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This story returns the focus back to Jim and his stalker.
After a flurry of activity, the stalker’s been quiet. Is it too good to be
true? Monday, January 31 7:00 P.M. How did I allow myself
to get in this position? What was I thinking? Why did I let it go this far? The barrage of self recriminations pelted Jim
Frayne like giant hailstones. He had to resist the urge to shield his face
and run for cover as he once again wondered why he’d allowed himself to be
placed in such a difficult spot. For almost four months, he’d been forced to
continue the sham of an engagement to Amanda Woodward. Thankfully, the end
drew near. In just a few days, he could tell the media that he and Amanda had
ended their relationship. He and Trixie would be free to see one another
without fear of a scandal. Then why was he filled with such a
sense of foreboding? Consumed with his ominous thoughts,
Jim almost jumped as he heard someone say his name. “Mr. Frayne, are you listening? I’ll
repeat the question in case you didn’t hear. Have you decided what you’ll
tell the media?” Jim looked over at the gentleman who
was sitting in the chair opposite him in the Manor House study. Although he
was barely in his forties, Cameron Banks’ hair had turned completely silver.
His piercing blue eyes were striking against his tanned face, and the lack of
laugh lines or crow’s feet hinted that his youthful appearance hadn’t come
cheaply. He was immaculately dressed in a charcoal-on-silver pinstriped suit,
and his burgundy tie contrasted perfectly against his crisply starched dress
shirt. As one of the most respected publicists in the United States, the
former editor for the Wall Street
Journal commanded respect. He was the kind of man a client wanted to have
handling his affairs, and he would stop at nothing to sway public opinion in
favor of his employer. Unfortunately for Jim, Cameron Banks was on Carlton
Woodward’s payroll, not his. Although Jim didn’t have a
publicist, his adoptive father sat in attendance. The always suspicious
Matthew Wheeler watched Banks like a hawk. He’d had dealings with the P.R.
man before, and he knew this smooth talker didn’t have Jim’s best interest at
heart. Banks’ top priority was to ensure that Amanda Woodward came out of
this broken engagement smelling like a rose. That was fine with Matthew, as
long as Jim’s reputation wasn’t tarnished in the process. However, he knew that wasn’t Cameron Banks’
style. “It sounds as if you intend to place
the blame entirely on Jim,” Matthew interjected. “As I recall, Jim was the one who broke the engagement, not Amanda; therefore,
the blame does fall on him and him
alone,” Banks informed him sharply. “It was an engagement, not a legally
binding document merging two businesses!” Matthew snapped. “Engagements are
broken every day.” “That may be true,” Banks conceded,
“but Amanda Woodward isn’t in the habit of being publicly humiliated. Someone
has to take the fall for this, and by God, it isn’t going to be Amanda! The
poor girl has suffered enough.” By now, Matthew’s face had turned a
beet red. “If you think I’m going to let the bloodsucking media to destroy my
son, then you can go to—” “Hold it!” Jim interjected, holding
up a silencing hand. “Banks is right; Amanda shouldn’t have to pay for my
mistake. I’ll handle the press.” “But that wasn’t part of our
agreement with the Woodwards, son,” Matthew asserted. “When Carlton asked us
to delay telling the media, he promised your mother and me that when we went
public it could be announced as an amicable split.” “Do you have that in writing?” Banks
queried. “Well, no, but—” “Then it’s your word against his,”
Banks replied. “And since you don’t sign my paycheck, I’m going to side with
Carl.” “That’s a load of bull—” “I’ll make this a lot easier for
everyone and agree to notify the media myself,” Jim announced firmly. “Jim,” Matthew began in a pleading
voice, “are you sure you want to deal with the press? You don’t have much
experience handling them.” “You don’t need experience when
you’re dealing with the truth,” Jim maintained. “Son, you’re being naïve. I don’t
care how honest you are with those people. Their sole intention is to sell
papers. They’ll do whatever it takes to grab the public’s interest, and that
includes taking the truth and stretching it in all directions.” Jim squared his jaw as if preparing
for a challenge. “I appreciate your support, Dad, but since I caused this
mess, I’ll clean it up.” Matthew recognized the expression;
he’d seen it in two generations of Fraynes by now. He knew better than to
question Jim when he looked like that. “If that’s what you want,” he
conceded. “When do you plan to take care of
this?” Banks asked. “I don’t know,” Jim murmured
thoughtfully. “When’s Amanda leaving for Europe?” “Saturday, February fifth, unless
something comes up at her shop,” Banks answered. Jim nodded. “I have a friend who’s a
reporter for the Sleepyside Sun.
I’ll work with him on a press release, and he can help me send it out to all
the major publications right after Amanda leaves.” “And what do you intend to say in
this press release?” Banks prompted. “Just that Amanda and I have decided
to part ways, and our engagement is off.” “And what will you say when the
press asks for a reason?” “No comment,” Jim said with a grin. Cameron Banks rolled his eyes.
“Telling a reporter ‘no comment’ is like pouring a barrel of blood in the
middle of the ocean and not expecting any hungry sharks to show up.” “Well, I guess it takes a shark to
know how a shark will behave,” Matthew muttered under his breath. The
publicist rolled his eyes again, but was wise enough not to argue. “I
guarantee you that this breakup is going to be big news, so you’d better
prepare yourself for the inevitable feeding frenzy.” “I’ll keep that in mind,” Jim
returned dryly. “You don’t intend to announce your
engagement to this other girl immediately, do you?” Jim shook his head. “No, neither
Trixie nor I is particularly anxious to be thrust into the limelight.” “Good,” Banks said gruffly. “It
would be best for Amanda if you waited a month or so before going public with
that news.” “My fiancée and I are waiting for
our own benefit, not Amanda’s,” Jim clarified. “And just so you know, Trixie
wasn’t the only reason I broke my engagement to Amanda. I wouldn’t have
married her even if Trixie hadn’t accepted my proposal. I didn’t love her.” Banks chose to ignore his remarks.
“When you’ve drawn up that release, fax or email me a copy before it goes
out,” he directed. “That won’t be a problem,” Jim
agreed. Considerably more skeptical than his
son, Matthew quirked a sandy brow as he glared as the publicist. “And what do
you plan to do?” “Pardon?” Banks asked politely. “Do you intend to contact any of the
media outlets on behalf of your client?” Matthew demanded. “I don’t believe that’s any of your
business, Wheeler.” Matthew, a master of intimidation
tactics, uncoiled his six-foot-plus frame from his chair and leaned down
closer to the P.R. man. “Anything that has to do with my son is my business, and you’d better
remember that, Banks,” he snarled,
emphasizing the last name. Al, who had sat in respectful
silence for the majority of the meeting, stood to his feet. He wanted to be
ready in case he needed to break up a fight, which he would happily do sooner
or later. Sooner, if that cocky Banks was winning, but more likely later, if
Matthew was the one doing the butt-kicking. However, before Al could so much
as make a fist, Banks gathered his things and rose from his chair. “I have another appointment, so
you’ll have to excuse me,” he said graciously. “You can call my office if you
have any questions. Meanwhile, I’ll be expecting your fax.” Jim and Matthew offered their
perfunctory farewells, and then, once the coast was clear, sat back down to
discuss the meeting. “I don’t know about you,” Matthew
began, “but I don’t trust that guy any farther than I could throw him, and
his ego alone makes him heavier than a pregnant elephant.” “I don’t trust him either, Dad. But
what can I do?” “Just watch your back, son. Watch
your back.” Al cleared his throat. “I don’t like
that guy neither, boss. He ain’t no better than a hard-on with a suitcase.” Matthew threw his head back and
laughed. “I don’t know what that means, but I think you’ve just described
Cameron Banks to a T.” “Well, if you ask me,” Al continued, “that dude’s a
real Nance. Shake him a bit, an’ he’ll crack. Hey, if you’re interested, I
could drop a dime to some young Turks I know. A visit from them, an’— bada
bing bada boom— that empty suit don’t bother you no more.” “Well, I think we’ll hold off on
that for a bit, Al,” Jim told him, doing his best to stifle a grin. “Personally, I think it’s an
excellent suggestion,” Matthew muttered. “Are you sure, Mr. Jim?” Al asked
hopefully. “ ‘Cuz it wouldn’t be no trouble at all for me to call some goons
I know an’ ask ‘em to yank his chain for yous guys. I mean, they won’t fill
him with daylight or nothin’, jus’ give him a goog. It might make him more
agreeable, if you get what I’m sayin’.” “Thanks, Al, but I’d better handle
this myself,” Jim assured him. “Well, if you change your mind, I’ll
get on the horn to my boys ASAP an’ have ‘em take care of that sharper,
boss,” Al promised. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Matthew cocked his head pensively to
one side. “You know, you might want to take him up on his offer, Jim.
Apparently, Carlton Woodward has decided to play hardball, and take it from
me, you don’t want to mess with him.” “Amanda’s father seemed nice enough
during the trustee meetings,” Jim said. “Yes, but you’ve never butted heads
with him,” Matthew pointed out. “He’s a great guy… until you oppose him. I’ve
heard rumors that his business tactics are so ruthless that he makes Al
Capone look like a pussy cat.” “You’ve never said anything negative
about him before,” Jim commented. “That’s because I never needed to
until now,” Matthew answered. “I usually refrain from gossiping, but I
thought it was best to tell you what Carlton’s like outside of the Ten Acres
board room. Sure, he comes across as a bighearted philanthropist, but when it
comes to business dealings, it’s another story. He’s an ethical person, but
he’s not above blurring the boundary between moral and immoral to serve his
purpose.” “I’m not trying to take over his
evil empire,” Jim joked. “No, but you did dump his little girl,” Matthew observed. “I’ve been surprised that he’s continued
being so cordial to you thus far, but I suspect that was because he expected
you to reconcile with Amanda. Now that that hasn’t happened, I’d say you’re
in for a real eye-opening experience next time you see him.” Jim wondered briefly if he should
let his father know about the situation with his stalker, but he decided
against it. “If he starts giving me any trouble, I may have to replace him on
the Board of Trustees.” Matthew nodded. “Yes, I’d definitely
look into that if I were you.” With a groan, Jim stood. “Well,
enough about this. I’ve spent too much of my evening thinking about the
Woodwards.” “Is Trixie coming over sometime
tonight?” Matthew asked. “She’s supposed to stop by on her
way back from Brooklyn. She and Honey were working on a case there today.” Matthew smiled as he thought about
his future daughter-in-law. In spite of the problems that they were having
with the family of Jim’s former fiancée, he was thankful Jim hadn’t married
Amanda. It would’ve been the biggest mistake of his young life. Jim was meant
to be with Trixie; the heavens had proclaimed it. “Well,” he said aloud, “if anyone
can make you forget your troubles, Trixie can.” “If you need me, I’ll be in the rec
room watching the basketball game,” Jim said. “Syracuse is playing tonight,
and I want to see what happens.” Matthew quirked an inquisitive brow.
“Trying to suck up to Peter?” “How’d you guess?” Jim chuckled. “Have fun,” Matthew called as his
son exited the room.
By the time Trixie arrived, Jim had
dozed off on the couch and was snoring softly. His feet were propped up on
the nearby coffee table, and his head was leaned back against the sofa
cushions. The remote to the 60-inch plasma television was still clutched in
his freckled hand. Trixie was tempted
to see if she could sneak it away without waking him up. As much as she loved
basketball, there was a new episode of “The Closer” on later that night. Unfortunately for her, Trixie had
barely laid a finger on the remote when one green eye opened. “Just what do
you think you’re doing?” “Umm… Nothing.” Jim snorted loudly, now fully awake.
“You’re a horrible liar.” “Well, pardon me for trying to hold your hand.” Trixie gave her best
sniff of her nose and toss of her curls combo. “I’ll never do it again.” “You’re still lying.” “All right, Mr. Know-It-All,” Trixie
drawled out sarcastically, “what am
I doing?” With a plucky grin, Jim held up the
controller. “Trying to steal this
remote. Unfortunately for you, I have the reflexes of a ninja.” “Yeah, I can’t count the times I’ve
seen napping ninjas,” she snickered. “I kept you from getting this, didn’t I?” He shook the
controller as he said the word “this”. “You’re not even watching that
stupid game!” Trixie said with a scowl. “Of course I am!” “Okay, then. Who’s winning?” Jim peeked at the television as discreetly as
possible, and then replied, “Right now the score is tied.” “Hey, no fair! You peeked!” “You don’t know
that." “Yes, I do!” she argued. “You were sound asleep
when I came in here.” “For your information, I was just resting my eyes,”
he said in a superior tone. “You were snoring, Jim. And if I’m not mistaken,
drool was dripping down your chin.” “I drool when I watch college basketball; so sue
me.” Trixie whacked her thighs with the palms of her
hands in a helpless gesture. “You aren’t even watching this, and ‘The Closer’
comes on in five minutes!” “You can catch the rerun.” “If I don’t watch it now, Honey will tell me the
ending. You know how she is; she can’t keep a secret to save her life.” “You can turn it after the game,” Jim agreed. Trixie expelled an exaggerated sigh. “But I need to see the beginning,” she
wheedled. “You know that I like to guess who the murderer is.” “Yes, and then you always solve the whole thing in
the first ten minutes of the show,” he added with a twitch of his lips. “That’s the whole point!” she exclaimed. “You
wouldn’t want me to ruin my perfect record, do you?” “You can turn the channel after the game.” When Jim used that tone, it was impossible to
change his mind. Trixie knew she’d have to try a new tactic. “All right,” she
huffed. “I’ll try to be patient.” Jim quirked a skeptical ginger brow, but didn’t say
anything. “This does
look like a good game,” she continued. “Since when are you more interested in college
basketball than crime shows?” he scoffed. “You know that I’ve always liked basketball,” she
retorted. “Don’t you remember all those shots I sunk at Riverdale?” “Well, yeah,” Jim muttered. “Now that I think of it, doesn’t that tall guy on the
blue team remind you of Ned Shultz?” she gushed. “Ohmigosh, he’s a dead
ringer for the sheik! I wonder how Ned is, now that he’s playing for the
Knicks?” Without a word, Jim held out the remote to her. “Thank you, thank you so much,” Trixie drawled in her
best Brenda Lee Johnson imitation as she accepted the controller and
immediately changed the channel to TNT. “If you call me ‘Fritzy’ even once, I’m taking that remote and turning back to my game,”
Jim threatened. “I’ll let you watch
your show, but you aren’t allowed to pretend that you’re Brenda, and that
includes speaking with a Southern accent.” “I wouldn’t dream
of doing such a thing,” she promised. “All right, but don’t say that I didn’t warn you,”
he said gruffly. “Fair enough.” Knowing Jim was all bark and no
bite, Trixie sashayed over to the couch and eased herself onto his lap.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she situated herself against him snugly.
Looking up at him with a saucy smile, she purred, “Is this seat taken?” Unable to maintain the stern pretense, Jim’s lips
melted into a crooked grin. “This lap has a strict reservation policy. Only
sandy-haired detectives named Trixie are permitted in this area.” “That’s a good policy to have,” she declared. “It
keeps all willowy blondes named Dot, Laura, and Amanda away.” “I’m glad you approve,” he murmured, nuzzling her
neck. “Of course, the policy may have to change in a few years so that it
isn’t so exclusive.” Trixie scooted away to study him through lowered
brows. “Umm… Say what?” “In the future I might have all sorts of blondes
crawling up in my lap,” he said with a chuckle. “Redheads, too.” “If you want to live to see tomorrow, you’d better
explain yourself mighty fast, Frayne,” she growled. In spite of the fact that he was in grave danger,
Jim couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m talking about our kids, Shamus,” he
explained. “I assume you’ll let our children sit in my lap.” Trixie smirked at him. “I suppose I’ll make an
exception for our unborn children.” “How kind of you,” Jim teased, kissing the end of
her nose. He chuckled as he noticed that she was still scowling. “You don’t
have to worry, Trixie. I don’t plan to get a lap dance from any of the
dancers at the local strip club. Well, not after we get married, anyway…” “It’s a good thing I don’t have my gun with me,”
she remarked testily. She glanced down pointedly in the general direction of
Jim’s lap. “ ‘Cuz if I did, you’d likely have
a sac full of gunpowder for scaring me like that, and then those unborn
children wouldn’t be an issue.” “Yee-ikes,” Jim muttered under his breath. “Remind
me not to jump out of a closet and scare you after we’re married. One prank
could cost me my nuts.” Trixie was barely able to school her lips into a
straight line. “They don’t call me Itchy Finger Belden for nothing. If you
know what’s good for you, you’ll keep the practical jokes to a minimum. Got
it, Frayne?” “Got it,” he gulped. “Good, now that you know how it works, be quiet,”
she ordered. “My show’s coming on.” Jim gave her a smart salute. “Yes, ma’am.” Giggling, she settled back in the crook of his arm.
She fit so perfectly in the crevice, and the thought crossed her mind that
she must’ve been created to fit in that exact space. The crime drama had barely been on for five minutes
when Trixie emitted a dramatic sigh. “He did it,” she announced, pointing to
a man in the scene. “He’s barely said three words, and you’re accusing
him of murder?” “He’s the guy,” Trixie insisted. “I’m sure of it.
Sanchez might as well cuff him now.” “But why would he
kill her? They don’t even know each
other.” Trixie proceeded to explain her reasoning, leaving
little doubt that her suspicions went beyond a hunch. She provided a
plausible motive and noted her suspect had opportunity. If there was any
doubt left in Jim’s mind, she gave a detailed description of the murder, and
once she had finished, Jim could only shake his head in awe. “Wow, Trix!” he exclaimed. “You’re good!” Smiling smugly, Trixie blew on her fingernails and
then rubbed them against her shirt. “They don’t call me the Schoolgirl Shamus
for nothin’.” “But I thought they called you ‘Itchy Finger
Belden’?” “You’re such a brat,” Trixie muttered. Jim may have been chuckling, but his eyes shone
with pride. “Seriously, I’m impressed, Shamus. How did you figure it out so
quickly?” “Hey, I’m just that good,” she gloated. “Too bad you can’t point the Major Crimes team in
the right direction. They’re way off track.” “Weeeell, it’s possible that I have a slight
advantage,” Trixie drawled out. “How’s that?” “I just watched this episode last week,” she
confessed with a sheepish grin. “Why, you little fibber!” Jim shouted as he began
tickling her. He wiggled his fingers in all her most ticklish spots,
chuckling wickedly as she tried to squirm away. “S-s-stop!” she gasped through her giggles. She
tried to push him away, but her attempts at escape were futile. “Or I-I-I’m
going t0 p-pee on you!” The next second, Trixie found herself sprawled on
the floor. Scowling, she looked up at Jim, still seated comfortably on the
couch. “Hey!” she thundered. “Why’d you dump me on the
floor?” “I didn’t want you to pee on me.” Trixie made a face at him. “I thought you were
marrying me for better or worse.” “Well, I don’t mind sticking with you in sickness
or health,” Jim began, “but I might have a problem accepting you in wetness
or dryness. Frankly, I was under the impression that you were already
housebroken and dryness would be a given.” “You monkey turd!” she fumed, smacking him
repeatedly in the shin. “I hope those unborn children you’re so worried about
never pee on you!” Chuckling, Jim grabbed her from behind, scooped her
up in his arms and pulled her back on his lap. He managed to trap her
flailing arms in his embrace, and no matter how she squirmed, she couldn’t
wrestle free. Spying a patch of bare skin peeking out from the collar of her
shirt, he trailed kisses along the back of her neck and up to her ear. “You’re not playing fair,” she protested. “How am I
supposed to fight back with you distracting me like that?” “Make love, not war,” he quipped in between kisses. Trixie sighed with pleasure, enjoying the feel of
his warm breath against her skin. “I had no idea you were such a pacifist.” “Mmm… Me neither,” he murmured as he gently nipped
her earlobe with his teeth. “The Vanderheidens are Dutch, and the Fraynes are
Irish, but I must have some French in me someplace, because I’m more of a
lover than a fighter.” “I don’t know about that,” she snorted. “Slim might
have to disagree. I’ll bet he can still feel that punch you landed. You
could’ve had a career as a boxer, so you certainly don’t lack any fighting
skills.” “Like I said, I’m more of a lover than a fighter,
so just imagine how well I’ll make love,” he whispered huskily. Trixie shivered as desire shot through her like lightning.
“Oh, I do imagine it. At least
twenty times a day.” “Twenty times a day?” he repeated. “It’s more like
twenty times an hour for me. I
barely get anything accomplished.” Wanting to play a more active role in their exchange,
Trixie shifted around until she was facing him. Her hands, trembling with
longing, traveled the path up to his muscled chest, over his broad shoulders,
and all along his square jaw line. She
looked into his eyes and noticed they were dark with passion, so dark that
they were almost black. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could
say anything, his lips took the words from her. Chills coursed up and down
her spine as she felt the warm, soft pressure of his mouth on hers. His lips
were gentle at first, the kiss undemanding. Dizzy from the combination of his
tangy pine scent and the blissful feel of his muscular body pressed closely
against hers, she snaked her arms around his neck for support. With a soft
sigh, she opened her mouth, inviting him to deepen the kiss, and he was only
too happy to accept the invitation. Ardor swept over them like a wildfire, threatening
to consume them both. Jim’s lips became rougher as they sought hers. Trixie
could feel every ounce of his desire in that kiss, and somehow that only
increased her own yearning. Just as she began to worry that their intense
fervor was so hot that it would cause them to spontaneously combust, a voice
brought them back to reality. “Uh… You need me to skate, boss?” Startled, Trixie jumped back and looked over at Al,
whom she hadn’t even realized was in the room. The Wheelers’ recreation room
was divided into two separate areas. One half of the space was a television
area, and the other part contained a huge pool table, an air hockey game, and
a futon. Jim’s bodyguard had managed to contort his large frame onto the
small couch. Since the two seating areas in the room were separated by the
pool table, Trixie hadn’t noticed Al lying there. “Al!” she exclaimed, wiggling off Jim’s lap and
onto a separate cushion of the couch. “I didn’t even see you!” “Obviously,” he snorted. “I didn’t mean to scare
you. I musta dozed off.” Jim cleared his throat. “You were so quiet that I’d
forgotten you were here.” “Yeah, you kinda lose your head whenever you’re
around Miss Trixie,” Al said with a grin. “You sure are dizzy for that dame,
boss.” “Sorry about that, Al,” Jim told him. Al waved off Jim’s apology. “That’s okay. I
understand how you feel.” “Have you been in love, Al?” Trixie asked
plaintively, sensing he had suffered some sort of loss in his past. Al shook his head. “Nah, at least not with a frail.
But I did have this Harley once that was really sweet. I was pretty tore up
when the elephant ears seized it. I ain’t seen her since.” “That’s… uh… too bad,” Trixie stammered in what she
hoped was a sincere voice. “Well, I can take off if yous two wanna be alone…”
Al offered. “That’s okay, Al,” Jim answered. “You’re welcome to
sit here and watch TV with us.” “I’m beat, so I might go ahead an’ turn in,” Al
said. “The alarm system’s on, an’ it looks like you’re in good hands. Miss
Trixie can rough up any whack-job that breaks in an’ starts gettin’ gashouse
with you, boss.” “Goodnight, Al,” Jim called. The hulking man groaned as he uncoiled his
six-foot-five frame from the futon. “See you in the mornin’, Mr. Jim. Nice
seein’ you again, Miss Trixie.” “Sweet dreams,” Trixie murmured. Once they were
alone, she whacked Jim on the arm. “Why didn’t you tell me he was here?” she
hissed. “I forgot.” He grinned over at her. “Like Al said,
you make me dizzy. I can’t be held accountable for my shortcomings.” “Humph,” she huffed through a protruded lower lip.
“You’d better be nice to me, since your life is in my hands. You heard Al; if
that wacky stalker of yours breaks in, I’m supposed to protect you.” Jim looked at her tenderly as he tugged on his
favorite curl. “Yes, but who’s going to protect you, Shamus?” Trixie groaned, knowing exactly what was coming
next. “Please don’t start on that
again,” she begged. “I’ve already told you countless times that I can take
care of myself.” “Have you thought about talking to someone else
about this?” Jim suggested. “Maybe you could talk to Jack—” “A-ha!” Trixie interrupted. “I thought there was something fishy about his phone call today!” Jim did his best to look surprised. “Oh, did Jack
get in touch with you?” “Don’t even try and play dumb with me, Frayne!”
Trixie stormed. “I know you like I know the back of my hand, so I had a
pretty good feeling that you were behind this!” “Behind what?” Jim blinked his eyes in a perfect
imitation of a coy Diana. “Jack had the nerve to suggest that I get a
bodyguard!” Trixie hissed. “Maybe he thinks you need one.” “Well, maybe he’d better start worrying about his
own safety!” Trixie retorted. “Right now, he’s in a lot more danger than I
am!” “Shamus, he’s just—” “So, did you pay extra for that little suggestion
of his, or does he have his own death wish?” she interrupted. “For your information, Jack agrees that you need
protection.” “I don’t really care what you and Jack agree on,” Trixie argued. “With all the
training I’ve had, I’m prepared for anything.” Jim ran his fingers through his hair, a sure sign
that he was under a great deal of stress. Trying his best to sound calm and
rational, he said, “I know you’ve had a lot of training, but what if you’re
caught off guard?” “It won’t be a problem because I won’t be caught
off guard,” Trixie informed him with an indignant sniff. “I notice things
other people miss.” She was tempted to point out that she’d noticed
that the past couple of days she’d been followed by the same black car, but
she decided there was no need to worry him. “Trixie, I know you’re observant, but you don’t
have eyes in the back of your head.” “Honey’s
with me most of the time,” she persisted. “If I miss something, she’ll pick
up on it.” Jim’s emerald-colored eyes sparked with anger. “Why
do you always have to be so stubborn, Trixie?” “Because I can take care of myself!” she thundered.
“Why do you have to be such a worrywart?” A ragged sigh escaped from Jim’s lips. His eyes
were beseeching as he pleaded his case. “Trixie, I know you can take care of
yourself, and I don’t doubt your abilities. You’re perfectly capable of
protecting yourself. However, I’m not asking you to agree to this for you. I
want you to do it for me.” Trixie hesitantly met his gaze. “What do you mean?” “I’m going crazy with worry,” he admitted. “I have
this horrible feeling that something’s going to happen to you. I need to make
sure you’re okay.” Something in his voice tugged at her heart. Even
after she’d noticed the black car trailing her, Trixie doubted she was in
danger, but in Jim’s mind, the jeopardy was real. The loss of his parents had
scarred him deeply. He’d come to expect loss, especially when his life seemed
to be going smoothly. “I’ll think
about getting a bodyguard,” she said, stressing the word “think”. “No
promises, though.” “Please do,” he murmured. “I don’t think I could go
on without you, Shamus. As strong as everyone thinks I am, I’m weak without
you. If anything happened to you, I think I’d die.” Trixie massaged his shoulders, hoping to relieve
the stress she saw in his face. “Nothing’s going to happen to me, so don’t
even talk like that. Why are you so worried all of a sudden?” “I can’t explain it,” he mumbled. “I hope you aren’t worrying about that last note,”
Trixie said. Jim shot her a wry smirk. “It’s kind of hard not
to, when you get a note that says, Death
cannot subdue, Love that is true.” “Jack and I talked about it, and we agree that if
anyone’s in danger, it likely could be your stalker.” “Then why did she send me that note with the bloody
heart?” Jim demanded. “It doesn’t make sense!” “We’re dealing with a psychopath, Jim. They don’t
have to make sense. It’s one of the perks of being a psychopath.” “I guess you’ve got a point there,” he admitted. “I
still wish we knew what we’re dealing with.” “Jack’s friend with the F.B.I. drew up a profile,
and according to that, you may not even know your stalker. It could be some
whack-job that saw your picture in the paper and thought you were cute.” Jim snorted. “I doubt that.” “Well, I
think you’re cute.” “Yeah, and you’re a psychopath,” he teased. “Natch,”
Trixie agreed with a giggle. She quickly sobered when she noticed the worry
lines creasing Jim’s forehead. “Seriously, it wouldn’t be uncommon in this
situation for a stalker to threaten suicide as a last-ditch effort to get
your attention.” The faint worry lines in Jim’s forehead suddenly
turned into chasms as he pondered Trixie’s words. “But what if she isn’t
threatening? What if she’s serious? Why won’t she tell me who she is so I can
help her?” In spite of Jim’s obvious concern, Trixie couldn’t
help but smile at him. It was so like Jim to be worried about someone’s
welfare, even if that someone didn’t have his best interests at heart. “Amanda…” Trixie shook her head and corrected
herself. “Whoever’s stalking you probably thinks you already know her
identity. In her mind, you might have an intimate relationship with her.” “If she thinks that I already know who she is,
won’t she be mad at me for not answering her back?” Trixie shrugged. “It’s hard to tell what she’s
thinking. For all we know, she might think that you are answering. It’s been known to happen.” “I can’t take much more of this,” Jim rasped. “It’s driving me crazy…” “I know, sweetie, I know,” she murmured as she
rubbed his back. “Something must’ve happened for you to be so stressed. What
is it?” “I just have a bad feeling,” he answered wearily. “Does this ‘feeling’ have anything to do with your
meeting with the Woodwards’ lawyer?” “It was their publicist, and how do you know about
that?” “Celia told me when I called to let you know that I
was on my way over,” she explained. “I asked to speak with you, but she said
you were in a meeting with that Banks dude.” “Did she tell you why we were meeting?” “No, but I hope you
will.” Jim’s face was drawn with nervous tension. “He
wanted to know what I was going to tell the media. I guess Carlton and
Natasha are worried that I’ll soil their baby girl’s reputation by telling
the gossip rags that I never loved her.” “What did you tell him?” she asked. “I told him that I didn’t have anything definite
planned yet, but that I was going to work on it with Mart,” he answered. “Did you decide when you’ll make the announcement?” “February fifth, after Amanda’s out of the
country.” Trixie tilted her head in a reflective manner. “And
it won’t be a problem for us to announce our engagement in March?” “It shouldn’t be. As far as I know, everything
should be good to go.” “Good,” she responded. “Amanda’s done enough to
disrupt our lives. I’m anxious for us to be free to act like two normal
people about to get married. I’m sick of living in hiding.” “Me too,” he agreed. “I know it’ll make the wedding
planning a lot easier.” Trixie nodded. “Yeah, although I must admit that
Felicia’s been very discreet. She hasn’t said a peep to the press.” “I’m sure her silence didn’t come cheaply,” Jim
pointed out with a grin. “Thank goodness your family’s paying for that,” she
commented. “If the Beldens had money to pay for peace and quiet, we would’ve
blown our whole budget on Mart long ago.” Jim chuckled. “Well, it was the least Mother and
Dad could do, since they were the ones that worked out that agreement with
the Woodwards.” “I still don’t understand why they did that.” “I guess Dad was worried that Amanda’s dad would
cause problems for the school,” he said with a shrug. “Did you happen to say anything at the meeting about
the stalker?” “Why would I do that?” Jim gasped. Trixie gave a slight shrug. “I thought if you
mentioned it to that P.R. guy, that maybe he could talk some sense into
Amanda.” “You still think she’s the stalker?” “She’s our number one suspect.” Jim’s expression grew thoughtful. “What’s on your mind?” Trixie prompted. “I was thinking that if my stalker really is
Amanda, she won’t do anything to hurt herself,” Jim answered, recalling their
earlier discussion. “She’s the type to make threats to get attention, but
she’d never go through with it.” “Well, if Amanda has been sending you these nasty notes and presents, I want
everyone to know that she isn’t the victim in this,” Trixie railed. “If she is
guilty, then I’m sure the Woodwards’ publicist can spin it so that public
sympathy swings in her direction.” Jim shook his head in disgust. “That
Cameron Banks is quite a character. You’d better brace yourself for the
negative press when our relationship is out in the open. He’s out to prove
that I’m a horrible person for breaking Amanda’s heart.” “I can handle it,” Trixie said with a plucky grin. “So no second thoughts?” he pressed. “None at all.” Jim smiled, and the worry lines in his forehead
suddenly disappeared. “I’m sure we won’t have to deal with it for long. Dad
and Mother have never really courted the media like the Woodwards do. Once
Amanda moves on to somebody else, the attention will shift back to her.” Trixie giggled. “As wonderful as that will be for
us, I can’t help but feel sorry for her next victim.” Jim glowered at her, but didn’t say anything. “Well,” Trixie continued, ignoring the glare, “I do hope you’re right that we won’t
have to live in the spotlight forever. However, if Amanda is your stalker, then we’ll be
bombarded by the media, especially if she’s arrested.” “If it comes to that, I’ll do all I can to avoid
pressing charges.” “Of course, that will depend on what she does,” she
remarked. “It might be out of your hands.” Since he didn’t want to talk about what sort of crime
would have to be committed in order for that to happen, Jim changed the
subject. “Do you have anything else new to report?” “Honey and I talked to the florist today that
delivered your dead roses,” she told him. “He didn’t remember anything
helpful about the person who placed the order. He did affirm that it was a
woman, about five-foot-seven or eight.” “Could he describe her?” Trixie shook her head. “She was wearing a scarf
that completely covered her hair, along with dark sunglasses. He did say that
she had on a tan trench coat.” “It sounds exactly like the woman at Wolfgang’s,”
he said glumly. “And you’re sure
you didn’t recognize her?” “I told you before that I didn’t see her,” he
retorted. “Could it have been Amanda?” Jim sighed wearily. “Yes, it could’ve been Amanda,
but it could’ve just as easily been Mother or Honey,” he shot back testily. “Do you think Al could recognize her in a lineup?” “He could probably recognize her legs,” Jim cracked
dryly. Trixie shot him a quizzical look. “Huh?” “Never mind. To answer your question, I don’t know
if Al would recognize her or not. You’ll have to ask him,” he answered.
“Could the florist give you a name?” “No, she paid cash.” “Well, of course she did.” Jim rubbed his forehead.
He felt a migraine coming on. “What about the heart and the knife?” “The good news is that it came from a pig, not a
human,” Trixie announced. “I figured that it didn’t belong to a person. What
about the knife?” Trixie frowned. “It was a butcher knife that you
could buy at any discount department store. The lab checked for DNA around
the blade, but it was clean.” “Typical,” he muttered. “These things can take time, Jim,” she reminded
him. “That’s what I keep hearing,” he muttered. “Was
Jack able to dig up any dirt on the staff or the trustees?” “Yeah, he was going to call you, but I told him I
was on my way here, so he said I could give you the update,” Trixie
explained. “Marvin and Anna Curtis are clean as a whistle. Nothing appears
out of the ordinary with Randy James either. However, did you know Michael
Murray grew up in Iowa?” “No, I didn’t, but so what?” “So,” Trixie drawled dramatically, “I wonder if he
has any connection to Dot Murray.” “Surely you don’t think Dot has anything to do with
this!” Jim chuckled. “I wouldn’t put it past her.” Trixie inched closer
and assumed a conspiratorial tone. “I don’t know if you knew this, but I
didn’t like her very much.” Jim cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh, I kind of picked
up on that. But Trix, why on earth would she start stalking me after all
these years?” “Well, why wouldn’t she?” Trixie challenged.
“You’re the kind of guy that gets under a girl’s skin, Jim. You’re hard to
forget. Believe me, I tried.” “I’ll take your word for it,” he replied, casting a
fond smile in her direction. “What about the trustees? Did Jack dig up
anything interesting?” “Jacqueline Fitzgerald and Lila Davenport are both
squeaky clean,” Trixie told him. “And so is your former future father-in-law.
However, Jack made the comment that it appeared all information regarding
Carlton Woodward had been sanitized.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “There’s a good chance that he isn’t as honest as
he seems, but if he does have any skeletons in his closet, they’re well
hidden.” “That sounds about right,” Jim murmured,
remembering the conversation he’d had with Matthew. “We’re also looking into Jane Morgan,” Trixie
added. “Her behavior was really odd at Ruthie’s shower. I’m pretty sure that
she’s up to something.” “She always gave me the creeps back in high school,”
Jim remarked. Trixie made a mental note to dig extra deep in
Jane’s past. “Did you get anything today?” He shook his head. “Nothing.” “Really?” Trixie’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“That’s strange.” “What do you mean?” “According to the profile Jack’s F.B.I. friend did,
your stalker is escalating,” she explained. “What would make him think that?” Jim questioned. “Mostly it was the fact that she contacted you
several times last week. That’s unusual, since she initially only made
contact once a week.” Jim nodded. “Also, Jack’s friend expected her to up the ante,”
she continued. “ ‘Up the ante’?” he repeated. “What’s that
supposed to mean?” She slowly released a pent-up breath. “It could
mean a lot of things.” “Like what?” “Things that you don’t need to worry about as long
as you keep taking precautions,” Trixie hedged. Jim scowled. “You know how much it bugs me when you
keep things from me.” “If it makes you feel better, Jack didn’t give me
any details,” she told him. “So if you want to bark at somebody, bark at
him.” “Am I barking at you?” “As a matter of fact, you have been for the past
ten minutes,” she retorted. “If you keep it up, you’re going to end up in the
doghouse where all barking animals belong.” “Sorry for being a butt,” he apologized with a
sheepish grin. Trixie emitted a theatrical sigh. “Well, even
though you’ve been acting like a butt, I suppose I’ll forgive you since you
have such a cute one.” “I’ll take your word for it.” “Anyway, I’m glad that you haven’t heard anything
from your biggest fan,” Trixie said. “If it is Amanda, maybe she decided to give up on you after giving you
one last chance. You’ll probably never hear from her again.” “And so she gives me a pig heart that’s been
stabbed by a butcher knife as a farewell gift?” Jim shook his head in
disbelief. “I don’t think so, Trix.” “Do you think Amanda would hurt you?” “No, absolutely not,” he answered firmly. “Could she hurt anyone else, including herself?” “No. Well, at least I don’t think she would.” Jim gave Trixie one final pleading look. “I’d
never forgive myself if she hurt you, Trix.” Trixie snorted. “I’ll be just fine, Jim. With that
honking laugh of hers, I’ll be able to hear her a mile away.” Jim still didn’t look convinced. “How about we forget about your stalker and enjoy
the rest of our evening?” Trixie suggested. She picked up the remote that had
fallen on the floor at some point and switched the channel back to ESPN.
“I’ll even let you watch your basketball game.” “You just want to look at that guy who reminds you
of the Sheik,” he teased. “That’s silly,” she chortled. “Besides, at closer
glance that guy doesn’t really look like Ned. His ears are too big. But you
know what that means, don’t you?” “Yeah, that he can really hear.” Jim had to dodge
the throw pillow that she threw at him. “Sit back and be quiet, Frayne,” she ordered. “I know one surefire way to make me shut up,” he
said with a waggle of his ginger brows. “What’s that? Punch you in the mouth?” Jim assumed a wounded expression. “You’re being
mean to me tonight.” “Ah, poor baby!” Trixie gave him a quick kiss and
then cuddled next to him. “I’m sorry for treating you so mean.” “You should be sorrier about that poor excuse of a
kiss,” he mumbled. “Hey, after what happened the last time we were
kissing, I’m afraid someone else will pop up and scare me half to death.” “I give you my word that there isn’t anyone hiding
in the closet,” Jim promised, holding up two fingers like a Boy Scout saying
his pledge. “Well, okay, but if Celia jumps out from under the
air hockey table, you’re in big trouble.” With a giggle, she tilted her mouth
up in anticipation of his kiss. After several toe-curling minutes, they
separated. “Much better,” Jim said through ragged breaths. “I agree.” Jim wrapped his arm around her, and she snuggled
against his chest. “Mmm… It feels good to relax,” she murmured
contentedly. “Did you have a stressful day?” “Yes,” she admitted. “We spent most of the day
running around Brooklyn. A woman was worried her husband was cheating on her,
so she hired us to follow him. After what Honey and I saw today, it looks
like she’s right. I feel so badly for her.” “I’m sorry, Shamus,” Jim said as he kissed the top
of her curly head. He knew that tracking down cheating spouses was the only
thing Trixie hated about her job. “The worst thing is that she’s several months
pregnant,” she added. “I dread meeting with her again and telling her that
her hunch was correct.” “Are you doing that tomorrow?” Trixie shook her head. “No, I’ve got a meeting with
Felicia in Manhattan. We’re supposed to make a final decision on the
bridesmaids’ dresses.” “I never thought I’d hear you say that you’d rather
meet with your wedding planner than go to work,” Jim commented with a
chuckle. “Yeah, me neither,” she snorted. “Is anyone going to be with you in the city?” “No.”
Picking up on the worry in his voice, she asked, “Why do you want to
know?” “No reason,” he answered as nonchalantly as
possible. “If you’re worried about me going by myself, you
could always come with me,” Trixie suggested. “I’m afraid I can’t. I have a staff meeting in the
morning.” Trixie’s lips pooched in a pout. “Can’t you skip
it?” “No, I’m afraid I can’t,” Jim chuckled. “C’mon, Mr. Frayne,” Trixie cajoled in her
sultriest voice. “You can always reschedule that boring ol’ meeting for
later. Nobody will care.” Jim kissed the end of her pert nose. “I wish I
could, Shamus, but unfortunately I’m not allowed to play hooky.” “You’re no fun at all,” she muttered. “Maybe Honey could—” “She probably could, but I don’t want to ask her,”
Trixie interrupted. “Things are still a little tense there.” “You went to Brooklyn with her today.” Trixie sighed noisily. “Yes, but that was work
related. If we can keep things focused on cases, we’re fine. However, if
something personal comes up, it starts getting kind of weird.” “Now you know how Honey felt when we weren’t
together,” Jim pointed out with a wink. “Yes, but then we were in agreement that you were
acting like an idiot,” she retorted. Jim chuckled. “You’ll get no argument from me.” “This time, it’s different.” Trixie shook her head
sadly. “It’s not like they’re going to come to their senses eventually and
get back together. Brian and Honey have broken up, and I don’t think they’re
going to get back together.” “What makes you say that?” “I can just tell,” she said glumly. Smiling, Jim brushed away “his” curl that always
hung in the middle of Trixie’s forehead. “Shamus, I’m guessing that this is
just as hard for Honey and Brian as it is for the rest of us.” “Humph, I doubt that,” Trixie crossed her arms in
front of her chest. “They’re fine with it. In fact, Honey spent most of today
texting Brian about this or that.” “Well, that’s… good,” Jim faltered. Trixie rolled her eyes in exasperation. “More like
weird, if you ask me. I mean, if they’re going to act so cozy, they might as
well get back together.” “I’m sure they know what they’re doing,” Jim
soothed. “You’re being awfully calm about all this,” she
grumbled. “Maybe that’s because their breakup didn’t come as
a surprise to me.” Trixie quirked a single sandy brow. “And why’s
that?” “Because Brian never looked at Honey the way I look
at you or the way Mart looks at Di,” Jim answered without skipping a beat.
“Honey deserves more. They both do.” Trixie leaned back against the couch and snuggled
next to Jim. “I’m glad that you’re you, I’m me, and you look at me the way
you do.” “I’m glad that you love me the way you do,” Jim
murmured as he kissed the top of her head. A great gust of wind caused the shutters outside to
rattle, sending Trixie even closer to Jim. “Ooh, it’s getting bad out there.” With a shiver,
she tucked her feet under her bottom. “We’re supposed to get another storm
later tonight.” “I knew this warmer weather was too good to last,”
Jim muttered. “Yeah, it was nice actually seeing the bare ground
for a change, but I think we’re supposed to get at least five or six inches
of snow by morning.” “Well, there’s one good thing about the temperature
dropping.” Jim flashed her one of his lopsided grins, and then added, “It’s
another excuse for cuddling with my moll dick.” Trixie snorted in her most unladylike fashion.
“Like you need an excuse for that.” “You’ve got a point there,” Jim murmured in her
ear. He wrapped an arm around Trixie’s shoulders and drew her closer. “You
know, it might be fun to do a little more than cuddle…” “After the wedding, Frayne,” Trixie reminded him
through a giggle. “Curse this honorable crap,” he muttered. “Since we don’t have anything better to do, maybe
you could hand me that remote over there.” Trixie’s grin was sheepish. “The
new Closer comes on in five minutes.” “Sure, but it’ll cost you one hot and steamy kiss
to be paid during the first commercial break.” “You’ve got yourself a deal,” Trixie agreed,
accepting the remote that he held out to her. Once the controller was safe in
her possession, and after she had turned the channel to TNT, she added, “Of
course, I was planning to kiss you during the commercials anyway, but
unfortunately for you, all sales are final.” That was okay with Jim, as he was content to hold
her in his arms and run his fingers through her tangled curls. As the television drama began to unfold,
his thoughts went back to the situation with his stalker. Outside, the wind howled loudly as the
snowstorm moved closer to Sleepyside. When he looked out the window, the
dusk-to-dawn lamp shone brightly, and Jim could see the tops of the trees
whipping around. He could tell the gales were picking up velocity. A shiver ran up his spine, and he instinctively
wrapped his arms tighter around Trixie. Deep down, he knew that the weather
wasn’t the cause of his tremors. This was the brief period of calm during the
storm, figuratively as well as literally. Something about this approaching
tempest reminded him of his own life. No matter how badly Jim wanted to believe that his
stalker had made her point and was satisfied to leave well enough alone, he
couldn’t. He knew the worst destruction was yet to come. This lull in
activity was only temporary. He’d often heard that in the middle of a
hurricane there was a brief period of tranquility, which ushered in the grand
finale. That’s where Jim found himself now. In the eye of the storm.
First of all, thank you to my editors, who work tirelessly
to make sure I don’t post crap. J ♥ Ryl, your enthusiasm is contagious! Without you, I
never would’ve thought to use “recriminations”, which is currently one of my
favorite words to say. Ruminations, ruminations… Doesn’t it just sound cool? ♥ Kaye, thanks for all the input on the prepositions.
Forget “to be, or not to be” (which are infinitives anyway, but I digress…).
There are better things to nitpick about, like “at” versus “in”. ♥ Steph, I couldn’t ask for a better editor. You give
it to me straight when I need it, but you also never fail to offer
encouragement when I need that. I would’ve already hung it up if it weren’t
for cheerleaders like you. The Wall Street Journal is a famous business news
publication, but as far as I know, Cameron Banks has never been their editor.
Just as an FYI, many publicists have worked in the media. I like writing a mad Matthew Wheeler. It’s fun. J Steph was worried that Matthew had sandy eyebrows instead
of ginger or russet. However, JC gave him sandy eyebrows, and I’m not going
to argue. For the record, several redheads do have sandy eyebrows, and the
lighter shade of brows is why I gave my Matthew lighter red hair than the
Fraynes. Now, for one of my favorite parts. Here is your Al
glossary: Hard-on with a suitcase- a lawyer A nance- an effeminate man Shake him a bit- apply some pressure, not literally shake
him Drop a dime- make a phone call Turks- newer members of the mafia that don’t always do
things the traditional way Empty suit- a man of little substance Fill with daylight- to shoot Goog- a black eye Horn- phone Sharper- a sneaky person Skate- leave Dizzy for a dame- in love with a woman Frail- a woman Elephant ears- the police Getting gashouse- getting rough with As stated in “Daddy’s Girl”, Peter went to Syracuse
University. “The Closer” is one of the most awesome shows EVER! In case
you were wondering, Deputy Chief Brenda Lee Johnson is the main character
(played by Kyra Sedgwick), and she has a Southern drawl. She is in charge of
the Major Case squad of the Los Angeles Police Department. “Fritzy” (Fritz
Howard) is her husband, who is an F.B.I. agent. Detective Sanchez is a member
of Brenda’s team, and he likes to get tough with people. If you aren’t
watching, the new season should begin soon. Start watching NOW!!! “The tall guy on the blue team” is a tip of my hat to
former Mountaineer Joe Alexander. Curious about the car that was following Trixie? More about
that later. Felicia Paulette is Trixie’s wedding coordinator.
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