Jane Morgan sighed in relief as she studied the cubic zirconia earring. "Oh, thank goodness you found it!" she exclaimed, clutching it as if worried that it would leap from her grasp. "I knew I had it at the party, but…" Her voice trailed off and she winked at Honey Wheeler and Diana Lynch. "Well, you know how it goes," she giggled.

Honey smiled serenely. "I'm glad it was still in this bower," she said, ignoring Jane's suggestive words and doing her best not to visualize what Jane had been doing when she'd lost the earring. Some things, she reflected, were better not left to the imagination.

Jane, however, had other ideas. "You know, I'm still not entirely sure who that masked man was," she said, her tone thoughtful. Gazing into the preserve, she said, "I thought it was Senator Frayne's son, but…" Her voice trailed off.

Diana raised an eyebrow. "You're not sure who you were with?" she questioned, her voice little more than a squeak. She didn't consider herself a prude, but she didn't think it was unreasonable to at least know who she was kissing!

Jane shrugged, unconcerned. "Nope." Grinning wickedly, she told them, "We didn't spend a lot of time on pleasantries, if you know what I mean." She paused. “Well, actually, all of it was pretty darn pleasant, so…” She grinned wickedly and poked the earring through one of her many piercings.

Honey blushed, knowing exactly what she meant. She knew that she ought to be ashamed of herself, but even though their relationship was new, there were times when Brian and she saw each other, and no words were necessary for long, wonderful, pleasurable periods of time. Still, she didn't think that she would ever fully understand Jane's cavalier approach to physical relations with the opposite sex. Or, actually, her cavalier approach to all people. It was almost as if the young woman had a hard, angry shell of protectiveness around her. She interacted with people, but didn't come anywhere near them emotionally.

Honey shivered.

"Well, I'm sure that Trixie will be relieved to hear that," Diana said, her violet eyes innocently wide.

"Hear what?" Jane questioned, carefully affixing the back of the earring and fluffing her hair.

"That Jim wasn't with you at that party, of course." Diana lowered her voice, causing Jane to lean toward her eagerly. "She won't admit it, but I think she has a crush on him."

Jane snorted. "Good luck with that. Those Frayne men are tough nuts to crack," she said, confirming Honey's suspicion that Jane had attempted to seduce both the senator and his son.

"Really?" Diana asked, her eyes wide. "Do you think so? I mean, Senator Frayne, sure. I can see why he'd be really picky about who he dates. He has to be, right? What with being in politics and all. But Jim?" She tilted her head to the side. "I wouldn’t think Trixie would have any trouble catching his attention if she wanted to."

Jane bristled at the challenge. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she said, "Well, we'll just see about that, won't we?" And without another word, she flounced away.

"Diana!" Honey hissed. "What was that?"

"Oh, cool your jets," she said, waving her hand. "I give Trixie less than five minutes before she's back here, trying to figure out what Jane's plotting."

"What?" Honey frowned. "I know we agreed to get Trixie interested in Jim, but—"

"Don't you see? Jane won't be able to resist telling Trixie what she thinks is going on. And Trixie won't be able to resist trying to figure out what's really going on! Because she'll never believe that you and I were talking about her liking Jim."

"Oh…" Honey breathed. "That's brilliant! Evil," she said, starting to smile, "but brilliant." Biting her bottom lip, she said, "You don't think Trixie is going to be mad at us, do you?"

Di shook her head. "Why would she be? She'll never believe Jane's story that we were talking about how she's in love with Jim. She'll be so focused on eavesdropping, and then so focused on Jim, what with her falling in love with him and all, that she won't have any room left to be upset with us."

"I hope you're right," Honey worried.

"Of course I'm right," Di said, linking her arm with Honey's. "And now we need to find a place where Trixie can be sure to overhear us."

Despite her misgivings, Honey grinned. "As long as this doesn't backfire," she said, "it's going to be the most fun we've had in a long time!"

Di fluffed her dark hair and grinned back at her. "It's going to be fun either way! Now, let's find a place close to the trees where Trixie will have enough cover to feel safe."

Resolved to the plan, Honey pointed to the perfect location and led the way. After all, if she could find happiness with Brian, shouldn't she do her part to help Trixie and Jim find happiness, too?

Manor House driveway…

Trixie walked up the driveway to the Manor House, enjoying the warm summer day. Di had been at the Manor House for a sleepover the previous night, but Mrs. Belden had asked Trixie to stay home and help get Crabapple Farm ready for more visits from Senator Frayne. Not that Crabapple Farm wasn't perfectly presentable on any day of the week. But apparently senatorship was akin to royalty, and Helen Belden couldn't rest easy unless she knew that her home was spotless.

When she finally moved out, Trixie thought to herself, she'd make sure that no one with any political aspirations darkened her doorstep. The cleaning simply wasn't worth it.

When she was almost all the way up the long, steep driveway, she was surprised to see a familiar figure in high heels and a short skirt come around the side of the house.

"Jane!" Trixie called. "I didn't expect to see you here." She bit her lip. That hadn't come out right, she realized. But then again, her words were often off when she was around the stylish, snobby girl. That was what happened when she didn't like a person, unfortunately.

Had Honey and Di invited Jane to the sleepover when she hadn't been able to come, she wondered? It sounded like something they might do. Not because they were miffed at Trixie, but because they wanted to include Jane.

It still made Trixie feel queasy.

Jane smiled, but Trixie thought she looked even more artificial than usual. There was something about the curve of her lips that suggested cruelty rather than reluctant friendliness.

"Honey and Di are out back, close to the grove of spruce trees." She started to brush past Trixie, but then stopped. "You know, if I'd realized you were so into Frayne, I would have backed off."

Trixie stared at her, open-mouthed. Interested in Frayne? What on earth… She couldn't mean Win, could she? She didn't think anyone had overheard their conversation. And she couldn't possibly mean Jim. No one could possibly suspect her of having feelings for Jim! It was ludicrous! Then again, this was Jane… The girl would say anything, do anything, to get a rise out of people. And she didn't necessarily restrict herself to the truth in order to accomplish it.

Her disbelief must have shown clearly on her face, because Jane twitched her hair over her shoulder and marched past her, sneering. "When I left them they were giggling about you throwing yourself at him."

Trixie's face flamed and she had to resist the urge to stick out her tongue at Jane's retreating figure. Honey and Di would never laugh at her; she knew that. And they would never imply that she was throwing herself at anyone. Even if she was. Which she wasn't. So what was Jane up to? Most likely trying to wedge the three friends apart for some nefarious purpose of her own.

Well. She certainly wasn't going to get away with that. Not if she had anything to say about it, at least. And she was Trixie Belden. She always had something to say.

Still, a direct approach wouldn't work with her best friends. She couldn't go in with both guns blazing. No, if she wanted to try to figure out what was really going on with Jane Morgan, she needed to find out Honey and Di were thinking. And she stood a better chance of figuring that out by listening to them talk to each other. Without them knowing that she was listening. Which technically was eavesdropping, but wasn't in this case because… because…

Whatever. It was eavesdropping. But it was for a good cause! Her conscience firmly tucked away to be dealt with at a later date, she set off in the direction of the spruce grove. Well before Honey and Di could spot her, however, she angled off and approached the grove from the most thickly treed section she could find.

"Yes, I think you're absolutely correct," she heard Honey say. "It is a shame that he's fallen in love with her."

Diana nodded, the gesture dripping with genuine sympathy. "I know, right? I mean, he's a pretty good guy. Smart, talented, kind…" She shook her head. "It just figures that he'd fall for someone who can't appreciate him."

"They always do, don't they?" Honey mused. "The good ones, that is." She paused. "Well, the good ones besides Brian."

Trixie breathed out a sigh of relief. They weren't even talking about her! Just some poor schlep who'd had the misfortune to fall in love with someone who didn't return his feelings. Why Honey and Di were so concerned about it mystified her. People making terrible dating choices happened every day, after all!

But Honey was probably in matchmaker mode, seeing as how she and Brian were so sickeningly happy together. And Di figured if she couldn't be happy, mostly because Mart was too bone-headed to pick up on the fact that she was in love with him, then at least other people should be happy.

Her friends really did have her best interests at heart, Trixie thought fondly, no matter what tripe Jane was attempting to sell. In fact, Jane wasn't all that smart. Probably she had misinterpreted—

"And I think it's such a shame that we can't even tell her about it," Honey mourned. "Or can we? We should. Shouldn't we?"

"You know we can't," Di retorted impatiently. Apparently they'd already covered this ground in an earlier conversation.

"I know," Honey agreed. "It just feels wrong. I don't like keeping secrets from Trixie."

Trixie's eyes grew wide and she tripped over her own feet, stopping herself from falling by catching herself on the rough bark of a spruce tree. She winced at the pain, but kept her eyes trained on her friends. She'd worry about the cuts and scrapes later.

When she was finished reading her friends the riot act for even considering keeping secrets from her. What were they thinking? They had to know that would never fly. Keeping secrets around Trixie Belden? Total rookie mistake. And her friends were anything but rookies. So if they were attempting to keep a secret from her, even though they knew better…

Then it had to be a really good secret.

She rubbed her hands together in anticipation, wincing again when her recent cuts and scrapes protested.

"I really hate keeping secrets from Trixie," Honey sighed. "But…"

"You know why we can't tell her. You know exactly how she would react." Di jerked her hand in frustration. "I want to tell her, too! But you know exactly how that conversation would go."

Honey nodded. "Trixie would laugh herself silly," she admitted.

"And that's not even the real problem. The worst part is that she wouldn't be able to resist teasing Jim about liking her."

Trixie flushed. That wasn't true! She wouldn't dream of making fun of someone who— She winced. Yes. Yes, she would probably mock Jim mercilessly. But he would deserve it! Because he couldn't possibly have feelings for her! It was utterly ridiculous! He mocked her at every opportunity! Treated her as if she was a naïve little girl who couldn't function without his help! As if! He was just a blow-hard typical male who thought he knew more than everyone else because he had the elusive y chromosome!

"No," Honey said. "The worst part is that Jim is so miserable about the whole thing."

Di nodded soberly, and Trixie was taken aback by her serious demeanour. Water off a duck's back. That's how she would describe how Diana related to most problems thrown her way. After a tumultuous angst-filled youth of feeling everything a little too deeply, Di had found a balance that worked for her. It was rare for her to invest the amount of emotion she was currently displaying.

Which meant that she was serious. Really serious.

Trixie frowned at the implication. Honey and Di felt more loyalty to Jim than to her?

That couldn't be right.

It just couldn't!

In what world did that make sense? What was it about Jim Frayne that brought out Honey and Di's protective streaks? They were normally excellent judges of character. A little too forgiving, sometimes, but Trixie had benefited from that forgiveness too many times to dismiss it as an undesirable trait. In general, though, their loyalty was stronger than their common sense, as Trixie knew from the numerous times they had stood by her even when she hadn't really deserved it. For them to feel more protective of Jim than of her…

Well, she grudgingly admitted to herself, Jim was a decent guy. He might be insufferably bossy, but he was usually right. And he might think that he knew how to do things better than anyone else, but he wasn't scared of actually doing the hard work. For someone who had grown up with wealth, that was worth mentioning.

And, she added even more grudgingly, he wasn't hard on the eyes. It wasn't as if she went for that polished son-of-a-senator look, but some women did. Lots of women, from what she could gather. And it wasn't as if he was picture perfect all the time. She'd seen him after he'd been camping in the preserve for a few days, and… She swallowed hard, remembering the growth of reddish-gold on his chin. He was the type of man who made plaid flannel look good, she realized, her eyes widening with horror.

But she wasn't attracted to him. No, that was ridiculous. Just because the man looked good when roughing it, and when not roughing it, and when he was dressed to the nines for a formal function was no reason to—

"And do you know what he told Brian?" Honey asked, interrupting Trixie's rapidly escalating panic. "He doesn't want Trixie to know about his feelings. Ever! He thinks she's too soft-hearted to say no to him!"

Di snorted indelicately. "I thought he knew her better than that."

Hidden in the grove of spruce, Trixie nodded in agreement. She thought Jim knew her better than that, too. What on earth made him think that she would have dated him? She didn't even like him!

"I don't know," Honey said thoughtfully. "Jim says Trixie has a softer heart than any of us realize."

Trixie snorted so hard that she clapped her hands over her face in dismay, certain that her friends would hear her and discover her presence. She thought she saw Honey flinch at the sound, but neither girl so much as glanced in her direction.

Which was a little odd, she thought with a frown. Both Honey and Di were highly observant. Either they were really preoccupied with their conversation, or—

"I just wish that we could do something to fix the situation," Honey sighed, and Trixie realized that Honey, at least, was honestly distracted. So distracted that even from this distance she could almost see the tears welling in her hazel eyes. "Trixie could do a lot worse than to date someone like Jim. Even if she's not in love with him, it would be good for her to date someone who would treat her right and show her how wonderful a healthy relationship can be. But I can't suggest it because it wouldn't be fair to Jim!"

Di placed her arm around Honey's shoulders and squeezed gently. "They'll figure it out," she consoled, but Trixie could hear the doubt in her voice even as they turned away from her and headed back toward the Manor House.

Which made a lot of sense, considering the amount of doubt Trixie was currently experiencing.

Doubt that Jim could actually feel the way Honey and Di seemed to think he did.

Doubt that there was an easy solution to the situation.

And, worst of all, doubt that she understood her own feelings as well as she'd thought she had only a half hour earlier.

Crabapple Farm yard…

"Was it just me," Peter said, "or was that one of the most awkward meals ever?"

Matthew snorted. "Do you mean the part where I had to ignore the fact that your son was playing footsie with my daughter, or the part where my daughter couldn't even carry on a conversation because she was too busy staring into Brian's eyes?"

Brian flushed. "Oh, come on. We weren't that bad," he protested. "Were we?" he asked hesitantly, though he had difficulty meeting Honey's father's eyes.

Jim rolled his eyes and started walking a little faster. Though he hadn't eaten as much as the others, he'd opted to accompany them as they went on a tour of the area to work off the substantial lunch they'd consumed. He didn't need to work off any excess calories, but he did need to work a certain blonde out of his thoughts, and a walk was as a good of an opportunity as he could think of. Especially since Trixie had been acting strangely during the meal, too… He hadn't quite believed the conversation he'd overheard that had implied Trixie liked him, but the way she'd blushed and avoided looking or talking to him… Well. He was on the walk to avoid thinking about that.

"Are you kidding me?" Jim teased, hoping that his voice sounded normal. Or whatever passed for normal these days. "I thought it was sweet when Brian put ketchup on his salad."

Brian winced. "I thought it was Russian dressing."

"In a Heinz bottle?" Peter asked, amused.

"Since when does Moms buy ketchup?" Brian demanded. "She always makes her own!"

"Since Bobby ate us out of our supply last month when he went through his homemade macaroni and cheese with ketchup phase," Peter informed him wryly. "We won't have homemade ketchup again until fall."

"Brat," Brian muttered, though his tone was laced with affection.

"He sure is," Peter agreed cheerfully. "But at least he's not a lovesick brat."

Brian winced. He'd really hoped that he hadn't been that obvious, but apparently he'd failed. Epically. Especially if his father was willing to tease him in front of Honey's father. He and Honey must have been way more obvious than he'd thought.

And what, exactly, was wrong with that? Nothing. Nothing at all! He and Honey were in love, and he really didn't care who knew. In fact, he wanted everyone to know! Why shouldn't they? Their love was nothing to be ashamed of, after all!

"Nothing wrong with being lovesick," Brian proclaimed, meeting Matthew Wheeler's eyes and smiling. "Not when you've found the one."

Brian couldn't be sure, but he thought Matthew's expression had changed from amused to… resigned? Whatever it was, Brian let out a small sigh of relief. Honey wouldn't be happy unless her father approved of their relationship, and, truth be told, he wanted Matthew's approval, too.

Inadvertently, his glaze flicked to Win. He knew he didn't need his employer's approval, but over the years he'd come to respect the man. Which was odd, considering that he was a politician, and Brian had an intrinsic mistrust of anyone who required public approval to keep their job. But dealing with the man on a regular basis had shown him that he was a good person, and even a decent politician.

But Win looked mostly amused, his expression open and easy. No condemnation there.

His own father, of course, didn't have to say a word. Peter's nod of approval had been all Brian needed to know that he was supportive of his relationship with Honey.

No, he told himself, there was no reason to be embarrassed by his burgeoning relationship with the sweetest girl in the world. They were happy, and there was no reason that the whole world shouldn't know it!

"And there he goes again," Win sighed. "Earth to Brian! Come in, Dr. Belden!"

Brian blinked. "What?" he asked, his gaze darting between the men ranged around him.

"I was just saying that I think I see someone on the other side of the house. Are you having some work done, Matthew?"

The tall redhead shielded his eyes and looked in the direction Win had indicated. "Not on that side of the house," he mused. "I wonder… Is that…?"

Win pressed his lips together in a tight line. "Yes." Without another word, he strode toward the stranger, leaving the others to exchange frowns before following him.

"I think it's Jonesy," Matthew explained, and the other men nodded in understanding. Tabloids and reputable news sources alike had milked the story of the wildly different half-brothers when Jonesy had been incarcerated a decade earlier. His release earlier this year hadn't garnered the same amount of media attention, but Win's friends in Sleepyside were certainly familiar with the tight leash that Win attempted to keep on his recently released half-brother.

"I thought he was staying in town at the Glen Road Inn," Peter mused.

"He was," Brian confirmed. "I'm not sure why he's out here. He's supposed to show up for the formal events like the party the Wheeler's held, but other than that…" He shook his head. "I would imagine he'd want to stay as far as possible from Win."

Peter nodded. "No love lost there."

Jim, who had been uncharacteristically silent, bit back a curse.

"What is it?" Brian asked.

Jim, his eyes trained on the conversation that appeared to be occurring between the half-brothers, shook his head. "Jonesy is up to something."

"How can you tell?" Brian asked, though he already agreed with Jim's assessment. There was no love lost between Brian and Jonesy, either. Not since Win had insisted that Brian take over his medical care. Jonesy didn't want anyone exerting control over his life in any way, and Brian suspected that his medical advice had been interpreted as interference. And there was no place for interference in Jonesy's life.

Jim shook his head. "Look at Dad."

Winthrop Frayne's ruddy complexion was redder than usual, marking a spike in his temper. As a politician, he'd curbed his natural tendency to fly off the handle. Especially in regards to his brother. For him to allow himself to become upset meant that Jonesy had indeed found the right button to push.

"Is it just me, or are they looking at me?" Brian questioned, squinting.

"They could be looking at any one of us," Peter gently chided, but there was no conviction behind his words. Win and Jonesy did appear to be focusing their attention on Brian.

Brian hesitated, his foot in mid-air, torn between hurrying toward the two men and turning and walking the other way. Jonesy was trouble, plain and simple. Still, it wasn't as if the man had any power over him. Jonesy couldn't jeopardize his standing with Win. Other than that, what could the man do to him?

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

His resolve strengthened, he met the challenge head on.

"Good to see you," he said to Jonesy, extending his hand.

Jonesy's hesitation to return the gesture was only minimal, causing warning bells to sound in Brian's ear. The man was definitely up to something if he was willing to engage in social nice-ities that involved physical contact.

Win frowned, looking over Brian's shoulder to where Peter, Matthew, and Jim still approached. "Jonesy wanted to speak to us," he said. "In private."

Brian frowned and glanced over his shoulder. What could Jonesy possibly want to talk about that the others shouldn't hear?

"Doesn't matter to me," Jonesy protested, holding up both hands. "I just thought you might not want word getting out this way."

"Word about what?" Brian asked warily. When Jonesy hesitated, Brian narrowed his eyes. "Just spit it out, Jonesy." He couldn't imagine what the miserable excuse of a man thought he needed to tell him, but he certainly wasn't going to stand around waiting for him to come to the point.

Jonesy hesitated, watching the group of men approach. "You're seeing the Wheeler girl, aren't you?"

After a slight pause, Brian nodded. It wasn't exactly a secret. And it certainly wasn't something he was ashamed of.

"Well, you're not the only one she's seeing."

Brian blinked as he waited for the words to make sense.

Jonesy leaned closer. "She's stepping out on you."

This time he understood what the words meant, but it still didn't make sense.

"Geez. She's cheating on you, Belden."

"No." The word was crisp and definitive. An absolute reflection of the faith he had in Honey.

"Always knew you were an idiot," Jonesy grumbled. "Don't believe me? Fine. Meet me tonight. By the spruce grove."

Brian started to shake his head, but Jonesy cut him off. "Prove me wrong, then. Tonight. Midnight."

"What's going on here?" Matthew asked, catching up to them. But Jonesy only smiled and stalked off toward town with his stoop-shouldered gait.

Brian's recent euphoria dwindled to a ball of dread lodged firmly in his gut and he found that he couldn't meet Matthew's eyes. Or anyone's eyes, for that matter.

"I have to… I have to go," he blurted in a very un-Brian-like fashion, and took one unsteady step, and then two, before breaking into a near run. What Jonesy had said couldn't be true. It couldn't. But he knew that he'd be in the spruce grove at midnight anyway.

To prove Jonesy wrong, of course.

Wheeler House veranda…

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Jane giggled, tugging at the tall, dark-haired man's shirt.

"Talk you into it?" Dan questioned, arching one brow and working his hand under her spandex tank top. "I thought this was your idea." His voice was low, seductive, and teasing all at the same time, and if he didn't feel quite so dirty, he would have congratulated himself on his acting skills. As it was, he was just grateful that everything was coming together as planned. Keeping in Jonesy's good books wasn't all that difficult, but the stoop-shouldered man required periodic reminders that Dan was a better ally than enemy. Helping Jonesy exact a little revenge on Frayne and the doctor would do the trick for a good while.

Even if he didn't like what he had to do.

And who he had to hurt.

Giggling, Jane pushed him onto a wicker love seat and straddled him. "You tell yourself whatever you need to," she said, and kissed him with plenty of tongue.

Well. At least he knew that this charade wasn't hurting Jane in the slightest. It had required almost no persuasion on his part to convince her to sneak into the Wheelers' house and use it as their personal playground. And she certainly wasn't shy about letting him know what she wanted, he thought, steeling himself to keep from flinching as she rubbed the front of his jeans.

"Come over by the window," he urged, shifting out of her reach even as he pressed kisses along her perfume-drenched neck.

"The window?" she pouted. "But we're so comfortable here!"

Dan leaned in close and whispered in her ear. "More exciting by the window," he promised. "The cool air, the possibility of someone seeing us…" He nipped at her ear, and she melted.

"Okay," she breathed, and allowed Dan to pull her to the screened in window. It wasn't so much a screened in window as a screened in wall, and Dan couldn't be happier with both the visual and audio benefits it offered. The Wheelers made a practice of leaving the kitchen light on all night, so he knew that their silhouettes would show clearly to anyone who happened to be watching from the outside. Say, from perhaps the spruce grove. And the night air picked up their voices easily, carrying their conversation well into the darkened night. All the way to the grove where Dan sincerely hoped that Brian hid.

He stepped up his seduction, pulling Jane tight against his body and grinding against her, both in an attempt to give his audience a good show and to stimulate his body so that he could proceed with the plan. When he'd come up with the idea, he'd assumed that this would be the easy part. Instead, he was troubled by the idea that he was actively working toward destroying the happiness of a girl he couldn't see as anything other than sweet. And he was using another girl to do it. He didn't so much care about Frayne or Belden. They were big boys who could handle themselves. Using Jane and Honey as pawns didn't sit right, but he wasn't sure how else he could proceed.

And Jane could certainly handle herself, he reminded himself. Or, rather, she could handle him. With considerable skill. His earlier lack of response rapidly changed in the light of her determined, practiced hands. And tongue.

And was she… pierced?

"Oh, honey," he groaned. "Do that again."

"You like that?" she teased, and repeated her actions.

"Honey!" he exclaimed, his voice louder. Loud enough now to travel as far as he needed it to. "Yeah. Just like that."

He couldn't hear much aside from the dull roar of blood pounding through his head, but he could almost swear he heard a heart breaking in the spruce grove.

Or maybe it was just the sound of his own soul dying, one kiss at a time.

Dan pulled up his jeans and shoved his shirt under the waist band, fastening his belt with steady hands. "That was great, honey," he said, but didn't bother looking at the girl as he spoke. They both knew that his words didn't mean a thing. He was only saying them for the benefit of the men hiding the trees. Assuming that they were still there, of course. If he had been the one watching his supposed girlfriend with another man, he knew he wouldn't have stuck around. Still, Brian Belden was cut from different cloth than him.

He hadn't nearly the experience Dan had with people betraying him.

"Yeah, whatever," Jane said, not bothering with a bra before shoving her breasts back into her tank top. Smirking, she turned on her heel, making sure her backside jiggled just the right amount. "Give me a call if you ever want to break into a house to fool around again."

"We didn't break in," Dan countered, gesturing to the veranda. It was part of the house, but not really, seeing as how the flimsy screen door hadn't even been locked.

And Wheeler paid for someone to provide security for his place? Unbelievable.

"Trespassing," she said with a shrug. "Whatever. Call me."

Dan nodded, even though he had no intention of contacting the girl again. She was a sure thing, but there was something… not right about someone who was comfortable using their friend's house to mess around.

Not that he had any grounds to criticize anyone else for their questionable decisions. Still, he wouldn't be calling her. Without looking back, he slipped through the screen door, making sure it didn't bang closed behind him. Getting away clean was part of the plan, and he wasn't about to blow it by letting his guard down now.

He only hoped that Jane was half as smart as he was.

He was almost to Glen Road when he heard the tell-tale tread of a person stumbling through the preserve. A person stumbling through the preserve attempting to be stealthy, and failing miserably. When Luke emerged, cursing and swatting at branches, Dan wasn't surprised.

He was angry.

"What are you doing?" he hissed, grabbing the other man by the scruff of his jacket and pushing him against a tree. It wasn't a particularly smart move, not when he was trying to get off Wheeler land undetected, but he needed to know what the other man was up to.

And he needed to keep him quiet.

"Just out for a walk," Luke sneered, attempting to look unconcerned even as Dan's grip on his collar tightened. "You?"

"Yeah," Dan agreed. "A walk. I had the same idea," he said, and the two men eyed each other. It was possible, Dan realized, that Luke was doing the same thing he was. No, not shagging Jane Morgan for a carefully selected audience. Luke was most likely planning something to solidify his standing with Jonesy.

And the only thing Luke had any skill in planning was robberies.

"You want to hit the place together?" Luke asked, relaxing.

Dan loosened his grip. "Maybe," he hedged. It wouldn't do to agree too quickly. No, right now the only thing that needed to happen quickly was to get the heck out of dodge before everything came crashing down around them.

"We can talk about it back at the room," he said, and turned back to Glen Road. Once they were on the street they'd be in the clear. Clear of any security guards that Wheeler had hired to keep Jonesy out of his property. The security was a joke, of course, but everyone got lucky once in a while, and Dan didn't intend to be anyone's luck of the night.

Luke followed, just as Dan had known he would. Only Dan hadn't counted on him following quite so loudly. Luke had grown up on the streets of New York, just like him. How was it possible he'd survived to adulthood without mastering the ability to walk without banging into everything in his path?

"Quiet," Dan hissed, but it was too late. The familiar sight of red and blue oscillating lights blinded them, and the gig was up.

"Hands up," an excited voice ordered. "I'm Sergeant Belden, and you're under arrest.

Dan groaned and put both his hands in the air. Well, he hadn't made it off the property unscathed. But it was unlikely that Belden would piece together what he'd actually been doing. The worst he could be charged with was trespassing, and that was the least of his concerns. No, his plan had been put into action. He might have to sit in a jail cell overnight, but he'd still get to see how everything played out.

And Jonesy wouldn't be able to argue with his loyalty.

And Dan wouldn't be able to argue with his conscience.

Honey Wheeler's bedroom…

"I don't know," Honey Wheeler mused, holding one dress in front of her, and then switching it for another.

"Not again," Trixie moaned, and flung herself onto Honey's bed, one arm covering her eyes. "Honey! You could wear a gunny sack and Brian would drool all over it!"

Honey giggled at the image but didn't dispute the claim. "He's perfect, isn't he?" she asked dreamily, still clutching a dress to her chest.

Trixie didn't bother to reply. Her brother was most certainly not perfect, but there was no telling that to Honey. No, she was smitten. Or smote. Smoten? Whatever. Something awful, in any case.

But, then again, so was she.

Not that she was mooning around like Honey. No. That wasn't her style. She was sticking to her guns and maintaining the teasing, mocking demeanour that Honey and Di had been so upset about.

Even if it felt more like a mask than her actual attitude.

But that wasn't the point right now. Right now, the point was that Honey was getting ready for her date with Brian. Some charity something or other in the city. Trixie was just relieved that she hadn't been roped into going, too.

Probably because Trixie had no hope of finding someone to go with her. Most of the men in Sleepyside knew to give her a wide berth, if not because of her attitude, then because of her brothers.

But that wasn't the point, she reminded herself sternly.

"The blue one," Trixie said without taking her arm off her face.

There was a moment of silence.

"You're guessing," Honey accused, but she sounded more amused than irritated. "You don't even know the colours of the two dresses I'm deciding between."

"Well, one was blue, obviously," Trixie said, counting on confidence to carry her through. "And the other one was white."

She moved her arm and opened her eyes, grinning when she saw the disgruntled look on her best friend's face.

"Lucky guess," Honey accused, and revealed the two dresses she'd concealed behind her back.

Shrugging, Trixie laced her hands underneath her head and grinned. "Educated guess. There's a difference."

"Oh, really," Honey scoffed. "How so?"

"Easy," Trixie said, her tone breezy. "Brian's favourite colour is blue. And as for the white…" Her eyes twinkled. "I'm not going to touch that Freudian choice with a ten-foot pole."

Honey's eyes widened in shock. "Trixie Belden! You don't mean to say—"

"That you're head over heels in love with my brother and, even if you don't realize it, you've got marriage, or at least commitment, on the brain? Actually, yes. I do mean to say it." Trixie's grin widened at Honey's outrage, and then nearly fell off the bed laughing when Honey thrust the white dress back into the closet as if it were burning her hands.

"Oh, relax," Trixie chided. "I'm just teasing. The white dress is gorgeous."

"Yes, it is," Di agreed as she entered the room, Jane Morgan close on her heels.

"You can't go wrong with white," Jane agreed. "Not with your hair and complexion. And personality." She frowned. "How do you pull off that innocent vibe?" she wondered aloud. "I mean, you can't possibly be as naïve and inexperienced as you come off."

Honey flushed and turned back to the closet while Di gave Jane a pointed jab in the ribs.

"What?" Jane protested. "What? What's the big deal? You can't tell me that Honey is really as innocent as—"

"Okay!" Honey said brightly. "Dresses! We're looking at dresses."

"The blue dress and the white dress," Trixie elaborated helpfully.

Di narrowed her eyes in Trixie's direction. "And you're here… why?"

"Because I'm a good friend?" Trixie suggested.

"No," Honey said flatly. "That's not it."

"Oh, come on! I only said that you and Brian are all committed and happy! What's so terrible about that?"

All three women stopped to stare at Trixie.

"What?" the curly blonde asked, picking at imaginary lint on the bedspread.

"You pointed that out?" Di asked. "Without gagging? And what were you doing even thinking about commitment? That doesn't sound like you at all!"

"I didn't think she even knew what the word meant," Jane snickered.

"Oh, that's rich coming from you," Trixie retorted, her good humour gone. She sat up, sending decorative pillows tumbling to the floor.

Jane took a step toward her, dark eyes flashing with anger. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you wouldn't recognize commitment if it wrestled you to the ground and forced an engagement ring on your finger," Di teased, defusing the situation. "And that's the way you like it."

Jane tossed her hair and gave Trixie one last narrow-eyed glare before turning away. "That's true," she admitted, and grinned. "Why would I want to commit?" she asked, grimacing as if the word left a bad taste in her mouth. "It's like choosing one flavour of ice cream for the rest of your life."

"No, it isn't," Honey said, holding the two dresses close to her heart. "It's like finding a flavour of ice cream so amazing that you never get tired of it."

"Now I'm hungry," Trixie muttered, and tried to leave the room.

"Oh, stay," Di urged, linking her arm through Trixie's and drawing her back into the room. "We won't try to give you a makeover. I promise. Scout's honour." She attempted a Boy Scout salute.

"Was that a gang sign?" Jane asked. "Did you just tell Trixie to—"

"You're all impossible," Honey groaned. "And I'm wearing the white dress."

"Because you want Brian to picture you as a bride?" Jane tilted her head to the side. "Devious. Manipulative. I like it."

"No!" Honey exclaimed. "I'm not trying to get Brian to marry me! I just want…"

One of her arms still linked through Trixie's, Di used her other arm to squeeze Honey's shoulders. "You just want him to see you as a beautiful, desirable woman. There's nothing wrong with that."

"A beautiful, desirable woman who's wearing white and making him think about wedding nights," Jane nodded. "Genius! He'll treat you like a princess all evening and spend the night seducing you. Definitely go with the white."

Honey's jaw separated as she stared at her friends.

"I'm serious!" Jane proclaimed. "He'll treat you like a princess. Goddess. Whatever. Something good!"

Recovering herself, Honey planted her hands on her hips. "He does that no matter what I wear."

"Ooh!" Jane plunked down on the bed beside Trixie, who reluctantly shared an inch or two of space. "Do tell! I always thought Brian would be sensational in the bedroom. Is he gentle, or does he get really intense? I bet he gets really intense."

Trixie made a strangled, garbled sound, flipped onto her stomach, and covered her head with a pillow. "I am not hearing this. I am not hearing this. I am not hearing this!" she repeated, her voice rising and taking on a sing-song quality.

"Oh, pshaw. Just imagine we're talking about someone who isn't your brother," Di advised.

"You don't have any brothers!" Trixie protested. "You don't know what it's like to picture them—" She stopped abruptly, choking down gorge.

"Yes, but you wouldn't have any problem picturing the handsome Jim Frayne, would you?" Jane inquired slyly, pretending to inspect her nails.

Despite her best intention to play it cool, Trixie could feel a tell-tale flush creep up her neck. Grateful for the fact that she was already hiding her face in the pillows, she protested, "I am not picturing Frayne—"

"Speak of the devil!" a cheerful voice called from the doorway.

Trixie froze, her eyes round as saucers. It didn't sound like Jim's voice, not exactly, but wouldn't it just be her luck for him to overhead the entire humiliating conversation?

"Senator Frayne!" Jane exclaimed. Her mocking demeanor vanished and she practically simpered at the older man, giving Trixie the courage to lift her head from the pile of pillows so that she could glower at the girl.

"I happen to have extra tickets for the fundraiser gala," Winthrop said, stepping into the room and waving a fan of square invitations. Even from a distance Trixie could tell that the invitations were printed on fancy papers and spoke of an event far too classy for her liking.

"I'd consider it a favour," he went on. "Jim enjoys these events about as much as he enjoys a good shopping trip to the mall." His charming grin had every girl in the room smiling back at him, though Trixie's expression leaned more toward a nod of commiseration and agreement with Jim's position. "I might be able to convince him to stay for more than a half hour if he has friends there."

He handed tickets to both Di and Trixie, but Jane waved him aside when he approached her. "I appreciate the invitation," she said, "but I have plans for tonight."

"Plans that are worth giving up a gala benefit?" Di questioned. "Really?"

"Let's just say that they involve tracking down a mysterious man in black," Jane teased, and waggled her eyebrows."

"Well," Win smiled, placing the remaining ticket in the breast pocket of his dress shirt, "I certainly can't compete with that."

Jane flashed a predatory smile and slid past him on her way out of the room, making sure that her body brushed against his. "Oh, I wouldn't say that," she called back as she strutted down the hall. "But I have to go where my chances of succeeding are the highest."

Win stared after her a moment, and then shook his head. "Is she always like that?" he asked, bewildered.

"Yes!" the three girls chorused, and then dissolved into giggles.

"I know when it's time to make a strategic retreat," Win said, and backed out of the room. "See you at the gala, ladies."

"Thank you, Mr Frayne!" Honey called after him. He waved his hand in acknowledgement and continued down the hall.

"I wonder how he got tickets at the last minute," Di said, studying the cream invitation. "It's been sold out for weeks. Mom couldn't get tickets, and she knows half of the people on the committee!"

"Then I guess I have to go?" Trixie said, staring at the invitation with an expression akin to horror.

"Of course you have to go!" Honey said. "It was very generous of Senator Frayne to give you these tickets, you know."

"Very cruel, you mean," Trixie muttered, thinking of the time she'd be forced to spend with Jim. Time when he'd be dressed in a perfectly fitting tuxedo. A wave of panic washed over her and she sank back to the bed. "I can't do it!" she decided. "I won't. No one will miss me. It'll be fine. I think there's an X-Men marathon on TV."

"Beatrix Belden," Honey snapped. "Getting dressed up for one evening is not the end of the world! I have a perfectly darling dress that will fit you and Di can do your hair in a simple style that won't require more than ten bobby pins. You will go to the gala and you will do it without being miserable!"

"And that's an order!" Di chimed in, standing beside Honey. "Now come on. We have work to do."

Work which would probably involve an eyelash curler, Trixie knew. With a heavy sigh, she allowed the two girls to pull her to the closet and resigned herself to the fate of being made beautiful.

Sleepyside Train Station…

Matthew Wheeler shifted his briefcase from his right hand to his left and tugged at the knot of his tie. Tom had texted him to say that he was running a few minutes late, but Matthew had still hoped that the chauffeur would be on time to pick him up. It had been a long day and though he didn't object to waiting in principle, it was a nuisance when all he really wanted was to head back to the Manor House and relax with glass of scotch before dressing for the gala and returning to the city. He ought to have just stayed in New York, he admitted to himself. But over twenty years of marriage hadn't dulled the simple privilege of observing his wife dress for an event. They didn't necessarily speak or even touch as Madeleine donned her stockings and put the finishing touches on her makeup, but it somehow remained one of the most intimate experiences they shared.

And if it meant that he took the train from the city, spent forty-five minutes at his home, and then turned around and accompanied his wife in the limousine back to the city, well, it was a price he was willing to pay. She might even wear the stockings with the black line up the back. And probably the black heels that added an extra three inches to her height and did something amazing when paired with the stockings. If he was really lucky she'd wear something from her last shopping trip to La Perla. He'd seen black lace in the bag tucked in the back of her closet and—

"Sir?"

Matthew blinked and attempted to clear the haze from his mind.

"Sir!" Sergeant Mart Belden hurried toward him, nearly tripping over his highly polished black shoes.

Matthew closed his eyes and counted to ten. The second-born Belden was highly intelligent and an asset to the Sleepyside Police force, but trying to communicate with him was like… was like… He couldn't even think of a reasonable analogy. Probably because Mart Belden was in a class completely his own.

"Sir," Mart panted, reaching him after clipping a young male professional who scowled who proceeded to scowl at him.

"Yes? What can I do for you, Sergeant Belden?"

"Ah, but it is I who can you help." He paused as if trying to figure out where he'd gone wrong. When that didn't help he tilted his head to one side.

Matthew pressed his lips together in an attempt to hide a smile. Mart Belden was a highly intelligent young man and an excellent addition to the Sleepyside police force, but his public speaking skills were very nearly as atrocious as his written communications. It was almost as if there were too many words in his brain and they scrambled together whenever he tried to get them out. His earnest demeanour and high rate of success in solving Sleepyside's crime more than made up for his communication shortcomings, however.

And provided some first-class entertainment.

It was lucky that Mart had inherited the pragmatic Belden genes that allowed him to laugh at himself, or the situation might have been different. As it was, he enjoyed his vocabulary mishaps almost as much as everyone around him did.

But this wasn't the time to play word games. Out of the corner of his eye, Matthew caught sight of Tom Delanoy hurrying toward them, his hat askew and his jacket rumpled.

"Another time," he called over his shoulder as he hurried to meet the chauffeur.

"But I bereave you'll find it of the upmost impotence," Mart protested. "It's a matter of most pressing familiar nature!" He paused. "Familial! A familial nature!"

Matthew waved his hand, his determined stride carrying him quickly away from the earnest young man. If it were truly important, Mart would contact him in an official capacity. Until then, there was a beautiful woman waiting for him at home. A beautiful woman who might require his assistance. In a thoroughly official capacity of his own.