ricocco asked, referring to the most recent victim.

"Yessir," Erica responded.

"Did you learn anything new?" Captain Reilly was asking now.

"Only confirmed that she was beaten to death...and probably by the same person as the prior four," Erica offered.

Trixie was sitting on the edge of her chair. "We confirmed that the weapon for all four girls was probably a night stick!" She blurted out. Her comment went unacknowledged, making Trixie even more anxious than she already felt.

"I assume you detectives know why I called this meeting," Commissioner Ricocco addressed the two women. Trixie and Erica nodded. "I have no complaints with the work you two have done so far."

"You both have been meticulous in your work and made remarkable progress with what you've had to work with."

"However, the media has latched onto these assaults and it's obvious we're dealing with a very dangerous individual," Ricocco continued. "The Commissioner has decided that this case is serious enough to necessitate creation of a special investigative task force...immediately."

Everyone nodded their understanding.

"Each of you has been assigned to that task force. You will have priority access to the Coroner's office as well as my own and that of the District Attorney...and you all will be released from your regular duties until notified further," The Deputy Commissioner turned to Trixie and Erica. "Belden, Lane?"

"Yessir?" They asked in unison.

"This includes the two of you...You have not been removed from the case, we are merely expanding our efforts. Do you understand?"

"Yessir!" Trixie felt elated She was still on the case. Erica sat silently. She knew better.

"You will provide the other members of the Task Force complete access to your files and cooperate in any and all ways."

"Sergeant Conners?"

"Yessir?" The detective sitting next to Trixie responded.

"You will be the lead on this team."

"Yessir."

"And I expect you to provide a written report to me every day."

Sergeant Conners nodded agreement.

"Captain Reilly?"

"Yessir?" Trixie's Captain answered.

"For now, the Task Force will be working out of your building since all of the attacks have been in the 19th Precinct."

"Yessir."

"You will provide office space for them as well as clerical support."

"No problem."

"Good."

The meeting continued for over an hour. After Assistant Commissioner Ricocco gave his instructions, rather orders, to the team, he excused himself. The members of the Task Force remained for some time, attempting to establish some type of rapport and develop a work strategy for the next few days. Throughout the meeting, Trixie managed to control her overwhelming impulses to blurt out suggestions and followed Erica's lead. She listened closely to everything discussed, taking detailed notes, and speaking only when directly asked questions.

After what seemed an eternity, the Task Force agreed to meet at 8:00 a.m the next morning at the Precinct. Two of the detectives volunteered to go down to the station to help set up a field office. Erica offered to go with them, firmly instructing Trixie to go home and get some sleep.

"I..." Trixie started to object.

"No Trixie. They don't need us, I mean you, tonight.. and you still haven't had a chance to get any rest since Friday."

Trixie didn't argue. Erica was absolutely correct. She'd had less than nine hours of sleep over the past three nights.

"Thanks, Erica."

"We'll talk in the morning." Erica offered.

"Should I come in early?" Trixie understood what Erica was suggesting.

"Let's meet for breakfast....Sammy's." Erica was referring to a sandwich shop near the precint.

"Sure...7:30?"

"No, seven."

x x x

Mart and Diana Belden had set aside almost every Friday night since they were in high school for each other. When single, they always went out on a date, and not a double or group date. Once they were married, they continued their Friday night dates although it was as often as not a stay home date. Since Katie's birth, their dates had become erratic and increasingly farther apart. As part of their counseling they had agreed these Friday evenings were key to their continued happiness. They had agreed to continue doing something special on Fridays, even if their plans included their infant daughter. It was Friday evening, and Diana was busy getting ready for her date. Tonight they planned to eat take-out and watch a video, but she still wanted it to be special. And tonight she had something to celebrate.

Katie was beginning to fuss. She must have realized that Diana had left her alone in her playpen. Diana glanced one last time in the mirror before rushing out to check on her.

"Diana? Katie?" Mart called as he came through the door. He had a great rear view of Diana bending over into the playpen. He laughed. "That's mighty tempting. If my arms weren't full!"

Diana stood and turned around glaring. "Martin Belden, that's no way to greet your date!" She walked up to him and kissed him.

Mart set his packages on the table and took Katie. "Well, what kind of day did you have Katiekins?" He kissed his daughter, but looked to his wife.

"I have news, good news." Diana smiled.

"Tell me."

"After dinner." Diana went into the kitchen to get plates and drinks.

Several hours later they had put Katie to bed and were stretched out on the sofa watching the movie. "Okay, Di, what was that good news?" Mart squeezed her as he asked.

"I signed the lease."

"On the studio?"

"Yep, and I hired the grad student you recommended."

Mart kissed his wife. "Great, when does she start?"

"Next Tuesday, but she's only temporary."

"Yeah, but the sooner you start."

"I know, Mart." Diana rolled over, facing her husband. "Thank you."

"Thank you?"

"This was all your idea. And it was the most brilliant one you've had in years."

x x x

Trixie was at Sammy's well before 7:00 that morning. Erica arrived shortly after her.

"How'd it go yesterday...after I left?" Trixie asked as Erica sat down across from her.

"You really don't want to know." Erica picked up a menu.

"That bad?" Trixie couldn't conceal her disappointment.

"No. Yes. Well, you saw what happened earlier yesterday. You and I are off the case. The only reason they have kept us is to ensure that there are women on the team. We're window dressing...nothing more."

"I can't believe. Even if..."

"Trix," Erica interrupted her before she could continue. "I've been here before. You and I are to keep our eyes and ears open, but our mouths shut. "

"But..."

"No buts, Trixie...that's the way it is."

Trixie sat and thought for awhile. She certainly understood the politics of the department, but there was no way...no way she could sit back and not help with this case. Afterall it was her first case.

Their waitress walked up. Both women ordered a light breakfast and coffee, thankful that Sammy's had a bottomless cup policy.

x x x

Erica was right. She and Trixie were definitely a visual part of the task force, but their new assignments were primarily clerical. Trixie sat silently through the meeting that morning and, once dismissed, returned to her desk. She knew she was a very junior member of the team, but she couldn't believe that her only responbility would be to type up the daily reports for the Commissioner. And Erica. Erica was one of the most respected Detective Sergeants in the City. Trixie couldn't believe they were wasting such talent. She was now more determined than ever to solve these murders...with or without some special task force.

Trixie spent the next two days doing routine clerical work related to the task force. She did manage to convince Sergeant Connors to request the military records of Edward Daley. She could not convince him to put a rush on the request or to allow her or anyone else to interview the Dalys in Albany. She spent most of the weekend stewing about it. She was certain of the link there. She was the only person who knew Chief Molinson well enough to trust his instincts. She and Erica were the only people who had met Master Sergeant Daley. She was the only person who had seen the yearbooks. Rationalizing that Sergeant Connors had refused to send anyone to Albany, but had never ordered her not to call them on the phone, she finally took it upon herself to call. She got their answering machine and left a message.

When Trixie got off duty Sunday night she went directly home. The message light on her answering machine was blinking so she hit "Play".

"You have two messages." Beeep. Click.

Not another one?

Beeep. "Hey Trixie. Just touching base. I know you're swamped with the investigation. I've been reading the papers. You said you'd like to do something this weekend. If you'd still like that, give me a call."

"Dan. Oh Dan. I need to talk to you," Trixie responded to the silent phone.

Trixie looked at her watch. Twelve thirty. Too late for a Sunday night, actually a Monday morning... But she'd love to. No. Trixie shrugged and walked over to the bathroom. Perhaps a shower would help.

x x x

After her shower, Trixie listened to Dan's message again. Hearing his resonant voice left her energized. She typed or paced all night, formalizing her theory connecting the Sleepyside murder with the current crime spree as well as a strategy as to how to prove it, before finally falling asleep on the sofa around dawn. When she arrived at the office that Monday morning, she was exhausted yet determined to pursue her instincts. Trixie sat patiently for over two hours as each of the other detectives presented their summations of the work she and Erica had conducted. Obviously no one had found anything new in the past 48 hours. Just as Sergeant Conners closed his notebook as a signal that the meeting was over, Trixie spoke up.

"We still haven't investigated the Sleepyside connection!" She blurted out.

"I told you Belden, there is no Sleepyside connection." The Sergeant's face became red.

"Please, if you'll just hear me out."

"BELDEN!" Sgt Conners face was changing from red to purple. "It's over. Finished. No further discussion!" He grabbed his notebook and stormed out of the conference room. Each of the male detectives smiled sympatheticly at Trixie as they followed behind.

Trixie left the room and returned to her desk. She turned off the computer and locked away her files.

"It's supposed to be my day off," she said to Erica as she put on her jacket. "I'm on my own time, now."

"Sure..." Erica mumbled absentmindedly as Trixie left.

Trixie wandered out onto the street. Although she was exhausted she did not want to return to her empty apartment. Seeing the hateful graffitti bleeding through the fresh paint would only depress her more. While she loved her tiny apartment, it could be lonely at times. She looked at her watch. She had no idea if Dan were in court, some meeting, or in his office, but she decided to take a chance. She ran down the stairs to the subway and headed downtown.

When she got to his office, the receptionist told Trixie that Dan was scheduled to be in court all day. Trixie thanked the young woman and left. On impulse, she decided to go over to the Courthouse. She knew several of the baliffs and might be able to slip in the back of his courtroom. She had been anxious to see him at work. Once in the courthouse she recognized one of the baliffs who directed her to the right courtroom and got her inside. Trixie quietly took a seat in the back row.

She was immediately impressed by what she saw. Impecably dressed and groomed, the handsome young man could have played a lawyer in any movie. His voice reverberated throughout the courtroom as he spoke to the judge, with just the right trace of the native New Yorker's accent to relax anyone he might be questioning, either a witness or the accused. He flashed sparkling teeth at the right moments and his dark eyes stormed when he was confronted or upset. Although it was a routine day of preliminary hearings for Dan, an often boring process that Trixie had witnessed countless times, she was mesmerized. Her co-worker had been correct in saying Dan was a brilliant litigator.

Trixie sat, barely moving for several hours. Dan was so engrossed in his work, he never saw her. Finally the last case of the day was processed and the judge adjourned the court. The few people remaining in the courtroom filed out the back. Trixie remained in her seat, wondering if Dan would ever notice her. He looked up as he began stuffing papers in his briefcase. The somber look of concentration on his face melted into a broad grin.

"Trixie?"

Trixie stood up grinning.

"I'm impressed," she said as she headed to the front of the courtroom. She stopped at the gate. "Geez Dan. When? Where? Who was that up here this afternoon?"

Dan laughed. "I don't know what you mean."

"You know exactly what I mean." She wanted to touch him, or hug him, or...She didn't know what to do with her hands so she crossed her arms in front of her. "I thought I knew you; quiet, soft-spoken, brooding, studious, even intelligent maybe, but what I saw today."

Dan just grinned. He had worked hard developing the skills necessary to be a good trial lawyer. On one level he knew he was good, but he also was plagued with self-doubts. He needed to hear the complements.

"Thank you," he said softly. He stuffed the remainder of his papers in the briefcase. "Well, Trixie, what brings you here?"

"It's my day off."

"And?" Dan closed the briefcase and locked it.

"And I didn't have anywhere to go."

"What about the women...? Aren't you? I've seen the papers." Dan looked at her. He knew Trixie well enough to know that she would never quit a case until it was closed, working around the clock if necessary. "The Task Force?"

"Yeah. Well, that's why I'm wandering I guess."

"Want to talk about it?" It was obvious something was seriously wrong with Trixie.

Trixie looked up at him. Her eyes were wide in misery and distress. Clearly, she was trying to fight back tears. Dan knew she did NOT like to show weakness. Her coming here like this had to be a request for help...or at least a sympathetic ear. He had always been one of the few people she would allow to see her vulnerablility.

"Oh Dan, this whole week." She caught a sob.

Dan grinned weakly as he looked around the courtroom. They were the only people there. He stepped through the gate and pulled her close to him. "Trix," he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her. "It's okay, Trix."

"I'm so sorry." Trixie buried her face in his chest. She felt better immediately in his embrace. Wiping her tears, she stepped back enough to look up into his face. He looked down at her, his dark eyes moistening in concern.

"Do you want to go somewhere? Would you like?"

"I'm sorry, Dan. You're working. You need to get back to the office. I never. I, I didn't sleep last night...I've only had a few hours sleep over the past several days. I forgot to eat lunch. I'm sorry." Trixie tried to compose herself.

"What time is it?" Dan looked at his watch. "Trix. I need to go by the office, drop off some papers but then I'm free. Come with me. We'll go eat, talk, whatever you'd like."

Trixie didn't say anything.

"Trixie? I owe you a dinner and, I promise, no beer." He looked at her hoping she'd smile.

She looked up and gave a weak smile. "Okay..I guess."

"Great. C'mon."

Trixie followed Dan out of the courtroom and to the elevators. Without thinking he hit L for the Lobby level.

"No Dan, I have to go through the garage," Trixie reached over and hit B. Dan looked at her curiously. "I had to check my gun when I came in."

Dan smiled to himself. The petite, sweet-smelling and soft young woman he'd just conforted in his arms, had to pick up her Glock before they could leave. This was definitely a different kind of relationship.

x x x

Dan took Trixie back to his office. Trixie waited quietly while he sorted through his files and placed notes on several of them. They had acted out a similar scene many times in high school. Sitting at the back of the library, Dan would be studying furiously while Trixie daydreamed, pondered some current mystery, wrote letters, or just watched her friend. While her brothers and Jim Frayne had always made getting good grades look easy, Dan had earned each A with immense self-discipline and effort, often forgoing trips and activities with his friends, so he could stay home and study. In high school, Trixie never had made good grades a priority. It was only after she got to college and began studying subjects that actually interested her, that she discoverd the discipline needed to to graduate with honors.

Dan took a stack of files out to the secretary and after a few minutes returned. "Sorry, but I had to give those to the secretary before tomorrow morning. There's no way I could get in here early enough tomorrow and, well, it's fresh in my mind, now."

"No problem, Dan. I told you."

"Now, Trixie, we need to feed you. We need to feed me! Would you like to go somewhere?"

Trixie shrugged and then shook her head no.

"Wanna' pick up some Chinese and go back to my place? It's walking distance, if a long one." The furniture Dan and Alex purchased had been delivered and there was someplace to sit.

"Sounds okay. I've, I haven't been to your apartment."

"I know," Dan mumbled. He hoped he hadn't made her uncomfortable. Surely Trixie wouldn't think he was suggesting. "If you don't want to go to my apartment. I wasn't. If you're uncomfortable..."

Trixie laughed. "Dan,I didn't even think that."

"Whew. Good. I mean."

Trixie stood up and put on her coat. "Lets go eat." She laughed as she headed out of his office. "Chinese sounds wonderful."

x x x

Dan and Trixie both were energized by the brisk walk from the office to his apartment building, having stopped along the way to pick up some Chinese carry-out. The doorman smiled slyly at Dan when holding the door open for them to enter. Dan glared right through him and unconsciously pulled Trixie close. He did not want any doorman getting the wrong ideas about Trixie. Dan showed her across the lobby towards the elevator.

"I'm on the tenth floor," Dan said as he hit the "Up" button.

Trixie didn't respond. Although she had been in the lobby briefly on Friday, she had not noticed how lavishly it was decorated. She stared at its opulence. "This really is a nice building, Dan." She offered.

"Yeah." The elevator doors opened and they got in. "Thanks to rent controls. I'm subletting at less than the market rent, and, well, I couldn't turn it down, I guess."

Two elderly women got on the elevator and smiled and nodded at Dan. They rode in silence to the 8th floor. When the two women got off, Trixie looked over at Dan and smiled. "Some of my competition?"

"Yeah, Trixie. I'm really into geriatrics." The doors opened and they got off. Trixie followed Dan down a long hallway and waited while he unlocked the door and held it open for her. She went inside. Dan took her coat and, after hanging it up, went into the small kitchen. Trixie placed her gun and purse on the kitchen counter and walked over to the large picture window, checking the view. She then leaned against the sill and looked around the apartment while Dan got plates and arranged the food on his new coffee table.

While the furnishings were sparse, it was an exceptionally nice apartment; good sized, well-lit and plushly carpeted. "Gee Dan, this is..." Trixie stared at Dan. He had removed his jacket and tie, but still had on his white dress shirt and grey flannel slacks. "Dan, you really are a..."

Dan grinned. "A what, Trix?"

Trixie giggled and shook her head. Her friend, the tough kid from the streets; the orphan living in the woods with old Mr. Maypenny; the solemn loner who had long ago opened his heart to her; the first person she'd ever known to own a motorcycle or get his ear pierced...Dan was a Manhattan lawyer. This was for real.

"I'm starved."

Dan and Trixie made small talk while eating. Dan felt certain that Trixie needed to share whatever was upsetting her, but he knew from experience that she needed to relax first. And he needed the same. His only concern was how to provide her the nurturing he knew she needed without it turning to something more. Each time he saw her it was becoming more difficult to not touch her. Not touch her? It was becoming difficult to not ravish her!

"Dan?"

"Mmm?"

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"I'm sorry Trix, I was just wondering the same about you."

Trixie stood up and carried her dishes into the kitchen. She rinsed her plate and placed it in the dishwasher. Without saying anything, she took Dan's plate and did the same. Dan cleared the carryout containers from the table and threw the empties into the trash. He placed one in the refridgerator. Silently he walked back out to the table and wiped it down. Trixie shut the dishwasher door and watched him as he got into the refridgerator and took out a bottle of wine. Without speaking he held it up and she nodded. He uncorked it and poured her a glass. He then took a bottle of water out of the refridgerator for himself and handed her the wine glass. Still without speaking he took her free hand and pulled her gently out into the living room. She followed him over to the sofa and they sat next to each other.

"Okay, Trixie. I said I'd listen tonight...Tell me."

Trixie looked up at him. His dark eyes narrowed as he looked down at her. "Trix..."

Once Trixie began to speak the words flowed. She knew that as an officer of the court, a prosecutor, Dan understood the complexities and politics of her own profession. She also knew that she could speak openly to him and not worry about confidentiality issues. She explained her excitement about having the case assigned to her, her frustrations about lack of clues, her certainty of the connection to Sleepyside, and the total devastation of having it turned over to the Task Force. She knew she was onto something with the Sleepyside connection and she knew she'd uncover it if given enough time.

Dan listened, nodding frequently and, except for occassionally murmuring agreements, said nothing.

"Trix, does Sergeant Connors know about the Sleepyside connection?" He finally asked.

"He's seen all the files. I tried to discuss it yesterday and again this morning, but..." Dan noticed that Trixie clinched her fists. This was a good sign. She was becoming less frustrated and more determined. "I've been relegated to coffee girl or something."

Dan smiled. He could just imagine what Trixie might do if told to shut up and get all the men their coffee. He also appreciated her investigative instincts well enough to know that if she felt strongly that there was a connection between the current murders and one in Sleepyside twenty years ago, there almost certainly was a connection. He leaned back into the corner of the sofa and put his feet on the coffee table. He patted on the seat next to him for Trixie to lean back too. She snuggled against him and he placed his arms around her.

"Trixie, you should understand the politics in this work by now," He said as he inhaled the scent of peaches from her hair.

"But I do..."

"My honest opinion?" Dan couldn't see her face, but he could imagine Trixie's determined frown.

Trixie nodded, her curls brushing against Dan's face.

"Don't give up entirely on your instincts about the connection. If nothing else, it's a copycat and you might find clues." He paused before continuing. "BUT," Trixie turned and looked up at him as best she could. "No single case is worth jeopardizing your entire career. You are still part of a team and it will be solved...okay?"

"Mmmhuh." Trixie turned back around and leaned against him. She rested her head onto his shoulder. I could get used to this, she thought to herself. Where has he been the past....She closed her eyes. Why didn't....It only took moments for her to fall asleep.

Dan leaned back, trying to relax. He couldn't believe how good it felt to hold Trixie like this. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Peaches. Please, God, He prayed. Please, allow me this one joy....

x x x

Dan woke with a start. How long had he and Trixie been like this? The lights and radio were still on. Trixie had scooted down on the sofa with her head on his lap. His neck and shoulders were stiff from sitting in the same position for so long. He looked over at the clock on the VCR. 1:15 a.m. Oh Geez... Trixie. Gently he scooted off the sofa trying not to disturb her. She was out completely. She said she hadn't slept in days. Quietly, Dan went into his bedroom and returned with a blanket and pillow. Covering Trixie with the blanket he stooped down and kissed her forehead. He turned off the radio and lights before going into the bedroom. His last waking thoughts were of the beautiful vision he's just seen on his sofa.

x x x

Trixie woke up to the sound of Dan closing the apartment door behind him as he left. She sat up with a start. Where am I? Oh! She remembered falling asleep in Dan's arms the night before. She looked around. The clock on the VCR read 7:28 a.m. Where's Dan? She then realized what had woken her. It's Tuesday. He had to go to work. But it was her day off. She wondered if she should go into work. No...They didn't want her...they didn't need her. She lay back down and closed her eyes, hoping the feelings of security and contentment she had felt the prior evening weren't part of a dream.

x x x

It was ten o'clock that morning before Trixie woke up again. Although she was a little stiff from sleeping on a sofa, she felt more refreshed than she had in days. Sitting up, she looked around Dan's living area. In addition to the sofa and a coffee table, there were a recliner, some end tables with two of the ugliest lamps she ever seen, a large desk with computer, several empty bookcases and countless boxes. Stretching, she got up and walked over to inspect the boxes. They were filled with books. Gee, she thought. Dan's been busy collecting. She picked one up. "Family Law". She dug down and got another. "Great Political Thinkers". A third read , "The History of Western Political Thought". She hoped Dan didn't consider these books light reading for relaxation. She put them back into the box, realizing that Dan probably does read those for relaxation. She appreciated the passion he'd developed for politics and the law.

She went over and looked into his bedroom. The only furniture was a dresser and large brass bed that almost filled the room. On the windowsill were three photographs. She walked over to see what they were. One was a picture of Dan and Regan, obviously taken the day Dan had graduated from Rutgers. Dan was in cap and gown, and Regan was wearing a suit and tie. Both men were grinning broadly and had their arms draped across each other's shoulders. The camera had picked up the light reflecting off Dan's earring. Trixie wondered exactly when Dan had abandoned wearing it. She smiled, recalling the loud fight Dan and his Uncle had over that. She placed the photograph on the sill and picked up the second. It was a picture of Dan, Trixie, and the other members of the Bob Whites of the Glen. They were standing at the entrance to the old clubhouse and they all were wearing their red club jackets. Trixie tried to remember when it was taken. She stared at it thinking. Yes, she remembered now. It was Christmas of her sophomore year of high school. She, Honey, and Di were all sophomores. Dan and Mart were juniors, and Jim and Brian were home from Columbia. As she recalled, it was the last time they all had worn their jackets. She set it down and looked at the third photograph. It was slightly faded and had a small tear in one corner. When she first glanced at it, she thought it was of Dan and a beautiful young woman, but then she realized it couldn't be. The resemblance of the man in the photograph to Dan was almost eerie, but his hair and clothing were definitely from two decades earlier. The young man had his arm draped across the shoulders of the young woman. She had the same red hair and blue eyes as Dan's Uncle Bill. Her hair was long and wavy and draped across her shoulders and down her back. The young couple were smiling broadly and staring almost defiantly at the camera. Trixie was mesmerized. They were probably the two most beautiful people she had ever seen. She shivered as she realized the magnitude of Dan's loss and the pain he must carry. Imagining that the picture might have been taken on their wedding day, she set it down and went back out into the living area.

Trixie then saw a piece of paper propped up on the pass-through to the kitchen. A key chain with one key lay next to it. She went over to see what the note said.

Trixie,

We need to do something about passing out on each other's sofas!

I hope I didn't disturb you while getting dressed. I understand how exhausted you must have been. I only hope our talk last night helped.

Help yourself to whatever you need. There's coffee in the kitchen and fresh towels in the bathroom if you want them. I should be in my office all day so if you want to talk some more, just call.

I enjoyed last night. I enjoy all our time together.

Dan

This is a key to my apartment. Would you keep it for emergencies? Uncle Bill has one, but he's so far away, I'd feel better with someone close having one.

Trixie read the note through once and then reread it. Dan. He signed it Dan. Not Love, Dan. Not Take Care, Dan. Not Yours, Dan. Just Dan. He held her in his arms half the night and signed it Dan. Of course, they'd agreed to take it slow and last night they had done just that. Not a single kiss. No real physical contact until she'd fallen asleep. So why did it bother her?

And a key to his apartment. Was it for emergencies or was there some ulterior motive there? Was he suggesting something? Trixie set down the note and went into the kitchen looking for coffee.

x x x

Dan was so busy that day, he was surprised when he looked out the window of his office and saw that it was dark outside. He looked at his watch. Five forty-five and he hadn't heard from Trixie. Well, he hadn't told her to call, just suggested it. She must be doing okay. He wondered if he should call her. No. He didn't want to lead her on. Wait! Maybe he did want to lead her on that way. Dan stood up and stretched. He'd put in enough today. He didn't have to be back in court until Thursday. He was prepared for his meeting in the morning. Time to go home.

x x x

Trixie eventually went into the office on Tuesday. As required, she typed up the daily progress report despite the fact that there was no progress to report. She had listened to Dan's advice, recognizing that solving the murders was more important that her personal pride and she did not want to sacrifice her career for this. But she could not drop what she had come to call the Sleepyside connection.

After the requisite early morning Task Force meeting on Wednesday, Trixie returned to her desk to find a letter addressed to her. Green Haven Correctional Facility was printed in the upper left-hand corner of the envelope. She couldn't tear it open fast enough.

Dear Detective Belden,

Thank you for your kind inquiry. Yes, I do remember your family and how beautiful Crabapple Farm was when the trees were in bloom. I remember your father from the bank, but not you or your brothers. Understand that you were just little kids when I lived in Sleepyside.

I have no idea how or why you think you might have information to help me. I accepted long ago that I will spend the rest of my earthly life in Green Haven or similar facilities. But if you would like to meet with me, I would welcome a visit from a fellow SJSHS Jaguar.

Andrew Trimmer


Trixie read the letter through a second and third time. Andrew Trimmer had agreed to meet with her, but she couldn't. Wait! She'd been ordered not to go to West Point. She'd been denied permission to travel to Albany. But what was to stop her from making a short trip up to Fishkill?

Trixie picked up the phone and called Green Haven. She knew that either Monday or Tuesday would be a beautiful day for a drive up the Hudson Valley, regardless of the weather.

Dan's reassurances and the excitement of her upcoming trip sustained Trixie through the next two days. Just as she was leaving the office on Thursday, she was called back to her desk for a phone call.

"Detective Belden."

"Hey, Trixie. I wanted to check in." Dan was concerned. He hadn't heard from Trixie since Tuesday morning. "Are things going any better?"

"They are a little at least." Dan could tell by her tone that Trixie was coping much better than she had.

"Dan?" Trixie offered hesitantly. "I wanted to tell you how much I appreciated everything Monday night."

"I enjoyed it too."

Trixie laughed. "Yeah, you enjoyed hearing me whine about my failed career?"

"Trixie."

"I'm just being sarcastic."

"I meant I enjoyed the whole evening. Having dinner with you. Letting you use my sofa."

Trixie felt the warmth creeping up her neck. She hoped she didn't look as flushed as she felt.

"Uh, Dan, I'm sorry about that. I guess I was more tired than I realized."

"Trixie, you were exhausted. And you can sleep." Dan wanted to say in his arms, but was afraid it was too suggestive. He left it unsaid. "What's your schedule like this weekend? The weather's supposed to be great."

"Right now, I think I'd enjoy an excuse to not come in."

"Would you? Could we do something this weekend?"

"What are you suggesting, counselor?"

"I want to see you, Trixie. Enjoy your company again."

"Wow, like a real date?"

"I guess so."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well, if the weather is as good as they're predicting, I'd like to get out of the City. How early could you get away on Saturday?"

"What time are you calling on me?"

"Would noon be too early?"

"No. It will allow me to put in a couple hours here or sleep in."

"I'll pick you up and we can head out to Sleepyside. Would you like to get some horses and go for a ride?"

"Oh wow! Would I? Oh yes! I can't wait."

"I'll let Uncle Bill know so he can have horses ready. Then we'll get some dinner or something that evening?"

"Sounds good. Would you want to stay over? Moms will want me to."

"Of course. We can stay over and come back sometime Sunday."

"I'll call my parents."

"See you then, Trixie."

"I'll see you, Dan."

Trixie immediately called her mother to let her know she'd be up over the weekend and then called and left a message on Dan's machine to let him know that they were both expected at Crabapple Farm for Sunday dinner. She hurried out of the office to finish the few errands she had planned to do on the way home.

It was almost two hours later before she let herself into her dark apartment. She could see the message light blinking across the room and after setting down her packages hurried over to see who had called.

"Beeep. Hey Trix. Got your message. Sunday dinner with your folks sounds good, but could we leave right afterward? I'm in court all week and need to get back. Don't forget I'll be there at noon on Saturday. We'll go straight to the stables. Uncle Bill said he'd have the horses waiting for us when we get there, so wear something to ride in. AND think about where you'd like to eat Saturday night." Dan lowered his voice just a bit. "Dream sweet, Trix."

Trixie undressed and crawled into bed. She worried that she'd never sleep with anticipation of two days in Sleepyside with Dan, but she fell right to sleep. Dan's voice wishing her sweet dreams was her last conscious thought.