Part One

Author’s note:

This story is a sequel to “Why Do Fools Fall in Love?” If you haven’t read it yet, you might want to so that this story makes sense. We pick up here in sunny California. How is Trixie adjusting to her new life and her new job? Has she been able to erase Jim completely from her memory? Join us for the first part of “Ain’t Too Proud to Beg” to find the answers to these questions.

Monday, September 13

Trixie Belden skillfully balanced a cup of hot tea in one hand, held her briefcase under that arm, and opened the door to her office with her free hand. Once inside, she set down her things and sat at her desk. She sank back comfortably in her leather chair and ran her hand along the glossy cherry wood finish of her expensive desk. The plush furnishings of her office still made her feel like a kid with a new toy.

She couldn’t help but snicker at the gold nameplate that rested upon her desk. Beatrix Belden. After hearing several of the younger male detectives joke that ‘Trixie Belden, PI’ sounded like a Pamela Anderson show on the Playboy Channel, she decided it was time to grow up and start using her given name. As much as she hated the name Beatrix, it was better than being perceived as a busty blonde porn star.

A month ago she’d left Sleepyside, moved to Los Angeles, and taken a position with Keenan Investigations. She’d adjusted to all the changes in her life with her usual exuberance and jumped into her new job feet first.

Having already witnessed Trixie’s investigative skills in Sleepyside, Ralph Keenan wasted no time in assigning her to an important case. His firm had been asked to trail a powerful executive who had been accused by his business partner of laundering money from their company.

Because the suspect had quite a bit of influence, his associate wanted tangible evidence before reporting his suspicions to the authorities. If Keenan Investigations accomplished this task, they would not only be paid handsomely, but would pick up a future client, as well.

Though it raised several eyebrows, Ralph assigned this case to his newest employee. Well aware of the microscope under which her coworkers had placed her, Trixie set out to prove her abilities. She attacked this case like Mart attacked a plate of Wimpy’s burgers after a day-long fast.

After gathering all the available background information on the executive that she could find, she learned his schedule, and kept an eagle-eye upon the tycoon. She soon noticed that, although he appeared to be the picture of health, the suspect made several lengthy visits to his physician. Strangely enough, after these visits funds mysteriously disappeared from the company; however, the suspect’s personal bank account never increased in amount.

A generous “donation” to the physician’s receptionist provided a wealth of information, including the date of the executive’s next “appointment.” Using the sneaking skills she’d perfected as a teenager, Trixie crept undetected into the examining room where the so-called appointment would take place. She squeezed into the cabinets under the long counter. Leaving the cabinet door cracked slightly, she positioned her tiny video camera so that it had a clear view of both men.

Trixie waited silently, crammed in the cabinets amongst all the medical supplies, and eavesdropped. Through their conversation, she learned that the executive had a serious gambling problem. His addiction had gotten him in debt up to his eyeballs and owed his bookie almost a quarter of a million bucks. If he didn’t pay back the two-hundred thousand in the very near future, his pal the doctor would be identifying his remains.

The executive and the doctor worked out a plan. One of the physician’s regular patients was a high-up in the Russian mafia. For a quarter of the proceeds, the mobster helped them devise a plan to launder money. The executive extorted the money from his business. During his “appointments,” he gave the money to the doctor, who delivered the money to the Russian. Sergei then transferred the funds to a Swiss bank account he’d set up for the executive.

However, the executive and the doctor grew greedy, and decided they would keep the laundered money for themselves. Once a hefty amount of money had been saved, the men planned to flee the country and divide the pilfered funds instead of paying back the executive’s debt. It was a tangled web, and sooner or later one would get caught.

Trixie’s eyes grew wide as she listened while the men discussed the plan in its entirety. She couldn’t believe her fortune! She kissed her camcorder, knowing she’d just broken the case. After the men left the room, she wiggled out of the cabinets and snuck out of the doctor’s office undetected.

Her luck continued to improve. A staff meeting had been scheduled for that evening and provided her with the perfect opportunity to prove herself with the male chauvinist pigs with which she worked. With great satisfaction, Detective Beatrix Belden proudly strode into the conference room and plopped down the miniature videotape in front of her boss. Grinning like the cat that ate the proverbial canary, she sat down in her seat, and watched in amusement as the smug looks disappeared from her co-workers’ faces.

From that moment on, her colleagues treated her with respect, albeit begrudgingly. Being the only female detective on staff, she missed the camaraderie she’d shared with Honey. It was a rather lonely job, but she enjoyed it nonetheless for the challenge it offered.

Now established as a woman with beauty and brains, she’d just concluded her second case with Keenan Investigations. An insurance company had hired the firm to investigate a potentially fraudulent claim. As Trixie completed the final paperwork needed for her meeting with the client, a knock at her office door startled her.

“Come in,” she called, busily completing a summation form. She glanced up and saw her boss entering her office; however, in her haste to finish her typing, she didn’t notice that a second person had sat down as well.

“Finished with that insurance case already, Beatrix?” Ralph Keenan asked, his face beaming with pride.

“I just wrapped it up last night,” Trixie replied, still typing. “I don’t mean to be rude, boss, but let me finish this line, and then I’ll be with you in a minute.”

“No problem,” Ralph chuckled. “You’ll never hear me complain that an employee is too eager to finish her work. So, what did you find out? Was it a phony claim?”

Trixie looked up and laughed. At that point, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that a second person had entered the room with her employer. A very handsome person…

She cleared her throat nervously and, trying to avoid looking at the attractive stranger, answered the question. “Well Mr. Keenan, after thoroughly investigating the claim, I think it’s authentic. The policy holders have an impeccable reputation, don’t have any major outstanding debts, and seemed genuinely upset over the loss of their personal items.”

“Did the policyholders call the police immediately after the robbery?” Ralph inquired, pulling his reading glasses out of his pocket. After putting them on, he studied the paperwork that Trixie handed to him.

“Yes, they did,” she answered, giving him a copy of the police report. “The thief hasn’t been caught as of yet, but fingerprints were found at the scene of the crime that didn’t match those of the household.”

“And what did People’s Friend Insurance Agency have to say about that?” Ralph asked.

“People’s Friend pointed out that the fingerprints didn’t match any lifted from other crime scenes in the area. They claimed the prints could’ve belonged to any number of people, and that is true. But my gut told me that the policyholders were telling the truth, so I did a bit of checking on those fingerprints.” Trixie wiggled in her seat, practically bouncing in excitement.

“What did you find?” Ralph Keenan could not help but grin in amusement at the pure delight on his employee’s face.

“After consulting the local authorities, I learned that they had compared the fingerprints with those of local criminals, but had not checked to see if the same prints were on record in any other states,” Trixie explained. “With some thorough investigating, I found that those prints matched a set found at the scene of several high-profile robberies in Washington State.

“My guess would be that the Washington authorities were closing in on the thief, so he fled to California, and has just continued his career here. After I found out this information, I immediately reported it the local police, and they’re working in conjunction with the state of Washington to apprehend the criminal,” she concluded.

“So the claim’s valid, and People’s Friend must reimburse their client?” Ralph clarified.

Trixie nodded. “There’s absolutely no evidence the claim was phony. In addition, I did a little snooping about the insurance company, and it seems People’s Friend isn’t too friendly. They spend more time fighting claims than they do providing compensation. It simply boils down to the fact that they want to take their clients’ premiums, but balk at keeping their end of the bargain.”

“Excellent work, Detective Belden,” Ralph congratulated.

Trixie blushed a becoming shade of red. “Thank you, Ralph. I worried you’d be disappointed with my findings, since they didn’t help our client.”

“As a detective, you’re to uncover the facts, whether it’s in our client’s favor, or not. Besides,” he added with a chuckle, “People’s Friend Insurance Company signed a contract to pay their bill, regardless of our findings.”

“I guess that’s true,” Trixie giggled. Nervously she stole a glance in the direction of the man seated beside Ralph and found that he had been staring at her. Her blush deepened, and for the millionth time, she wished she had outgrown that annoying habit.

“I assume you haven’t been assigned to another case yet, Beatrix?” Ralph questioned, picking up the file he’d laid on the corner of her desk.

“No, sir,” she answered, trying to contain her anxiousness. Her boss held an official looking folder in his hands, and Trixie itched to know what it contained. It was quite a challenge to keep her eyes on her employer and off of the intriguing file.

However, Ralph Keenan had been in the investigative business longer than Trixie had been alive. Her curiosity didn’t escape his attention. “Would you like to see what I’ve got in this folder?”

Trixie chewed on her bottom lip. “How could you tell?” she asked sheepishly.

“I know right now that I’ve got the right girl for the job,” Ralph said with a grin. “Detective, I have connections with certain government officials. Occasionally, they request the services of my investigators. Earlier this week I received a call from one such contact, and he asked if I could provide a pair of detectives for a special assignment; one male, one female. I told him I had two extremely talented investigators who met his qualifications and might be willing to assist them, but that I would need to speak with them first.

“Beatrix, before we get down to business, I’d like to introduce you to my right-hand man, Detective Jack Palmer,” he continued, pointing to the young man beside him.

Trixie shyly peeked at Jack and smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said softly, offering her hand for him to shake.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he replied, taking her hand and firmly gripping it. His lopsided grin revealed a set of perfect teeth.

“Jack’s one of the top detectives in this firm,” Ralph explained. “He’s been with me for five years now, and if I have my way, he’ll be a partner soon.”

Ralph Keenan expounded on the many virtues of Jack Palmer for several minutes; however, neither Trixie nor Jack paid attention. They were too busy trading glances and nervous smiles.

Trixie’s heart pounded as she discreetly studied her good-looking coworker. He appeared to be tall, at least a couple of inches over six foot. His sand-colored suit accentuated his broad shoulders and trim waist, and his form-fitting dress shirt did little to hide his rippling pectorals.

Jack’s hair was thick, and though it was trimmed neatly, Trixie suspected that if it grew too long, the ends would begin to curl. At first glance, his hair was brown, but upon further inspection, Trixie discovered it was a rich auburn shade. His eyes twinkled merrily, and were an interesting shade of hazel.

They sort of look like copper. I wonder if they change with his mood, she mused silently, her heart fluttering strangely.

Realizing that she should be paying closer attention to her boss rather than Jack Palmer, Trixie cleared her throat and forced herself to concentrate on Ralph Keenan. Unfortunately, he wasn’t nearly as attractive as his protégé.

“…wasn’t sure who to send, but when Jack returned from his assignment in San Francisco, I thought it’d be best to pair you with him.” Ralph leaned back in his seat and folded his hands in his lap. “Before I show you the contents of this file, are you willing to accept this job?”

Trixie nodded, a determined glint in her blue eyes. “I accept.”

“Very good, then.” Ralph laid the folder on the desk and pulled out a fancy envelope. “You’ve been officially invited to attend a formal fundraiser at the governor’s mansion in two weeks.” He handed the invitation to Jack. “You’ll be posing as a wealthy couple, and your assignment is to monitor these two men.”

Ralph handed Trixie and Jack some photographs. “The balding gentleman is Thomas Dempsey. The heavyset fellow is Richard Blake. Conveniently, you’ll be seated near these gentlemen.

“According to the information gathered by my contact, Mr. Dempsey will hand Mr. Blake some important documents in a legal-sized envelope. The government wants positive confirmation that Mr. Blake receives those documents. Your assignment will be to keep your eyes on these men and witness the changing hands of the envelope.

“Once the transfer has been made, one of you will find a secluded spot and activate a beeper, which will be given to you before the fundraiser. That person will then return to the table, and will enjoy the remainder of the festivities so as not to draw suspicion.”

Trixie’s eyes sparkled in excitement. “What do we do then, sir?”

“Nothing,” Ralph instructed. “Your assignment is to observe when Mr. Blake receives the papers and activate the beeper. Nothing more; nothing less.”

Trixie scowled in disappointment. Jack, noticing her frown, caught her eye and winked. To his amusement, a blush returned to her cheeks.

“Why do they need detectives for something so simple?” Trixie asked in exasperation. “It sounds easy enough for my little brother to do, and he’s had no investigative training whatsoever.”

“Fair question,” Ralph told her. “The officials requested this mission be given to detectives for security reasons. The government doesn’t want these gentlemen to know they’re being watched. If they discover they’re under surveillance, they may postpone the transfer. The government needs to know the minute those papers change hands. So you must be inconspicuous. Don’t let them know they’re being observed.”

“Besides,” he added, “these are two men that you don’t want to tangle with. It would be very dangerous for these men to discover you’re spying on them. I guarantee you that it’s not cake recipes they’re passing back and forth.”

“So if these documents are so important, why isn’t the FBI or CIA involved?” Jack inquired. “Why not bring in the big boys? Because if this is some baby-sitting job, I’m not wasting my time.”

Trixie cast an admiring smile in Jack’s direction; she liked his spunk.

“I wouldn’t send my top two detectives on a wild goose chase,” Ralph stated. “From what I was told, though this is an important assignment, it isn’t a high priority compared to some other things on the government’s plate. Between you and me, with the mess going on in South America, they can’t spare the personnel.

“Since I’ve worked with this particular official before, he knew I could provide capable investigators for the job. Any more questions?”

Trixie, unable to quench her curiosity, spoke up. “Just one more. What sort of information do these documents contain?”

“That’s confidential,” Ralph adamantly stated. “Frankly, even I don’t know what’s in those papers, so I couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to.”

Trixie’s disappointment was obvious to both of the men in the room. Jack’s lips twitched from stifled laughter and his hazel eyes twinkled merrily, as he studied his newly appointed partner’s devastated grimace.

Ralph didn’t laugh, or even smile, for that matter. “By the way, Detective Belden, those papers are to remain confidential,” he ordered. “I appreciate your ability to extract information, but in this situation, you are ordered not to look at, touch, or so much as even sniff those papers. Your job’s to watch those men and activate the beeper. Nothing more…”

“Nothing less,” Trixie muttered unhappily.

Ralph grinned. “I’m only worried about the ‘nothing more’. With your tenacity, ‘nothing less’ isn’t an option. Now, what are your plans for the day, Beatrix?”

“After I finish this paperwork, I have a meeting with People’s Friend,” Trixie told him. “I should be back here this afternoon. I doubt they’ll want to sit and chat after I present my findings, but I hope they still buy me lunch.”

“And what are your plans, Jack?” Ralph questioned.

“I’m going to court to testify about the Dennison case,” Jack answered. “I’m not sure when I’ll return, but it probably won’t be until court’s dismissed for the day.”

Ralph began gathering the contents of his folder. “You two will need to schedule a meeting to work out the details for this assignment. I’ll leave that up to you. Good luck to you both.” With that instruction, he exited the office, leaving Trixie and Jack alone.

Trixie nervously took a deep breath, and smiled shyly at the handsome man before her. Uncomfortable silence filled the room. Never able to tolerate silence, Trixie commented, “Looks like we’ll be partners.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Jack replied, captivated by Trixie’s bouncing curls and shining eyes. “I consider it an honor to work with the new detective I’ve been hearing so much about.”

Trixie furrowed her brows. “What have you heard, and where did you hear it?”

Jack grinned impishly. “You are curious, aren’t you? Just so you know, the water cooler is an excellent source of information. When I returned to the office after my previous assignment ended, a certain coworker asked if I had met the star of the new Pamela Anderson series.”

“Brad Richardson!” Trixie hissed, her china blue eyes blazing.

Jack neither confirmed nor denied Trixie’s accusation. “According to what my young colleague said,” he continued, “the young lady in question works in this very office.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Trixie, I think he said her name was.”

Trixie indignantly sniffed and tossed her sandy curls. She stood in all her five-foot-two- inch glory, placed her small hands on her shapely hips, and stomped her foot. “The name on the door says ‘Beatrix,’ or can’t you and your Neanderthal friends read?”

Jack put up his hands in surrender. “Hey, don’t get mad at me. I’m on your side. Ralph had already shown me your impressive list of accomplishments, so I knew this guy was just mad because you turned him down for a date or something.”

Trixie’s rueful grin affirmed that to be accurate. She sat back down in her chair.

Momentarily distracted, Jack paused, and then continued. “I asked the clown if ‘Trixie’ was the ‘Beatrix’ who solved that money laundering case so quickly. If so, he’d be wise to keep his mouth shut, unless he wanted to one-upped by Plastic Pam.”

Trixie’s belligerent stance softened. “What did he say?”

“He didn’t get a chance to say anything,” Jack chuckled. “Ralph heard our argument, and he asked Mr. Funny to step into his office. I vaguely heard shouts of ‘sexual harassment’, ‘suspension’, and ‘without pay’ echo from the room.” His laughter stopped, and he gazed thoughtfully at Trixie. “So I don’t risk offending you, what should I call you? Ms. Belden? Detective? Beatrix?”

“Since you’re not a male chauvinist pig like the majority of our coworkers, you can call me Trixie,” she replied. “I detest Beatrix, and I still look around for my mother when I hear ‘Ms. Belden’.”

Jack nodded, obviously enchanted by Trixie’s every gesture. “So, where did the name Beatrix come from?”

“It’s a Johnson family tradition,” Trixie snorted. “It was my mother’s middle name, so now I’m stuck with it. Of course, ever since I could talk, I’ve asked everyone to call me Trixie.”

“Why go by Beatrix now?” Jack questioned. “You’ve proven yourself. Who cares what those jerks say?”

“Trixie isn’t exactly the best name for a girl in my profession,” she admitted. “Of course, if I ever go undercover as a lap dancer, I won’t have to change my name.”

Jack threw his head back and chuckled heartily. “I guess that’s true.”

“So I really can’t blame the guys for giving me a hard time about my name,” Trixie said with a smirk.

“Don’t let them bother you.” Jack gave her an encouraging smile as he patted her hand. “Like I said before, you’ve already shown that you can get the job done. They’re just mad that their thunder’s being stolen by a woman, and a beautiful woman at that.”

A deep flush burned Trixie’s face and neck. Never able to accept a compliment, she changed the subject. “It’s almost time for my meeting, but what time would be convenient for you to talk about the case?”

“Could I possibly have the pleasure of your company during dinner?” Jack asked hopefully. “We could have our meeting over pasta. I know a place that makes the best fettuccine alfredo around.”

Trixie looked up at Jack through lowered lashes. “I’d enjoy that. What time?”

“How about I pick you up around seven?”

“Sounds good,” she agreed. She quickly wrote down her address on a Post-It note and handed it to Jack. “Have fun in court.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Definitely. Although I’m sure I’ll have more fun in court than you’ll have with People’s Friend.” He walked toward the door. With one hand on the knob, he turned back around and faced Trixie. “I do have one question. You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.”

“What?”

“This money laundering case I’ve been hearing so much about: Exactly how did you tape the conversation in the doctor’s office?” he inquired curiously.

“Being short has it perks. I hid in the cabinets under the countertop,” Trixie giggled. “I’m just glad it wasn’t a real appointment because I really didn’t want to see that guy turn his head and cough.”

Jack laughed and shook his head in wonder. “I think I’m going to enjoy working with you, Trixie Belden.” With those words, he opened the door and left.

“Me too,” she sighed, as she watched his retreating backside. Jack Palmer looked just as good going as he did coming.

Later that evening…

“Okay, so we recently moved to California from Arizona,” Jack clarified, taking a sip of his expresso. “My family lived there for a couple of years, so if anyone asks me about the climate or whatnot, I should be all right. How about you?”

Trixie nodded, and after swallowing a bite of strawberry cheesecake, she answered, “I should be safe. I wrote a theme about Arizona in school, and the next year, I went there over Christmas break, so I’m fairly knowledgeable about the area.”

Jack scribbled a note down on the tablet on the table in front of him. “Okay, we’re originally from Arizona. Of course, I guess this biggest question is: Who are we?”

“Yeah, I guess we do need a name,” Trixie snorted.

“A name is certainly handy when you have to introduce yourself.”

“John and Jane Doe?” she suggested impishly.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Somehow that might sound suspicious. I think I’ll be William. William Harper.”

Trixie shook her head. “You’re not a William. You look like a Patrick.”

“And why do you say that?”

“Because Patrick is a good Irish name,” Trixie said with a shrug.

“Uh-oh, don’t let my English grandma hear you say that,” Jack snickered. “She had a cow when her proper English son married an Irish lassie by the name of Fiona. According my grandmum, it completely ruined my father.”

“Well, how about we name you Patrick and just don’t tell Grandma?” she offered.

With a grin, Jack wrote that down. “Sounds good to me. Now, what’s my wife’s name?”

“Is this how our marriage is going to be?” she mockingly scolded. “Not even married a day and you’re forgetting my name?”

Jack tapped his pencil on the table, and then snapped his fingers. “I know. I’ve got the perfect name for you. How about Amanda?”

Trixie choked on her cheesecake. After taking a drink of her water, she demanded, “Can you pick something else? I’d rather be named Maggotface than Amanda.”

“Sorry,” Jack said sheepishly. “I have a niece named Amanda, and that name just popped in my head.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “It’s always best to pick a common name. How about Laura? That’s my maternal grandmother’s name.”

Trixie snorted in disbelief. “No offense to your other grandma, but I don’t want to be called Laura, either. And please don’t even suggest Dorothy.”

“What’s wrong with Dorothy?” he asked with a frown. “You could have a cute little nickname like Dot.”

Trixie looked horrified, and then pretended to stick her finger down her throat to gag. “Pick something else before I leave a big mess for our poor waiter to clean up.”

Jack narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out Trixie’s logic. Deciding her thought process far surpassed his understanding, he suggested, “How about Emily? That’s a sweet name. Surely you don’t have anything against anyone named Emily.”

Trixie grinned. “Emily sounds good. Emily Harper.”

“So Emily Harper, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

“A ballerina, a movie star, and an astronaut.”

“Can you narrow it down a bit?” Jack asked.

“Hmmm… I think Emily is an antiques dealer.”

“Are you knowledgeable about antiques?”

“No,” she told him honestly.

“What if somebody asks you a question about desk they have from the 1700’s?” Jack inquired. “What would you tell them?”

Trixie shrugged. “Why would someone ask me about antiques?”

“Considering the company we’ll be in, it’s quite likely that at least one of them collects old furniture.”

“Okay, I’ll pick something else,” she mumbled. “I guess I’ll be a writer.”

“What did you write?”

“101 Ways to Kill Annoying People Without Leaving Evidence,” she quipped.

“Okay, so Emily’s a writer,” he chuckled, writing a note. “As quick as you are on your feet, you shouldn’t have any trouble with that one.”

“So what does my husband do for a living?”

“Patrick’s an importer.”

“Do you export?” Trixie asked innocently.

“No, just import.”

“You can’t import unless you also export,” she argued.

“Why not?”

“It’s just wrong,” she shrugged.

“All right, I import and export,” Jack conceded. “Are you happy?”

“Very,” Trixie giggled. “But what do you import and export?”

“Antiques,” he replied with a wicked grin.

The good company caused the time to fly. After they’d ironed out the details of their undercover operation, the two detectives sat there for another hour, happily chatting about work and life in general. They finally paid the bill and left the restaurant.

Jack proved himself to be a perfect gentleman. He opened the passenger door for Trixie, and then hurried to the driver’s side. Ten minutes later, he arrived at her building, and quickly got out of the vehicle and once again opened the door for her.

“Aren’t you polite,” Trixie teased as she stood to her feet, and smoothed the wrinkles out of her dress slacks.

“My Irish mother taught me to always be honorable while in the presence of a beautiful woman,” Jack declared.

A wistful smile passed over Trixie’s face when she heard the word “honorable.” A certain face invaded her mind, and she shook her head in an attempt to chase it away.

“Thank you for a nice evening,” she said as they arrived to the door of her building. “I had a great time.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “You do realize that it’s my manly duty to see you safely to your apartment door? I don’t have a choice.”

“That would be nice,” she told him with a shy smile. She led the way inside her building, and began the three-story trek up to her apartment.

“What floor are you on?”

“The third,” Trixie said with a laugh. “I’m just glad I hired a moving company to bring in my stuff. My books weigh a ton.”

“What do you like to read?”

“Why, mysteries of course!”

Jack chuckled. “I should have known. Were you a Nancy Drew fan?”

“Bite your tongue!” Trixie scolded. She held her chin high and gave an indignant sniff. “I read the Lucy Radcliffe series.”

“You know, I wouldn’t admit this to anyone else, but I actually read a couple of those myself,” Jack told her in a conspiratorial tone. “My sister had several of the Lucy books, and if I didn’t have a new Three Investigators, I’d swipe one of her Lucys.”

“What did you think of them?” Trixie asked with a saucy grin.

Jack shrugged, and then returned the grin. “I kind of liked them. To a fourteen-year-old boy, that Lucy was one hot babe.”

Trixie groaned. “And I suppose you drooled over the perfect Nancy Drew, as well?”

“I was bored one summer and read a couple of Nancy books, but I didn’t like them,” Jack answered. “Even at that age, she wasn’t my type. She was too prissy and perfectly coifed. I like my women spunky.” He gave Trixie a wink.

Trixie’s heart skipped a beat at his admission. “Did reading the Three Investigators inspire you to become a detective?” she questioned, uncomfortable with the way her pulse was pounding. Stick with a safe subject, Belden, she commanded herself.

“I’d say it was a big influence,” he admitted. “Of course, I’ve always been too snoopy for my own good.”

“Me too,” Trixie giggled. “My father threatened to take away my Lucy books on several occasions, especially after a certain trip to St. Louis.”

Jack quirked an eyebrow and studied Trixie curiously. “What happened in St. Louis?”

“Well, my best friend’s father had to take a business trip to that area, and he was kind enough to let our club tag along. When we arrived in our hotel, I found some papers that had been left behind by the man who had stayed in the room the night before. You know that I had to look at them.”

Jack nodded and grinned knowingly.

“The man began following us, trying to get back the papers,” Trixie continued. “He tried to drown me in a pool, and then he kidnapped Honey and me and left us on a deserted steamboat to die.”

“Man, that’s harsh!” Jack exclaimed. “You must’ve been dealing with a real cutthroat.”

Trixie nodded. “Honey and I thought we’d die in that old pilothouse, but then the rest of our club showed up with the Secret Service and the Coast Guard. They arrested our kidnappers and set us free,” she concluded with a flourish.

Jack’s mouth hung open in surprise. “And how old were you when this happened?”

“Fourteen.”

“I’d have taken away your Lucy books, too,” he commented with a snort. “I don’t know how your father avoided having a heart attack. And something tells me that that wasn’t the first mystery you were involved in.”

“It wasn’t. Honey and I worked on several cases together. We helped catch sheep rustlers, jewel thieves, counterfeiters…”

“When you were fourteen?” Jack interrupted.

“Well, we were only thirteen when we worked on some of those cases,” she corrected.

“So, you were sort of like a schoolgirl detective agency?” Jack asked with grin.

Trixie’s wistful smile returned, as bittersweet memories flashed through her mind. Her chatter ceased as she desperately tried to clear her mind of that certain face.

Noticing the abrupt change in Trixie’s mood, he placed his arm around Trixie’s shoulder. “Did I say something wrong?”

Trixie shook her head slightly. “When you called us schoolgirl detectives, it reminded me of what Honey’s adopted brother, Jim, called us— Schoolgirl Shamuses, Incorporated.” She smiled sadly, trying to find comfort in the strong arm around her. “I-I just miss Honey, and talking about her must’ve made me a little homesick.”

“What was the first mystery that you solved?” Jack questioned as they arrived at her door.

Trixie looked down at the keys she held in her trembling hands.

“Did you hear me, Trixie? What was the first case you worked on?”

“Jim,” she gasped, trying to blink back tears. “Jim was my first mystery.”

“You can never forget that first case you solve,” Jack remarked, taking the keys from Trixie and unlocking the door for her. “No matter how many cases you work on, that first mystery’s always the best.”

Trixie nodded silently and opened the door to her apartment. “Well, thanks for the nice evening. I’d better go in. I have some paperwork to do.”

“Can I see you again soon?”

“I’d like that,” she murmured. “Besides, we need to finish working out the details for our assignment.”

“Maybe we can go out again Friday?” he asked hopefully.

“Sure.”

Jack leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips. “I’m glad you’re my partner, Detective. I have a feeling that we’ll work well together.”

Trixie merely nodded and looked up at him. Her eyes almost seemed to challenge him to try more. The sight proved too irresistible to Jack, who moved closer and tenderly wrapped his arms around her waist.

His head lowered until his lips met hers. He waited for the sign that she wanted the kiss to deepen. When Trixie threw her arms around his neck and parted her lips in invitation, Jack willingly obliged. He gently stroked her tongue with his, and the kiss intensified.

However, sometime during this kiss, an almost ghostly presence filled the room. The feeling was so strong that Jack opened one eye and searched the hallway, almost expecting to find the boogeyman feared by children. Though he saw no apparent cause for his apprehension, he couldn’t ignore the invisible presence.

Jack gently ended the kiss. He looked down at Trixie’s face as she stared up at him. Her china blue eyes sparkled, and her thoroughly-kissed lips quivered slightly. As tempted as he was to kiss those lips again, he merely kissed her on the forehead.

A man with less intuition would think those eyes sparkled for him, but Jack had no such false illusions. Those beautiful eyes sparkled for someone else, and he had one guess as to the ghost’s identity.

He didn’t know what had happened in Trixie’s hometown, or why she really had come to California. But one thing Jack Palmer knew of a certainty was that this invisible presence should prepare for war.

He gazed down at the sandy blonde. “I feel much better about the case now that we’ve talked. I can rest easy knowing that Trixie Belden always gets her man,” he murmured. After placing a final tender kiss on her cheek, he gave a wink and merrily strode down the hall.

Trixie wearily leaned her head against the doorframe, confused by the surge of intense, conflicting emotions. She sighed as she remembered Jack’s parting words.

I can rest easy knowing that Trixie Belden always gets her man…

“Not always,” she whispered, as the face of the one who got away haunted her memory.

Credits:

First of all, a big thank you to my editors, Kaye and Kathy. As always, your suggestions made it better!

Pamela Anderson is an actress known for the playing the type of role that I described. J And the Plastic Pam comment made by Jack might be a reference to all her plastic surgery. *VEG*

Well, Random House may own Trixie, but Ralph Keenan and Jack Palmer are MINE! Mwah-ha-ha! I’ve grown pretty fond of Jack during this story. Hope you all like him, as well.

As far as I know, People’s Friend is not an actual insurance agency. If it is real, well, as far as I know, they aren’t shysters! *G*

Thomas Dempsey and Richard Blake are my own creations, as well. So is Brad Richardson. Well, Brad is sort of my creation… That first name might have been chosen because of a certain jerk I almost dated in high school, but you never know…

And apparently, after I posted this, Veronica Mars pulled a similar stunt in a doctor’s office. I promise you that I didn’t swipe that, since I’ve never watched the show or know when it’s on or what channel broadcasts it. I’d like to tell you that they swiped it from me, but that wouldn’t be true. It was a totally weird, but funny, coincidence, especially since I’ve never watched that show. What can I say? GMTA!

And the mess in South America was something that I threw in there. There’s no mess going on there that I’m aware of, but the CIA doesn’t talk to me very much…

As far as I know, “101 Ways to Kill Annoying People Without Leaving Evidence” is not a real book. God help us if it is.

And I’m sure we all know what Nancy books I was referring to… J

I mentioned Three Investigators because Damon enjoyed reading those books as a kid.

And of course, there were several references to the books, such as Arizona and the Pierre Lontard case.