Honey placed her hands on her hips and looked around the clubhouse in satisfaction. Everything was in place and ready. Checking her watch, she placed a CD in the stereo and pressed “play”. Happily singing along with Bing Crosby, she smiled and greeted her brother with a kiss as he entered, carrying boxes of food and gifts.

“Explain to me again why we still use the clubhouse for Christmas Eve get-togethers? It’s so much work hauling everything!”

Honey took the boxes and began unloading them, placing the food on the decorated conference table and the gifts underneath the small Christmas tree. “You would be the first to complain if we broke tradition, and you know it. Besides, it’s not often we have both of our extremely capable co-presidents present to preside over the festivities,” she added slyly. Her discreet glance to note Jim's reaction was rewarded by the sight of a slow flush creeping up his neck.

He turned to her with a grin. “You’re right, Honey. It should be a lot of fun!”

They worked in silence, readying the clubhouse and waiting for the others. Jim found himself checking the window often, anxious for the first glimpse of a certain sandy-haired beauty. His mind drifted to the tobogganing earlier in the day.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.” Trixie sounded more surprised than regretful. Her next words were lost to Jim as he drank in the sight of her. A dark blue toque covered the top of her head, but couldn’t contain the heavy mass of blonde curls that were longer, thicker, and even more adorable than he remembered. Her powder blue ski jacket was stylish and form fitting, accentuating her trim and athletic build. With one arm around her brother, she was the vivacious, loving girl he remembered. His attention snapped into focus as she placed her hands on the tree and began climbing.

“Whoa!” Not stopping to think, he hurried to her side. “Those branches don’t look very healthy.” He was grasping at straws, but didn’t care. He knelt in front of her quickly, solving two problems at once by hiding his face and appearing to know what he was doing.

“Climb up,” he invited, hoping like crazy that she would accept his offer and not leave him looking like an idiot. He waited with bated breath for what seemed an eternity until he felt her cautiously climb onto his shoulders. Not really paying attention to his own words, he kept up the inane chatter. When she steadied herself by holding onto his hair, he was swept back to other times when she had run her fingers through his hair, and found he needed to steady himself. By the time he could stand easily, Trixie was already reaching for the toboggan. He gripped her legs securely, relieved that she didn’t stiffen under his touch. He willed his mind to go blank as she twisted and turned, and was subsequently caught off-guard when the toboggan hurtled toward them. He tried to get them out of harm’s way, but only succeeded in landing them both face down in the snow.

“I think you can let go now,” Trixie’s voice was muffled. Before he even realized he was still holding her, she had shaken him off and was getting up. Unable to resist, he sat up and brushed the snow from her face.

“Is this all you ever do? Dump girls in snow banks?”

Jim’s mouth went dry as he remembered the last snow day he and Trixie had shared. “It’s worked well for me in the past.” He watched her face, knew that she remembered, too. Their eyes locked, and time stood still until Brian interrupted to ask if they were okay.

Jim’s reverie was interrupted by a knock at the door. He smiled to himself and hastened to open it, hoping for a memorable Christmas Eve.

Trixie stepped out on to the porch, weighed down by her box of presents and food. “Come on, you guys, we’re going to be late!” She called back through the open door just to irritate her brothers, who were only a step behind her. She giggled as Mart prodded her in the back.

“Keep it moving, missy,” he growled, “You’re holding up the line.”

She stood to the side and let Brian and Mart pass her, closing the door securely after Dan joined them.

“Ready?” she asked him, and then did a quick double take. “Dan,” she whispered, “what’s with the--”

He gave her a bright smile, but his dark eyes flashed a warning as he indicated her brothers, who were not out of earshot.

Trixie kept her eyes on Dan but spoke to her siblings. “I think I forgot something. Brian, Mart, you go on ahead and help Honey. I’m sure she could use some muscle power by now. Dan, do you mind waiting for me?”

“What’s the big deal, Trix? Even if you did forget something, you probably couldn’t carry anything more, anyway,” Mart protested.

“That’s why I asked Dan to stay, smarty-pants. Of course, if you’d rather stay and help me than find just the right spot for that mistletoe I saw you swipe from Bobby, you’re more than welcome.”

“Forget it,” Mart muttered. “Ready, Brian?” But Brian was already well on his way down the path, eager to help Honey. “Hey, Brian, wait up!”

Mart and Brian disappeared down the path, their companionable bickering lost in the wind.

Trixie chuckled. “They’re so easy.” She sobered, looking at the large leather bag Dan carried. “Okay. Spill it. I have a feeling you have more than just Christmas cookies in there.”

Dan shrugged and looked into the preserve, but huge, wet flakes of snow tossed by the wind blocked his view. “Did you notice anything at the park today?”

She snorted. “Besides the fact that Bobby is completely and hopelessly wrapped around Amanda Lynch’s little finger?”

Dan didn’t laugh. “Yes, besides that.”

Trixie frowned. “Nothing specific. I’ve been trying to put my finger on it all afternoon. Something just didn’t seem right. Everything was fine until my little incident with the SlickSlide. After that, I had the distinct impression that I was being…”

“Watched?”

Trixie sighed and closed her eyes. “It was more than that. I felt like I was being studied, pursued.” She shivered. “What did you notice?”

Dan shook his head as he stared into the game preserve again. “A flash of something. It could have been an animal, I suppose.”

Trixie snorted. “That explains your extra equipment.”

“Something doesn’t feel right.”

“I know.” Dan’s instincts were good. Trixie knew that he didn’t jump to conclusions or over-react the way she sometimes still did. If Dan were worried, there was a good reason for his concern. She eyed the leather bag warily. “I really hope that’s completely unnecessary. I can’t even begin to think of a way to explain any of this to the others.”

Dan smiled and picked up the bag of presents. “The chances are slim. Think of it as, better safe than sorry.”

Trixie nodded, and they carefully made their way to the clubhouse, listening and watching intently.

“Look at all the food!” Mart unceremoniously dumped his presents under the tree.

Brian snuck behind Honey and nuzzled the back of her neck. “Happy Christmas Eve, Honey!”

Honey giggled and turned to embrace him. “Merry Christmas, yourself, Dr. Belden.”

“Dude! What’s with the purse?” Mart spotted Dan and Trixie, who were entering the clubhouse after shaking the snow off their clothes.

Dan smiled enigmatically. “I believe the politically correct term is 'murse', Mart. You know, a carry-all kind of bag for guys.”

Mart snorted. “Yeah. Murse. Like I said, nice purse, Dan.”

Dan grinned and relegated his bag to the far corner of the room. “Better?” he asked.

“Much.” Mart nodded, reassured that his masculinity was no longer threatened.

“Wow! When did you find time to decorate the clubhouse?” Trixie interrupted Brian and Honey’s greeting to gush. “It’s beautiful!”

“I hereby call to order this Christmas Eve celebration of the Bob Whites of the Glen.” Jim raised his voice to be heard over the general din of conversation, then raised an eyebrow and looked at Trixie. “Unless my co-president would like to do the honours?”

Trixie smiled and shook her head. “It’s all yours, Jim. Just don’t let it go to your head,” she warned. Everyone grinned as Jim pretended to be offended. He stared them down sternly before continuing.

“Today’s agenda consists of presents and food. Shall we vote on which we want to do first?”

Mart raised his hand immediately.

“I think we all know what Mart’s vote is,” Brian groaned. “I move that we withhold his right to vote based on the fact that it’s impossible for him to be impartial.”

Honey stared at him in surprise. “That is the most undemocratic statement I have ever heard you make, Brian! Since when is voting about impartiality? Isn’t the very point of voting to express an opinion?”

Brian stared back. “Yes, but are you ready to eat again?”

Honey eyed the table of snacks and sighed. “I’m still full from lunch in the park. Okay. I’ll second the motion to suppress Mart’s vote.”

Brian's smile was triumphant. “I knew you’d see reason.”

Mart sputtered with indignation. “Hey! You don’t know how I was going to vote! For your information, my caloric intake was sufficiently high at our noon-tide repast that I am most willing to suspend further nourishment until after we have exchanged our sentimental tokens.” He smirked at the look of surprise on his fellow Bob Whites’ faces. “Besides, I have it on good authority that there are some awesome gifts to open. Let’s get to it!”

Diana shyly opened her purse and removed six envelopes. “I’ll start, if you don’t mind.” She distributed the envelopes and continued. “I’ve given each of you a gift certificate for the book store not far from my apartment. It’s small, but they carry an interesting assortment of books, and they serve coffee, tea, and hot chocolate while you browse, and the owners are the most wonderful people, and...” Diana took a breath.

“Thank you, Diana!” Honey interjected. “Maybe we could all go into the city together after Christmas. Then those of us who live further away will get a chance to use the certificates before they go home.”

Trixie nodded with such vehemence that her curls bounced. “This is perfect, Di! I’ve been waiting to buy the next book in my favourite mystery series. I can read it on the way home!” Trixie gave her friend a hug.

“I didn’t realize you were into reading, Di,” Brian commented, while Mart wisely kept similar thoughts to himself.

Di shrugged, her face scarlet, and picked at imaginary fluff on her violet sweater. “It happened gradually.”

Mart took the attention off her by hauling out his own stack of gifts. “And on that note,” he began, passing out the heavy, crudely wrapped presents. “I present to you the cookbook that has seen me through years of rooming with people who have no comprehension of the phrase, ‘made from scratch’. In this book, you will find simple recipes for any kind of meal you want to make. Every term is explained, each dish is pictured, and the directions are easy to follow. I figured everyone could use more variety in their cooking.”

The Bob Whites leafed through their books, commenting on various dishes. Trixie groaned. “Now I’m hungry all over again. Maybe we should have eaten first!”

In a smooth motion, Honey removed the book from Trixie's hands and placed it on the table. “None of that,” she commanded. “Quick! Somebody pass out more presents!”

Brian smiled and removed a stack of envelopes from under the tree. “Di and I had the same idea. There’s a really great restaurant close to the hospital. I thought maybe we could all go and have a fun meal together before we go our separate ways.”

Mart licked his lips and placed a hand on his stomach. “Did I say I was full? Because right now, all this talk of food is--”

Trixie quickly interrupted. “Not yet, Bottomless Pit Boy. There are still a few gifts to open.” She nudged Dan, and together they handed out two gifts to each person. “Dan and I cheated this year,” she admitted, handing Diana two neatly wrapped presents. “I chose for the girls, and he chose for the guys. I hope you like them!”

Jim narrowed his eyes and studied Trixie intently as the others tore off the paper. Somehow, the thought that Dan had helped pick Trixie’s gift to him did not sit well at all. However, when he finally unwrapped his gift, he had to laugh. “Lethal Weapon? Oh, man! I can’t remember the last time I watched this!”

Brian and Mart were chuckling as well. “So, what are you ladies going to be doing while we men indulge our testosterone cravings?” They were holding the other Lethal Weapon movies.

Honey snorted. “Well, we’re certainly not sticking around to see you get all worked up over car chases, explosions, sweat, and blood.” She opened her gift and squealed with glee as the face of Alicia Silverstone stared back at her. “Clueless! I love this movie!”

She watched eagerly as Diana unwrapped Legally Blonde, giggling at the horrified expression on Brian’s face. “I think this calls for a sleepover! The boys can stay at Crabapple Farm, and the girls at the Manor House.”

Mart frowned. “Why do you want the big screen television for chick flicks? I think we men with our action-packed, high-definition movies should be at the Manor House.”

Honey gave him a withering look. “You don’t understand, Mart. Our sleepovers require a very high standard of snacking food. Professional calibre, if you take my point. We won’t be snacking on chips and,” she wrinkled her nose, “beef jerky, or whatever it is that you guys eat when watching movies. And at the Manor House,” she concluded airily, “we just happen to have a chef of impeccable taste. If you like, we could send him over with something hot for you. After he’s finished serving us, of course.”

Dan held back a laugh as Jim, Brian, and Mart rolled their eyes.

“Of course, you’re always welcome to join us.” Diana fluttered her eyelashes.

The men eyed the chick flicks with apprehension.

Mart groaned. “Okay, you can have your little food-fest and enjoy the big screen television, but I call dibs on the leftovers. If there are any.” He shot Trixie a dark look. “I’ve seen how some of you eat.”

Trixie merely stuck out her tongue and turned to whisper something in Honey’s ear. Shaking with laughter, Honey turned to Mart. “Okay, smarty-pants. The morning after the sleepover we’ll invite you manly men over for breakfast. I believe Antonio makes a delicious Belgian waffle.”

The men rolled their eyes as the girls dissolved into giggles. “So, let’s open the second gift,” Mart finally suggested, tired of the girls laughing at him. His eyes grew wide as he opened the small package and found a compilation CD, obviously put together by Trixie. The cover featured men with hair. Big hair.

“What the--”

Trixie snatched the CD away from him. “If you don’t like it, that’s fine. I’m sure I can find plenty of people who appreciate the music of the eighties.”

“Yeah, but you’d have to go back in time to do it,” Brian muttered, earning himself a glare from his sister.

“Try it. You’ll like it.” Trixie winked at them. “And chicks go for this kind of stuff. Honest.”

Mart took back his copy of the CD and held it gingerly. “Are you sure they won’t think I play for the other team?”

Dan smiled. “I made sure your CDs have only the manliest music of the eighties.”

Jim raised his eyebrows. “You helped with this?” he exclaimed. “Dude! What happened to you?”

A glutton for punishment, Dan leaned over and whispered in Jim’s ear, “Trixie’s right. The chicks do go for it.”

Jim started to laugh, then eyed Dan warily. “Wait a minute. Which chi--”

He was interrupted by Honey’s squeal of delight. “Chicago! And Boston! I can’t wait to listen to it!”

Di sighed dreamily. “Jon Bon Jovi. Does it get any better?”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Okay. Enough with the sappy music already. Honey, don’t you have some gifts to hand out?”

“Oh! Right!” Jumping to her feet, Honey removed seven boxes from under the tree. She giggled. “There’s one for me, too. You’ll see why in a minute.”

Staring at the deep red, glossy wrapping paper and perfect white ribbon in awe, Trixie asked, “Honey, did you wrap this yourself?”

She winked. “That’s what boyfriends are for.”

Trixie turned to Brian in awe. “You did this? Mr. I Can Barely Write Neatly Enough for the Pharmacist to Fill My Prescriptions?”

Brian’s dark face was flushed. He shrugged uncomfortably, then gave up and grinned. “What can I say, Trix, it’s a gift!”

“Well, here goes!” Mart was the first to tear into the present, revealing a piece of soft cloth. He turned it over slowly, a smile of wonder crossing his face as he realized he was holding a miniature tweed jacket, the typical attire of a college professor. On the back, in precise stitches, were the letters BWG.

“Oh my goodness, Honey, this is beautiful!” Diana admired the tiny painter's smock she held. “How on earth did you find the time?”

Honey shrugged modestly. “I worked on them in the evenings while watching television. You really like them?”

“Of course we like them!” Dan leaned in, still holding a perfect replica of his black leather jacket, and gave Honey a kiss on the cheek. “How could we not? They’re perfect!”

Jim proudly displayed a dark grey suit jacket, while Brian held a white lab coat.

“Well, Trixie?” Jim questioned. “What do you think of yours?”

All eyes turned to Trixie and piece of white fabric she held.

Mart squinted. “A dress? No offense, Honey, but why would you give Trixie a dress?”

Honey smiled enigmatically. “That's not just any dress, is it, Trix?”

Trixie looked back to the dress with its Peter Pan collar, pleated skirt, and green trim. “No, this dress is very special. Thank you, Honey.” She smiled at Honey, but coloured and looked away when Jim attempted to catch her eye.

Dan frowned, trying unsuccessfully to place the dress. Before he could figure out what connection it held for Trixie, Jim was speaking.

“Well, I guess it’s my turn.” Jim smiled and headed for the only presents remaining under the tree. He handed one to each person, stopping to whisper to Trixie, “There’s more to your present.”

Recognizing the shape and feel of a box containing expensive jewellery, Diana tore off the wrapping paper and revealed a delicate gold bracelet with a bob-white charm. She immediately tried it on and admired it while the others opened their boxes.

“That’s amazing, Jim! Did you have them custom made?” Brian referred to the Bob White tie tack he held in his hand.

Jim nodded. “We have a relationship with a really good jeweller downtown. He was happy to do it.”

“These must be awfully expensive.” Trixie frowned. “I thought we weren’t supposed to spend so much money on gifts for each other.”

Jim shrugged. “Wheeler International had a good year. If I can’t spend money on my friends, who am I supposed to spend it on?” He stood and walked to Trixie’s side to fasten the bracelet for her. She studied it, not daring to look at him. “Maybe you’ll wear this one?” he murmured, and gently adjusted the bracelet.

“Jim, I...” Trixie tried to look him in the eye, but failed.

“It’s okay. Maybe we could talk sometime?” Jim smiled as she finally met his gaze.

“Sure, Jim.” She returned his smile, subconsciously stroking the new bracelet that felt so familiar.

The presents exchanged, the Bob Whites gave their full attention to the food. Mart rolled his eyes in ecstasy as he piled his plate high with fruit, veggies, dip, and fancy finger sandwiches. Trixie snorted as she passed him on her way to her seat.

“Don’t forget to leave room for dessert,” she warned. “I hear a certain someone made her trademark fudge.”

Mart looked up and cast a hopeful glance in Diana’s direction. “Ah, the succulent morsels of perfection. Even in my wildest dreams…”

Trixie rolled her eyes and kept moving, finally settling down on a chair set back from the table when she found Brian had taken her seat in order to be next to Honey. It wasn’t long before Jim brought a chair for himself and joined her. They sat in silence for a few moments, watching their friends.

“So, how...”

“I hear...”

They both laughed. “Ladies first,” Jim urged, resting his arm on the back of her chair.

Trixie's laugh was forced. “No, Jim, you go ahead.”

“I was just going to ask how your work is going. You seem to be pretty busy.”

Trixie nodded, fidgeting in her chair. “Lots of travelling and presentations. It's even less exciting than it sounds.” She sipped her drink and tried to think of a way to change the topic.

Jim laughed and leaned back in his chair. “Tell me about it. Sometimes I think I spend more time in airplanes and hotel rooms than at home.”

Trixie nodded in sympathy. “Not quite the career you had in mind when we were teenagers.”

“No, life hasn’t turned out quite the way I thought it would.” Jim abruptly set down his plate, and for a second Trixie was worried he would confront her about their past—right then and there. In desperation, she settled on a topic that was less sensitive, but only slightly.

“Bobby thinks the world of you, you know. You have no idea how excited he was when you made good on your promise of giving him an internship.”

Jim relaxed. “Bobby, Rob,” he corrected himself with a grin, “has really proven himself. The internship may have been a bit of a gift at first, but he pulls his weight at Wheeler International. I hope that he’ll consider a career with us when he graduates.”

Trixie snorted. “You won’t be able to tear him away. He’s always talking about how exciting the work is, and how much he enjoys it. Who would have thought little Bobby Belden would be interested in corporate business?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Jim reached over and tugged a curl. “Didn’t we decide his responsible nature, when it finally developed, was due to genetics and environment?”

“He’s turned out pretty well,” Trixie admitted.

“Kind of like his sister. You seem to be doing well for yourself.”

Trixie shrugged. “I enjoy working at Korecks.”

Jim hesitated while Trixie picked at her food. “I have to admit, I still can’t visualize you selling photocopiers.”

“Oh?” Trixie was suddenly very interested in the carrot stick she held.

Jim leaned back again, fascinated by his companion. “Why don’t you tell me about it? I’d like to know more about your job.”

His meaning was clear. He wanted to know more about Trixie.

Deflection, she decided. “Why? Is Wheeler International looking to upgrade?”

Jim's grin was meant to be disarming. “Maybe,” he teased, “but shouldn’t I know more about the company before making a decision?”

Trixie gave up. “My work at Korecks.” She spoke just loudly enough to catch Dan’s attention.

Dan sighed. I knew the topic would come up, but that doesn't mean I enjoy lying to my friends. Not only does it feel disloyal, it's likely to be messy. Keeping the cover story consistent is imperative. The fewer details, the better. Outwardly, he grinned easily and broke off his conversation with Mart to interject, “Hey, Trixie, I thought we said no shop talk during vacation!” He shook his head. “Are you breaking the rules already?”

Relieved by the moral support, Trixie smiled back. “Nah, Jim is just trying to use his influence with me to get a good deal on new systems for Wheeler International. Right, Jim?”

“What? No, I--”

Second choice, flirtation. “Of course,” she winked and angled her body to face him, leaning in slightly. “I happen to know that Wheeler International signed a contract with a certain,” she poked his chest slowly and deliberately, “competitor for the next three years.” She caught his eyes and held them, the heat between them growing. I should have gone with flirtation to begin with, she thought before reminding herself that she had to be careful.

“Recruiting a new client, Trix?” Dan smiled and turned a chair to face them. Reluctantly, Trixie moved back and released Jim’s eyes. Dan clasped Jim’s shoulder. “You may as well sign the contract now. You’ve never seen Trixie negotiate a deal. Sometimes...” he smiled at Trixie’s carefully schooled expression of irritation, hoping it really was a pretence, “sometimes I have to leave the room.” He turned an innocent gaze back to Jim. “It’s painful to see a grown man cry.”

Jim looked from Trixie to Dan, and back again. “You make men cry?”

Vowing to make Dan pay, Trixie protested, “It was only one time! And he was unstable to begin with! Did we get the contract, or didn’t we?”

“Of course we did. We always do.” Dan beamed. “That’s why we’re such a good team.”

Jim looked at them with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, feeling utterly excluded. “So how, exactly, does your partnership work? I thought most commission sales people worked alone.”

Dan shrugged. “We were both doing okay, but not great by ourselves. I know the products inside and out, but I have trouble closing deals. Trixie is great at reading the clients. You know, figuring out how serious they are, how much they’re willing to spend.”

“Unfortunately, I didn’t always match the right unit to each job.” She shook her head. “You would not believe how many different models Korecks makes.”

“They take their slogan of ‘The Perfect Machine for Any Job’ very seriously.”

Trixie rolled her eyes. “Yes, well, I know I’m a lot happier now that I don’t have to remember the difference between the K-109 and the T-120.”

“Not that you ever actually remembered the difference before,” Dan teased.

From across the room, Mart groaned. “Oh, Dan, no. Don’t tell me you were stuck trying to tutor Trixie.” He theatrically pulled his hair. “I still haven’t recovered from those English papers I proofread for her in high school.”

Trixie, Jim, and Dan looked up, surprised that their fellow Bob Whites had been following their conversation.

Diana smiled. “I don’t blame you one bit, Trixie.” She wrinkled her nose. “In fact, I don’t know how you do it at all. Don’t you get tired of talking to boring men in business suits all day and sleeping in strange hotel rooms?”

“Hey!” Jim protested mildly. “I happen to be a business man in a suit five days a week. What exactly are you saying?”

Diana's shrug was as elegant as she was, her amethyst earrings sparkling as she tossed her hair. “Feeling a little paranoid, Jim?” She grinned to make sure he knew she was teasing.

“Well, the job probably would be a lot more interesting if the purchasers were anything like Jim.” Trixie winked. “And as for the hotel rooms,” she continued, “after a while they all look the same, so it’s not really like sleeping in a new place every night.”

“And, of course, you’re not alone.” Brian joined the conversation a little stiffly, but good-naturedly. “You and Dan keep each other company, right?”

Trixie nodded, and desperately scrambled to find a new topic of conversation before the question of single or double occupancy hotel rooms could be raised. She was saved, inadvertently, by the clumsiness of her almost twin. Leaning back on the two hind legs of his chair, Mart twisted in an attempt to reach a plate of cookies beside him, and managed to topple backwards, spilling food everywhere. He lay stunned, staring at the ceiling through the legs of the overturned chair.

Eventually, the laughter abated to the degree that the others could begin to clear away the mess. Brian reached down and hauled his brother to his feet.

“Nicely done, Mart. Anything broken?”

Mart sadly surveyed the crumbs strewn across the floor. “The cookies. Every last one of them.”

Diana put her hand on his arm. Fighting back a smile, she comforted, “It’s okay, Mart. They’re in a better place.”

Jim grinned broadly as he dusted his hands over the wastebasket. “Yup.”

“Geez, Mart, the crumbs are all the way over here.” Trixie shook her head as she picked up debris under the window. She frowned as she caught a flash of light. Staring into the inky night, she tried to see past the reflections caught in the glass. The faint white glow appeared again. That’s strange, she thought. It’s coming from a tree. Trees don’t glow. Her eyes widened. But personal communication devices do.

At the same moment, Mart frowned as he tried to push the chair back to the table. He grunted and put more elbow into it, but only succeeded in toppling the chair for the second time.

Brian frowned. “What is it with you and chairs today, Mart?”

Mart glared at him while sinking to the floor. “It must have caught on a nail, or something.” He felt the floor cautiously, eager to avoid splinters. “That’s strange. Has anyone done any wiring in here lately?”

Brian bent down to take a closer look. “That’s not an electrical wire. It looks more like a fibre optic. We use them in surgery sometimes.” He frowned. “What would a fibre optic cable be doing in the clubhouse?”

Realization dawning, Trixie tried to silently communicate with Dan, but he was already across the room and flipping open his bag. He nodded shortly and gestured for her to make their excuses.

Before she could speak, however, the lights in the clubhouse went out, leading to a round of surprised exclamations from the group. They were silenced by the distinct sound of movement in a nearby tree. More specifically, they heard what sounded like a person half falling, half climbing down from the tree in a hurry.

“We aren’t expecting anyone, are we?” Diana's voice was thin and high-pitched with apprehension, and easily rose above the others.

Grateful that she knew the clubhouse like the back of her hand, Trixie quickly located the flashlights and distributed them. Concealing the weapons he carried, Dan spoke in the calm, authoritative voice to which people are compelled to listen. “Stay down. If anyone enters the cabin, shine the flashlights in their eyes. Lock the door behind us, and don’t open it unless you hear the Bob-White whistle.”

“Where are you going? What’s going on?” Jim asked, frantically trying to accustom his eyes to the darkness.

Trixie sighed. “There’s no time. Trust us.”

Before anyone could respond, Trixie threw the door open and she and Dan disappeared into the swirling snow.