A Familiar Voice • 9

A few hours later, they returned to the hotel tired but happy. They had found something for an early dinner in their travels and were ready to spend the evening together in their rooms. On entering the complex, however, they found the driveway that led to their parking spaces blocked by a small truck. Honey volunteered to stop by the front desk and see if it could be moved.

She was still a few steps away from the door when she heard a man’s voice say, “Are you sure you won’t sell?”

Honey stopped short, gasping.

Another man answered. “Yes, we’re sure. We’re not changing our minds on this, Steve. The answer we’ve already given is final.”

“Even after what’s just happened?”

“Yes! No matter what happens.”

“You can’t really say that.”

“I suppose not, but it sums up our attitude. Even if we did want to sell, we’d want to sell to like-minded people. We don’t want to see the site redeveloped. Not ever.”

“Nothing lasts forever.”

There was a note of finality in the words. Honey turned and fled in the direction she had come. She wrenched open the rear door of her car and urged Trixie to get out.

“You go and ask.” Honey got into the car and shut the door. “I don’t want him to see me, if I can help it. And get a good look at him, if you can.”

Trixie asked no questions, but ran lightly up to the front office. At the door, she met a neatly dressed man in his thirties, with well-styled dark hair and a slight frown on his face. He excused himself and stepped past her. Right behind him was the man they had dealt with several times, looking less friendly than she had ever seen him.

“Oh, sorry.” Trixie smiled. “I was just coming to ask if the truck could be moved so we can get through, but it looks like it’s about to be moved without my having to ask. That is the guy who drove the truck, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience. I hope he’ll be out of the way in a minute or two.”

“Are you okay?” she asked, impulsively.

His expression altered at once. “Thank you for asking; I’m fine.”

Trixie nodded and returned to the car. In her absence, Jim had taken the wheel and reversed out of the truck’s way. The other car was also back on the street, while the truck’s reversing alarm beeped. Trixie passed in front of it as it continued to back and met up with her friends.

“What was that all about, Hon?” she asked, once she was inside.

“That man’s voice! It was him!”

“Him? Who him?”

“The man who took me last night.” Honey was clutching at Mart’s hand and leaning away from where the man in the truck might see in. “I never saw his face; either he was behind me, or he was shining a light in my eyes, or I was blindfolded. But I heard his voice and now I know it wasn’t the guy who died last night; I thought at the time that he sounded different, only he just kept shouting and I thought that explained it, only now I know that it wasn’t him after all – it was him!”

Trixie digested this for a moment. “We have to tell the police.”

“Already done,” Mart answered.

“Then tell me everything. What did you just hear?”

Honey took a breath to gather her thoughts. A short distance away, the truck finished reversing and lumbered down the street.

“He wanted to buy something, but the man from the hotel was refusing. From the context, I gathered that they were talking about the hotel and that the man in the truck wanted to buy it and redevelop the site, but the man from the hotel didn’t want that ever to happen – and why would he? I mean, look at it; it’s lovely, if a bit time-worn in places, but it just gives it more character. Oh, and he called him Steve. Not the man in the hotel, but the man in the truck. I mean, the man in the hotel called the man in the truck Steve; not the other way around.”

“Did it strike anyone else as odd,” Mart asked, “that a man who was as well-dressed as him would drive a truck like that one?”

Honey nodded. “I wonder why he did? If I saw him, I would guess that he would drive quite a nice car.”

“Maybe we should be finding out,” Trixie answered. “Can we follow him?”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Jim replied, manoeuvring up the driveway as he spoke.

“Why not?” Trixie sounded dismayed.

Jim kept his eyes on where he was going. “Because the other car already went after him. I think it would be suspicious if we did, too.”

Trixie craned her neck to see out the back window, only to find that the road was no longer in sight. She thumped back against her seat, thinking hard. Jim parked the car and the four of them got out. Before they had time to go back upstairs, however, Honey’s phone rang.

“It’s Di,” she informed them, then answered it. “What’s happening?”

A tense silence followed, as Di spoke. Honey made affirmative noises every so often, then ended the call.

“Well?” Trixie demanded.

“They’re still following him, but they think he knows they’re there. He’s on the same road we were on earlier.”

Jim frowned. “I guess, in that case, he probably comes from the next town.”

The phone rang again and Honey answered it.

“He did? Really? What are you doing?… I guess so. Okay, talk to you then.” She turned to the others. “You’ll never guess where he went!”

Trixie turned and looked out in the direction she presumed her friends would be. “The ugly house?”

Honey stamped a foot. “You were supposed to not be able to guess!”

Her best friend grinned. “So, what are they doing?”

“Well, they decided to keep driving straight past him, so he wouldn’t think they were following him. They’ll come back a little later. There isn’t another way around nearby, otherwise they’d take it.”

Jim nodded. “Well, how about if we go upstairs and wait for them there?”

The others agreed and they returned to the girls’ suite. Trixie took some time to look at the damage on the balcony, but some cleaning had been done in the interim. The floor was heavily stained with blue, but the railings of the one below were clean when she looked over the edge. Her sharp eyes, however, picked out a smudge of blue high up on the wall. She went inside, heading for the stairs.

“What’s up?” Mart asked, from his position lounging on the sofa.

“I just need to check something out.”

Her steps were light and quick as she climbed the stairs. She soon heard Honey following her. Reaching the top, she began looking out through each of the windows in turn.

“What are we looking for?” Honey wondered as she observed her friend.

“Any hint that the person who spilled the paint came by a different method than the streamer-strewer.” Trixie peered out the window and made an exclamation. “Like that.”

She stepped back for Honey to see. “That smear up there?”

Trixie nodded. “I think this guy went over the roof, rather than climbing up from the lower balcony.”

Honey thought for a moment. “It would explain how he could get away without getting paint all over him. That would be important if he wanted to get away with it.”

“Exactly.” Trixie crossed to the opposite window. “The only thing I need to figure out now is how he got up there in the first place – especially without anyone seeing him.”

Honey frowned at the dwindling light. “Maybe we’ll have to check that out in the morning.”

Before Trixie could answer, Honey’s phone rang again. Trixie shifted her weight from one foot to the other throughout the short conversation.

“They’re following him again, only now he’s in a car,” Honey relayed, then returned her attention to Di.

A minute later, the call ended.

“What’s happening?”

Honey shrugged. “She’ll call back when they get anywhere, but they’re in the next town.”

“And how do they know it’s him?”

“They were parked somewhere, waiting until they thought it was safe to come back, and he pulled up right in front of them and got out for a minute.”

“What did he do?”

Once again, Honey shrugged. “She didn’t tell me that. Anyway, he got back in and drove away and they thought they’d better follow him. But you’ll never guess what they saw right near the place where he stopped – and you’d better really not be able to guess this time.”

Trixie shook her head, grinning. “Tell me.”

“A wall, half-painted in exactly the same blue as that paint!”

Her eyes widened. “It’s probably easier to steal paint than to buy it without anyone knowing it was you.”

Honey smiled. “Cheaper, too, if all you want to do is make a big mess.”

“I just wish we could get up on the roof and check for clues,” Trixie mused, to Honey’s horror.

“What? No!” Her best friend shook her head. “There is no way I am getting any closer to that roof than I already am! Have you seen how high it is?”

Trixie glanced out the window. “I guess you’re right. I don’t think I’d like it up there, either.”

The phone rang again and Honey talked for only a few seconds.

“They’re coming back,” she explained. “They think the guy saw them again and he started driving aggressively, so they’re giving it up.”

Trixie’s face showed her disappointment. “That’ll be my responsible brother making the decisions.”

“Maybe.” Honey smiled. “I know it’s not Di doing the driving because she’s the one doing the talking.”

“Well, let’s go back to Mart and Jim. We can catch them up on what’s going on.”

They did so and fell into conversation. Trixie was distracted and edgy, but tried to keep up with the others’ chatter. At last they heard steps outside in the hallway, a knock on the door and a called greeting. Honey, who was closest, threw it open.

“Well?” Mart asked, seeming just as eager as his sister. “What did you find out?”

“On the way back, we drove past the place where the man stopped,” Di explained. “And we saw a guy come out and get into a car and he went the same way as us, and we thought for a while he was following us, but he stopped at the ugly house.”

Brian took up the story. “There’s a place a little further down the road where you can see back to the driveway of the house and we think we saw the truck come out and turn away from us, but it was too far away, and too dark, to be sure.”

“And what was the place you first saw him?” Trixie wanted to know. “What did he do there?”

“It was a landscape supplies company, among other things. Called ‘Steve’s Landscaping’.” Dan’s eyes met Trixie’s. “There’s a little office with a yard for gravel and stuff, and a sign that tells all the other services they can supply: lawn mowing and gardening and cleaning and a few other things… including window cleaning.”

Trixie’s breath caught. Dan saw that she had caught his drift and nodded.

“Window cleaning?” Honey asked, frowning. “Oh! You mean, he might have used window cleaning equipment to get to our balcony? Then why wasn’t he dressed for window cleaning when we saw him?”

“He must have changed his clothes to be more presentable before he came here to try to bully the owners into selling.” Trixie brushed the matter aside. “So, what happened next?”

“They had a closed sign out, but he went right in,” Di replied. “He was hardly there any time at all, but he was talking to someone and we heard the last thing he said, which was something like, ‘I want it out of the way tonight, okay?’”

Honey gulped. “It? Or him?”

“It.”

“Probably the truck, I’d guess.” Trixie glanced around to see who agreed. “Since we know it probably left soon after. Maybe he was dropping off the keys.”

Brian nodded. “That makes sense.”

“But why did he have the truck here at all?” Honey wondered. “That’s what we keep coming back to.”

“And what was in the back?” Trixie looked around. “I can guess both answers, but I don’t have any proof.”

“And you can bet that even if the police looked, they’d find nothing that wasn’t a legitimate part of the business and that he did some window-cleaning somewhere near here this afternoon. You can bet that he made sure not to get any blue paint on anything.” Dan crossed to the sofa and sat down. “I think the mystery’s solved, Trixie, and all that’s left is for the police to find enough proof.”

“I guess so.” She sank onto the arm of the other sofa. “It’s just not what I envisioned at the start of this case. I had the idea that it would be a fun thing to find out what the crazy guy wanted and try to help him get it – or, at least, to be happy with what he has.”

“He wasn’t ever going to be happy,” a voice proclaimed. “He just wasn’t that kind of person.”

Honey’s face blanched and she spun around. “You! How did you get in here?”

The Key • 10

He was standing at the top of the stairs, a gun trained on them.

“The upstairs windows, I would guess.” Dan stood to look at the man, at the same time moving between the gunman and Honey. “You need a good head for heights to clean windows.”

“Smart,” the man snapped. “Now, you’re all going to do as I say, or there are going to be dire consequences, understand?”

“Like what happened to Michael Windsor?” Trixie asked.

Steve turned his attention to her. “I didn’t kill that idiot. He cracked up and killed himself.”

“To-may-to, to-mah-to,” she muttered under her breath. Jim nudged her and frowned.

“You don’t need to be doing this.” Dan’s voice was quiet, but clear. “Why not go, before you make things worse?”

“Worse?” The man’s voice rose in pitch. “I don’t have anything left to lose. You’ve set the police on me and they’re going to blame me for everything. They probably think I killed that whiny loser.”

Trixie shook her head. “Morally, I think you’re responsible, but I don’t think they can charge you with that. Unless you really did kill him.”

“Not helping, Trix,” Dan muttered.

“Shut up, all of you!” Steve yelled, his face going red. “You – blondie – go and stand by the door.”

Trixie moved slowly, watching him the whole time.

“You’re going to do a job for me,” he told her, with an unpleasant grin. “Catch.”

He threw a small object and Trixie instinctively caught it.

“Deliver that to the police for me, will you?” He sneered. “It’s exactly the thing they’ve been looking for. Tell them you found it somewhere. Down by the lake, maybe.”

She looked at the key in her hand. It was an ordinary brass one, with a tag made out of a scrap of sheet metal. A diagram had been scratched into the surface of the tag, but in that moment she could not make out what it meant.

“I’ll need some car keys,” she told him.

He waved the gun at the others and Jim tossed his to her. With a quick backward glance, Trixie opened the door.

“Remember: all of your friends will be here with me. Make sure you do as I’m telling you.” Steve laughed. “If you’re not back in half an hour, you won’t like the consequences.”

Gulping, Trixie stepped out into the corridor. Almost at once, the man screamed for her to come back, but not before she saw several police officers crouching nearby, weapons drawn. She stepped back into the room.

“I forgot something.” With one hand, he patted each of his pockets in turn, then his face cleared. “I just need to hand this one to you. We wouldn’t want it to break.”

Slowly, he walked down the stairs, never taking his eyes off them. When he reached the bottom, he indicated for Trixie to approach him. She kept her steps slow and even, though her heart pounded and her mind searched for a way out of this situation. The gunman was standing a couple of paces from Dan and, for a few moments, Trixie thought this was a terrible circumstance. Then she met Dan’s eyes. He glanced down, then across to the balcony. Steve’s face was half-turned away from Dan and he noticed nothing.

Trixie reached Steve and began to hold out her hand to take whatever he wanted to give her, but at the last moment froze. A surprised exclamation crossed her lips and she turned to the balcony doors. Steve turned that way as well and aimed the gun in that direction. From the corner of her eye, Trixie saw Dan swing down and pick up the large bottle Trixie had rescued from the lake. He lifted it in one smooth motion and brought it down on the gunman’s shoulder.

The man fell to the floor with a cry of pain and the gun skidded away. Dan dropped the bottle and sprang to restrain the man before he could recover.

“Quick! Open the door!” Trixie cried. “The police are already waiting outside.”

Jim was there in a moment and let them in. In the confusion that followed, Trixie stepped back near where Honey stood and took the time to examine the key in her hand. Enlightenment came to her just as events in the room drew her attention away.

“Aah!” Steve yelled, as the police relieved Dan of his captive. “My shoulder! I’ve been assaulted. I want to press charges!”

Trixie turned to her friend. “What do you think, Hon? Do you think this guy can afford a better lawyer than your father can?”

Honey smiled, but seemed more interested in the key. “What do you think it’s for?”

Trixie held it out, etched side of the tag uppermost. “I think this is a map showing where the lock is located, and I think I know where this is. Does this look like the shore of the lake to you? I think I remember seeing a run-down shack about there.”

Their captor, who had by now been restrained, let out a bellow, which made both of them jump. When they turned to look at him, they saw that he was staring at a broken item on the floor. Fragments of glass shone and the contents spread in an uneven patch.

“Is that what he was going to hand you?” Honey wondered.

Trixie shrugged. “Could be. What do you think it was?”

“You idiots!” the man yelled. “Just look what you’ve done! That proved that it wasn’t me who took that girl yesterday and now look at it!”

“If it wasn’t you,” Trixie snapped, “then why were you even here?”

“I’ve been framed!” he answered. “I want a lawyer.”

“He needs a whole lot more than that,” Trixie muttered to Honey. “A psychiatrist would be a good start.”

“Shh! Don’t give him ideas,” Honey whispered back.

“Okay, okay. But what is that he dropped?” Trixie asked, stepping closer to try to see the wet patch on the floor better.

Dan stepped up to her and held her back. “Better stay away. They’ll need it for evidence.”

“That he didn’t take me?” Honey asked, but Dan shook his head.

“That’s what he’d been drugging the other guy with. That’s the proof that he’s behind all this.” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been sampling some of it himself. He’s not thinking too clearly, that’s for sure.”

Perhaps the prisoner heard some of what they were saying, as he began to yell insults against the dead man. Before he had left the room, however, his rant became directed at the hotel, its owners and their stubbornness. As he was led away, he tried to turn and address Trixie, but was prevented. His voice carried to her, regardless.

“You’re going to pay for messing with me, blondie! You’re going to regret this!”

When he was gone, Jim strode across to Trixie and took her in his arms.

“That was entirely too close,” he murmured in her ear.

“Yeah, maybe,” she agreed, “but we’re all okay, which is what matters.”

“So, who called the police?” Di asked, glancing around at her friends, who all shook their heads.

“I did,” a voice replied, from the doorway. It was the man who owned the hotel. He hovered in the doorway, looking uncomfortable. “I saw him sneak up the driveway a little while back and thought he looked up to no good.”

“Thank you.” Honey smiled in his direction. “I can’t tell you how glad I was to see them!”

“It’s nothing,” he answered. After a glance around the room he added, “I brought some other room keys. I’m guessing the police might like to examine this one. Would you like to come with me?”

They followed him down the hallway to another, similar suite just as some other police officers were arriving on the scene. Trixie glanced after them and hesitated, eyeing the key still in her hand.

“I guess I need to give this to them,” she mused.

The man nodded. “Probably. But it can wait until they want to talk to you. It’s the key to the little hut Mike lived in, down by the lake. I already gave them a copy of it and they’ve been through his things.”

Trixie sighed. “So, that Steve guy had it all wrong the whole time he was here tonight. He’s sure not going to make a master criminal. I’m almost ashamed to have taken so long to figure out it was him.”

“You’re losing your touch,” Mart teased. “It took you days to find him. You’ll have to hang up your sleuthing hat at this rate.”

“I think you have a case or two in you, yet,” Jim assured her. “And our trip isn’t over. Maybe there’s another mystery for the return journey.”

“That would be fabulous,” Honey enthused, while Mart pretended to groan.

“I really had hoped that you’d grown out of this kind of dangerous situation.” Matthew Wheeler shook his head at his son’s girlfriend, smiling in spite of his words.

Trixie’s face turned pink and she did not know quite how to reply. When they had called home the night before, the news that Honey had been taken hostage a second time in a few days had not gone down well with her father. He had been waiting on their doorstep when the earliest risers awoke in the morning.

“Not that I blame you,” he continued, sipping his coffee. “I just didn’t expect this kind of thing to happen.”

“It was out of the blue for all of us,” Jim replied. “I’ll admit that I didn’t think there was much risk from what was happening here. It all seemed pretty harmless at the beginning.”

Trixie spoke up then. “I think it would have been harmless, if that Steve guy hadn’t decided to use it for his own ends.”

“I’m still not sure I know what those are,” Di admitted. “I mean, I heard him ranting last night about how much he hated the hotel and everything, but I still don’t really understand why.”

Trixie glanced away. “I’m not really sure, but I think it started as an idea and became an obsession. I got talking to one of the owners last night – by the way, she admitted that someone had tried to take her the other night and had done something that made her head bleed. While she thought it was her nephew, she wasn’t going to admit it, but now she is. Anyway, she told me that Steve had been trying to buy the place for years and had been asking more and more often as time went on. The previous owners wouldn’t sell, either, but he thought he could pressure her into it.”

“And he wanted to redevelop,” Honey added, thinking. “He’s the owner of that ugly house across the lake, so I’d guess that he doesn’t like the architecture here.”

“I love the architecture here,” Trixie put in. “Someday, I want to come back and stay in a tower room.”

“Maybe you’ll get your wish sooner than that.” Di’s brow creased. “We were supposed to be leaving in a couple of days and take a couple of days to get back, but I’m not sure the police are going to let us leave town. These rooms might not be available and we might have to move somewhere else.”

“No, that should all be taken care of,” Matthew assured her. “My lawyers are already involved and they should be able to secure permission for you to leave on schedule. However, I was wondering whether you’d prefer to fly home early.”

The group shared glances, but it was Trixie who spoke. “I think we’d rather stick to our plan. We were going to take it a little slower on the way back and see some sights along the way. But thank you for asking.”

“I thought you might say something like that.” He smiled at her. “Well, I hope you enjoyed your adventure and that the next one is rather less violent.”

Trixie’s blush deepened, while her friends laughed.

The End

Back to cover page.

Author’s Notes:

This story was originally part of a compilation, made in honour of Amy K., a former Jix author who lost her battle with cancer in 2014. As soon as I heard about the compilation, I knew that I had to write something for it, but what to write was something of a dilemma. I just had too many ideas of what the story should be. After reviewing the stories in progress on my hard drive, I eventually came to the conclusion that I needed to start something new.

In my search for inspiration, I visited the Circle Writing Challenges page and read the requirements for challenge number 8, which I had long intended to try but had never done. (You’ll find the challenge page at http://jixemitri.net/circle/challenges/cwc8.html)

I made the cover image found at the top of each page and then began to think about what a story of this title, with that cover picture combination, would be like. My first stop was the dictionary, where I looked up the various words, looking for shades of meaning I could exploit. It told me that a conundrum is 1 a riddle, esp. one with a pun in its answer. 2 a hard or puzzling question. Hairy can mean 1 made of or covered with hair. 2 having the feel of hair. 3 colloquial a alarmingly unpleasant or difficult. b crude, clumsy. (Both from the Australian Concise Oxford Dictionary.) Dilemmas bring to mind difficult choices.

Riddles whose answer include puns. An alarmingly unpleasant or difficult situation. Somebody hairy. A difficult choice. Interesting architecture. Trixie going off somewhere in the dark. Add to these ingredients the current fashion for Brian/Di stories, a pairing that I hadn’t really explored before, and this story is the result.

I did do some research on lake water temperatures, driving times from New York to South Carolina and a few other incidental topics. I also had assistance from a number of people on the Jix message board, including Vivian, Susansuth, kellykath, PatK, Diana, Rolyru, KayeKL, Dianafan and MarnHon. Needless to say, I probably got lots of things wrong and it’s not in any way their fault.

Editing was done by the lovely Mary N. (Dianafan). Thank you so much, Mary! Your help is very much appreciated.

All South Carolina locations and characters are entirely fictional.

Cover by Trix-e-tron
http://www.trixie-belden.com/interactive/trixetron.htm
(Trix-e-tron created by Jenni J)

Please note: Trixie Belden is a registered trademark of Random House Publishing. This site is in no way associated with Random House and no profit is being made from these pages.

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