Trixie Get Your Gun

Home


Next

Chapter 7: Another Witness

For a moment after Mrs. Travers' outburst, the crew sat silently. Then Nancy took a deep breath and briskly directed everyone to return to practice. The crew took up their positions again and put in another full hour of practice. Soon, the awkward moment with Mrs. Travers seemed to be forgotten.

"Nancy's right, I hardly have time to breathe, much less solve a mystery," Trixie thought as she and two other crewmembers prepared to revolve a large piece of scenery called a 'truck,' which was basically a mobile rostrum or platform. On one side of the truck was the outside of a train car. By revolving the truck, the inside of the train car was presented to the audience. Having accomplished that chore, Trixie rushed to get the right props onstage. The list for this scene included a laundry line, laundry, clothespins, and a primer reading book.

She enjoyed the challenge of the backstage work and the camaraderie of the crew, but it nagged at her that she needed to find a way to investigate the troublemaking as well. Just as practice was adjourning, Trixie saw an opportunity to speak with Del.

"I need someone to help me while I check these battens," Del said.

Trixie volunteered, not knowing what battens were or what she was volunteering for. Del didn't look very happy at the sight of Trixie, but he led her and another student to a spot near center stage. Battens turned out to be a set of floodlights and Del simply needed Trixie and the other student to hold the ladder steady while he climbed up to make sure the lights were secure.

The other crewmember left as Del came down the ladder but Trixie stayed behind. She wasn't sure how to start, but she wanted to find out what else Del might know. She helped him move the ladder over to the side of the stage. He avoided Trixie's eyes and seemed bent on not noticing she was there. One of the crew called out to tell him that a nail was loose on a piece of scenery.

"I'll see to it in just a sec. I left my persuader on that frammus over here!" Del replied.

"You left your what on what?" Trixie asked.

Del picked up a hammer from atop one of the rostra and held it up for Trixie to see. She just looked at him. He relented then and explained. "A frammus is any mechanical thing that you don't know the name of or can't think of the name of at the moment. The hammer is a persuader."

Del walked over to the railing of the scenic porch and hammered one of the nails back in place with a few emphatic knocks. "I'm 'persuading' this nail to stay put."

"I wouldn't argue with you," Trixie said and was rewarded with the first smile she'd seen from Del. Emboldened, she went on. "Del, I know this is touchy, but I was with Mrs. Catania yesterday when the damage to the costumes was discovered," she continued.

Immediately the relaxed expression vanished from Del's face. Nervously he swept his hair back from his forehead.

"I joined the production because Di asked me to. I don't think the destruction was just random mischief. I think Di has been the target," Trixie said.

'"Well, I wouldn't know about that," Del said. He put his hands on his hips, tried to look at Trixie, and then quickly reverted to staring at the floor.

"I'm just trying to help Di and the production, too. To stop this trouble. I noticed that Mrs. Travers' scissors were left on some material and placed on a pile in Mrs. Catania's office. You couldn't miss them," Trixie said. "Did Mr. Reed mention that or did you see that when you were there?"

"I didn't see anything," Del said. "Not until Mrs. Catania called me and Jeff and Tony into her office. Mr. Reed is asking all the questions of my friends and me. And we don't know anything," his tone had turned sullen again.

"I think Nancy and Mrs. Catania believe you," Trixie said.

"Yes, but it's hard to clear my name," Del said. "Because I let Tony and Jeff in, Mr. Reed is convinced that we did it, they did it, or something. I've worked for two years on these plays and now all of a sudden, I'm a suspect!" In frustration Del hit the hammer - the persuader, Trixie recalled - on some scenic railing.

"What time did you let Tony and Jeff in?" Trixie asked.

"Between home room and first period. I hooked up with them at our lockers and we went to the prop room. I swear we weren't there for an entire minute," Del exclaimed and his voice took on more feeling. "I let them in. I didn't go in myself, I was checking over my English composition for punctuation errors."

"I know about last minute studying," Trixie said ruefully. "Did you see anyone else coming in or out of the prop room?"

"No." Del replied firmly.

"What about someone who was in that general area who could vouch for you - who might have seen you?"

Del shook his head. "There may have been, but I don't recall."

"Wait a minute," Trixie said. "Doesn't Mr. Barlow, the janitor, regularly stop in the cafeteria for a cup of coffee in the morning? I've seen him sitting there before. Did you see him? Speak to him?"

"No-o-o," Del said slowly. He stared hard at the porch railing and then looked over at Trixie as if a new possibility was dawning. "But I really wasn't looking or paying close attention. I just let Tony and Jeff in and crammed on my English."

"You know, I'll bet it would pay to talk to Mr. Barlow and see if he happened to notice you yesterday. You may not have seen him, but he may well have seen you. He may be able to vouch for the fact that you let the boys in and stayed outside the whole time. And, that none of you were there very long," Trixie said.

Del raised his eyebrows. "I hadn't thought of that," he said. "You could be right. I don't think Mr. Reed has talked to Mr. Barlow about it. I think he's just concentrated on me, Tony and Jeff, our friends and our parents. I'm going to hunt out Mr. Barlow the first thing tomorrow morning, Trixie," Del said. He sounded more energetic and hopeful than at any time since Trixie had known him.

"I'll go with you if you like," Trixie said. "I'm used to being nosy," she laughed.

Del smiled and agreed to meet her outside the cafeteria before Home Room the next day. If Mr. Barlow kept to his usual schedule, they'd be able to question him.

Trixie headed back to the prop room to find Honey. Mrs. Travers was putting away material and giving instructions to Honey. Trixie tried not to be too obvious, but she noticed that Mrs. Travers methodically put away material and patterns, and then carefully put her scissors into what looked like a special pocket in her sewing kit. She said good night and took both the kit and her handbag with her when she left.

"That looked like a routine when she was packing up her sewing kit," Trixie remarked to Honey as the girls gathered their belongings to leave. "She doesn't look the least bit absent-minded to me."

"I don't think she is either," Honey said as the girls walked outside. "But she does have a one-track mind. All she talks about is how talented her Alison is."

"It'll be interesting going to that Valentine's Day party," Trixie said. Then, keeping her voice casual she asked, "Are you doing anything for Valentine's Day? I mean, for any of the Bob-Whites or any of the guys or…anything?"

"I hadn't thought much about it," Honey replied.

"In grade school the entire class gave cards to everyone, but no one does that anymore," Trixie said.

Honey nodded. "I think Miss Trask may have gotten cards for me to give to the other BWG's. Not mushy, God forbid. Just good wishes for fellow Bob-Whites."

Tom Delanoy was waiting in the limo and the girls climbed into the back seat. While Tom and Honey chatted about the day's events at the Manor House, Trixie stared out the window. She wasn't going to get Valentine's cards for her brothers, that was for sure. At 13 she didn't date. The Bob-Whites' activities were always as a group. She and Jim sometimes paired off when on group outings, but nothing so definite as "boyfriend-girlfriend."

"I'd feel too weird to get a card for Jim if he doesn't get one for me," she thought. Trixie longed to ask Honey what was the right thing to do, but felt too embarrassed to ask her best friend what and whether to get said best friend's brother for Valentine's Day.

"And just last summer Honey and I were fighting over whose family would adopt Jim," Trixie thought wryly. But she realized, with a start, that she'd discarded the notion of Jim as a brother a long time ago. Friend, boyfriend, maybe, but not brother. "I wonder how he thinks of me," she frowned out at the darkness.

"Don't you think so, Trixie?" Honey's voice interrupted Trixie's reverie.

"Um, what?" Trixie asked.

"That Nancy Norland is managing very well considering all of the distractions," Honey said, looking curiously at her.

"Oh, right," Trixie shifted on the leather seat. "She's very efficient. Sort of Miss Trask, Junior."

Honey laughed gaily and continued to tell Tom about the preparations for the musical. Trixie returned to her thoughts. Now that she thought of it, she remembered that she had some pictures of Patch, Jim's cocker spaniel. She'd been taking pictures one afternoon while the Bob-Whites played in the snow on the Manor House grounds. One picture, she recalled, was particularly good, with Patch sitting alertly, one paw in Jim's hand, his black coat - Patch's that is -- shining against the white snow.

"I could get a 4X6 print made and an inexpensive frame," she thought. That seemed to be a harmless, friendly gesture. "I'll have to remember to ask Moms to get me a frame."

When Tom let her out Trixie hurried up the steps to Crabapple Farm.

"Here comes Crabapple Farm's very own 'Sure Shot,'" Mart greeted her in the living room, forming make-believe guns with his fists and pointing them at Trixie.

"Sure Shot!" Bobby echoed. "Pow! Pow!"

"What?" Trixie asked, setting her books on the entry table and hanging up her coat.

"We've been anticipating and paying homage to Sleepyside's amateur theatrical production by reviewing a video of the movie version of Annie Get Your Gun," Mart explained. "Have you been laboring behind the scenes, but not taking in the show itself, little sib? Because otherwise you would know that 'Little Sure Shot' is the appellation Sleeping Bull, chief of the Sioux, bestows on the heroine, Annie Oakley," Mart watched carefully as Trixie yawned and rubbed her eyes. "I take back the 'Sure Shot' moniker. You don't look like you could hit the broad side of a barn."

"The only sure shot I'm likely to make is from here to my bedroom," Trixie agreed.

"Not so fast. There's no rest for the weary, Little Sure Not. You have an appointment with a sink full of pots and pans. The eldest and ever helpful Belden sibling, Brian, has been scrubbing them but he, doubtless, will be seeking imminent relief."

As Mart spoke the kitchen door swung open and Brian emerged holding a wet dishrag. "You take over, from here, Trix," he called, holding up the rag. "I set the table and helped Moms with the salad. You can finish the cleanup."

Sighing, Trixie headed toward the kitchen and took the dishrag. Brian followed her and heated some apple cider while Trixie went to work on the pots and pans. As she scoured and Brian waited for the apple cider to heat up, Trixie told him about her day.

"So, Mrs. Travers is not one to leave her scissors lying around and Del is defensive and doesn't seem to know much," Brian summarized, pouring cider in a mug.

"It didn't sound like much, does it?" Trixie asked as she stared at a particularly discouraging stain.

"You've got to start somewhere. And, you may have uncovered another witness. If Mr. Barlow saw anything, that could be meaningful," Brian blew on his cider and took a sip. "Carry on," he held up his mug in a mock salute and left the kitchen.

At Brian's encouragement, Trixie brightened. She finished the cleanup as quickly as she could and hurried up to her own studies. She pulled out her book for her book report but realized that she'd been so tired the night before that she didn't recall what she'd read. She began by reviewing the pages, making a few notes. But soon her eyes were heavy again. The next day was one of those days when neither Mart nor Brian could take her turn riding. Trixie was scheduled to ride early with Honey, before school. She bit her lip, looking at the unread pages. "Well, maybe this weekend," she thought. Exhausted and dreading the morning, Trixie turned out the light.

A few minutes later, or so it seemed to her, the alarm went off. It was still dark out. With a groan she shut off the alarm, hauled herself out of bed, dressed, and headed through the gray morning for the Manor House stables. When she arrived, Honey was leading Susie and Starlight out of their stalls.

The girls headed out onto the trails and let the horses have their heads. After they'd trotted for a while, Trixie and Honey slowed the horses to a walk. The crisp air and the coming of sunrise had wakened Trixie and restored her natural cheerfulness.

"I can't wait to talk to Mr. Barlow. This could be a real breakthrough," she told Honey.

"Jim told me last night that he talked to Alison in Chemistry," Honey replied. "He said she mentioned that she'd had a doctor's appointment. She said she'd been to see Dr. Ferris about a mild fever she's had."

Trixie pulled Susie up short. "There's only one problem with that, Honey," she said. "Dr. Ferris is our family doctor also. And, I guarantee you that he does not have office hours on Monday mornings. That's his day for making rounds and seeing patients at the Sleepyside Rest Home. If Alison says she had an appointment with Dr. Ferris on Monday morning, well, she's lying!"

Chapter 8: The Evidence Mounts

Honey's eyes widened. "Oh, Trixie, do you think there could be some misunderstanding? Maybe he's changed his office hours or worked Alison in or her mother took her to the Rest Home or she saw his nurse instead - or - or-- "Honey searched desperately for an alternative.

"Or, Alison is lying about the doctor's appointment," Trixie said flatly. "There's almost no doubt about that, but we can probably call his office and check for sure."

"I almost don't want to know," Honey wailed.

"We've got to follow the evidence wherever it leads, Honey. If we're going to help Di," Trixie began.

"I want to help Di, but I don't want to hurt Alison," Honey said. "Oh, why can't it just be that silly old theater ghost?!"

"Honey Wheeler, you know it's not a ghost," Trixie said sharply.

Honey grimaced and nodded. The girls fell silent as they finished the horses' morning exercise and hurriedly groomed them. Then Trixie ran home to change clothes for school.

Riding the school bus into town, the Bob-Whites held an impromptu club meeting. Di's voice was returning and she looked rested and relaxed. The Bob-Whites sorted out riding assignments and Mart and Brian volunteered to take posters advertising the musical around to city businesses and ask them to display them in their windows.

"Is there any other business?" Jim asked.

Trixie bit her lip and stayed silent. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Honey looking at her, but Trixie had decided to keep her thoughts about Alison to herself…meanwhile. "Until I have more proof or at least a chance to lay out the case completely."

She hurried from the bus to meet Del just inside the school door. The two headed toward the cafeteria. Sure enough, Mr. Barlow was seated at one of the long tables, his mop and bucket beside him, slowly sipping coffee from a Styrofoam cup. He watched the students hurrying by.

"Mr. Barlow! You're here!" Trixie cried, louder than she meant to.

The man looked up surprised and then frowned. "I'm here every morning, Trixie Belden. So, what?"

"I'm sorry, it's just that we need to ask you about Monday morning," Trixie said. "Were you here drinking coffee on Monday morning about this time?" she asked.

"Like I said, I'm here every morning and if I'm here, I'm drinking coffee…Officer Belden," Mr. Barlow responded with a twinkle in his eye.

Trixie blushed and shuffled her feet, but she pushed on. "Did you see anyone go into the prop room there across the hall?" she asked.

Mr. Barlow thought back. "That was morning before last," he reflected. "Yes, I saw this boy here open the door and a couple of young guys that were with him went in."

"I stayed outside, Mr. Barlow, while they went in," Del said. "Do you recall that?"

"Yes," Mr. Barlow nodded readily. "You were outside with your back to me, inspecting some papers you held up against the wall. Wasn't more than a minute, if that, then those boys came out, said something to you, and you locked up and the three of you tore off. I thought you musta seen a ghost in there," he laughed.

Del bit his lip and shook his head.

"Did you see anyone else, besides Del and his friends, either before or after?" Trixie pressed.

Mr. Barlow looked off in the distance. "Well, now, that lady that's working with the musical, helping with the costumes. She and her daughter came in."

Trixie took a quick breath. "When was that, Mr. Barlow?"

"It was before the first bell for Home Room, before you boys came. The lady was carrying a bunch of costumes, is how I happen to recollect it. They went inside for a few minutes. A few minutes later, I saw the lady come out."

"Just the lady? What about the girl, did she come out?" Trixie asked.

"Well, I didn't see the girl again. Was she in there when you opened up the room?" he asked Del.

Del looked concerned and shook his head.

"How long did you sit here drinking coffee?" Trixie asked.

"I've got plenty of things to do, if that's what you're suggesting," Mr. Barlow started to sound a bit offended.

Trixie shook her head vigorously.

Mr. Barlow grunted and continued. "Well, it wasn't that long. A few minutes maybe after the wardrobe lady came out, the bell rang for home room and I went on to the teacher's lounge and replaced some light bulbs, you know, went on with the day."

"Mr. Barlow, have you told Mr. Reed this?" Trixie asked.

"Why, of course not," he snorted. "Why would I?"

"Mr. Reed is looking into some things related to the musical that may have happened here Monday morning," Trixie said vaguely, not sure if she should tell the janitor about the vandalism. "So, you saw the wardrobe mistress go in and come out and you saw the boys go in and come out, but the girl…

"I never did see that girl come out," Mr. Barlow mused. "But, maybe I wasn't looking, or maybe she came out later," he finished with a shrug.

Just then the first bell rang for Home Room. Del tapped Trixie's shoulder. "We'd better get to class," he said urgently.

"We'll talk to you later, Mr. Barlow. Thanks!" Trixie said and hurried off with Del. They walked as quickly as they could. Breathlessly, Trixie said, "This is great! Mr. Barlow can vouch for you!"

To her surprise, Del didn't look so happy. "I don't know, Trixie. He knows I didn't go inside the room. That part's good. But, I don't know what it will sound like if he tells Mr. Reed that the three of us looked scared."

"Why shouldn't you look scared? Those boys had borrowed those pistols without permission. You knew Mrs. Catania would be reading you the riot act."

Del hesitated. "Mr. Reed may think they did something and I'm covering for them. As a matter of fact, that's about what he thinks right now."

"But Alison was seen going in there and not coming out! If nothing else, it's someone besides the three of you. At least, it's a reason to talk to Alison and her mother," Trixie replied.

Del bit his lip. "I - I, well, I want my name cleared, but I don't want to get Alison in trouble. I just don't know where this is going."

Trixie sighed. Everyone seemed to be protecting Alison. "Del, Mr. Reed should know what Mr. Barlow saw. It may or may not prove anything but he should know about it," she insisted.

Del winced and nodded slightly.

"All Alison has to do is explain where she was and what she was doing," Trixie pointed out. She paused. "Did you see anything or hear anything when you were standing there?"

Del looked down, shook his head. His hair had fallen in his face and Trixie couldn't see his expression. The crowds had thinned out as students headed to class and Trixie had no chance to ask anymore. She said good-by to Del and ducked quickly into her Home Room just as the teacher was calling her name. Trixie called out, "Here,'" grabbed a seat and began to catch her breath.

She thought about what they'd learned from Mr. Barlow. Alison and her mother had been seen delivering the costumes safely on Monday morning. Alison had been seen entering but not leaving the prop room that morning. Del said the boys had not seen Alison in the prop room and, if they'd seen the torn costumes, hadn't mentioned them to him. But Mr. Barlow had seen the boys entering and leaving the prop room and said they had looked scared when they left. What would scare them? Did they see the torn costumes and expect to be blamed for that?

If Alison was still in the prop room when Jeff and Tony entered, she must have been hiding. Trixie turned that thought over in her mind. "Maybe she heard them coming and snuck back stage."

Del's attitude worried Trixie. Did he not want the troublemaker - or troublemakers -- to be found? She had to admit, he had a point that Mr. Barlow's observations didn't necessarily absolve him or his friends. If Tony and Jeff had worked fast, they could have done the damage. "And the silver pistols were under that crumpled newspaper," she recalled.

Mr. Barlow's evidence was tantalizing, but when Trixie met up with Di and Honey for Study Hall later that morning, she found she was reluctant to bring the subject up. It would only upset Honey to know that there was another piece of information pointing toward Alison, even if it wasn't conclusive.

And Di was in such good spirits that Trixie hated to bring up any reminders of the mischief that had been directed at her. The read-through the previous night had gone very smoothly, Di reported.

"Two whole trouble-free days!" she said exultantly. "I can really focus on my character. I'm adding one of your mannerisms, Trixie, from your little scene the other day: dusting my hands on my hips and swinging a leg over a chair."

Trixie nodded and tried to smile casually.

"So, did you and Del talk to Mr. Barlow?" Honey asked.

Trixie hesitated. "Yes, we did."

"Well?! Was he helpful?"

"He wasn't completely definite about some things," Trixie said vaguely. "He did notice that Del didn't go inside the prop room and the other boys weren't in there very long. Del and I are going to tell Mrs. Catania later so she can make sure Mr. Barlow interviews him further." Trixie wanted to move the conversation away from any more details of what she and Del had found out. Luckily, Honey seemed to accept Trixie's sketchy account without question.

When lunch came, Trixie made an excuse to Honey and Di that she needed to see a teacher about an assignment. She stayed behind while they left for the cafeteria. When Di and Honey were out of sight, Trixie went to the school pay phone booth. Once inside she stared at the receiver for a long moment. Then she touched the numbers on the dial pad for Dr. Ferris' office. When her call was answered, she told the receptionist who she was and explained that her mother wanted her to make an appointment for the next Monday.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Ferris doesn't keep office hours on Monday," the receptionist told her in a cool, business-like tone.

"Oh," Trixie closed her eyes for a moment. "Can you tell me, is this an exception or was he in the office last Monday?"

There was a pause on the other end. Then, the receptionist continued. "No-o, the doctor was not here last Monday. As I said, he doesn't keep office hours on Monday. Would you like to schedule for this Tuesday?"

"I'll have to double check with my Moms," Trixie said quickly and hung up. She stood for a moment. Instead of being elated to have uncovered evidence that could help solve the mystery, she was dismayed. Evidence was mounting against Alison and possibly her mother. But exposing it wasn't going to make Trixie any friends.

Previous -- Table of Contents -- Next

Trixie Belden® is a registered trademark of Random House. This page and its author are not affiliated with Western Publishing/Golden Books or Random House in any way. The Lord knows I'm not making any money or profiting in any way from this site, which is intended as a fan's homage. All original text and graphics are copyright © 2003 by js@thesleepysidezone.com.

Design by Sekimori Design. All rights reserved.