The Mystery at Blackwater Falls

Part Three

Author’s note:

Previously, the Bob-Whites had traveled to Davis, WV to stay at Blackwater Falls State Park and Resort. On their way there, Trixie had an encounter with a mysterious man wearing a plaid shirt. Schoolgirl Shamuses, Inc. is eager to pick up another case, but Trixie is trying to keep her mysterious occurrence a see-crud. The girls discovered some interesting numbers on a Trail Guide for Blackwater Falls, and are eager to see if they have any significance.

Bright and early on Tuesday morning, the girls walked downstairs to the restaurant in the lodge to meet the boys for breakfast. However, only Mart and Dan were seated on the bench in the lobby.

“I thought you lazy squaws would never get here!” Mart exclaimed.

Honey glanced hastily at her watch. “It’s just now eight o’clock,” she informed him. “You must’ve gotten here early.”

“No, your watch is slow,” Mart grumbled. Feigning weakness, he leaned against the back of the bench and rubbed his empty stomach with a moan.

“Where are Jim and Brian?” Di questioned, noticing the two eldest members of their club were not present.

Dan looked up sleepily from his seat beside Mart. “They’ll be down in a minute. I think Mart’s groaning was getting on their nerves. They told us to go ahead without them and find a seat in the restaurant.”

“What’s Brian doing?” Honey asked. Aware that she had appeared unconcerned about her missing brother, she nervously added, “I mean, Brian’s so anal about being punctual that it’s kind of weird he’s late. He must be doing something really important.”

Mart snorted to express his annoyance. “Brian was ironing. My venerable fraternal sibling has an inexplicable penchant for felicitous vestments.”

For once, Trixie was in total agreement with her almost-twin, although she wasn’t quite sure what he’d said. “That boy irons his blue jeans,” she snickered. “He insists that his Levi’s need a razor crease.” After a brief pause, she continued speaking in what she hoped was a casual tone. “What about Jim?”

Dan suppressed a smile as he examined Trixie’s obviously feigned nonchalant expression. “He was just getting in the shower.”

“That’s a relief!” Di exclaimed with a giggle.

Her friends looked at her quizzically.

“I was afraid with this ‘no deodorant pact’ you guys wouldn’t take a bath,” she explained. “At least you can wash some of the stink away.”

Mart winked at Diana, a mischievous grin on his face. “We want to teach you a lesson, not kill you. Now let’s go eat.”

“Maybe we should wait for Jim and Brian,” Honey suggested thoughtfully.

“They told us to go ahead,” Mart insisted. “If I don’t get something to eat soon, I’m gonna die from hunger.”

“I seriously doubt you’re ready to keel over,” Trixie commented with an exasperated roll of her china blue eyes. “It won’t kill you to wait a few more minutes.”

Mart leaned his head back and clutched his heart, his breathing suddenly shallow. “Feeeling faaaaaint…”

Trixie purposely ignored him. “It sure is a pretty day. I can’t wait to go exploring.”

“Groooowing weeeeaker…” Mart gasped.

Trixie sighed in exasperation, and then asked, “Where should we go fir—”

“Loooosing coooonsciousneeess…” Mart panted as his eyes rolled back in his head.

Trixie scowled as Honey and Diana began giggling.

“We’d better find a seat in the restaurant before Mart needs an ambulance,” Honey said with a good-natured laugh. She grabbed one of Mart’s arms and hoisted him to his feet.

Di quickly clasped his other arm, and with her free hand, she patted his stomach. “Poor baby. Let’s get him inside and start an orange juice IV.”

“Oh, brother,” Trixie muttered, shaking her head in disapproval.

Dan held open the door to the restaurant as Honey and Di assisted Mart inside. After a quick, longing glance back at the staircase, Trixie followed.

“Mmm, mmmm!” Mart exclaimed as he sniffed the air around him in the large dining room. He wiggled out of his “helpers’ ” grips and rushed ahead to a large table near the buffet and salad bar.

“Aren’t you perky all of a sudden?” Trixie teased. “I thought you were on your deathbed.”

Mart nodded his head in affirmation. “I was. However, the delectable aroma of these fine victuals has rejuvenated my previously enfeebled soul.”

Honey’s golden-brown eyebrows rose in amusement. “After all the pizza you ate for dinner, I never thought you’d eat again.”

“Our late-night swim burned up all the extra calories I’d stored to help me survive till breakfast,” Mart explained. “My stomach started growling at three o’clock this morning.”

Trixie plopped down in the seat across from her brother at the large oak dining table. “Oh, Mart,” Trixie scolded. “Don’t exaggerate.”

“He’s not,” Dan informed her with a grin. “As his bedmate, I can verify that his stomach did growl at three o’clock this morning. Loudly. I thought West Virginia was experiencing its first earthquake.”

“Do we have to use the word ‘bedmate’?” The lines of Mart’s forehead creased in consternation. “I’d hate for that to be misinterpreted.”

“How about ‘bed buddy’?” Honey suggested with a giggle.

“Or maybe ‘cohabiter’,” Di offered tartly.

Mart shook his head, a grimace distorting his handsome features. “You girls really know how to ruin a fella’s appetite.”

“Mart’s appetite is ruined?” Jim asked as he and Brian joined the group. His russet-colored hair was still a little damp from his recent shower. He nonchalantly pulled out the chair beside Trixie and sat down.

“And what kind of catastrophic event caused the Bottomless-Stainless-Steel-Stomach to lose its will to eat?” Brian quirked a dark eyebrow. “And why do I have the feeling that you girls are behind the catastrophe?”

“Humph!” Trixie sniffed and flounced her curls in irritation. “We get blamed for everything.”

“Probably because everything is your fault,” Mart offered with a smirk. Expecting retaliation from his sister, he tucked his feet underneath his seat, so they would be out of the line of fire.

Since she couldn’t kick him, Trixie stuck her tongue out at her middle brother. “Well, I’d say skipping one meal won’t hurt my almost-twin. In fact, he should make an effort to skip more of them. His jeans are getting a little tight in the waist.”

Mart squared his shoulders in defiance. “They are not.”

“Are too,” Trixie argued, a smile wiggling mischievously at the corners of her mouth.

“Are not!” Mart shouted. To prove his point, he stood and undid his belt buckle as Dan began loudly humming the “Stripper” tune.

“Martin Andrew Belden!” Miss Trask scolded as she entered the dining room, dressed in a crisp linen suit and sensible shoes. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Just showing Trixie that my pants aren’t too tight,” he replied sheepishly. “I guess I’ll do it later.”

“That would be a wise decision,” Miss Trask said, her thin lips twitching in amusement. “I’m sorry I’m late, children. I was on the phone with the realtor. Has everyone else ordered?”

Honey shook her head. “No, we just got here. I think the waitress is coming over now.”

Sure enough, a young lady dressed in a white blouse and black pants came over to their table carrying a note pad. Everyone ordered their beverages and told the waitress that they would be having the breakfast bar. Once the waitress scurried off to get their drinks, the group stood and walked over to the buffet. As Honey began to rise from her seat, Trixie quickly grabbed her arm.

“Wait,” Trixie whispered, making sure the rest of their friends were already in line.

Honey leaned closer to her impetuous friend. “What’s going on?”

“I have an idea,” Trixie told her quietly. “Are you wearing your watch?”

Honey nodded and held up her left arm to offer proof that the timepiece was on her wrist. “Of course. I always wear it, Trixie. You should know that.”

“Good!” Trixie said excitedly. “That works out perfectly!”

Honey pensively cocked her head to one side and stared at her friend suspiciously. “What works out perfectly?”

“You. Wearing your watch.” Trixie hastily glanced over to make sure that everyone else was still occupied. “That’s the expensive gold one, isn’t it? I forget.”

“Ye-es,” Honey drawled out, suddenly becoming quite suspicious of her Trixie’s intentions. “Why do you ask?”

Trixie shrugged. “I was just wondering. Didn’t you tell me that it was your mother’s or your grandmother’s or something?”

Honey nodded. “Both. It originally belonged to my grandmother, who gave it to my mother, who gave it to me. But why are you asking all these questions? I know you’re up to something.”

“Oh, I was thinking that your watch is worth a bunch of money and that it means a lot to you,” Trixie explained carefully, attempting to sound casual. “And you have lost it a couple of times. Remember when it fell off in the preserve when Dan first came to Sleepyside?”

“Yes,” Honey answered, narrowing her hazel eyes.

“And didn’t Rosie take it in Vermont?” Trixie inquired, already knowing the answer.

“What’s your point?” Honey studied her best friend, knowing that there was more to this than Trixie’s concern for her family heirloom.

“Well, we’re going to be doing a lot of things outside. I’d hate for it to come unclasped. If you lost it in a cave or something, you’d probably never find it.”

Honey’s lips twitched as she attempted to suppress a smile. “And?”

Trixie assumed an innocent expression. “And what?”

“And how does this fit into your plan of solving a mystery, Trixie Belden?” Honey prompted.

Trixie sighed loudly. “I wish you wouldn’t ask so many questions, Honey Wheeler.” She’d hoped her friend would merely agree to her suggestion and not worry about the details until later.

“Well, I wish you wouldn’t be so sneaky,” Honey retorted. “Now spill it before I tell the boys you’re on the trail of another mystery.”

Trixie glanced furtively at the breakfast bar to make sure the male Bob-Whites were still heaping food onto their plates. “I thought it would give us a good excuse to ask if the hotel has a safe,” she admitted with a frown. “You could show your watch to the boy at the front desk, explain that you’ve lost it before, and ask if the lodge has a safe that you could keep it in.”

“Why would I want to put my watch in the hotel safe? I don’t think anybody’s going to steal it.”

Trixie shook her head in frustration. “I just want to see if they have one. And if they DO have a safe, maybe we can figure out a way to watch the desk clerk open it. I’m dying to know what the combination is.”

“Why?” Honey widened her eyes in feigned consternation, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Thinking of giving up the detective business for a life of crime?”

“Of course not,” Trixie muttered, exasperation etched on her features. “I just want to see if the combination matches the numbers on the brochure we found.”

“Oh,” Honey murmured thoughtfully, obviously skeptical of Trixie’s plan. “Well, why don’t you use your watch?”

Trixie snorted loudly. “Yeah, they’re going to let me put a $15 watch from Wal-Mart in their safe.”

“You never know,” Honey stalled.

Trixie groaned loudly and clutched her sandy curls in despair. “We’ve got to use your watch, Hon! With those diamonds around the face, they’ll know it’s expensive.”

“I’m just not sure this is a good idea.” Honey nervously bit her lower lip as she mulled Trixie’s proposition. “If we make Miss Trask mad, she may take us home early.”

“Aw, come on, Honey!” Trixie begged. “Miss Trask won’t find out. What can it hurt?”

“How many times have I heard that in the past two-and-a-half years?” Honey queried with a giggle.

“We’ll be perfectly safe,” Trixie maintained. “It’s not like we’d be sneaking off in the middle of the night to some gangster hangout.”

“Like you did at Cobbett’s Island?” One tawny-colored brow rose suggestively.

Trixie scowled in displeasure. “We’d only be going up to the front desk of the lodge.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Honey relented a bit hesitantly. When Trixie had her mind set on something, Honey knew it was useless to argue. “It’s not like we’ll end up in a deserted steamboat or anything.”

“Oh, thank you, Honey!” Trixie hugged her best friend impulsively. “You’re the best!”

At that moment, Mart plopped back down in his seat at the table, carefully balancing three plates heaped high with food. “Negatory, dear Beatrix. It’s a well-established fact that I am the best.”

“The best at what?” Trixie asked innocently. “Stuffing your face?” She stood up from the table. “C’mon, Honey. Let’s get breakfast. If Mart left any for us, that is.”

After eating so much that they could barely waddle away from the table, the teenagers milled around the lobby discussing their plans for the day. Miss Trask had a meeting with the realtor to look at the property Mr. Wheeler was considering, and that would last most of the day. The Bob-Whites decided they would get their cameras, and then meet in the lobby. Once they regrouped, they would go to the Falls and explore some of the other trails around the resort.

Trixie and Honey puttered around in the lobby as Miss Trask left the lodge and the boys went upstairs.

“Aren’t you coming to the room?” Di asked, confused as to why her friends weren’t going upstairs.

Trixie shook her head. “Not right now,” she whispered. “We have to do something before we go upstairs.”

“What’re we going to do?” Di questioned in a low tone.

Trixie shook her head. “Not ‘we’ as in the three of us. ‘We’ as in just me and Honey.”

Di’s expression tightened, hurt evident on her pretty face. “Oh,” she mumbled before looking away. “I understand.”

Honey reached out and placed a gentle hand on Di’s arm. “We’re going to show my wristwatch to the clerk at the front desk and ask if the hotel has a safe that we can keep it in.”

“Why?” Di inquired a bit nervously. “Are you worried that the man in the plaid shirt will steal it?”

“No,” Trixie told her. “We’re hoping the boy at the front desk will open the safe in front of us. Then we can see if the combination matches the numbers you found on that map.”

Di’s eyes brightened. “Oh! Can I come with you?”

Trixie nervously chewed on her lower lip. “I’d hoped that you’d be willing to stand lookout for us, Di. We don’t want the boys to come downstairs while we’re talking to the guy at the desk.”

Although she looked a bit disappointed, Di good-naturedly nodded her head in agreement. “All right. I’ll keep the boys upstairs. Just let me know when you’ve accomplished your mission.”

“Thanks, Di!” Trixie told her sincerely.

Diana gave her a “thumbs up” signal as she trotted up the stairs to delay the rest of the group.

Once she was out of sight, Honey turned to Trixie. “You know, Trix, maybe we shouldn’t leave Di out so much.”

Trixie shrugged. “Well, she doesn’t have any interest in detective stuff. I didn’t think she’d want to come. And we do need someone to keep the boys from coming downstairs.”

“I know, but we should still make an effort to ask her to help us,” Honey persisted. “I think it really hurts her feelings when we leave her out.”

“You’re right, Hon,” Trixie agreed, hooking her arm through Honey’s. “I’d feel bad if you and Di didn’t invite me to go shopping with you, even though I hate it. I’ll try and do better.”

“I know you will.” Honey glanced over at the staircase leading to the second floor of the lodge. “Think she’ll be able to keep the guys distracted?”

A tart grin parted Trixie’s lips. “If anyone can play the role of the femme fatale, it’s Diana Lynch.”

Honey quirked a brow as she peeked over at the young man sitting at the front desk. “Maybe you should’ve let the ‘femme fatale’ come with us. We might need her assistance.”

“Why?” Trixie asked with a wrinkle of her nose. “The boy at the desk looks harmless enough. Besides, we’re just asking if the hotel has a safe, not distracting him so we can crack it.”

“Well, I was just thinking that we might have to persuade the desk clerk to let us watch him open it. He may not be allowed to have anyone watching.”

“I never thought of that,” Trixie confessed. The corners of her mouth drooped into a disappointed smirk. “We may have to bring out the big guns.”

“You’d threaten him with a gun?” Honey’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

Trixie gave her sandy curls a saucy flip. “No, silly. I mean that we may have to do a little flirting.”

Honey cast a quick glance in the direction of the boy who was manning the front desk, who looked to be in his late teens. “You want us to flirt with him? What if the boys see us?”

“They won’t see us!” Trixie insisted.

Honey looked back at the boy at the desk. “His glasses take up half his face.”

“If he got contact lenses, he wouldn’t be that bad,” Trixie assured her cheerfully.

“He’s wearing a pocket protector,” Honey added.

“I’ve heard they’re all the rage.”

Honey wrinkled her perfect nose in distaste. “He looks exactly like Napoleon Dynamite.”

“Oh, Honey!” Trixie exclaimed. “It won’t kill us to give him a little attention. It’ll probably make his day. He’ll be so glad to talk to some members of the opposite sex that he’ll do anything we ask!”

“Well, I’m not wearing fishnet stockings or making him a martini,” Honey stated firmly, crossing her arms in finality.

“You won’t have to do that,” Trixie said with a giggle. “I’m sure a few coy glances and a bit of eyelash fluttering will do the trick.”

“And I assume I won’t be the only one fluttering my eyelashes?” Honey inquired archly.

Trixie sighed. “Of course not. I wouldn’t ask you to do something that I wasn’t going to do myself.”

Honey stepped back and studied her friend carefully. “Trixie Belden, you’re seriously going to flirt?”

Trixie’s irritated expression quickly turned to one of ire as she stuck her tongue out at her co-detective. “What? Do you think I can’t flirt?”

Honey giggled as she studied her friend’s angry expression. “We-ell, if you’re going to be charming, you might not want to look so… so mean. It kind of furrows your brow too much and makes you look like you’re going to beat him up.”

Trixie stuck her tongue back in her mouth and pooched her lips in what she perceived to be a sultry way. She lowered her lashes, and looked at her friend through the slits. “Is this better?” she asked in a deep voice, sounding more raspy than husky.

“Sure, if you think he’s turned on by a half-asleep, hollow-cheeked Jimmy Durante,” Honey giggled.

“Hardy-har-har,” Trixie mumbled with a frown of defeat. “Aw, who am I kidding, Hon? I’m no femme fatale.”

“You’re just trying too hard,” Honey informed her gently. “Just be natural.”

Trixie nodded slightly. After a moment of thought, she widened her eyes, ran her tongue over her lips, and heaved out her chest. “How’s this?” she asked in a velvety voice.

“Now you look like a porn star,” Honey complained.

“OK, how about this?” Trixie pursed her lips in a thin-lipped smile and kept her eyes from batting.

Honey exhaled loudly in exasperation. “Now you look like a whacked-out, evil dime store Kewpie doll that’s going to kill people while they sleep.”

“Wait!” Trixie pleaded. “How about I—”

Honey merely shook her head in despair. “How about you do the explaining, and leave the flirting to me?”

Trixie and Honey waited patiently by the front desk of the lodge as the young man who was attending it pored over a comic book. The girls looked at each other expectantly, wondering when their presence would be acknowledged. After a few minutes, Trixie nervously cleared her throat. The desk attendant remained slumped over his magazine, flipping through the pages.

With a roll of her eyes, Trixie leaned over the window and bellowed, “Excuse me! We need some help.”

Startled, the young man’s comic book fluttered to the ground as he jumped up in his seat. He looked up at the girls, an annoyed scowl on his face; however, once he saw Trixie and Honey, his scowl turned into an eager smile.

“Do you need something?” he asked, nervously running a bony hand through his nappy, muddy-brown curls. His voice sounded odd, much like it would sound if someone had a stopped up nose.

Trixie and Honey exchanged an apprehensive look, each hoping the other would take the initiative.

“Umm… yeah,” Trixie stammered, breaking the awkward silence. “We’re staying here at the resort.”

The boy nodded, an amused expression on his pimpled face. “I kinda figured you were.”

“I’m Trixie Belden, and this is my best friend, Honey Wheeler,” Trixie explained. “We’re from Sleepyside, New York.”

Honey flashed her best 100-watt smile and batted her long, golden-brown lashes at the desk clerk.

“I’m Kevin Ferguson, and I’m from here.” He placed his comic book down on the desk and leaned closer to the girls. “Did you need something, or did you just want to meet me? A lotta girls wanna talk to me and stuff. I’m used to it.”

Honey choked at the intimation, but quickly recovered. “We have a question.” Kevin’s gaze traveled leisurely over Honey’s slim figure, making her cringe in embarrassment.

Since this was Trixie’s lame-brained idea, she thought, she can talk to him!

“Trixie,” Honey said out loud, “I thought you were going to ask for me.”

“Sure.” Trixie gulped as Kevin’s beady eyes turned to her. “It’s just that Honey has an expensive watch that her grandma gave her. Actually, her grandma gave the watch to Honey’s mom, who gave it to Honey, but you know what I mean.”

Kevin stared blankly at her. “Do you like to dance?”

Taken aback by the abrupt change of conversation, Trixie narrowed her blue eyes at him. “Uhh…mmm… Yes… I mean, no… I mean… About this watch. It’s a family heirloom.”

“I’m a really good dancer.” Kevin folded his arms in front of his chest, a smug expression on his face. “Want me to come out there and do the Moonwalk for you? I do it just as good as Michael Jackson.”

Thoroughly disgusted, Trixie hastily clasped Honey’s left hand and held it up as a visual for her forthcoming lecture. “This is the watch. It’s really old and worth a whole bunch of money. And even though it’s outrageously expensive, the safety clasp doesn’t always work, and Honey’s afraid of losing it. Aren’t you, Honey?”

When her cohort remained silent, Trixie turned her head slightly in Honey’s direction and repeated pointedly, “Aren’t you, Honey?”

Honey nodded meekly. “Yes, I’m afraid of losing it.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Kevin asked matter-of-factly, completely oblivious to the girls’ dislike of him.

Trixie’s eyebrows drew together in a puzzled crease. “Why does that matter?”

Kevin leaned back in his chair, crossed one lanky leg over his other thigh, and then puffed out his scrawny chest. “I was just curious. So, do you have a boyfriend or not?”

“Yes, and he’s terribly jealous,” Trixie lied, her voice testy. “He’s upstairs right now flexing his huge muscles. But about this watch…”

“I’ve lost it twice before,” Honey jumped in, hoping to divert his attention from Trixie to her wristwatch. “We’re going hiking later, and I’d hate for it to fall off. Do you have a safe here that I could keep it in?”

Kevin’s bushy eyebrows knotted together. “A safe?”

“Yeah,” Trixie said with an eager nod. “Does the hotel have a safe to keep guests’ valuables in?”

Kevin shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think so. But I have an empty can under my desk.” He reached under his desk and pulled out an old, ratty peanut can and offered it to the girls. “Do you want me to put your watch in here?”

“No, that’s okay,” Honey replied, her nose wrinkled in distaste.

“Are you sure?” Kevin questioned. “I could dump out the rest of the peanuts and the clumps of salt.”

Honey shook her head as she carefully chose her words. “Thank you for offering, but I’d worry someone would see my watch in the can and take it.”

“I could keep it at my house,” Kevin suggested. “I’m sure it would be safe there. I’ve been working out, you know. I could use my ninja skills on any burglar that might try to snatch it.”

“Thanks, but Honey can just lock it up in her suitcase,” Trixie mumbled in disappointment. She tugged on Honey’s arm. “C’mon, Hon. Let’s get the rest of the gang.”

The two girls walked over to the staircase as Kevin watched them wistfully.

“Well, so much for that idea,” Trixie muttered as they climbed the steps leading to the second floor of the lodge.

“We’ll think of something, Trixie,” Honey encouraged. “Look on the bright side. At least you made a new friend. And you didn’t even have to flirt.”

“You were the one he was ogling,” Trixie pointed out with a giggle.

“True, but he didn’t ask me if I had a boyfriend.” Honey pursed her lips thoughtfully. “By the way, Trixie, who is your boyfriend?”

“My boyfriend?” Trixie echoed. Once she put two and two together, she narrowed her eyes in a threatening manner.

“Yes,” Honey affirmed with a bright smile. “You told Kevin your boyfriend was upstairs flexing his muscles, and I was just curious if there was something you weren’t telling me. Maybe I should go ask Jim what’s going on.”

Trixie scowled as her honey-haired friend giggled uproariously.

Finding their room empty, Trixie and Honey walked across the hall and knocked on the boys’ door. After a moment, Dan opened it for them.

“Hey,” he greeted as he stepped aside so they could come inside. “C’mon in.”

Mart, Brian, and Jim were standing around Di, their heads bent as they studied something.

“Whatcha doin’?” Trixie asked. She plopped down on the foot of the bed nearest the group.

“Trying to fix Di’s camera,” Jim mumbled as he inspected the object in his hands.

Honey claimed the spot beside Trixie. “Is it broken?”

“Mmm-hmmm,” Brian murmured as he stared at the Canon. “When you click the button, nothing happens.”

Mart hastily snatched the camera out of Jim’s hands. “Let me see it.”

“You’ve looked at it twenty times already,” Jim said with a sigh of exasperation as he ran his fingers though his russet hair. “Do you think it’s just going to start talking and tell you why it won’t work?”

Mart’s mouth pinched in irritation as he examined the 35mm. “That would be nice,” he muttered.

“I told you, it’s the flash,” Dan told them. He yanked the small object out of Mart’s hands.

“It’s not the flash,” Brian disagreed. “The camera looks pretty old. Maybe it just died a natural death.”

Di took her camera from Dan. “Let’s not worry about it now. I have an extra one in my suitcase. Trixie, Honey, and I will meet you boys downstairs in the lobby in five minutes.”

Disappointed that they couldn’t repair Di’s camera, the boys led the way out of their room; except for muttering an occasional apology for not being able to help, they were quiet. As they walked downstairs, the girls opened the door to their room.

“That really sucks about your camera, Di,” Trixie commented. “I wonder what’s wrong with it.”

With a sly smile, Di reached into the pocket of her silver-gray windbreaker. “Well, it might help if these were in it.” She stretched out her arm and opened her clasped hand. Inside were two AA batteries.

Honey’s hazel eyes widened as she looked at Di with wonder. “Di, I know people tease you about being an airhead, but you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met.”

“One of the sneakiest, too,” Di added with a wink. “No better way to keep the boys occupied than play up to their manly egos.”

Honey shook her head. “I’m always impressed when you and Trixie show your devious side.” She sighed a bit wistfully, and then added, “I need to get one of those.”

Trixie laughed as she gave her friend a hug. “Oh, Hon, we love you just the way you are.”

“Trixie’s right. You’re perfectly perfect, Honey Wheeler,” Di chimed in as she squeezed Honey’s hand. “Now, since I was busy keeping the boys occupied while you talked to the desk clerk, how about you catch me up?”

With a slight frown of disappointment, Trixie proceeded to tell Di what had happened with the desk clerk, making sure to leave out all the embarrassing details.

Miss Trask had made arrangements with the resort to provide transportation for the Bob-Whites. After a quick call to the front desk, the group was assured a van and driver would be waiting for them outside the entrance of the lodge in ten minutes.

After the teenagers had gotten their cameras and trail guides, they walked downstairs and exited the resort. Trixie and Honey made sure to hide behind the boys as they walked past the front desk, but thankfully Kevin was too absorbed in his comic book to notice.

True to Kevin’s word, a small white bus with the resort’s logo painted on the side was parked by the entrance. A tall, lanky man, who looked to be in his early 40’s, leaned against the vehicle. He wore a dark green polo shirt that had the resort’s logo embroidered on the pocket, and a golf hat was tilted slightly over one eye.

“Greetings and salutations!” he called to the group with a crisp British accent. He pulled the black golf hat from his head and bowed gallantly. “My name is Jonathan Darling, and I shall be your chauffeur during your sojourn here at Blackwater Falls.”

With a giggle, Di returned his bow with a prim curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Darling.”

“Call me English Jon,” he corrected, a broad grin on his weathered face. “That’s what all the Yanks here call me.”

Mart’s sandy brows raised in query. “English Jon?” he repeated. “Why do they call you that?”

“That’s very easy to explain, lad,” English Jon said. “It seems there are several other Jonathans employed here at the lodge. There is John the chef, John the evening desk clerk, and John the other van driver. To make our situation less perplexing, my comrades bestowed the ‘English Jon’ moniker upon me.”

Dan nodded thoughtfully. “English Jon. Sounds kinda cool.”

“Yes, it is a grand name, isn’t it?” The driver placed his black golf hat back on his head. In spite of his lanky form, it was with great grace that he stepped aside and made a sweeping motion towards the passenger door of the small bus. “Please make yourselves comfortable.”

The Bob-Whites climbed aboard the vehicle and quickly found seats. Once they all had their seatbelts buckled, English Jon turned the bus around and pulled out of the lodge’s parking lot.

“Where shall I drive first?” English Jon inquired, looking up at the group in the rearview mirror.

“To the Falls,” Trixie piped up from her seat near the back.

“Is that the general consensus of the entire group, or shall we take a vote?” English Jon teased.

“That’s the general consensus,” Trixie affirmed with a scowl. A snicker coming from her almost-twin’s direction in the seat in front of her caught her attention. Rolling up the map guide she had in her hand, she leaned over the seat and whacked him on the head with it.

“Hey!” Mart yelped, covering his short blond curls with his hands in defense. “What was that for?”

“I heard that snicker,” Trixie hissed. “Why are you being so snotty?”

“Same reason you’re being so bossy,” Mart retorted. “It’s part of my charm.”

Trixie leaned back in her seat. She crossed her arms and pouted, determined not to say another word until the bus stopped at the Falls. Thankfully for her, the trip was short and she only had to maintain her pact of silence for five minutes.

English Jon eased the van into a parking spot on the lot, which was located beside a large brown souvenir shop. “Here we are,” he called back to the group as he opened the door. With great agility, he hopped down the steps of the bus and stood outside as the Bob-Whites exited.

“Where are the Falls?” Honey questioned once she was standing on the parking lot.

“Follow that trail,” English Jon instructed, pointing to a sign.

Di looked down hesitantly at her sandals. “Will we have to do any climbing?”

“I told you to wear your tennis shoes,” Brian replied in the tone he used to lecture Bobby.

“You’ll be fine, miss,” English Jon said with a kind smile. “Several years ago when Blackwater Falls became a tourist spot, a boardwalk was constructed along the path to making hiking to the overlook easier and less dangerous.”

“I like hiking in dangerous places,” Trixie interjected snippily.

“The park offers over twenty miles of hiking trails of varying difficulty,” English Jon informed them. “I’m sure you’ll find one to your liking. However, since people of all ages and abilities want to see the Falls, they tried to keep this trail moderately easy.”

“Yeah, Beatrix,” Mart crowed, poking his sister in the arm with his elbow. “Not everybody’s as sturdy as you.”

“What about people in wheelchairs?” Honey asked.

“There’s a gentle trail for the handicapped or for those with little ones in prams,” English Jon explained.

“Thanks for all your information,” Jim said. “Will you still be here when we get back?”

“Of course. If I’m not in the bus, I shall be chatting with one of the girls in the Trading Post,” English Jon answered with a wink.

This is a warning sign for hikers. Be sure to ignore the snow in the pic. J

The walk through the forest down to the Falls’ overlook was beautiful. It was obviously springtime in West Virginia. The trees were adorned with leaves, and several patches of wildflowers added a splash of color to the mostly green and brown woodland. The birds were chirping happily to welcome the Bob-Whites, and every so often a squirrel would scurry up a tree.

Once the group had made their way to the end of the trail, they stood on the large wooden overlook admiring the beauty of God’s creation. The teenagers stood in awe-stricken silence while they gazed at the wooded canyon where the Blackwater River plunged sixty-three feet. For several minutes, the only sound came from the rushing waterfall as it sprayed the Bob-Whites with its mist.

Blackwater Falls

The large waterfall almost seemed out of place in the woodland setting. The green leaves of the hemlocks and red spruces perfectly complemented the cascading falls, almost as if the trees were nature’s picture frame. The amber-colored water dropped down several stories to the river, where it traveled through a winding, eight-mile gorge. The water in the ravine below appeared almost black, giving the Blackwater River its name.

The teenagers excitedly took pictures from different angles, wanting to capture on film all the wonder around them. With another group of tourists coming down the path, the Bob-Whites decided it was time to move on. Reluctantly, they began the trek back to the main road.

Another shot of Blackwater Falls

The heat had risen considerably since that morning. Though it was only a quarter till eleven, the temperatures had to be in the upper seventies, with the high humidity making it feel much warmer. Since the return trip was uphill, the hiking was much slower.

“I wonder if Miss Trask is waiting for us at the lodge,” Trixie commented offhandedly.

Brian turned around to face his little sister, his right eyebrow quirked in bemusement. “Since when did you start worrying about keeping people waiting?”

Trixie cast a murderous glare at her oldest sibling. “I’m not a total barbarian, Brian.”

“Beatrix, I do not mean to be officious,” Mart declared grandly. “However, I feel constrained to concur that our eldest kinsman’s claims of your solecistic miens are, as our European hail-fellows say, comme il faut.”

Trixie groaned loudly. “Great. Butchering one language isn’t enough for my almost-twin. Now he’s got to babble in Spanish.”

“I hate to contradict you, dear Beatrix,” Mart began with a mischievous grin, “but the language I am supposedly ‘butchering’ is French, not Spanish.”

“What’s the difference?” Trixie snapped, quickly losing her patience with her smart-mouthed sibling.

Mart assumed a scholarly expression. “Quite a bit, depending upon which region of Europe you’re visiting. One bad serving of crêpes aux fruits de mer and you’ll find out for yourself that Spanish won’t get you to a French toilet. Those shellfish can get you.”

Trixie threw her hands up in frustration and looked around at the other Bob-Whites. “Isn’t anyone else concerned about Miss Trask? She could be waiting in the lodge all by herself, worrying that we’ve fallen off a mountain or something, while we’re listening to Mart ramble about the French words he’s picked up on while watching the Food Network.”

“Miss Trask will be spending the entire day with the realtor, Trix,” Jim assured her. “She isn’t expecting us until later this evening.”

“Fine,” Trixie mumbled. “But don’t blame me when she gets mad and takes us home early.”

Before any more comments were made, Honey decided to change the subject. “Hey, I wonder where we should go next.”

“I’d like to go to the caverns,” Dan suggested. “They’re not far from here.”

“Can’t we stay around the lodge?” Trixie asked hopefully.

“We’ve only got a few days to see everything,” Brian said. “If we sit around in our rooms all day, we won’t have time to take in the sights.”

Trixie merely exhaled noisily.

“Ick,” Di mumbled in disgust. With the back of her hand, she wiped a bead of perspiration from her forehead. “I hate to sweat.”

“Don’t you mean perspire?” Dan devilled.

“Our rooms are air-conditioned,” Trixie pointed out. “Maybe we could go cool off a little while before we go to the caverns.”

Jim smiled at her. “Trix, the van has air-conditioning too.”

Trixie crossed her arms, her eyes hardened into blue ice chips. “Fine, we’ll go to the caves,” she snapped.

“Gee, you don’t have to sound so excited about it, Freckles,” Dan teased.

Irritated by the heat, her uncomfortable footwear, and life in general, Di waved a slender hand in front of her flushed face to create some air movement. “Why couldn’t the park people make an elevator or something to take us down to the Falls and then bring us back up?” she groused.

“Gee, Di, don’t you think that might ruin the woodland effect they’re going for?” Jim asked with a chuckle.

Di rolled her eyes to express her exasperation. In hopes a cool breeze would provide some relief from the heat, she lifted her thick blue-black hair off her neck and shoulders. “Well, an escalator wouldn’t look bad. They could hang vines or flowers on it for you nature freaks.”

“It won’t be much longer until we’re back at the bus, Di,” Honey assured her.

“Yeah, so quit whining,” Trixie added in an irritated tone. “Gee whiz, Di. You can be such a baby.”

Mart took that opportunity to “accidentally” catch the heel of Trixie’s right tennis shoe with his foot.

“Oooph!” she gasped as she lowered her hand to keep from falling on her face.

Mart grasped his sister’s arm to help her stand, an angelic smile plastered to his face. “Sorry, Beatrix.”

“No problem, Martin,” Trixie muttered. She tossed a scowl over her shoulder at her almost-twin. She dusted off her bare knees, and the group continued walking up the trail.

Jim took Trixie’s hand and leaned down closer to her. “You deserved that, you know,” he whispered to her, making sure to keep his tone gentle. “I know you have some secret agenda that we’re not following, but that’s no excuse for snapping at Di.”

Trixie sighed unhappily. Though it was difficult to admit, even to herself, she knew Jim was right and was only trying to help.

Di, still miffed with Trixie for her earlier comment, elevated her chin proudly. “I can’t help it that I’m not as hardy as you, Trixie. I didn’t have older brothers who took me out to play in the woods. I wasn’t even allowed to play in the yard of our apartment building. Mummy was afraid of our neighbors on Hawthorne Street.”

“I’m sorry, Di,” Trixie mumbled. “I’m just worried about something, and I took it out on you. Gripe all you want about being sweaty. I deserve it.”

“Well, you’re griping because you want to go back to the lodge,” Di countered.

“I said I’m sorry,” Trixie retorted. “I told you to gripe about the heat all you wanted.”

“I’m not just griping because I’m sweaty,” Di clipped testily. “I also have a blister on my heel, and it’s really stinging.”

“I told you not to wear those sandals,” Brian commented impatiently, repeating his earlier statement. “They’re not appropriate footwear for hiking.”

“My tennis shoes didn’t look right with this outfit,” Di contended, her bottom lip distended in a pout. “I had to wear my sandals. Fashion has a price, you know. Besides, English Jon told me I’d be fine.”

Trixie sniffed as she flipped her thick curls out of her face. “What does English Jon know?”

“Aw, you’re just sore because he pointed out how bossy you are,” Jim teased with a wink.

Trixie stopped dead in her tracks and whirled around to glare at Jim. “Aw, bite me.”

With an impish glimmer in his eyes, Jim grabbed one of her arms, held it up to his mouth, and gently clamped his teeth into her flesh.

“Ouch!” Trixie yelled, more from amusement than pain. The laughter in her voice made it clear she was not injured. “What did you do that for?”

“You told me to,” Jim replied. Even though he tried to keep a straight face, a smile wobbled at the corners of his mouth.

“Trixie! Jim!” Di moaned, her violet eyes filling with tears. “Quit flirting with each other and get your big, fat fannies out of the road. I need to get to the bus so I can sit down.”

Trixie’s mouth opened in horror. “We are not flirting.”

“Yeah,” Jim sputtered. “I’ll have you know I bite Brian all the time.”

Dan cocked his head to one side and studied his dark-haired friend with mock severity. “Brian? Is this true?”

“Dude,” Brian gasped, shaking his head. “I’ll have you know he has never bitten me. And for the record, he’ll never get the opportunity to bite me.”

Di sighed deeply as she tapped her good foot impatiently. “Hel-LO? I’m still waiting for you to move. I really don’t want to climb over the banister and wade through that poison ivy patch over there. My heel’s really hurting, and I need to get to the bus.”

With a flourish of his hands, Mart bowed gallantly before the ebony-haired beauty and then remained hunched over. “Your chariot awaits, m’lady. Climb aboard, and I shall transport you piggyback to the bus.”

Di’s foul mood lightened considerably as she studied Mart’s precarious position. She giggled as she curtsied daintily. “Thank you, kind sir.” She wrapped one shapely leg around Mart’s back and snaked her arms around her neck.

Mart stood upright, gasping for air. “Can’t breathe,” he squawked.

“Sorry,” Di laughed, loosening her grip. After a playful slap on Mart’s shoulder, she continued in a perfect British accent, “To the bus, Jeeves.”

Mart obediently pushed through Trixie and Jim and walked on up the trail.

Honey placed her hands on her slender hips, feigning indignation. “My feet hurt too.”

“They do?” Brian placed a strong arm around her shoulders. “We can’t have that, can we, Dan?”

“Certainly not,” Dan agreed. With a wink, he walked over and stood on the other side of Honey. Before she could get away, Dan grabbed her by one arm and leg while Brian grabbed the remaining limbs.

“Put me down!” she gasped between giggles.

“You wanted someone to carry you,” Brian reminded her with a broad grin.

“Just don’t drop me,” Honey warned. She squealed as Dan and Brian jokingly allowed her butt to touch the ground.

As Honey was carried away, Trixie turned to Jim. “Don’t even think about it, Frayne.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Belden.” Just as Trixie started to follow the rest of the Bob-Whites, Jim placed a firm hand on her shoulder. “Just a minute, Trix. What are you worried about? I know something’s bothering you.”

Trixie lifted her chin haughtily. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“C’mon, Shamus. A few minutes ago, you told Di you snapped at her because you were worried about something. So, what had you so concerned?”

Trixie shrugged her shoulders, her face the picture of innocence. “I’m just worried about Miss Trask.”

Jim’s green eyes locked with her blue ones. “You’re working on a mystery, aren’t you?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because even though we’re on vacation, the only thing you can think about is going back to the lodge,” Jim retorted. “The only time you act like this is when you’re on the trail of a mystery. You probably want to sneak off with Honey to find some clues.”

“Let me go!” Trixie stamped her foot angrily and tried to walk away, but Jim held her in place.

Jim sighed wearily. He moved his hand from her shoulder so he could rake it through his dark red hair, as he often did when he was apprehensive about something. “Trixie, I came to the conclusion a long time ago that you’re the most mystery-prone person on the whole planet. I know you enjoy solving them, and you’re good at it. It’s part of who you are, and I’d never change a thing about you. I just don’t want you to get yourself kidnapped.” He paused momentarily, and then added quietly, “Or worse.”

Trixie’s angry features softened as she looked up at Jim’s earnestly concerned face. “I’ll be okay, Jim. I’ve learned a lot the past couple years.”

Jim knew it was pointless to argue, so instead of continuing to plead his case, he reached out and tugged on his favorite curl. “I’m here if you need me. I’ll even wear Mart’s old jeans if we need to go on a stakeout. Just don’t go anyplace by yourself. And you probably know this is coming, but I’ll say it anyway: Be careful.”

“Thanks, Jim,” Trixie whispered. She rose up on her tiptoes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “If I need your help, I promise I’ll ask.”

“Shamus, I—”

An aggravated howl farther up the trail made both of them jump.

“Di!” Trixie gasped as she clutched Jim’s arm. The pair raced to catch up with their friends. To their relief, nobody was being mauled by a bear.

“Put me down this instant, Mart Belden!” Di shrieked, wiggling her feet in protest.

“Why?” Mart asked.

“Because I said so!” Di ordered angrily.

With a disgruntled snort, Mart obeyed her wishes and squatted so Di could climb off his back.

After Dan and Brian carefully set down Honey, Brian walked over to his brother. “What did you do to her, Mart?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Mart stormed defensively. “All of a sudden, she just wanted down!”

Dan shook his head derisively and made a “tsk, tsk” sound with his tongue. “Dude, did you pinch Di’s butt?”

“No!” Mart slapped his hand against his forehead in frustration.

“Did he fart on you, Di?” Trixie questioned, her eyes wide. “One time he did that to me. I thought he was being nice, offering to give me a piggyback ride, but soon his sinister intentions were revealed. Everything was fine, then BOOM! He let it rip, and a thick, burrito-scented fog came out of his—”

“Trixie!” Mart exploded, clutching his short sandy curls. “Farting on you is one thing; farting on Di is another. I wouldn’t do that to a real girl!”

Before Trixie could think of a suitable retort, Mart turned to Diana. “What’s the problem, Di?”

“What’s the problem?” Di thundered, her violet eyes sparking with indignation. She moved closer to Mart and began jabbing him against his chest with her index finger to emphasize each word. “The. Problem. Is. That. You. Stink!”

“Huh?” Mart held his hands up in disbelief.

“Mart Belden, you’re smelly!” Di restated in a louder voice. “My bionic nose couldn’t handle the horrible stench seeping out from under your arms!”

“A-ha!” Mart raised a finger in triumph. “I told you our masculine sweat would emanate from our glands!”

With a wrinkle of her nose, Di pulled the neck of her purple graphic tee over her nostrils. “Well, right now it’s emanating all over the place, so please put your arm down.”

Brian leaned over and took a whiff in the general direction of his brother’s armpits. “He doesn’t smell that bad. Trust me, he can stink a lot worse than that. Just wait a couple of days and you’ll see.”

Di blocked the boys with her hand and hobbled away. “You stay over there, and I’ll stay over here.”

“Di, you’re limping,” Mart said sympathetically. “You can’t walk to the bus like that. Get on my back. You can hold your nose if you want to. I won’t be offended.”

“No way!” Di insisted. “I’d rather my entire foot be covered with one big, oozing pus sack than smell your putrid armpits!”

“Diana!” Mart called beseechingly as she began to hop away on her good foot. He reached out to assist her, but she swatted his hands away from her as she bounced up and down.

Dan walked over to Honey and waggled his dark eyebrows. “Ready to go?”

Honey inhaled deeply, grimacing once her nostrils were filled with the surrounding air. “No, thanks! You and Brian stink, too. I’ll hoof it.” She pulled the collar of her pink polo shirt over her nose and hurried on up the trail, shrieking as Dan and Brian chased her.

With a mischievous grin, Jim wrapped one arm around Trixie’s shoulders. He chuckled as he saw her wince. “So, Trix, how’s the air quality down there?”

“Toxic,” she croaked, pinching her nose shut with her index finger and thumb. She tried to wiggle out of his embrace, but he stuck to her like glue. However, after a hearty jab of her elbow against Jim’s ribcage, she managed to escape and jogged up the path while he was gasping for air.

Trixie quickly passed the rest of the Bob-Whites and hurried up the final hill. Once she reached the top, she bent over to catch her breath. She looked up just in time to see English Jon talking with a man who looked strangely familiar.

“The man in the plaid shirt!” she panted. She stood upright to jog over to the bus, but before she mustered the strength to move, the mysterious stranger got in a red Dodge Dakota truck and drove away. Her spirits sank as the pickup sped off before she could even memorize the license plate number.

Why is he here? she thought to herself. And why was he talking to English Jon?

She glanced over at the tall, lanky bus driver and studied him curiously. I have a feeling the rest of this vacation is going to be very interesting, she mused with a smile. It looks like the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency has picked up another case.

The sound of laughter behind her brought Trixie back to reality. She had to giggle as she watched her friends. Honey was squealing as Brian and Dan chased her, their arms stretched out and moaning like zombies from a B-grade horror movie. Mart, clipping at Diana’s heels like an eager puppy, was still begging for a second chance, although it appeared his pleas were being ignored.

“There’s the girl who knocked the wind out of me.”

Trixie turned her head and grinned at her redheaded friend. “Sorry, Jim, but a lady’s got to protect herself. You almost asphyxiated me with that deadly BO.”

Jim stuck his hands in the pockets of his long, tan cargo shorts. “Ready to leave?”

“Yeah. I guess everyone else is getting on the bus.”

Jim nodded in assent. “We’d better hurry.” He wrapped his large freckled hand around her smaller one and gave it a gentle squeeze. He looked down at her, his crooked grin making Trixie’s heart skip a beat. “I can’t wait to see what adventure we’ll find next.”

Trixie smiled up at him, a cool breeze whipping her sandy curls around her face. “Me either, Jim. Me either.”

She followed him to the bus, silently wondering how she could interrogate English Jon without making the boys suspicious, and if perhaps she should talk to Jim about this.

Credits:

Firstly, a huge “thank you” to my faithful editors, Kathy, Kaye, and Steph. What would I do without you all? And yes, Kaye, I added the “all” for your benefit since I know how well you like it. *wink*

Thank you again to the fabulous Jixster who painted this lovely pic of Blackwater Falls. You rock!

Levi’s® are a brand of blue jeans, which apparently the Belden boys like. Previous stories have mentioned their affinity for this brand.

“Stripper” is an actual song that our jazz band performed during basketball season. However, our majorette coach forbid us to do a routine to it. In fact, when the band played that particular song, we weren’t even allowed to move. It was challenging to keep still during that song, especially considering its catchy “ba bumps”.

Wal-Mart is a huge chain in the U.S. They do sell an assortment of cheap watches there. I wore one out that cost $5.

Kevin the desk clerk was based upon a guy who tortured me to death during high school. Yes, his modus operandi was very similar to the fanfic’s Kevin. The biggest difference was that fanfic Kevin gave up much more quickly than real life Kevin.

Napoleon Dynamite is a character in a movie by the same name which features a guy who looked remarkably like the guy named Kevin that I mentioned, but since y’all have never seen Kevin, I decided to allow Napoleon to be your visual. If you haven’t seen the movie, I don’t know what to tell you. Parts of it amused me, parts of it irritated me, and parts of it disturbed me. Napoleon’s dance near the end was hilarious, and his friend Pedro was a hoot. However, I feel that I should warn you that you will incessantly say “Gosh!” in an annoyed manner after viewing this film.

The Moonwalk is a dance Michael Jackson did in the 80’s, and I wouldn’t recommend that young men today to it to impress girls.

My ancient 35mm Canon camera takes two AA batteries, is so heavy that you wouldn’t miss the batteries, and still works quite well.

English Bob is based upon a real Englishman that my DH used to work with. Because there are so many other employees there who share his name, he is called English ***. I didn’t want to use his real name, so alas, Jon doesn’t sound as good as ***.

“Comme il faut” is a French saying which means “as is necessary, or as is required”.

Crêpes aux Fruits de mer are crêpes that contain fish, scallops, shrimp, and a bunch of other stuff. Although I love seafood, the sound kind of icky to me.

Yes, in this part Trixie was a bit rude and impatient. She tended to get that way when she was obsessed with working on a mystery, and I think she’d eventually grow out of this as she matures. I don’t like to make my characters too perfect because then they get annoying. I thought this would be a good spot to show Trixie’s impatience, but I also tried to show her remorse for sounding that way. These characters all have their bad traits, as well as their mainly good ones, and I like to acknowledge these every once in a while.

The “no deodorant pact” was made by the boys in Part One.