Nine photographs. Nine. It was strange, Trixie Belden reflected silently, how just nine photos had turned her world upside down. Nine pictures of the people she loved most sent to her by someone unknown, with only one simple message.
You will be contacted shortly with instructions.
Instructions for what? She couldn’t even begin to guess, but one thing she was sure of. It wouldn’t be good. For a week now, ever since discovering the unmarked envelope propped up against her door, Trixie had spent her days looking over her shoulder and her nights drifting in and out of a restless sleep filled with frightening and unsettling dreams. She suspected this was intentional. Whatever instructions were to come, someone wanted her particularly scared. He’d left her to stew and panic, letting her anxiety eat at her as it grew.
She dreaded the arrival of the instructions, but at the same time, she wished they would come. This waiting was close to overwhelming her completely.
She jumped slightly as a voice softly called her name, yanking her thoughts back to the present. She turned to find her boyfriend standing a few feet behind her, holding two plates loaded with food. The look of concern in his gaze was one she’d come to expect, as he worried over her as much as she worried about those nine photos. He’d hardly let her out of his sight since the day the pictures were delivered, even riding along with her as she worked her part-time job for Geraldine’s Fine Florist, once he’d realized he couldn’t convince her to take some sort of extended vacation or quit altogether.
The party for Diana Lynch’s nineteenth birthday was in full swing as the sun faded from view in the distant horizon. Officially hosted by Honey Wheeler at her family’s country estate, the celebration had filled the expansive gardens of the Manor House with guests of all ages. Trixie thought it would be fair to say almost everyone she knew in the town of Sleepyside had turned up. There were others, such as Di’s uncle from Arizona, in attendance as well.
She walked down a wide brick pathway to claim one of the small, white iron tables that surrounded the Wheelers’ seldom used swimming pool, Regan a few steps behind her. As he set down their plates, Dan Mangan joined them, grinning broadly.
“So, I’ve been thinking,” he announced, and Trixie knew his overly jovial attitude was due at least in part to his determined efforts to cheer her up.
“Really? Thinking?” she said slowly, brows raised. “Maybe you’d better sit down, then? Before you hurt yourself?”
“Ha! No. Seriously. You two. What should we call you now? Trilliam? Bixie?”
Regan pulled out a chair for Trixie with one hand. With the other, he reached over and gave his nephew a light shove. Dan tumbled backward into the pool, letting out a startled shout and splashing down among a set of colorful floating candles. He came up sputtering and wiping the water from his eyes.
It was the first time in days that Trixie found herself laughing. She bent down as Dan paddled his way to the pool’s edge. “I think ‘Trixie’ and ‘Uncle Bill’ will work just fine for you, Watchdog,” she told him.
He held up one hand, but she straightened and backed away. “Aren’t you gonna help me out?” he demanded.
“Are you kidding? And let you pull me down in there with you? Not a chance!”
“Don’t look at me,” Regan added. “If you ever utter the word ‘Bixie’ again, I might arrange for some sort of ‘riding accident.’”
Dan hoisted himself up and climbed to his feet. He stood over their table and shook his head hard, sending droplets flying.
Trixie rolled her eyes and slid her plate further away from him. “I’ll bet you always thought we call him ‘Watchdog,’ because he looks after us,” she said to Regan, nodding in Dan’s direction. “Now you know the truth. It’s the ‘dog’ part that’s important.”
“Bill. Trixie…. Dan?” Matthew Wheeler approached from the south lawn, holding a glass with a bright red liquid and tiny umbrella. He set his drink down as he regarded Dan curiously. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what happened to you?”
“He thought what this party needed was a cannonball,” Trixie replied with a look of wide-eyed innocence. “It was really impressive. Too bad you missed it.”
Dan shot her a sour look, but refrained from correcting her. With a small chuckle, Matt took a seat at their table. “Maybe we can get up a diving contest later. Meanwhile, I was hoping to talk to the three of you, so I’m glad to find you all together.”
“Yes, sir?” Regan asked politely, placing his fork next to his plate and leaning back in his chair.
“I got a call this afternoon that concerns you. Shortly after the fire, I asked some employees to go back into our old files in storage to see if they could find anything at all related to your parents. They came up with an emergency contact page your father once filled out. There was a name on it, of a man listed as his uncle.”
Regan stilled. He hadn’t yet decided whether or not he could completely forgive his boss for the way he'd kept his relationship with the Regan family a secret for so long. And while he was desperate for any bit of information Mr. Wheeler could pass on, it still rankled some to talk about it.
“Now, I didn’t say anything right away,” Matt continued, “because I didn’t want to get up any hopes. The address listed wasn’t current. I hired a PI from the city and he managed to track this uncle down. Unfortunately, he died shortly before your parents. The details were sketchy, but I’m sorry to tell you that it appears he committed suicide.”
Trixie frowned and leaned forward to wrap her fingers around Regan’s. She knew how much he wanted to know more about his family and how much it hurt to learn of another relative who was long dead. He swallowed hard, but remained silent.
“But there’s an aunt. Your great-aunt by marriage. She’s still alive. She lives upstate. From what the PI was able to gather, she’s a recluse. She doesn’t go out and doesn’t take visitors except a few locals who bring her groceries and look after her small property.” Matt reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded slip of paper. He held it out to Regan. “This is her address. There’s a phone number, but she doesn’t seem to ever answer any calls.”
Regan accepted the note. He didn’t recognize the name of the town listed and the name of his great-aunt, Mairéad Regan, meant nothing to him, either. He showed the note to Dan. “Did your mom ever mention an Aunt Mairéad?”
Dan’s brow furrowed as he studied the paper. “I… I kinda want to say I remember my mom sometimes talking about an old woman we were related to who lived somewhere isolated and never talked to anyone in the family. In fact, I think she even once tried to locate her, when she was trying to find you after you ran away.”
Trixie fished her cell phone from her pocket and looked at Regan expectantly. “You want to try calling her?”
After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded. “I don’t know exactly what I’m going to say, though… If she answers.”
Trixie counted thirteen rings before hanging up. “Okay. I guess I didn’t really expect that to work,” she admitted. “So. Do you guys want to take a small road trip?”
“How far away is Parson’s Mill?” Regan asked. “I’ve never even heard of it.”
“It’s almost a five hour drive north,” Matt replied. “It’s pretty close to the Canadian border.”
Trixie glanced at her watch. “If we left now, that would put us there sometime after midnight. We couldn’t barge in on her that late, but we could find a motel somewhere and then visit her in the morning.”
“Or we could just leave in the morning,” Dan suggested dryly. “Not that I don’t appreciate your willingness to race on up there and find our long-lost aunt, but I think putting it off for one night and not ditching Di’s party would probably be a good idea.”
Trixie felt herself blushing. In truth, she’d half-forgotten the reason they were there in the first place. And while she knew Di would understand if they left early, she realized Dan was right.
“Leaving tomorrow will let me see to a few things and make sure Travis is available to supervise while I’m gone,” Regan said. “If we’re going that far, we might as well plan on spending at least one night up there.”
“Okay. So we’ll leave in the morning,” Trixie agreed. “We should find someone to watch Clyde, too. Maybe April would be available. I think Di’s planning on returning to the city tomorrow.”
“I could watch him,” a new voice said. “I like Clyde.”
Trixie turned in her seat and gave her younger brother a narrow-eyed stare. “First of all, you know you can’t have Clyde and Reddy at home at the same time. We’ve tried that. It didn’t work out so well. Second, haven’t we talked about you not listening in on other people’s conversations?”
Bobby held up both hands defensively. “I didn’t mean to. Honest. All I heard was you talking about leaving tomorrow and needing someone to look after Clyde. I only came over here ‘cause Dad wants to talk to you and he asked me to get you.”
Trixie quickly glanced around. While more party guests had gathered at the tables to eat their dinners, she didn’t see her father anywhere. “Where is he?” she asked.
“He’s out front. Talking to Uncle Andrew and some guy.”
“Did he say what he wanted?”
“Yeah. He said he wanted to talk to you.”
“Right.” Trixie pushed back her chair and stood. “I’ll hopefully be right back.”
As she walked away, Bobby trailing behind, Matthew watched her thoughtfully. “How’s she doing? Honey said those pictures someone sent her have her understandably rattled.”
“Those pictures have me rattled,” Regan replied. “It’s pretty clear they were meant as a threat to get her to do whatever it is that someone wants her to do. And no matter what that is, I doubt there’s any way any of us will be able to talk her out of it or stop her.”
Frowning heavily, Dan dropped down in the seat she’d vacated. “There’s always ‘medically induced coma’ or ‘locked up in jail’ as options,” he pointed out with a humorless grin.
“The PI I hired to find your uncle is still on retainer. As is Eric,” Matt told them. “When these ‘instructions’ arrive, I’ll put them to work on it.”
It was really all they could do for the moment, but Regan still felt another pang of alarm as he considered the grim possibilities that circled around the meaning behind the photos. He knew this waiting… this proverbial “holding their breaths on the eve of battle” was wearing Trixie down, and it was doing the same for him. As far as he was concerned, the sooner they knew fully what they were up against, the better.
~~~~~~~~~~
Trixie knew she was interrupting a conversation between her father, her uncle, and their friend, Bill Waite, but she reasoned that as her father had sent for her, he was expecting her to do so. “Dad? Bobby said you needed to talk to me?”
Peter Belden offered his daughter a smile that seemed especially weary to her eyes. “Hey, Princess. Sorry to pull you away from the party, but Bill has some information for you.”
“Oh?”
“If you’ll forgive your parents, Trixie, they looped me in on your situation. We don’t have any proof, of course, but it seems at least probable that the photographs you received were sent by someone in connection with the BCC and Arianna Collins. With your permission, I can file for a restraining order against all employees of the company. It won’t really mean much, considering how dirty these folks play, but at least it will be on record and give you the authority to immediately call the police if anyone calls or approaches you.”
Trixie looked over at her father. “You think I should do this?”
“Yes. We’re trying to take every precaution possible. We’ve installed an alarm at the house, now that we know someone’s been inside, and depending on what happens next, Andy may be taking Bobby, your mother, and Alicia out to Iowa for an extended stay.”
“You could always come with us,” Andrew put in, though he was sure she would decline.
“I can’t leave town for that long,” she said quietly. “Someone wants something from me. If they want it as bad as I think they do, they’d just follow me to Iowa anyway. But, um, yes. I guess go ahead and do the restraining order thing.”
Peter wanted to argue with her, but he knew, in the end, it wouldn’t be of any use. He was both proud of and frustrated with Trixie’s sense of “doing the right thing.” Unfortunately, the “right thing” often proved to not be the safe thing, and that fact terrified him deeply.
“I am going away for a day or two,” she told them after a slight pause. “With Regan and Dan.”
Peter’s expression revealed his surprise. “Regan and Dan? Is something wrong?”
Trixie smiled faintly at that. “You mean is something else wrong?” she responded ruefully. “I don’t think so. Mr. Wheeler managed to locate a great-aunt of theirs. Regan’s dad’s aunt by marriage. She’s apparently some kind of hermit and doesn’t like visitors, but we’re going to go try to see her anyway. She lives up north. In some place called Parson’s Mill.”
“Parson’s Mill?” Andrew echoed. “There’s a place that’s totally off the map. It’s not even really a town. Just a hamlet.”
“But you’ve heard of it? The name didn’t mean anything to us.”
“I drove through there once. Years ago. I doubt the place has changed much, though I suppose that’s possible.”
“Well, we’re gonna leave in the morning. I’m really hoping she’ll see us. Or at least see them. I know how much both of them would like to talk to someone who actually knows more about their family than Dan’s dad.”
“You’ll be careful. Right?”
“Of course, Dad. You know we will. Uncle A? Could I ask you a favor?”
“Sure, Sweetie. What d’ya need?”
“It’s Clyde. We don’t know exactly how long we’ll be gone, but we’re figuring we’ll spend at least one night up there. Do you think you could watch him for us?”
“He’s welcome to stay at my place, but he might get lonely. I’m usually at the diner for at least ten hours a day.”
“I could stay at your place and look after him,” Bobby said, speaking for the first time. “Please, Dad? That would be okay, wouldn’t it?”
“I don’t know, Bobby,” Peter replied doubtfully. “I don’t think I like you being alone at Andy’s while he’s working. Not with Trixie having some new stalker who photographed you sleeping in our house.”
“What if Mart stayed over, too? He wouldn’t mind. I know he wouldn’t.”
“You should ask your brother before you make such assumptions. For that matter, you should ask your uncle before you invite yourself and someone else to stay at his house.”
“It’s all right with me, Pete, as long as Mart does agree to be there, too.”
After a long moment of consideration, Peter finally nodded. “All right, Bobby. But only if Mart goes, too.”
Bobby barely resisted pumping his fist in the air in triumph. Between the alarm installation at the house and the way everyone was keeping a much closer eye on him, his activities had been severely curtailed of late. Even just a day or two out from under the heavy surveillance would be very welcome.
You will be contacted shortly with instructions.
Instructions for what? She couldn’t even begin to guess, but one thing she was sure of. It wouldn’t be good. For a week now, ever since discovering the unmarked envelope propped up against her door, Trixie had spent her days looking over her shoulder and her nights drifting in and out of a restless sleep filled with frightening and unsettling dreams. She suspected this was intentional. Whatever instructions were to come, someone wanted her particularly scared. He’d left her to stew and panic, letting her anxiety eat at her as it grew.
She dreaded the arrival of the instructions, but at the same time, she wished they would come. This waiting was close to overwhelming her completely.
She jumped slightly as a voice softly called her name, yanking her thoughts back to the present. She turned to find her boyfriend standing a few feet behind her, holding two plates loaded with food. The look of concern in his gaze was one she’d come to expect, as he worried over her as much as she worried about those nine photos. He’d hardly let her out of his sight since the day the pictures were delivered, even riding along with her as she worked her part-time job for Geraldine’s Fine Florist, once he’d realized he couldn’t convince her to take some sort of extended vacation or quit altogether.
The party for Diana Lynch’s nineteenth birthday was in full swing as the sun faded from view in the distant horizon. Officially hosted by Honey Wheeler at her family’s country estate, the celebration had filled the expansive gardens of the Manor House with guests of all ages. Trixie thought it would be fair to say almost everyone she knew in the town of Sleepyside had turned up. There were others, such as Di’s uncle from Arizona, in attendance as well.
She walked down a wide brick pathway to claim one of the small, white iron tables that surrounded the Wheelers’ seldom used swimming pool, Regan a few steps behind her. As he set down their plates, Dan Mangan joined them, grinning broadly.
“So, I’ve been thinking,” he announced, and Trixie knew his overly jovial attitude was due at least in part to his determined efforts to cheer her up.
“Really? Thinking?” she said slowly, brows raised. “Maybe you’d better sit down, then? Before you hurt yourself?”
“Ha! No. Seriously. You two. What should we call you now? Trilliam? Bixie?”
Regan pulled out a chair for Trixie with one hand. With the other, he reached over and gave his nephew a light shove. Dan tumbled backward into the pool, letting out a startled shout and splashing down among a set of colorful floating candles. He came up sputtering and wiping the water from his eyes.
It was the first time in days that Trixie found herself laughing. She bent down as Dan paddled his way to the pool’s edge. “I think ‘Trixie’ and ‘Uncle Bill’ will work just fine for you, Watchdog,” she told him.
He held up one hand, but she straightened and backed away. “Aren’t you gonna help me out?” he demanded.
“Are you kidding? And let you pull me down in there with you? Not a chance!”
“Don’t look at me,” Regan added. “If you ever utter the word ‘Bixie’ again, I might arrange for some sort of ‘riding accident.’”
Dan hoisted himself up and climbed to his feet. He stood over their table and shook his head hard, sending droplets flying.
Trixie rolled her eyes and slid her plate further away from him. “I’ll bet you always thought we call him ‘Watchdog,’ because he looks after us,” she said to Regan, nodding in Dan’s direction. “Now you know the truth. It’s the ‘dog’ part that’s important.”
“Bill. Trixie…. Dan?” Matthew Wheeler approached from the south lawn, holding a glass with a bright red liquid and tiny umbrella. He set his drink down as he regarded Dan curiously. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what happened to you?”
“He thought what this party needed was a cannonball,” Trixie replied with a look of wide-eyed innocence. “It was really impressive. Too bad you missed it.”
Dan shot her a sour look, but refrained from correcting her. With a small chuckle, Matt took a seat at their table. “Maybe we can get up a diving contest later. Meanwhile, I was hoping to talk to the three of you, so I’m glad to find you all together.”
“Yes, sir?” Regan asked politely, placing his fork next to his plate and leaning back in his chair.
“I got a call this afternoon that concerns you. Shortly after the fire, I asked some employees to go back into our old files in storage to see if they could find anything at all related to your parents. They came up with an emergency contact page your father once filled out. There was a name on it, of a man listed as his uncle.”
Regan stilled. He hadn’t yet decided whether or not he could completely forgive his boss for the way he'd kept his relationship with the Regan family a secret for so long. And while he was desperate for any bit of information Mr. Wheeler could pass on, it still rankled some to talk about it.
“Now, I didn’t say anything right away,” Matt continued, “because I didn’t want to get up any hopes. The address listed wasn’t current. I hired a PI from the city and he managed to track this uncle down. Unfortunately, he died shortly before your parents. The details were sketchy, but I’m sorry to tell you that it appears he committed suicide.”
Trixie frowned and leaned forward to wrap her fingers around Regan’s. She knew how much he wanted to know more about his family and how much it hurt to learn of another relative who was long dead. He swallowed hard, but remained silent.
“But there’s an aunt. Your great-aunt by marriage. She’s still alive. She lives upstate. From what the PI was able to gather, she’s a recluse. She doesn’t go out and doesn’t take visitors except a few locals who bring her groceries and look after her small property.” Matt reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded slip of paper. He held it out to Regan. “This is her address. There’s a phone number, but she doesn’t seem to ever answer any calls.”
Regan accepted the note. He didn’t recognize the name of the town listed and the name of his great-aunt, Mairéad Regan, meant nothing to him, either. He showed the note to Dan. “Did your mom ever mention an Aunt Mairéad?”
Dan’s brow furrowed as he studied the paper. “I… I kinda want to say I remember my mom sometimes talking about an old woman we were related to who lived somewhere isolated and never talked to anyone in the family. In fact, I think she even once tried to locate her, when she was trying to find you after you ran away.”
Trixie fished her cell phone from her pocket and looked at Regan expectantly. “You want to try calling her?”
After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded. “I don’t know exactly what I’m going to say, though… If she answers.”
Trixie counted thirteen rings before hanging up. “Okay. I guess I didn’t really expect that to work,” she admitted. “So. Do you guys want to take a small road trip?”
“How far away is Parson’s Mill?” Regan asked. “I’ve never even heard of it.”
“It’s almost a five hour drive north,” Matt replied. “It’s pretty close to the Canadian border.”
Trixie glanced at her watch. “If we left now, that would put us there sometime after midnight. We couldn’t barge in on her that late, but we could find a motel somewhere and then visit her in the morning.”
“Or we could just leave in the morning,” Dan suggested dryly. “Not that I don’t appreciate your willingness to race on up there and find our long-lost aunt, but I think putting it off for one night and not ditching Di’s party would probably be a good idea.”
Trixie felt herself blushing. In truth, she’d half-forgotten the reason they were there in the first place. And while she knew Di would understand if they left early, she realized Dan was right.
“Leaving tomorrow will let me see to a few things and make sure Travis is available to supervise while I’m gone,” Regan said. “If we’re going that far, we might as well plan on spending at least one night up there.”
“Okay. So we’ll leave in the morning,” Trixie agreed. “We should find someone to watch Clyde, too. Maybe April would be available. I think Di’s planning on returning to the city tomorrow.”
“I could watch him,” a new voice said. “I like Clyde.”
Trixie turned in her seat and gave her younger brother a narrow-eyed stare. “First of all, you know you can’t have Clyde and Reddy at home at the same time. We’ve tried that. It didn’t work out so well. Second, haven’t we talked about you not listening in on other people’s conversations?”
Bobby held up both hands defensively. “I didn’t mean to. Honest. All I heard was you talking about leaving tomorrow and needing someone to look after Clyde. I only came over here ‘cause Dad wants to talk to you and he asked me to get you.”
Trixie quickly glanced around. While more party guests had gathered at the tables to eat their dinners, she didn’t see her father anywhere. “Where is he?” she asked.
“He’s out front. Talking to Uncle Andrew and some guy.”
“Did he say what he wanted?”
“Yeah. He said he wanted to talk to you.”
“Right.” Trixie pushed back her chair and stood. “I’ll hopefully be right back.”
As she walked away, Bobby trailing behind, Matthew watched her thoughtfully. “How’s she doing? Honey said those pictures someone sent her have her understandably rattled.”
“Those pictures have me rattled,” Regan replied. “It’s pretty clear they were meant as a threat to get her to do whatever it is that someone wants her to do. And no matter what that is, I doubt there’s any way any of us will be able to talk her out of it or stop her.”
Frowning heavily, Dan dropped down in the seat she’d vacated. “There’s always ‘medically induced coma’ or ‘locked up in jail’ as options,” he pointed out with a humorless grin.
“The PI I hired to find your uncle is still on retainer. As is Eric,” Matt told them. “When these ‘instructions’ arrive, I’ll put them to work on it.”
It was really all they could do for the moment, but Regan still felt another pang of alarm as he considered the grim possibilities that circled around the meaning behind the photos. He knew this waiting… this proverbial “holding their breaths on the eve of battle” was wearing Trixie down, and it was doing the same for him. As far as he was concerned, the sooner they knew fully what they were up against, the better.
~~~~~~~~~~
Trixie knew she was interrupting a conversation between her father, her uncle, and their friend, Bill Waite, but she reasoned that as her father had sent for her, he was expecting her to do so. “Dad? Bobby said you needed to talk to me?”
Peter Belden offered his daughter a smile that seemed especially weary to her eyes. “Hey, Princess. Sorry to pull you away from the party, but Bill has some information for you.”
“Oh?”
“If you’ll forgive your parents, Trixie, they looped me in on your situation. We don’t have any proof, of course, but it seems at least probable that the photographs you received were sent by someone in connection with the BCC and Arianna Collins. With your permission, I can file for a restraining order against all employees of the company. It won’t really mean much, considering how dirty these folks play, but at least it will be on record and give you the authority to immediately call the police if anyone calls or approaches you.”
Trixie looked over at her father. “You think I should do this?”
“Yes. We’re trying to take every precaution possible. We’ve installed an alarm at the house, now that we know someone’s been inside, and depending on what happens next, Andy may be taking Bobby, your mother, and Alicia out to Iowa for an extended stay.”
“You could always come with us,” Andrew put in, though he was sure she would decline.
“I can’t leave town for that long,” she said quietly. “Someone wants something from me. If they want it as bad as I think they do, they’d just follow me to Iowa anyway. But, um, yes. I guess go ahead and do the restraining order thing.”
Peter wanted to argue with her, but he knew, in the end, it wouldn’t be of any use. He was both proud of and frustrated with Trixie’s sense of “doing the right thing.” Unfortunately, the “right thing” often proved to not be the safe thing, and that fact terrified him deeply.
“I am going away for a day or two,” she told them after a slight pause. “With Regan and Dan.”
Peter’s expression revealed his surprise. “Regan and Dan? Is something wrong?”
Trixie smiled faintly at that. “You mean is something else wrong?” she responded ruefully. “I don’t think so. Mr. Wheeler managed to locate a great-aunt of theirs. Regan’s dad’s aunt by marriage. She’s apparently some kind of hermit and doesn’t like visitors, but we’re going to go try to see her anyway. She lives up north. In some place called Parson’s Mill.”
“Parson’s Mill?” Andrew echoed. “There’s a place that’s totally off the map. It’s not even really a town. Just a hamlet.”
“But you’ve heard of it? The name didn’t mean anything to us.”
“I drove through there once. Years ago. I doubt the place has changed much, though I suppose that’s possible.”
“Well, we’re gonna leave in the morning. I’m really hoping she’ll see us. Or at least see them. I know how much both of them would like to talk to someone who actually knows more about their family than Dan’s dad.”
“You’ll be careful. Right?”
“Of course, Dad. You know we will. Uncle A? Could I ask you a favor?”
“Sure, Sweetie. What d’ya need?”
“It’s Clyde. We don’t know exactly how long we’ll be gone, but we’re figuring we’ll spend at least one night up there. Do you think you could watch him for us?”
“He’s welcome to stay at my place, but he might get lonely. I’m usually at the diner for at least ten hours a day.”
“I could stay at your place and look after him,” Bobby said, speaking for the first time. “Please, Dad? That would be okay, wouldn’t it?”
“I don’t know, Bobby,” Peter replied doubtfully. “I don’t think I like you being alone at Andy’s while he’s working. Not with Trixie having some new stalker who photographed you sleeping in our house.”
“What if Mart stayed over, too? He wouldn’t mind. I know he wouldn’t.”
“You should ask your brother before you make such assumptions. For that matter, you should ask your uncle before you invite yourself and someone else to stay at his house.”
“It’s all right with me, Pete, as long as Mart does agree to be there, too.”
After a long moment of consideration, Peter finally nodded. “All right, Bobby. But only if Mart goes, too.”
Bobby barely resisted pumping his fist in the air in triumph. Between the alarm installation at the house and the way everyone was keeping a much closer eye on him, his activities had been severely curtailed of late. Even just a day or two out from under the heavy surveillance would be very welcome.