“Ah, Trixie?” Honey tried to get her friend’s attention. “Trixie? Would you please move so I can close the trunk?”

“Mmm?” Trixie startled back into the present. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She stepped back and allowed Honey to shut the trunk lid and then stepped around to unlock the passenger door for her companion. “I was just…” She looked back at the house. “Just thinking.”

Honey laughed as she got into the car and waited for Trixie to get in behind the wheel. “We both might be thinking the same thing,” she offered once Trixie was settled in. “But at least I have the sense to get out of the rain.” She waited for Trixie to look over at her. “So, this guy’s wife lives in the 19^th Precinct?”

“Honey, she lives at the same address as the first victim in the City.” Trixie started up the car. “This is too…”

“I can’t believe that’s a coincidence.”

“The weird thing is, I really thought the guy at West Point…This is all just too, too weird.” Trixie checked the mirrors before pulling away from the curb. She drove off in silence.

Honey waited for what seemed an eternity. “TRIX!” she finally demanded. “What West Point guy?”

“When we went up to Highland Falls and West Point.” Trixie glanced over at her companion. “There was this MP at the Academy who gave me the creeps. Then it turned out he has the same name as one of Elizabeth’s classmates. I just knew the attacker had to be him. So now I’m wondering if he has a connection to Lauren Goodman and what it might be.”

“There very well could be some connection. Ms. Goodman’s from Sleepyside, too. She was married to an MP. It makes sense that the West Point guy and her husband might know each other—both being MP’s, but especially if they’re both from Sleepyside,” Honey offered.

“I’ve requested his military records already, but it takes forever. I think I need to get Gene Daly’s as well and see what other connections there might be.”

“You are definitely on to something with this Lauren woman,” Honey agreed. “And if the creepy MP is the assailant, he may have a string of unsolved murders all over the country—even overseas. He moves before they can link…”

“Oh, gee. I don’t want to imagine that!” Trixie interrupted. While as a professional detective, she was able to distance herself somewhat from the violence she witnessed daily, she did not want to think that this guy might be responsible for even more murders than they currently were investigating. “I need to bet back to the City,” she said again. “And work on this.”

“Just remember what Dr. Emory used to say,” Honey reminded her of one of their college professors.

They recited in unison, “There are no coincidences!”

x x x

Trixie dropped Honey off at her apartment building before heading out of Albany and south towards New York City. The three hour drive, with no distractions other than static-laden music on the radio and the rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers, provided her the opportunity she needed to consider what she had learned from the Dalys, as well as all the other facts she recalled about the Sleepyside murder and recent cases in the City.

The more she thought about it, the more she became convinced that Lauren Goodman was her missing link. She just wasn’t sure if Ms. Goodman would link her to the nasty MP, Gene Daly, or someone else. Passing a slow-moving truck, she floored the accelerator pedal, hoping to run her ideas by Erica before the end of her shift. Once past the truck, she called Erica on her cell phone, asking that she set up a meeting with Captain Reilly for late that afternoon, allowing time to brainstorm with Erica first.

The traffic got heavier and the mist turned into a steady and then hard rain as she neared New York City, forcing Trixie to slow down more than she would have preferred. By the time she finally did get back to the police station and returned her car to the pool attendant, she was more anxious and fidgety than usual. She forced a young recruit to help her with her bag and the large box of papers as she hurried up the stairs and into the Detective Bureau. She was relieved to see Captain Reilly perched on the edge of Erica’s desk. It appeared he was waiting for her.

She rushed over and, breathless, showed the recruit where to set the box on her desk.

“Let’s go into my office.” Captain Reilly headed towards his private office. Halfway there, he stopped and turned around. Trixie was still trying to catch her breath. “Belden?” Trixie tossed off her jacket and followed.

x x x

Honey sighed loudly as she clicked first the Save, and then the Print icons on the computer screen. She had incorporated Trixie’s suggestions into her responses for the Institute for Forensic Science and Medicine, proofed it several times, used spell check and grammar check at least four times, and finally felt comfortable that there was no more she could do to improve upon her answers. At least not in this decade. It was time to mail it off.

After carefully reviewing the pages a final time, she signed the cover letter and placed them in a large manila envelope. Glancing at the clock, she decided to take a quick shower and change before running to the post office, thinking she might go by Barry’s office afterwards to see if he were free for dinner.

She stepped into the warm shower spray and grabbed the shower gel that Barry loved for her to use. Although he might not totally support her interest in moving, she knew he would be more than willing to help her celebrate this milestone.

x x x

“Shut the door!” Captain Reilly ordered Trixie as she followed him and Erica into the office. The Captain pointed to the two chairs in front of his desk as he sat at his own. Leaning back and crossing his arms in front of him, he almost smiled at Trixie again.

“I don’t know whether to praise you or kick your butt, Belden.”

Trixie wasn’t sure how to react. She looked first at Erica, who shook her head, and then back at the Captain.

“In the past two weeks, you have ignored my instructions, screwed up an interview, taken off on an unauthorized trip to Green Haven, brought IAD into this precinct to investigate an incident at your home, been broadcast on the evening news kissing an ADA, alienated the lead detective on a VERY important Task Force, and more. Just as I’m seriously considering writing you up, you, hopefully, find a break in this case. What the heck am I going to do with you, Belden?”

“Uh...” Trixie started to speak.

“Let me finish! Did you know I requested you specifically for our detective squad after you qualified?” He watched as Trixie shook her head no, while staring down into her lap. “Risked MY neck to move you up from the bottom of the list?” Trixie didn’t move. “I knew you had real instincts…something that all the training and education around will never get you.” He paused, allowing her to squirm just a bit. “And while I find you frustrating as heck, I think I did make the right decision.”

Trixie looked up. He was smiling—well as close to smiling as she’d ever seen him.

“I do believe you’ve uncovered a significant link. There just may be a connection to that Sleepyside case. Now I have to figure a way to get around this good-for-nothing Task Force and investigate your lead!”

Captain Reilly leaned forward and placed his hands on the edge of his desk. “Now tell me what you learned in Albany and then we’ll decide just how far I’m going to be sticking out my neck for some maverick rookie detective!”

x x x

After a long day in court, Dan returned to his desk to find a stack of messages. He immediately checked to see if any were from Trixie. Seeing that there were none, he sat down and loosened his tie. Staring out the small dirty window at the heavy rain, he was surprised by the intensity of his disappointment, if not the level of his concern for her well-being. At each break during the day, his thoughts had turned immediately to her and the danger she might be facing.

While he believed it had been dangerous for Trixie to travel to Albany alone, he knew that he had to let her do her job, difficult as that may be for him. He also knew he needed to rein in the feelings, both emotional and physical, he was developing for her. Since he first met her over a decade ago, he’d known Trixie was special. This past weekend he’d discovered just what that really meant to him. Whether their relationship grew into something permanent or not, he would never meet another woman like Trixie Belden.

Sighing aloud, he picked up the stack of pink message slips again and reached over for his phone.

x x x

Over the next half-hour, Trixie reviewed what she had first learned from Chief Molinson and later uncovered on her own, reminding Captain Reilly repeatedly that she understood that she had been using her instincts as much as good old-fashioned police investigative methods. While Erica had already told him that the Sleepyside victim’s sister-in-law lived in the same building as their first victim, he still asked Trixie to repeat the same details not once, but twice, before asking her to bring him the box of papers from the Dalys.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he began fingering through the papers. “And you’ve requested military records on the West Point MP?”

Trixie nodded affirmation.

“How about the brother?”

“No. Not yet. We just learned today he was in the military. I’m going to make a request, but I’m concerned about how long it might take since I still haven’t heard squat about Edwin Daley.”

He leaned back in his chair and thought for a few moments. “Okay,” He sat up straight. “I have some contacts that I’m going to use to try to speed up things. I’m going to see if I can get records for both Edwin Daley AND the dead girl’s brother. You realize it’s taking so long because of the sketchy information we have. Do you know anything about the brother; service numbers, DOB; enlistment date, anything?”

Trixie pointed to the box. “Or I can call his parents.”

“See if there’s anything in the box. We do NOT want to involve them any more. My kind of luck, this Gene fella will call his folks for the first time in ten years and…” He smiled weakly. “Meanwhile, see if you two can track down the ex-wife and talk to her.” He pointed to the door. “Now get out of here so I can do MY job! And go through this box with a magnifying glass!”

Erica and Trixie both stood up. Trixie took the box and headed out the door.

After calling Lauren Goodman and scheduling an interview for the next morning, Trixie and Erica began carefully sorting through items in the box provided by Rev. Daly. It looked like they had placed each item carefully in the box as they had received it and not in any other particular order. Trixie focused on the police reports to determine if there were anything that Molinson hadn’t provided, while Erica sorted through photographs, news clippings and letters.

Trixie was returning from a restroom break when Erica called across the squad room. “Belden! Get over here! Now!”

Trixie sprinted through the maze of desks to see what her partner had found.

“Captain wants us, again.”

Trixie followed Erica into the Captain’s office and closed the door behind her. “What was the name of that MP?” he bellowed at the two women from behind his paper-cluttered desk.

“Daley. Edwin Daley.”

“I was able to make a few calls, call in a few chits and speed up the processing of your request for his records, Belden.” He paused dramatically. “I want you to see this.” He shoved a pile of papers at her.

Trixie took them, noticing they were still warm from the fax machine. The last sheet received was on top. There in clear bold letters was, “DECEASED”. Trixie looked up at her boss. He sat frowning with his arms across his chest. She handed the papers to Erica.

“Well?” The Captain asked.

Trixie dropped down into the chair, forgetting to wait for her superior to tell her she could. “He…I don’t know. Who IS Master Sergeant Daley, if not…?

“Look at this.” Erica handed the papers back to Trixie. “Look at the photo. That’s NOT the Master Sergeant we met.”

Trixie looked at the photograph and the date stamped on it. She shook her head in disbelief and then back up at the Captain. “Erica’s right. It’s NOT the guy at West Point.”

The Captain grabbed the files from Trixie, staring long and hard at the photograph. He shook his head a few times before speaking. “Well this is obviously a dead end.”

In her nervousness, Trixie couldn’t help but giggle at the unintended pun. But she quickly sobered when the Captain stared at her.

He flipped slowly through the papers before continuing. “I’m still thinking you’ve uncovered some kind of link to Sleepyside. I’m waiting for the brother’s records. Meanwhile you two continue what you’re doing.” He looked up. “Have you contacted that woman, yet?”

“Lauren?” Trixie looked at her watch. “We’re meeting with her tomorrow morning.”

“I want to know where her ex-husband is, when he last visited her, anything that might have his DNA, a photo…”

“They’re divorced,” Trixie interrupted.

“I KNOW THAT, BELDEN. If she can’t help you, find someone who CAN!” He spun his chair around and began pounding on computer keys.

Trixie looked over at Erica who shrugged silently as she headed out the door.

x x x

Brian wiped the steam from the glass and stood in front of the mirror, trying to objectively appraise the reflection staring back at him. His entire life he’d been told that he had inherited his father’s dashing good looks, but he never bothered to consider what that meant. Dashing? He wondered what the heck that meant. The only other time he’d ever heard it was the line in “Jingle Bells”.

Staring at his reflection, he silently counted off what he knew to be his physical attributes: relatively tall; fairly well-built; square chin; straight nose; brown eyes that Joyce once had called “expressive”; thick, dark hair with just a hint of wave; not even a hint of balding or ...

He pulled his hair up off his forehead. No. No receding hairline.

He turned to the side and sucked in his tiny gut. Certainly not lanky, but not too heavy, although he could exercise a bit more. Solid. Yes. Solid.

“Mmmm,” he said aloud. “Not bad, I guess. But am I boring?” He recalled the middle school taunting of “Boring Belden” as he stared at the reflection some more. No, definitely not boring. Mmmm… Boorish?” He turned to face the mirror again. “Or bodacious?”

He knew the nurses at the hospital talked about him. He’d overheard far too many whispered conversations to not know. He’d heard himself described as bitterly cold, boiling hot, brooding, boring, boorish and bodacious. But he’d never bothered to consider if any of it were true. Younger than most of his classmates all through high school, college and medical school, he’d never given much consideration to his social or physical attributes; only the academic. He’d never paid much attention to clothes. His mother bought them until he entered college where he’d avoided anything trendy and the scruffy collegiate look. Once in medical school, he’d worn either scrubs or dress shirt, khakis, and a lab coat.

He’d fallen into a chaste romance with Honey Wheeler while still a teen and they’d become engaged without much thought. He’d gone directly from breaking his engagement with her to a torrid physical relationship with fellow med-student Joyce Mitchell. Now that his relationship with Joyce had ended, he was unattached for the first time since he was sixteen, and he wasn’t quite sure what that entailed. The prospects were frightening and exciting, and he was thankful he’d been available when Debbie O’Connell Comer had come knocking. He turned to the side and looked at his profile again, wondering just what a young woman like Debbie might see.

“This is insane!” he finally told his reflection. He ripped the cleaner’s plastic from his shirt, removed the tags, and put it on. Glancing back at the mirror as he buttoned it up, he laughed again. “You aren’t boring, bodacious OR boorish, Belden. Just BATTY!”

He tucked in his shirttail and grabbed his tie. “Aren’t you one lucky SOB that someone like Debbie Comer likes batty men?” he asked as he smiled at the reflection again. “And tonight the lady and I shall have a real date.”

x x x

Barry reached across the table and grabbed Honey’s hand. “Relieved?” When Honey made her surprise visit to his office, he’d dropped everything and invited her for a romantic dinner to celebrate mailing her package to the Forensics Institute in Virginia. He also hoped she would welcome the news he had to share, giving them even more to celebrate.

Honey nodded. “I guess…I still feel incredibly anxious about it all.” She pulled her hand away and fiddled with the white linen napkin in her lap. “I know you’re not enthused about this, but…” She looked up at him. “I do appreciate your support. And…And there’s no guarantee I’ll even be offered the position.”

Barry smiled broadly. “Actually, that’s why I suggested we have dinner. I said I wanted to celebrate, but we have more to celebrate than your mailing off those answers.” He paused, waiting for Honey’s reaction, but all she did was take a sip of wine. “I’ve been talking to Jim Lowe. You remember him?”

Honey nodded. “From the early campaign days.” Honey remembered him well, but she’d never liked him.

“Jim’s running Laura Davis’ campaign.”

“For Senate?”

Barry nodded. “I’ve been helping him a bit with the campaign, but he hasn’t needed much. She’s a shoo-in. They’re already putting together the staff for her offices here, in New York and in Washington.” He was grinning broadly, now.

“And?”

“He approached me some time ago about running the Albany office. I’ve been getting bored working for the Governor and he knows that. When you got called for your second interview I asked him what they might have in DC.”

“Really?”

“Today I met with Ms. Davis and I have my choice. I can run the entire show in Albany or be the Number Two person in the DC office.”

Honey smiled coyly, trying not to show her excitement. She wanted the position in Richmond, but was anxious and confused about the possible move. She had doubts about her qualifications and concerns about how to maintain a relationship with Barry. Everyone had reassured her that she was well-qualified for the job, but no one had offered any suggestions about how to maintain her relationship with Barry if she moved. They now were offered an opportunity to continue their relationship whether she moved or stayed.

“Sounds like the better job is here.”

“There are benefits to both. DC is where the real action will be. And she has aspirations for something bigger than the Senate.”

“Richmond isn’t DC.”

“No, but how far is it? One hour driving?”

“At least two.”

Barry grabbed her hands. “Less than that on the train. We can live somewhere in between or…We’ll make it work. We will.”

“As I said, I haven’t gotten the job in Virginia.”

“Yet.”

Honey laughed. “Yet!”

x x x

Dan logged off his computer and sat staring at the blank screen. He was finally coming down from the adrenalin high of the weekend with Trixie and that morning’s positive meeting with the Deputy DA. He marveled at the positive turn his life had taken recently and wondered if it were just a fluke. The hardships of his childhood had created a certain cynicism and inability to believe that good things could happen to him; that he feared he’d never be able to lose. He knew he was intelligent and hard-working. He knew he’d atoned for his sins as a teen many times over, and he’d heard Trixie reassure him that she accepted him, tainted past and all; but those doubts lingered. He was always waiting for trouble to befall him again. Shrugging, he looked at the clock and wondered if Trixie were back from Albany. He started to reach for the phone, but stopped.

“You are not going to blow this, Mangan,” he said aloud as he grabbed his jacket and put it on. “She’ll call you when she can.”

x x x

Brian and Debbie stood at the door of her apartment, smiling awkwardly at each other. As he’d promised, Brian had taken her to a very expensive restaurant, followed by the movie of her choosing. He’d held open doors, pulled back chairs, touched nothing more than an arm, and fought every instinct he had to ravish her. He now was hoping for more than a good night kiss, but was trying to respect her wishes for a real courtship.

“I had a wonderful time, Brian.” Debbie finally said. “I…

Brian pulled her to him. “Was I a gentleman?” he managed to ask before kissing her.

Debbie pulled away and laughed. “You WERE.” She turned and started to put her key into the door lock but turned back to him. “I...I…I never invite a man inside on the first date.”

Brian brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “This IS a little more than a first date. I HAVE already been inside.” He smiled wistfully. “I…I want to give you what you want Debbie. If you want me to court and woo, I’ll court and woo all you need, but…” He bent over and kissed her lightly on the lips. “It’s so damn difficult,” he whispered. “I want you like, like I’ve never known before.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her again. “Oh, gee…I am so turned on.”

Debbie laughed as she turned and unlocked the door. She turned back around and looked at his slightly flushed face before grabbing his hands and pulling him inside. “How many days until you leave?”

Brian managed to kick the door shut while lifting her in the air and shouting, “WOO HOO!”

x x x

Trixie and Erica hesitated at the back entrance of the station, staring out at the pouring rain. The storm that had started the prior afternoon had continued all night and into the morning, and the deficiencies in the New York City storm water system were apparent everywhere. Water ran several inches deep in the streets and most other paved surfaces; which was almost everywhere in Manhattan.

Trixie and Erica had remained late into the night sorting and searching through the papers provided by the Dalys, finding very little information that Trixie hadn’t put together already. After returning home for a few hours sleep, shower, and fresh clothes, they had returned to the station to prepare for their interview with Lauren Goodman and were now headed out to her apartment.

Erica crossed her arms and smiled. “You’re the JUNIOR partner,” she stated as she handed Trixie the car keys and umbrella.

“An umbrella won’t help in this.” Trixie took the keys and pulled her jacket up over her head. “Gleeps, what I do for you!” she called out as she ran out and across the lot towards the unmarked car. Cursing silently, Trixie drove over to the doorway and waited until Erica was in the car before shaking the water from her tousled curls.

“Dammit! What are you, a dog?” Erica yelped.

“Your seniority may force me to pick you up at the door,” Trixie responded with a chuckle. “But I can’t let you get too big-headed.” Both women laughed as Trixie pulled around the building and headed out into the traffic.

“Does this visit justify parking in a fire zone?” Trixie asked Erica as she stopped the car in front of the modest apartment building.

Erica looked up and down the narrow street and, seeing no other place to park, nodded. “I wouldn’t park in a fire zone, but the sign says this area’s for deliveries.” She grinned at Trixie as she placed the Official NYPD Business sign in the window. “This is a delivery if you ask me.”

Both women got out of the car and ran to the entrance. Flashing their badges at the maintenance worker holding the door for them, they moved faster as they went across the lobby towards the elevators. “Official business!” Erica called out as she hit the Up call button. “We’ll be down shortly!”

She and Trixie quickly stepped into the small elevator car and rode silently to the 15^th floor, both women contemplating how best to conduct this interview. They had already discussed the need to be cautious since they weren’t sure how Ms. Goodman would receive them. Trixie had some excellent ideas about the interview and, hoping the hometown connections might help relax Ms. Goodman, Erica had asked her to take the lead while being prepared to turn it over to Erica if necessary.

Lauren Goodman was waiting for them. In fact she seemed happy to see them. After showing them in and making the usual courtesies, she sat down across from the two detectives.

“My daughter is in her bedroom, sleeping. She had to stay home from school sick. Before we continue, I want you to know that this conversation ends immediately if she comes out,” Ms. Goodman began. “As much as I, well, Gene is her father. She’s not to hear anything negative about her father.”

“We understand,” Trixie offered before proceeding with some background questions to confirm what the Daly’s had already told her. Lauren and Elizabeth Daly had been best friends and inseparable from the day the Dalys had moved to Sleepyside until Lisa was killed.

“It seems funny now, in retrospect. I’d never really paid that much attention to Gene when Lisa was alive.” Ms. Goodman hesitated before continuing. “I’m an only child and Lisa was like a sister to me. He was very protective of both me and Lisa. And we hated him for it. But, otherwise, we didn’t interact that much.” She stared off for a while, obviously remembering something. “He was inconsolable after she died. My heart broke for him. I guess I was too. It only seemed natural that we’d turn to each other. I was kinda surprised when he asked me to marry him, but, well, we got married. He’d already dropped out of college, SUNY New Paltz—although it wasn’t called that then—and had tried to sign on with the Sleepyside Police. When we got married, it made sense for him to enlist in the Army. He was determined to become an MP.”

Trixie looked up from her notepad. “He tried to join the Sleepyside PD?”

Lauren nodded. “I don’t know why he was rejected. He never said. He was pretty upset, though. You have to remember I was only 18 and pretty dewy-eyed.” She grinned shyly.

“We moved around quite a bit after that. There were so many memories in Sleepyside and Gene loved the military life…in fact, he thrived on it. I worked part-time and we tried for some time to start a family. We were married several years before our daughter, Bethann, was born.”

“But the marriage didn’t work out?”

Lauren laughed nervously. She was clearly uncomfortable. “It was never a healthy relationship. He was a bully. Plain and simple. He’d bullied me and Lisa growing up and, in retrospect, he bullied me when we were dating, but, as they say, ‘love is blind’.” She laughed again. “Once we were married, he became more jealous and controlling, all the while making me believe that somehow I was to blame for it.” She looked from Trixie to Erica and back to Trixie.

“Yeah, I know. Textbook. I don’t know exactly when I realized what was going on. I guess it was when he started focusing his attention on Bethann. She’s much more of a rebel than I am and things became…” She shrugged.

“As I said, I was always just a little fearful of him even though he never hit me or anything. I was not going to let Bethann live in that kind of fear.”

“So you left him,” Trixie offered.

“It was not easy, but, yes, I did. I struggled financially for a while…I doubt any of that is important.” Lauren smiled weakly. “What exactly do you want to know about Gene?”

“We’re hoping you can help us with a couple of things, Ms. Goodman.” Erica looked over at Trixie. “Detective Belden has been doing a lot of research that seems to be confusing our investigation as much as helping it.”

x x x

Dan waited for the Judge to render his decision, clenching and unclenching his fists under the table. His research had been meticulous and his performance in the courtroom almost flawless since coming to New York…and today had been no different. He’d known since being assigned this case that he’d be dealing with a judge with the reputation for always being a hard on cops and often with prosecutors, but it had still been one of the longest and most difficult mornings of his career.

Dan had meticulously prepared himself and the two young uniformed officers who’d had the misfortune of arresting the habitual offender being tried today. But no preparation was sufficient to deal with a judge who opened the trial by belittling the entire New York Police Department, followed by a lengthy discourse on the rights of the accused. Without hearing a single word of testimony “Crazy Judge Dalzmer” had decided that the police had overstepped their powers and Dan was on a witch hunt. It had seemed that the entire hearing had gone downhill from there. Every question, comment, or motion Dan made had been overruled or dismissed by the Judge.

Dan continued to clench and unclench his hands as he tried to focus on the judge’s latest lecture.

“Mr. Mangan,” the judge interrupted his tirade. “Have you heard a single word I’ve said?”

“Yes. Yes, Your Honor.” Dan stood up as he answered.

“I’ve seen your resume and I wonder why you felt compelled to join the District Attorney’s office in the first place.”

“Is that relevant to this case, Your Honor?”

“Are you questioning how I’m conducting this trial, Mr. Mangan?”

“No, sir.”

The Judge looked down and shuffled through his papers. Not sure if he was being dismissed, Dan looked over at the Baliff for some guidance. Dan interpreted the older man’s staring at the ceiling as confirmation that he should sit down.

Once Dan was seated, the Judge continued his discourse on problems with the New York Police Department and Dan’s handling of the case. Dan knew he’d lost his first case with the Manhattan District Attorney’s office.

x x x

“So, you’re telling me that you think there may be some connection between Lisa’s death and that girl who was murdered in August? In this building?” Lauren shook her head in disbelief at the amazing story Trixie had just shared.

“But, Andy. He was convicted. And he’s still in jail. Isn’t he?”

“And still insisting that he’s innocent.” Trixie offered as sensitively as possible.

“You don’t think?” Lauren looked from Trixie to Erica. “No. Gene…he adored Lisa. Worshipped her. Still does!” She pushed the hair back from her face. “Despite everything that’s happened between us…No.” She sat straight in her chair. “No.”

“Please, Ms. Goodman. Lauren.” Erica tried to reassure her. “We aren’t accusing your ex-husband of anything.” She paused to let her words set in. “Detective Belden…well it was Wendell Molinson who actually thought there were remarkable coincidences. You do know Chief Molinson?”

Ms. Goodman nodded. “We went to school together, at least Gene and he did.”

“He’s been a sort of mentor for Detective Belden. They were discussing the murder in your building as well as several similar attacks and he remarked that it reminded him of Lisa’s murder. He shared some files with us and we’re just following up on some,” Erica paused before continuing. “There are some unusual coincidences and we just want to be certain that’s all they are.” She finished abruptly.

Erica had become to believe Trixie’s theory of a connection, even if it was just a copy-cat. She knew that even if Lauren Goodman didn’t know anything about the murders and assaults, she most likely could clarify some things that would make their investigation easier. She also knew they were walking a fine line between discovering what Lauren knew and alienating her. Although she’d been fairly open and critical of her ex-husband when they first arrived, her criticism fell far short of calling him a murderer.

“Trixie?” She turned to her partner.

“Ms. Goodman,” Trixie took over. “I respect Chief Molinson’s instincts. And when I went through the files he provided as well as those Rev. and Mrs. Daly gave me, I became convinced it’s more than a coincidence. One thing struck me as very odd. You and Lisa had a classmate named Edward Daley?”

Lauren looked up at her and nodded.

“Same last name as Lisa and Gene only spelled differently.” Lauren nodded again. “Sleepyside High was even smaller twenty years ago than it is now. Of course you’d know.” She looked at Trixie who smiled to show her understanding. “I can’t say we were all friends, but everyone knew everyone else. Even though Gene was older…and when Gene enlisted, well Ed wanted to go into the service too. Ed married another classmate of his and mine. Jeannie Heilman. So we stayed in touch. It was…It really was tragic when he died.”

“So he is. He is deceased?” Trixie was becoming slightly confused. Just who was the jerk at West Point?

“Thing is, we recently met with a Military Policeman at West Point. I thought he was the Ed Daley from Sleepyside.”

“Oh no! That’s not Ed. As I said, Ed was killed in a training accident almost ten years ago! You thought?” Lauren laughed. “You didn’t realize? No wonder you’re so confused.”

Trixie and Erica exchanged glances. What was Lauren leading to?

“Then who is this Sergeant Daley?” Erica asked.

x x x

Jim Frayne pulled his car into the driveway that led to the former site of his great-uncle’s mansion, Ten Acres, and stopped at the barriers Matthew Wheeler had placed across the drive years ago. After staring blankly towards where the once stately mansion house had been, he grabbed his waterproof jacket from the passenger seat and got out of the car. Just as he buttoned it all the way up and pulled the hood over his head against the cold steady rain, a dark Ford Expedition pulled behind his sleek Mercedes. Recognizing the logo of the engineering firm on the door, he lifted his hand to acknowledge the two men in the truck and waited for them to join him.

“Thanks for coming out in this weather, Mark, Ron.” He said once they had joined him. “I’ll try to make this as quick as possible.”

“That’s okay, Mr. Wheeler. We’ve worked in much worse.” The younger man offered.

“It’s Frayne. Jim Frayne. Matt Wheeler is my adoptive father,” Jim corrected as he led them up the drive. “I want to hire you because of the quality work you’ve done for Wheeler Enterprises, but this is Frayne property and it’ll be a Frayne job.” He stopped at the crest of the hill. “This was the site of the Frayne family home, Ten Acres. The house burned over ten years ago and everything was cleared and leveled except for those out buildings.” He pointed to where a garage and stable stood. “They were deemed structurally sound shortly after the house burned and we’ve made sure they’ve remained so. I’m hoping we can still use them for the school.”

The two men nodded. “We’d still want to make inspections of our own.” the older man offered.

Jim nodded his understanding. “Riding will be an important part of the school’s outdoors program, so the stable needs to remain. I’m not sure how we might best use the garage. Perhaps for an Industrial Arts program or Maintenance. I’ll make my final decision based on your finding.”

Jim turned and pointed to the cleared area where the house once stood. “I’m planning to have two buildings initially. One will be a dormitory and the other will be a classroom and administrative building. I’m hoping at least one of them can be on the site of the original house.”

The two engineers nodded their understanding. “I’ve already spoken to our lead architect and she has some ideas, but she needs more detailed information before she can proceed. She’d like to meet with you as soon as possible.”

“Initially, this will be a very small facility, but I hope to see it grow significantly once we’re established.”

“That’s what I understand,” the older man concurred. “Your father, ah, Mr. Wheeler, explained all that to me. He’s quite proud of you and your plans, you know.”

Jim nodded. “I’m very lucky. This land and my own resources might have gotten me started, but my dream’s only becoming a reality because of the wise investment advice he’s given me and the contacts I’ve made through him.” Jim smiled. “Without Matthew Wheeler, it’d be at least another twenty years before I’d be standing here with you.”

“Not me,” the older man interjected. “I hope to be retired in another twenty years! So I’m glad I might have the opportunity to be a part of this project. It’s a wonderful thing you want to do; a school for troubled youth.”

“Yes” Jim agreed as he looked over the hillside. “It really is a dream come true.” Realizing how cold and wet he’d become, he chuckled. “Let’s make this walk of the property quick so we can get out of this darn rain!”

I also must thank the lovely Vivian for hosting my website and having such great patience with a techno-idiot like me. Thank you, Vivian.

AND, I must thank Cathy for creating and sharing the most wonderful place on the web and allowing me to be a part of it. Thank you, Cathy.