A/N: I recently got out my copy of Ghostly Galleon to look something up and I had totally forgotten just how bad the Lucy Radcliffe story was, lol. I can’t figure out how, as a child, I went along with it without thinking, “Yikes!” For reference: I could see my reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall beside me. A tall, slim girl, about eighteen years of age, with dark red hair and wide green eyes stared back at me. Her complexion was flawless. Her long, golden dress hung gracefully from her white shoulders. “Easy now, Lucy,” I whispered to her. “The fate of your country depends on your next move.” Marv Appleton – Father of THE Mary Sue. Please take this bit of nonsense in the spirit it’s intended and enjoy a different sort of Halloween scream. Also, please forgive me for bending the challenge rules a tad for this one. This fits in the A Simple Kind of Fear universe but it’s spoiler-free and the only thing you need to know about it if you aren’t familiar with that bucket of crazy is that an OC policewoman by the name of Jean Rand is as much of a Lucy fan as Trixie is. (For those of you who are familiar, this takes place during Season 2, before Jean’s promotion and after Trixie has moved in with her and discovered Jean’s collection of Lucy novels.)
Hunted in Hudson Valley
by Lucy Radcliffe
by Lucy Radcliffe
Darkness was just starting to descend on the seemingly peaceful town of Sunnyside-on-the-Hudson in New York’s famous Hudson River Valley as I crept out of the Williams' Manor Home and made my way quickly toward the dense game preserve that surrounded the estate. I was dressed in a heavy, black velvet cloak with the hood pulled up to cover my long, beautiful auburn locks and I kept my head bent, knowing my perfect, pale white features would stand out like a beacon if I was seen. The Williams family, servants, and friends were inside, enjoying a well-attended All Hallows’ Eve Ball that would still go on for hours, but I’d lost track of Wesley Ryan, the Williams’ handsome, rugged groom, and I suspected he was out checking on the stable full of prized horses. It wouldn’t do for him to spot me now and possibly blow my established cover. As far as everyone but billionaire industrialist Mack Williams knew, I was just a young, eighteen-year-old, recent high school graduate working as an intern for my “uncle.” Mr. Williams had introduced me around about a week before as the daughter of one of his cousins and with my red hair and emerald green eyes, I was a plausible match for his family. In fact, between Mr. Williams, his adopted son John, and Wes Ryan, I’d never seen so many redheads in one place!
I had put in my appearance at the party, dressed as a captivating witch, and entertained the guests with a few popular ballads sung to the accompaniment of Mrs. Williams on the piano. I have a rich, mezzo-soprano voice that my former choir teacher frequently assured me was good enough for Broadway and I always enjoy performing for an appreciative audience. As soon as I was sure I could slip away, I let myself out the back kitchen door to disappear into the growing shadows of twilight.
So far, I’d spent my time in Sunnyside quietly investigating a case of industrial espionage with serious ramifications for not just Williams Industries, but my country and even the world. Secret plans for a remote-controlled, high-speed aircraft that could carry nuclear weapons into enemy territories had been stolen from the Williams Industries’ Advanced Technology Development Division, and it was up to me to track down the thief and reclaim the plans before he could sell them to a foreign buyer.
I’d identified the thief within a few hours of my first day on the job. It was obvious to me that Dr. Greg Russell was up to no good the moment I set eyes on his scraggly, unwashed hair, beady dark eyes, and rat-like teeth that he bared in a leering smile each time I looked his way. I kept close watch on him and while pretending to search for some files related to a merger with a French manufacturer, I overheard Dr. Russell on his telephone, arranging to meet his buyer Halloween night out on the western edge of the Williams’ preserve near the bluffs overlooking the mighty Hudson River. It was my intention to beat him to the location and catch him in the act! I’d phoned my partner, Sam, and he was on his way as well, approaching the drop-off point from the south.
Once I was about twenty yards down one of the leaf-covered paths, I switched on the small flashlight I’d hidden in a secret pocket of my cloak and panned it around to get my bearings. I’d carefully memorized a map of the game preserve and knew that I would need to take the first left-hand fork I came to, followed by another left, two rights, and still another left. This would bring me to a small clearing near my final destination. It was there that I would find a small, sturdy treehouse that belonged to a young boy who lived in a quaint farmhouse on a neighboring property. Billy Barnett was an adorable if perhaps a bit rambunctious child I’d met my second day in Sunnyside while Mr. Williams’ daughter took me on a local tour. He’d naturally begged me to visit him again as soon as I could, and when I’d gone to see him the next morning, he took me to visit his treehouse to show me his collection of rocks and leaves. Unbeknownst to Billy, I’d returned there later that day and hidden my high-powered DSLR camera behind a box of action figures on a shelf by the small window near the door. It was there waiting for me now and I would use it to capture proof of Dr. Russell’s perfidy.
At first, I moved forward with hurried but confident steps, conscious of the passing time and my need to make haste. I was about halfway to Billy’s treehouse when I became aware of a strange, high-pitched whistling sound that seemed to almost echo off the trees around me. I ducked off the path, shut off my light, and crouched down, wrapping my cloak around me as I waited and listened. I was unsure of the source of the whistle. I was familiar with many various bird calls and animal cries due to my training as a Frontier Girl Guide, where I’d achieved the Master Pathfinder level at the age of thirteen, the youngest to ever do so, but this was something quite different and unusual. There was a definite eeriness about it. It paused momentarily, only to start again, this time louder and closer than before. Although I heard no recognizable words or tune, I had the distinct impression that whoever or whatever the whistler was, he – or it – was calling to someone. I silently slipped my flashlight back into my pocket and adjusted my position. I was ready to leap up and defend myself, if necessary. Many a criminal and scoundrel had mistaken my trim, slender figure for weakness, only to find himself outmatched by my strength and my considerable martial arts skills.
The whistling grew louder yet and I stared up the path, waiting. Was this some strange signal Dr. Russell used to alert his buyer? It seemed unlikely.
Suddenly, I felt something brush past me. With a gasp, I spun around. The whistling noise stopped abruptly and now a silence fell over the forest that was completely unnatural. Though I strained my eyes, I saw nothing that would explain the light but unmistakable touch I’d felt on my back.
“Why do you hide like a scared little child?” asked a peculiar voice in a sing-song tone. “Why do you cower, my pretty little flower?”
“Who’s there?” I called out, rising to my feet with my arms raised for a knifehand strike.
“I see you…!”
I felt something slide by me again, this time with a sharp shove to my shoulder. I struck out and connected with nothing but air. “Who are you?” I demanded as I jumped back onto the path and sought my unseen attacker. “What do you want?”
The only answer I received was a high-pitched laughter that made my -
“Wonder Girl?”
With a startled yelp, Trixie Belden dropped the book she was holding and looked up to find Sergeant Jean Rand smiling at her.
“Sorry!” Jean said with a light chuckle. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“Not your fault,” Trixie told her, grinning ruefully. “Even though I’ve read this one at least five times, I always get caught up in it. I definitely think it’s the scariest of the series.”
Jean cocked her head to one side and Trixie picked up the book from the picnic table, holding it so Jean could see the cover. “Oh, one of my favorites!”
“Mine, too! I mean, there’s the whole stolen plans mystery, of course, but that’s nothing compared to the real villain!”
“The Whistler! I know. Talk about creepy - an evil phantom hunting Lucy through the forest until Sam can save her!”
“Yeah. This was one of the few times Mr. Appleton used a genuine supernatural element. I mean, I know there was also Ambush in the Arctic Circle with the Abominable Snowman, but that one was more ambiguous, you know? Did she really see an Abominable Snowman or not?”
Jean sat down across from her young friend. “I’m kinda surprised to see you here this afternoon. By yourself. I thought we talked about you not going off alone?”
Trixie winced. “I know,” she murmured apologetically, “but I figured a busy place like Carter Lake was okay. I mean, there are plenty of families about right now. I’m just killing time until I’m due at work. My class was cancelled this afternoon. The professor’s got the flu, I guess, but Regan’s still in the city with Dan and I just didn’t feel like going home.”
“Hmm, well, considering the trouble you could be getting up to, I suppose I should just be thankful you’re here, reading.”
With a grin, Trixie flipped open her book. “I’m glad you see it that way. You know, Mr. Appleton wrote this one right after he came to visit us when Jim and Brian graduated high school. It’s really not hard to see the, uh… inspiration. I think Mart was always jealous that there’s a Lucy novel with a connection to Sleepyside but not one related to Cosmo McNaught.”
Jean laughed at that. “I haven’t read it recently. Maybe now that I know you and your crazy friends better, I should give it another go. I’m sure I’ll pick up a lot more of his ‘inspiration’ that I hadn’t recognized before.”
“Right? I keep meaning to read at least part of it to Regan. It’s an absolute scream that he mentions ‘Wesley Ryan’ putting his big, freckled hands on his hips at the end while he’s standing guard over Dr. Russell and waiting for the cops. Man, did he just nail it with that one!”
I had put in my appearance at the party, dressed as a captivating witch, and entertained the guests with a few popular ballads sung to the accompaniment of Mrs. Williams on the piano. I have a rich, mezzo-soprano voice that my former choir teacher frequently assured me was good enough for Broadway and I always enjoy performing for an appreciative audience. As soon as I was sure I could slip away, I let myself out the back kitchen door to disappear into the growing shadows of twilight.
So far, I’d spent my time in Sunnyside quietly investigating a case of industrial espionage with serious ramifications for not just Williams Industries, but my country and even the world. Secret plans for a remote-controlled, high-speed aircraft that could carry nuclear weapons into enemy territories had been stolen from the Williams Industries’ Advanced Technology Development Division, and it was up to me to track down the thief and reclaim the plans before he could sell them to a foreign buyer.
I’d identified the thief within a few hours of my first day on the job. It was obvious to me that Dr. Greg Russell was up to no good the moment I set eyes on his scraggly, unwashed hair, beady dark eyes, and rat-like teeth that he bared in a leering smile each time I looked his way. I kept close watch on him and while pretending to search for some files related to a merger with a French manufacturer, I overheard Dr. Russell on his telephone, arranging to meet his buyer Halloween night out on the western edge of the Williams’ preserve near the bluffs overlooking the mighty Hudson River. It was my intention to beat him to the location and catch him in the act! I’d phoned my partner, Sam, and he was on his way as well, approaching the drop-off point from the south.
Once I was about twenty yards down one of the leaf-covered paths, I switched on the small flashlight I’d hidden in a secret pocket of my cloak and panned it around to get my bearings. I’d carefully memorized a map of the game preserve and knew that I would need to take the first left-hand fork I came to, followed by another left, two rights, and still another left. This would bring me to a small clearing near my final destination. It was there that I would find a small, sturdy treehouse that belonged to a young boy who lived in a quaint farmhouse on a neighboring property. Billy Barnett was an adorable if perhaps a bit rambunctious child I’d met my second day in Sunnyside while Mr. Williams’ daughter took me on a local tour. He’d naturally begged me to visit him again as soon as I could, and when I’d gone to see him the next morning, he took me to visit his treehouse to show me his collection of rocks and leaves. Unbeknownst to Billy, I’d returned there later that day and hidden my high-powered DSLR camera behind a box of action figures on a shelf by the small window near the door. It was there waiting for me now and I would use it to capture proof of Dr. Russell’s perfidy.
At first, I moved forward with hurried but confident steps, conscious of the passing time and my need to make haste. I was about halfway to Billy’s treehouse when I became aware of a strange, high-pitched whistling sound that seemed to almost echo off the trees around me. I ducked off the path, shut off my light, and crouched down, wrapping my cloak around me as I waited and listened. I was unsure of the source of the whistle. I was familiar with many various bird calls and animal cries due to my training as a Frontier Girl Guide, where I’d achieved the Master Pathfinder level at the age of thirteen, the youngest to ever do so, but this was something quite different and unusual. There was a definite eeriness about it. It paused momentarily, only to start again, this time louder and closer than before. Although I heard no recognizable words or tune, I had the distinct impression that whoever or whatever the whistler was, he – or it – was calling to someone. I silently slipped my flashlight back into my pocket and adjusted my position. I was ready to leap up and defend myself, if necessary. Many a criminal and scoundrel had mistaken my trim, slender figure for weakness, only to find himself outmatched by my strength and my considerable martial arts skills.
The whistling grew louder yet and I stared up the path, waiting. Was this some strange signal Dr. Russell used to alert his buyer? It seemed unlikely.
Suddenly, I felt something brush past me. With a gasp, I spun around. The whistling noise stopped abruptly and now a silence fell over the forest that was completely unnatural. Though I strained my eyes, I saw nothing that would explain the light but unmistakable touch I’d felt on my back.
“Why do you hide like a scared little child?” asked a peculiar voice in a sing-song tone. “Why do you cower, my pretty little flower?”
“Who’s there?” I called out, rising to my feet with my arms raised for a knifehand strike.
“I see you…!”
I felt something slide by me again, this time with a sharp shove to my shoulder. I struck out and connected with nothing but air. “Who are you?” I demanded as I jumped back onto the path and sought my unseen attacker. “What do you want?”
The only answer I received was a high-pitched laughter that made my -
“Wonder Girl?”
With a startled yelp, Trixie Belden dropped the book she was holding and looked up to find Sergeant Jean Rand smiling at her.
“Sorry!” Jean said with a light chuckle. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“Not your fault,” Trixie told her, grinning ruefully. “Even though I’ve read this one at least five times, I always get caught up in it. I definitely think it’s the scariest of the series.”
Jean cocked her head to one side and Trixie picked up the book from the picnic table, holding it so Jean could see the cover. “Oh, one of my favorites!”
“Mine, too! I mean, there’s the whole stolen plans mystery, of course, but that’s nothing compared to the real villain!”
“The Whistler! I know. Talk about creepy - an evil phantom hunting Lucy through the forest until Sam can save her!”
“Yeah. This was one of the few times Mr. Appleton used a genuine supernatural element. I mean, I know there was also Ambush in the Arctic Circle with the Abominable Snowman, but that one was more ambiguous, you know? Did she really see an Abominable Snowman or not?”
Jean sat down across from her young friend. “I’m kinda surprised to see you here this afternoon. By yourself. I thought we talked about you not going off alone?”
Trixie winced. “I know,” she murmured apologetically, “but I figured a busy place like Carter Lake was okay. I mean, there are plenty of families about right now. I’m just killing time until I’m due at work. My class was cancelled this afternoon. The professor’s got the flu, I guess, but Regan’s still in the city with Dan and I just didn’t feel like going home.”
“Hmm, well, considering the trouble you could be getting up to, I suppose I should just be thankful you’re here, reading.”
With a grin, Trixie flipped open her book. “I’m glad you see it that way. You know, Mr. Appleton wrote this one right after he came to visit us when Jim and Brian graduated high school. It’s really not hard to see the, uh… inspiration. I think Mart was always jealous that there’s a Lucy novel with a connection to Sleepyside but not one related to Cosmo McNaught.”
Jean laughed at that. “I haven’t read it recently. Maybe now that I know you and your crazy friends better, I should give it another go. I’m sure I’ll pick up a lot more of his ‘inspiration’ that I hadn’t recognized before.”
“Right? I keep meaning to read at least part of it to Regan. It’s an absolute scream that he mentions ‘Wesley Ryan’ putting his big, freckled hands on his hips at the end while he’s standing guard over Dr. Russell and waiting for the cops. Man, did he just nail it with that one!”