This story takes place immediately after “The Tangled Web”. If you’re curious what happened in that story, don’t worry because Trixie will catch you up. J

Fault. A planar fracture or discontinuity in a volume of rock, across which there has been significant displacement.

Trixie didn’t know why, but she’d always had a fear of earthquakes. Ever since Dolores and Lupe Perez had told the Bob-Whites about the earthquake that had partially destroyed their village years ago, Trixie had had nightmares of experiencing a seismic event firsthand. Now, hours after she’d stood over Amanda Woodward’s dead body, she was sure that she felt the ground shaking beneath her. It was true that Sleepyside wasn’t located near any major fault line. However, for some inexplicable reason, Trixie felt like she was walking atop a thin layer of the earth’s crust, and at any moment the ground could open up and swallow her alive. If she closed her eyes, she almost could feel the rumbling in the distance. Her instincts told her that there were more tremors to come, and the aftershocks could surpass the damage done by the initial quake.

When she had woken up that morning, Trixie never would’ve imagined her day would progress as it had. She’d planned for an ordinary day: an appointment with her wedding planner at 8:30, lunch back in Sleepyside with Jim, and finally working at the agency for the rest of the afternoon. In her wildest dreams, she never would’ve dreamed she’d be looking over Amanda Woodward’s bullet-ridden corpse.

Okay, so maybe I imagined Amanda dead a couple of times, but it was only while she was engaged to Jim, she admitted to herself. And it’s not like I wanted her to be gunned down in the streets of Manhattan. I had a much more civilized demise planned for her, like having her die from food poisoning or something. Not once did I want her to take a bullet in the head…

Trixie took another sip of her coffee. She had hoped the extra shot of caffeine would chase away her headache, but so far, it hadn’t helped. At this point, she was pretty sure that she could down a whole bottle of Excedrin Migraine and her temples would continue to throb just as badly.

Expelling a lengthy breath, she focused her gaze downward to her computer screen. If the information had been written in Greek, it wouldn’t have made any less sense to her. Her brain was too fixated on Jim to process much of anything else.

Thankfully, her phone buzzed, providing the perfect distraction from her work. Assuming it was another update on Jim from Honey, she answered it without looking at the caller ID. “Hello?”

“How are you holding up, dear?”

The concern in her mother’s voice forced Trixie to blink back a few frustrated tears. “I’d be a lot better if I could be at St. Vincent’s with Jim.”

“I know, but with those reporters snooping around, for now, it’s best that you aren’t there,” Helen told her. It hadn’t taken the media long to learn that Jim had been admitted to St. Vincent’s. In order to keep the rumors at bay, Trixie reluctantly had left her fiancé’s bedside and gone back to Sleepyside. “At least Honey’s been texting you regularly with updates.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same as being there myself,” Trixie muttered. She knew Jim would be okay. By the time she’d left, he already had improved greatly. Not only was he conscious, he was alert and practically inconsolable over Amanda’s death. Anyone who heard his lamenting would assume he was grieving the loss of his fiancée. Only those closest to him knew that his tears were caused by guilt rather than the loss of the love of his life.

“What’s the latest news?”

“Last I heard, he’s doing better physically, but he’s taking Amanda’s death really hard,” Trixie answered.

“Yes, I imagine he is,” Helen murmured thoughtfully. “Jim’s so protective of women. I’m sure he’s blaming himself.”

“He is,” Trixie affirmed. “Hey, Moms, I hate to cut this short, but I’ve got another call.”

“No problem, dear. Call me back with any updates. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Moms.” Keeping her fingers crossed that it was Honey, Trixie hit the button to disconnect her mother and answer the incoming call. “Hello?”

“Is there a reason that you haven’t called me yet?” Much to Trixie’s annoyance, Jack Palmer’s sarcastic voice greeted her on the other line. “Because I could swear that you promised you’d call me if there were any big developments, and maybe it’s just me, but I’d classify the murder of our main suspect as something big. In fact, if I were going to tack a definition onto the phrase ‘big development in an investigation’, it would probably be the death of the main suspect. So yeah, this is the epitome of a ‘big development’!”

“You could’ve at least said hello before you started griping at me,” Trixie groused.

“Hello. So, why hasn’t my phone been ringing off the hook? Or were you oblivious to the fact that someone shot Amanda Woodward in the head this morning outside of her wedding planner’s shop?”

She sighed noisily to express her displeasure. “Jack, I was going to call you, but—”

“Last time I checked, Jim put me in charge of this case,” he interjected. “You would think— since I’m supposedly the one calling the shots— that it would be your top priority to let me know about this little development. But how do I find out about Amanda’s murder? One of the secretaries here turned on the break room television at lunchtime, and I saw it on the news crawler at the bottom of the screen. All I can say is, thank God for the E! Channel, or I might still be in the dark!”

“If you’ll just let me—”

“You’d think Jim would call me, but I haven’t even heard—”

“Jim’s in the hospital,” Trixie cut in, enjoying the opportunity to interrupt him for a change. “Until an hour or two ago, he couldn’t remember your name, much less your phone number. So don’t hold your breath waiting for that call.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Jack’s tone immediately went from irritation to concern.

“He passed out cold when he saw Amanda’s body and smacked his forehead on the concrete,” she explained. “The hospital’s keeping him overnight for observation, but he should be released tomorrow.”

“He saw Amanda’s body?” Jack repeated. “Whoa, you’re gonna have to start at the beginning to get me caught up because I’m totally lost. What was Jim doing at the crime scene? Or do I even want to know?”

Trixie took a deep breath and then launched into a summary of the day’s events. “Early this morning, Jim found another package from his stalker in his Suburban. It contained a wedding cake topper with red paint all over the bride, and there was also a threatening poem inside the box. He went into a panic, assuming that the stalker was coming after me. He kept trying to call me on my cell, but, ironically enough, I was in a meeting with my own wedding coordinator and hadn’t turned on my phone.

“While Jim, Al, and Honey were combing Jim’s SUV for clues, his stalker called him, telling him to go to Fifth Avenue,” she continued. “And, being the stubborn redhead that he is, Jim hopped right in his Suburban and headed there, against Honey and Al’s wishes, might I add. When he arrived, he saw the crime scene, including Amanda’s body. He totally freaked out when he saw her and passed out cold. He fell face first onto the sidewalk and got a humdinger of a concussion. That’s how he ended up in the hospital.”

“Is he okay?”

“You know Jim; it’ll take more than a bad blow to his brain to stop him. He’s at St. Vincent’s now, and they’re keeping a close eye on him.”

“Wow, that is a lot of excitement for one day,” Jack murmured.

Trixie snorted. “Yeah, and you haven’t even heard it all.”

“Do I even want to hear the rest?”

“Probably not.”

Jack exhaled noisily, and Trixie could visualize him banging the palm of his head against his forehead like he often did when he was frustrated.

“Go ahead and drop it on me,” he said wanly.

“Jim’s stalker came to the hospital and paid him a visit,” she told him. “She must’ve been keeping an eye on things, because the minute Al stepped out for a quick cup of coffee, she snuck into Jim’s room.”

“Holy mother of God,” Jack muttered. “What did that whack job do to him? Please tell me that she didn’t put any bunnies in a blender.”

“If you’re referencing that movie Michael Douglas and Glenn Close were in, that crazy chick put the bunny in a pot of boiling water, not the blender,” Trixie corrected with a giggle. “But to answer your question, no, she didn’t pull a ‘Fatal Attraction’. She just gave him a quick kiss and stuck a note in his hand.”

“Did Jim see her? If he got a good look at her, it could bust this case wide open!”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but Sleeping Beauty was totally out of it. He couldn’t remember anything helpful.”

“That’s a shame.”

Trixie leaned back in her chair and propped up her feet on the corner of her desk. “Tell me about it. Our best suspect dies, and then Jim’s concussion causes the real stalker to slip through our fingers. What a day!”

“Detective, you’re lucky I understand you so well,” Jack teased. “If I didn’t, I’d be under the impression that you were more upset about our case than Amanda’s death.”

“Then it’s a good thing you don’t work for the NYPD.”

“Speaking of New York’s finest, has anyone told them about Jim’s stalker?”

“Not yet,” Trixie replied. “I’m leaving that up to Jim. However, later this evening Honey and I are supposed to meet Dan at the Sleepyside Police Station. We’re going to fill him in.”

“Dan’s your cop friend, right?”

“Right,” Trixie affirmed.

“He’s going to blow a gasket when he finds out what’s been going on.”

Trixie grinned sheepishly. “He already did find out, and a gasket was blown. He was not a happy camper, not at all.”

“Can’t say that I blame him. I’d be mad, too, if my best friends kept something this important from me.”

“Like you have any friends,” she needled.

Jack ignored her barb and instead asked, “So, why aren’t you at the hospital with Jim? I’m surprised you aren’t there kissing his boo-boos and making him all better.”

“The media started snooping around, so after the Wheelers got there, I came back to Sleepyside.”

“Why? It’s not like you and Jim have any reason to hide your relationship now. Amanda’s dead, so the deal with the Woodwards is off.”

“You might be right, but now probably isn’t the best time for us to go public,” Trixie explained. “I can just see the headlines in all the gossip rags, and none of them would be too flattering.”

Jack chuckled. “Yeah, I see what you mean. That Boy Scout of yours would never do anything so churlish, so maybe it’s best that you keep your distance.”

“Churlish?” she repeated. “Churlish?! You’re as bad as Mart and twice as annoying. It’s no wonder that I dumped you.”

“As I recall, I’m the one that did the dumping, not you,” Jack retorted good-naturedly.

“Did I say you were twice as annoying as Mart? I meant to say you were ten times more annoying.”

“Sticks and stones…” Jack intoned.

“Can still break your bones,” Trixie paraphrased crossly. “Forget the name-calling crap. I get much more satisfaction from causing bodily harm than I would damaging your delicate psyche.”

Jack clucked his tongue in disapproval. “I’m simply aghast at your surliness, young lady. However, I keep reminding myself that it’s merely the worry talking.”

“I am worried,” she admitted.

“Keep your chin up, sweetheart. I’m sure the Wheelers found the best doctors in New York to take care of him. Jim’s going to be fine.”

“I’d feel a lot better if I were there with him, though,” Trixie muttered.

“I’m sure he wishes the same thing, Detective,” Jack soothed. “How’s he holding up emotionally?”

“He’s feeling really guilty right now. He’s blaming himself.”

“He probably is, and rightfully so,” Jack commented quietly.

“What do you mean by that?”

“If Jim had called the police when all this started, it might not have gone this far.” Even though they were on opposite coasts, Jack could almost feel Trixie’s scathing glare.

“So, you’re assuming that Jim’s stalker pulled the trigger?” she snapped.

“Do you have any better suspects?”

“Well, unless someone changed the rules, suspects are innocent until proven guilty,” Trixie retorted. “And that includes stalkers.”

Jack groaned. “I can’t believe you. Are you actually defending that nutcase? She obviously killed Amanda. Why else would she send Jim to the crime scene?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe she just got lucky.”

“Got lucky?” he echoed.

“Or maybe the stalker was following Amanda and just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Trixie suggested. “Maybe she saw Amanda get shot, panicked, and called Jim. She could be a witness to the murder! Did you ever think of that?”

“Right now, I’m thinking that Jim isn’t the one who needs an MRI,” Jack said wryly.

“So, you aren’t even going to consider that someone else did this?”

“No, I’m not,” Jack replied. “I told you a long time ago that it sounded like the person writing these letters was escalating, and it was obvious to anyone who could read that she had evil intentions. I’m absolutely flabbergasted that you could defend her.”

“I’m not defending h—”

“Is it because it isn’t Amanda?” he interrupted. “Are you willing to give her a pass now that you know she isn’t Jim’s ex?”

“Of course not!” Trixie sputtered.

“Or maybe you could care less who the stalker is since she just offed someone you despise?”

“Jack Palmer! That’s not true, and you know it!”

“Then tell me the truth.”

Trixie released a ragged breath before she spoke. “The truth is that— for Jim’s sake— I hope and pray that his stalker didn’t kill Amanda. If she did, I don’t think he could handle the guilt.”

“For Jim’s sake, I hope you’re right about the stalker, but I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you,” he told her. “She’s obsessed with Jim, and if she thought Amanda was keeping her from riding off in the sunset with Jim, it’s likely that she decided to kill off the competition.”

“Well, until someone finds some cold, hard evidence to prove her guilty, you don’t know for sure that the stalker did it,” Trixie argued.

Jack snorted. “And you don’t know that she didn’t. Unless…Hey, what were you doing at the time of the murder?”

“Humph. I’m not even going to dignify that with a remark.”

“I’m just teasing,” Jack chuckled. He paused dramatically and then added, “You do have an alibi, don’t you? Because you do own several handguns, and everyone knows how much you loved Amanda Woodward…”

Even though she knew Jack couldn’t see her, Trixie still rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Hardy har har. I didn’t realize you’d given up the detective biz for a career in standup comedy. You’re hilarious, Jack. Simply hilarious.”

“And you’re defensive,” Jack retorted. “Why, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you had a guilty conscience.”

“Keep it up, Palmer. I still have your boss’s number on my speed dial, so you’d better watch it before I break out the blackmail material. I’ve got enough dirt on you to bury you six feet under.”

“Haven’t you killed enough today? Stop the violence, Trixie.”

Trixie grinned in spite of herself. “Sometimes I forget what a pain in the butt you are. Thanks for the reminder.”

“Aw, you know you love me.”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that,” Trixie snorted.

“Does this mean that you won’t pick me up at the airport when I come to Sleepyside?”

“You’re coming to Sleepyside?” she repeated.

Jack chuckled. “Is the connection bad? I thought for sure that I heard an echo.”

“Are you really coming here?” Trixie demanded.

“I’m seriously considering it,” he answered. “Do you think there’s room in Sleepyside for another PI?”

“Lucky for you, Honey and I don’t take up much space, so I think we can squeeze you in,” she quipped.

“It’s about time we had a face to face, and with all these new developments, it might be a good time to regroup and pick each others’ brains.”

“Sounds messy. But on the bright side, at least it won’t take Honey and me long to pick yours,” Trixie teased.

“Touché.”

“Seriously, Honey and I could use some backup. Since our number one suspect is dead, I’m not sure where we should go next with our investigation.”

“I’m hoping that if we put our heads together, we can figure something out,” Jack said.

“Hopefully before anyone else gets hurt,” Trixie added, her tone grim.

The bell over the door of the Belden-Wheeler Agency jangled, alerting Trixie that someone had just come inside. Almost immediately, she saw Honey wander into the main office area and wearily plop down in the chair across from her desk.

“Jack, I need to go,” she told him. “Honey just got back from the hospital.”

“All right. We’ll talk more about my trip later.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Tell Jim that I’m thinking of him, and keep me in the loop from now on,” Jack said.

“Will do. And Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for putting up with me even when I’m surly.”

“Anytime, kid. Talk to you later.”

Trixie ended the call and turned her attention to her best friend. “How’s Jim?”

“He’s still a little fuzzy, but he’s holding his own,” Honey answered. “I think he’s missing you, though.”

Trixie’s mouth set in a grimace. “I miss him, too. I wish I could’ve stayed at the hospital with him.”

Although it was clear that Honey was exhausted, her mega-watt smile did a lot to brighten her countenance. “I wish you could’ve, too. Mother and I had to keep explaining to him why you’d gone home. Poor Jim still isn’t thinking clearly.”

“I thought he was doing better.” There was a trace of alarm in Trixie’s voice.

“Oh, he is,” Honey quickly assured her. “According to Jim’s doctor, it’s completely normal for him to be so addlebrained. He’ll be back to his usual self before you know it.”

“Is Al still at the hospital?”

Honey nodded. “I doubt Al will be going anywhere anytime soon. He feels like it was his fault that the stalker came in Jim’s room. He hasn’t even gone to the bathroom since this morning because he’s too worried to leave his post.”

“Seriously?”

Honey nodded. “Yeah, he’s determined not to give anyone another opportunity to get to Jim. Al’s convinced that he let everyone down.”

“Like anyone would ever accuse Al of slacking on the job,” Trixie said with a shake of her head. “Nobody would’ve dreamed that this nut would have the gall to visit Jim while he was in the hospital. She took a huge risk there. On the bright side, maybe it will pay off for us. I don’t suppose we could get a gander at those hospital security tapes—”

“I’m already a step ahead of you,” Honey interjected. “I talked to the security guard and told them I needed to see the tapes ASAP. He was reluctant to hand them over—until I told him who I was. Once he found out I was Matthew Wheeler’s daughter, he was only too happy to help, especially when he saw how angry I was that my brother had had an unwelcome visitor.”

Trixie chuckled. “You don’t drop names often, but when you do, you really know how to make it work for you.”

“Why, thank you very much,” Honey said with a wink. “To make a long story short, the footage didn’t yield any new information. From what we could make out on the security tapes, the stalker’s relatively tall and slim, and definitely female, but there weren’t any other identifying features caught on camera. Her hair was tucked under a dark baseball cap, and she was wearing huge sunglasses that hid most of her face.”

“So, she either got lucky or she knew those cameras were there,” Trixie commented.

“That would be my guess.” Honey brightened suddenly as another thought struck her. “Hey, when you were at the crime scene, did you happen to notice anyone in the crowd fitting that description?”

Trixie’s brow wrinkled thoughtfully as she pondered the question. “Maybe, but I can’t say for sure,” she murmured. “To be honest, I was so focused on finding Jim that I didn’t pay attention to anyone else.”

“That’s understandable. I can’t say that I would’ve been any more observant in the same situation.”

Trixie had a harder time justifying her actions. She shook her head in obvious disappointment. “With all that’s been going on lately, my first instinct should’ve been to search the crowd for potential suspects. I really dropped the ball on this one.”

“Sweetie, just a minute ago, weren’t you scolding Al for being too hard on himself?” Honey asked.

“That’s different,” Trixie said, her pretty features contorted in a scowl.

Honey grinned. Knowing Trixie as well as she did, she knew it was pointless to argue. “On the bright side, not only did the hospital staff let me see the security footage, they put it all on a disc for me to take home. We can study it later, and maybe it will help you remember anything important.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

A pensive expression on her face, Honey cocked her head to one side and studied her best friend. “Are you okay, Trixie?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Although Honey wasn’t convinced, she let it go. “By any chance did you get in touch with your parents and let them know what was going on?”

“I called Moms first thing, and she’s keeping Dad in the loop. They’re going to visit Jim later this evening.”

“He’ll appreciate that. I’m hoping that having visitors will help keep his mind off of Amanda.”

“As for my almost-twin, he actually called me before I could get in touch with him,” Trixie continued. “As you already know, the media’s all over this like a fly on crap. Mart found out almost immediately after it happened, and of course he called Di with the news. I tried to call Brian, but he was with a patient.”

“I texted Brian with the latest before I left the hospital, so he’s in the loop. As soon as his office closes for the day, he’s heading to St. Vincent’s.”

Trixie rolled her eyes. “I think you talk to Brian more now that you’ve broken up than you did when you were still together,” she mumbled under her breath.

Although Honey heard what Trixie had said, she chose to ignore it. “When’s our meeting with Dan?”

“Six o’clock sharp.”

“Is he still mad at us for keeping the stalker a secret from him?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, but I’m assuming he is,” Trixie answered. “Of course, since you were the one that spilled the beans, he might not be as angry with you as he is me and Jim.”

If anyone could snort in a ladylike fashion, it was Honey Wheeler. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll have enough anger to go around. I’m just glad I called him when I did. If nothing else, he was able to identify the body, so at least Jim and the Woodwards were spared that.”

Trixie bobbed her head in agreement. “Dan went above and beyond the call of duty today. I’m certain that things wouldn’t have gone so well with the police if he hadn’t been there.”

“I’m glad I called him.”

“Yeah, I am, too,” Trixie agreed. “Although I admit that I wasn’t so glad when I first saw him. In all the years that I’ve known Dan, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that mad. He was fit to be tied.”

“How mad was he?”

Trixie thought for a moment and then asked, “Do you remember how mad Regan would get if we didn’t put up the tack and properly care for the horses after a long ride?”

Honey nodded.

“Well, multiply that reaction by a thousand and that will tell you how mad Dan was.”

Honey let out a low whistle. “Wow, that’s awfully angry. Did Mart take the news any better?”

“Actually, he did,” Trixie replied. “Ace reporter that he is, Mart had already figured out that something was going on with Jim, although he didn’t know what. It was only a matter of time before he dug up enough info to piece it all together.”

“It must be those snoopy Johnson genes,” Honey teased.

Trixie snickered. “Well, you’re probably right. I made sure to tell him that we weren’t ready to go public with the stalker angle yet, so Mart promised that he wouldn’t let the cat out of the bag. I wanted to give Jim a chance to tell the police before it hit the papers.”

“Good thinking.”

“Mart also promised to let us know if anyone at the Sun gets wind of anything else. You know that Paul Trent will be poking his nose around, hoping to dig up something bad about Jim.”

“Yeah,” Honey agreed glumly.

Trixie began winding a curl around her index finger, a sure sign that she was deep in thought. “Of course, if Paul can’t scrounge up some dirt, I wouldn’t put it past him to make up something.”

“As Grandmother Wheeler says, ‘There’s no need to borrow trouble.’ ” Honey studied Trixie carefully. She could see that her best friend was being consumed by troubling thoughts. It was time to change the subject. “So, do you want to grab a bite at Wimpy’s before we head over to the station?”

“I don’t know. I’m not really hungry. My stomach’s been kind of upset today.”

Honey arched an expertly manicured golden eyebrow. “You skipped lunch, didn’t you?”

“I had a lot of work to catch up on here.”

“C’mon, missy,” Honey said, grabbing Trixie’s hand and pulling her to her feet. “You’re going to have a nice, greasy bacon cheeseburger with a side order of Mike’s crispy fries, and you’re going to like it.”

“Can I get double onions?”

Honey expelled a reluctant sigh. “I suppose you may, as long as you don’t breathe on me later.”

“All right, it’s a deal.” Forcing a smile, Trixie decided to ignore the quaking in her stomach and concentrate on their upcoming meeting with Dan.

Madeleine Wheeler’s delicate features contorted into an expression of worry as she watched Jim’s chest move up and down in the rhythmic pattern of sleep. Even if she had given birth to him herself, she couldn’t have loved her son more. As far as she was concerned, he was their flesh and blood, and no DNA test could’ve proven otherwise.

In spite of her initial reluctance to take him in, loving this russet-haired runaway had become an involuntary action. His coloring, build, and temperament reminded her so much of Matthew; it was no wonder that strangers couldn’t believe he’d been adopted. Of course, during their college days, Matthew and Winthrop Frayne often had been mistaken for brothers. What surprised her most was that, when she’d first met Jim, she could see Katje in him as well as Win. Jim possessed his birth mother’s gentle and considerate nature, and ironically, that only had endeared him more to Madeleine.

Jim had entered their home with certain expectations of how a family should behave. He’d expected them to do simple things, like eating dinner together every night, playing board games, going for horseback rides, and lots of other things that regular families did without thinking anything of it. At first, Madeleine only agreed to their weekly Monopoly match to appease Jim. Much to her surprise, she discovered that she enjoyed her husband and children’s company regardless of how Matthew used his business expertise to mop up the floor with the rest of them. She found herself canceling appointments to spend time with her family, and Matthew must’ve felt the same way since he’d made it a priority to get home by seven on most nights. Unwittingly, Jim helped his adoptive parents and sister renew their bond with each other while they worked to make him feel comfortable. Slowly but surely, the Wheelers were a family, a real family, and oh, how blissful that felt!

And it was all because of this unexpected blessing of a son. With all her heart, Madeleine knew that Jim was meant to be theirs, and she loved him so.

Sniffing back the tears that were stinging her eyes, she adjusted the thin blanket that covered Jim, wishing she could do more to make him comfortable.

“Darling, you’ve tugged on that blanket so much that it probably has holes in it by now,” Matthew joked.

“I don’t want him to be cold,” she defended. “It’s like an icebox in here.”

Matthew smiled at his wife. He loved watching her when her motherly instincts took over. Still, he couldn’t resist teasing her. “Well, the hospital has to keep it cold to keep germs from growing.”

Madeleine’s expression clearly wasn’t one of amusement, and that only served to further amuse her husband.

“Jim’s fine, Maddie,” Matthew assured her. “However, if you keep fiddling with those blankets, you’ll wake him up.”

“Maybe he should be awake. He’s slept most of the day.” Her delicate brow wrinkled with worry. “I haven’t had any medical training, but I thought people with concussions weren’t supposed to sleep.”

In spite of his wife’s obvious concern, Matthew couldn’t keep from chuckling. “I’m sure the doctor would tell us if Jim needed to be kept awake. He’s been through a terrible shock, and his body probably needs the rest.”

“I still can’t believe someone’s been stalking him,” Madeleine said. Tears welled in her lovely hazel eyes. “What if that lunatic had gone after Jim instead of Amanda? We could be the ones making funeral arrangements right now instead of the Woodwards.”

“But we aren’t.” Matthew reached over and squeezed her hand. “My heart breaks for Carlton and Natasha, but I’m also thankful that our child was spared. Right now, I’m focusing on that.”

Madeleine leaned close to her son and brushed back a lock of russet hair from his bandaged forehead. “Why didn’t he tell us that someone was sending him threatening letters?” she whispered, her voice tinged with pain. “Doesn’t he know that he can tell us anything? We’re his parents.”

Matthew exhaled noisily. “It isn’t because he doesn’t trust us, Maddie. Jim simply thought he could handle it himself. He’s a private person, just like Win.”

“I understand the need for privacy, but when something is this serious, it’s even more important to confide in the ones you love.”

“That’s not how men like Win and Jim tick. When Win and I were in college together, there was a mix-up with one of Win’s scholarships,” Matthew recalled. “For a while, he thought he might have to transfer. He got it worked out at the last minute, but I didn’t hear a thing about it until it was all over. Win knew that my grandfather had given a fortune to Harvard’s athletic department, and my family easily could’ve pulled some strings for him, but Win wanted to handle it himself. That man was stubborn as a mule and so hard-headed—”

“He kind of reminds me of you, Dad,” Jim mumbled sleepily. “No wonder you got along so well with him.”

“Jim, dear, you’re awake,” Madeleine murmured. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I took a nosedive into the sidewalk,” he muttered, wincing slightly from the pain shooting through his head.

With a careful eye, Matthew appraised Jim’s countenance and actions, searching for any sign that something was wrong. “How’s the dizziness? Are you still feeling any nausea?”

“I’m a little dizzy, but no, I don’t feel sick to my stomach anymore,” Jim answered.

“You’re certainly making more sense than you were before,” Madeleine commented.

“Yeah, the fuzziness seems to be going away.”

“Can we get you anything?” Madeleine asked. “A cup of ice or a cool cloth, perhaps?”

Jim tried to shake his head, but the lingering discomfort caused his efforts to fall short. “No, I’m okay. Where’s Trixie?”

“Son, she left a few hours ago,” Matthew told him. “We didn’t want the media speculating why she was still here. There are several reporters in the lobby of the hospital.”

“Jim, don’t you remember saying goodbye to her?” Madeleine asked, a trace of panic in her voice.

“Vaguely.” Jim used a freckled hand to rub the sleep out of his eyes. “She shouldn’t have gone home by herself. Is she okay?”

Madeleine smiled. It was just like Jim to be more concerned for Trixie than himself. “She’s doing a lot better than you are.”

“I’m fine,” Jim muttered.

“Sure you are, son.” Matthew winked over at his wife.

Jim’s eyes darted around the room. “Wasn’t Honey here when I fell asleep, or was I imagining things?”

Matthew nodded. “Yes, but she left while you were napping. She and Trixie have a business meeting later this evening.”

“What about Al?”

The burly bodyguard, his bulky form folded like an accordion in a small chair, spoke up from across the room. “Hey, I ain’t breezed off yet, Mr. Jim. You needin’ somethin’?”

“How long have you been here, Al?” Jim queried. He grimaced as he shifted around a bit to find a more comfortable position. Any sort of movement seemed to make his headache worse.

“Since the croaker stitched up that mug of yours,” Al answered. “I never seen a sidewalk dry-gulch someone like that, boss.”

“You’ve probably been here for several hours at least,” Jim muttered.

Al chuckled. “Hey, I ain’t got no broad to pitch woo to, so I might as well stay here keepin’ an eye on you. After all, that’s what you’re payin’ me the big geetus for, an’ I gotta earn my keep.”

“Nobody’s going to bother me here, Al,” Jim said. “Go home and get some rest.”

Al shook his head. “Sorry, but I ain’t gonna read an’ write, boss, no matter how gashouse you get with me. I’m wearin’ you like a rich ol’ dame wears her oyster fruit an’ ice. Savvy?”

“Al, after today you’ve certainly proven your worth to me,” Madeleine said as she regarded Al with a new appreciation. She didn’t have the slightest idea what he’d said, but she could tell by his tone and demeanor that he was completely loyal to Jim. “Nobody could’ve watched over my son better. I’m so thankful Jim has you in his corner.”

“I just wish someone had been watching over Amanda,” Jim said, his voice raw with remorse. “If only I’d had known the stalker was talking about her, she might still be alive.”

Madeleine clutched his hand. “Try not to think about that, son.”

“It’s kind of hard not to,” Jim protested. “I mean, it is my fault that she’s dead…”

“No, it’s not.” Matthew stiffened his jaw just like Jim did when he was angry. “You didn’t pull the trigger, son.”

“I might as well have.”

“Listen to me, son,” Matthew directed through gritted teeth. “Amanda’s murder is a horrible tragedy, but it isn’t your fault. You did not kill her.”

A wince distorted Jim’s even features. “Yeah, but my stalker did.”

“We don’t know that for sure, Jim,” Matthew pointed out sternly.

“It’s only a matter of time before the police find out that that’s exactly what happened.” Jim’s voice was flat and void of any emotion except defeat.

Madeleine cleared her throat. “Speaking of the police,” she began somewhat anxiously, ignoring the dirty look her husband was giving her, “the two homicide detectives that are working on Amanda’s case are supposed to stop by later. They need to ask you some questions.”

“What kind of questions?” Jim queried.

“The kind they normally ask in a murder investigation,” Matthew replied matter-of-factly.

Although he was wounded and experiencing pain, Jim’s chin still had that same upward thrust as it did anytime he got defensive. “Do they think I shot her?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Matthew said honestly. “However, to my knowledge it’s standard procedure to interview a murder victim’s significant other.”

“And since we hadn’t announced our breakup, I’m the significant other,” Jim deduced.

Matthew’s voice became sympathetic. “As long as you’re honest with them, it should be all right.”

“You know, there was once a time when everyone just assumed I’d be honest,” Jim remarked. His lips dipped downward in a grimace. “I never thought anyone would feel compelled to warn me not to lie.”

Matthew winced. He knew how important honesty and integrity were to Jim. It had been difficult for Jim to keep up this charade, and now he was paying for it. Worst of all, Matthew knew that Jim wouldn’t have had to lie if he and Madeleine hadn’t persuaded him to do so.

“Son,” he began, his voice quivering ever so slightly, “your mother and I never should’ve made that agreement with the Woodwards. I’m sorry that we forced you to pretend you were still engaged to Amanda.”

“Dad, you didn’t force me to do anything. After the way I treated Amanda, it was the least I could do.”

“Regardless, I encouraged you to agree to their proposal, and because of your obligation to the Woodwards, you’ve been unable to move on with your life,” Matthew said. He expelled a labored breath, and then added, “I hope we can put all of that behind us, including that blasted arrangement!”

“I’m anxious for that, too,” Jim agreed.

For an instant, the worry lines disappeared from Madeleine’s forehead. “Does this mean you’re going to tell the police that you and Amanda had broken up?”

“I’m thinking it would be a good idea,” Jim answered.

Madeleine squeezed his hand. “I hope you’ll consider it, dear. Ever since your father and I made that agreement with the Woodwards, I’ve been worried sick. We never should’ve encouraged to go along with their plan. If it weren’t for this farce, Amanda might be…” Her voice caught on the words, but although she hadn’t completed her sentence, everyone knew that she was going to say that Amanda might still be alive. The unspoken words filled the room with an almost overwhelming feeling of gloom.

“We don’t know that, Maddie.” Although he didn’t raise his voice, Matthew’s tone was sober, and, at least in this instance, he didn’t want any argument whatsoever. “Jim, I know you feel obligated to protect Amanda, but to be perfectly frank, there’s nothing to protect her from now. You need to protect yourself, son. Those detectives will find out the truth, and it’s better if they hear it from you.”

“I know, Dad,” Jim said, his voice weary. He tried to muster a weak smile. “Now I know why everyone in the office is so afraid of you. You’re just like a dog after a bone. You’d think you’d have a little sympathy for this poor, helpless patient.”

Matthew’s lopsided grin was almost identical to his son’s. “Sympathy is for schmucks. Sorry, but no mercy for you until you agree to come clean to the cops.”

“If I agree, do you promise to let me go back to sleep?” Jim pleaded.

“It’s a deal.”

Before the two men could shake on it, the phone by the bed jangled loudly, causing Jim to jump. Matthew answered it quickly before it could ring again.

“Hello?” His expression clouded over as soon as the caller identified himself. Stony-faced, he listened for several minutes before speaking. “Yes, he’s awake now, so you can come up anytime…Okay, we’ll see you then.” Matthew’s lips settled into a thin, rigid line as he hung up the receiver.

“Was that the police?” Madeleine asked, her voice trembling.

Silent, Matthew shook his head.

“Then who was it?” Madeleine prompted.

Still, her husband said nothing.

Wincing, Jim raised himself into a more upright position. “Who was on the phone, Dad?”

“It was Carlton Woodward,” Matthew answered through a constricted throat. “He and Natasha need to speak to Jim. They said it was very important.”

“What about?” Madeleine gasped.

Matthew’s eyes darted nervously back and forth from Jim to Madeleine before finally settling on Jim. “Carlton didn’t say, but I guess we’ll find out soon enough. He and Natasha are on their way now.”

“Don’t worry, Jim,” Madeleine murmured. “They…probably want to check on you and make sure you’re okay.”

Silent, Jim sunk back against his pillow. His instincts weren’t as finely tuned as Trixie’s, but something told him that this wasn’t a friendly visit from Amanda’s parents. His quaking insides told him that this meeting wasn’t a good thing. As bad as this morning had been, things were only going to get worse. Like the aftershocks after a major earthquake, the repercussions from today’s tragedy would continue to wreak havoc in his and Trixie’s lives. Jim didn’t know when, but his instincts told him that there were more tremors to come, and they would all lead up to “the big one”.

That was life on the fault line.

First of all, I can’t believe that I’ve been a Jix Author for six years! Time flies when you’re having fun. Thank you so much to all those that read and comment on my stories.

Thank you to my wonderful editors, Kaye KL, Steph H, and Ryl, who tirelessly edit my stories. Without your encouragement, this story probably would’ve ended up in my computer’s recycle bin.

The contraption featured in the background is the Richter Scale.

Dolores and Lupe Perez were mentioned in The Black Jacket Mystery.

“Fatal Attraction” was a movie starring Michael Douglas and Glenn Close, and yes, a bunny was boiled, not blended.

Al’s dictionary:

Croaker- doctor

Dry-gulch- knock out

Pitching woo- making love

Geetus- money

Read and write- rhyming slang for take flight

Gashouse- rough

Oyster fruit- pearls

Ice- diamonds