Chapter 1

Trixie relaxed into Jim’s arm around her shoulder and smiled brightly up at him, looking like she hadn’t a care in the world. Jim smiled back at her. When their eyes met, she mouthed a quick warning. “We are not alone.”

One of Jim’s eyebrows twitched, his only outward show of surprise. He looked around the park, but didn’t see anyone in the immediate vicinity. Still, he trusted his Shamus’ instincts. If she said someone was there, someone was there.

Jim pulled Trixie closer as the two continued to sit on the park bench, acting like the young lovers that they were. Jim watched as Trixie scanned the area in front of them. He noted that she seemed to focus on the group of shrubs that were about 25 feet away from them. Jim watched Trixie’s face as her gaze narrowed, and she examined the shrubs intently. He suddenly felt her body tense up. Jim loosened his hold on Trixie a bit, as she leaned forward slightly in anticipation.

Jim watched Trixie’s expressive face; his Shamus was on the hunt. His lips thinned; anyone who would take advantage of a child deserved what they got. He pretended to nibble on her neck and whispered, “Ten o’clock, I see at least one pair of shoes behind the bush.”

They both watched as a nervous teenager slowly walked towards a bench further down the pathway. The girl pulled at her light brown hair, twirling it around and around her finger. She was slight, probably just in her teens. She wore new jeans and a light pink T-shirt.

Trixie had been called in by an old friend on the force after Allison’s mother had found suspicious emails on her daughter’s computer and phoned the cops. The cops, hamstrung, had phoned the Belden –Wheeler Detective Agency.

After reading the emails, Trixie realized that the perpetrator was pressuring Allison to meet him. At the same time as Trixie was reading Allison’s correspondence, and much to Trixie’s frustration, Allison had agreed to meet the loser. Trixie didn’t have time to set up an official sting. Desperate, Trixie simply grabbed Dan and Jim and filled them in on the way to the park.

Trixie tilted her head and pretended to kiss Jim back, all the while waiting to see if the perpetrator was going to show. She avoided looking at Dan, who was in full drag. He had just gotten off an undercover shift at Lassie’s when she grabbed him.

Trixie waited a few minutes, until Jim’s attention had moved on, and then slowly looked where he had indicated. Jim was right. At least one person was hiding in the bushes, just a few yards from where Allison was sitting.

Trixie laughed and pushed Jim away, stopping his nibbling kisses up and down her neck. “We’re in public, you goof.”

“I don’t stop loving you, just because we’re in public,” Jim retorted, wounded—or he would be if Trixie wasn’t playing a part.

“There are laws against that,” Trixie muttered, “so you’d better cool it, Romeo.” She pulled out her phone, as if to enforce their “cooling” it. She quickly sent a text to Dan. Our 10, at least one in the bushes, Queen Danielle.

She didn’t look at Dan; she couldn’t without laughing. But she didn’t need to look at him to know he was scowling at the phone and her. He had demanded she let him change, but she had insisted there wasn’t time, and he knew it was true.

“He’s checking on it,” Jim whispered.

Trixie nodded, putting her phone away. “Let’s take a walk,” she suggested pleasantly. “Maybe that will cool you off,” she teased.

Allison didn’t react as they drew closer, walking hand-in-hand, but then Allison didn’t know they were here for her. She didn’t think anyone knew she was going to meet the boy of her dreams, a fifteen-year-old soccer player named Sam from a well-to-do family in Jersey, in Central Park.

As they passed the bushes where they’d seen feet, Trixie listened and heard a hushed conversation. “NYPD!” Dan’s voice.

“Okay, when you said New York was way more modern than middle-of-nowhere-up state, I didn’t think you meant they let cross dressers on the police force,” a girl’s voice mumbled quietly. Trixie guessed she was a teenager.

“That’s because it wasn’t what I meant,” a teenage male replied. “How can we help you, officer?”

Trixie slowed down, wanting to hear the rest.

“What are you kids doing back here?” Dan demanded.

There was much stammering and, Trixie suspected, much blushing. She could almost hear Dan roll his eyes. “Get out of here, both of you.” She heard scrambling and assumed they were obeying. As she and Jim continued their walk, she heard Dan add, “And for God’s sake, take her somewhere nicer than a bush in Central Park!”

She glanced up at Jim and saw the smile tugging at his lips. He pulled her against his chest and kissed her deeply. As he pulled away, he whispered, “Someday, I will make sure we find a better place than Central Park,” he promised her.

“Dan will be proud of you,” she giggled as they passed Allison.

Trixie glanced at her watch. It was time. She stiffened as she and Jim passed a forty-year-old man heading in Allison’s direction. Deciding it was her turn to instigate, she pushed Jim against a tree as she kissed him passionately, all the while maneuvering until she had a clear view of Allison.

She broke the kiss when the man continued on past Allison without even a backward glance. “False alarm,” she muttered.

“Geez, Trix,” Jim complained. “I’m not sure how many more ‘false alarms’ like that I can take.”

“Will you two quit making out and focus?” Dan demanded, startling them. Neither one had heard him come up behind them.

“It’s hard to focus with you dressed in that getup,” Trixie replied.

“I wanted to change,” Dan reminded her grumpily.

“Guys. Time for that later; Allison’s on the move.”

Trixie and Dan both turned. Allison was headed toward one of the Park exits. The trio hurried after her, less worried about maintaining their covert roles now that the game had changed. They didn’t have enough backup for all the situations that could arise. Trixie had hoped for a simple park meet-and-snatch. Now they just wanted to get Allison out of there without alerting the perpetrator that they were on to him. Then, they could mount a proper sting for next time.

They were within ten yards of her when she came out of the park. All three of them immediately saw the unmarked van parked next to the entrance. “Oh God,” Jim whispered. “This is really real.”

“It doesn’t get much realer,” Dan agreed grimly.

“Forget protocol,” Trixie muttered. “We have to get her out of here.” She glanced at Dan. He was probably the one who would take the heat for her decision. Dan nodded and Trixie dashed ahead to catch up with Allison. “Allison, you don’t know me, but I know your mother. I know you think you’re here to meet a teenaged soccer player named Sam, but he’s not who he says he is,” Trixie said, rushed.

“Who are you?” Allison demanded, pulling away from her.

“Trixie Belden, PI. Now come on; we have to get you out of here.”

“No!”

“Allison, I’m not kidding. You are in serious danger here; you don’t know who this guy is,” Trixie insisted, grabbing Allison’s arm.

“Let me go!” Allison screamed and chaos broke out.

A teenager appeared on the sidewalk a few yards ahead of them.

“Allison, is that you? It’s me, Sam!”

Three men in dark clothes materialized, surrounding them, guns drawn. “FBI, release the girl!”

“NYPD! Lower your guns; we’re all on the same side,” Dan yelled behind her.

Trixie, startled by the appearance of someone claiming to be Sam—who looked quite a bit like the Sam Allison thought she was meeting—combined with three men pointing guns at her, released Allison and raised her hands. “I’m unarmed,” she assured the agents, deciding it was better to play things safe until they put their weapons away. “I’m a PI. My ID is my back pocket.”

Without lowering his weapon, one man glanced at the agent closest to her. “Cuff her and put her in our car.”

Trixie didn’t resist as the nearest agent quickly handcuffed her and patted her down. She heard a low growl from Jim, who seemed to think the agent was enjoying it a bit too much. She prayed he would hold his jealousy in check and not make an already bad situation worse. She wasn’t under arrest, but he would be, if he did anything rash.

The agent took her wallet, to check out her PI license, before putting her in the back of a car parked a few spaces behind the van. She sighed as the door closed. Allison was safe. That was what mattered. This was going to be one messed up case report, but it would go down as a job well done in her book.

It felt like she waited for an eternity, but her watch, when she twisted around to see it, suggested it hadn’t been more than fifteen minutes. The agent who had put her in the car returned, got in the driver’s seat, and started the car. “Wait,” Trixie protested. “Aren’t you going to let me go?”

“My boss is going to have a few questions for you,” he explained as he pulled out into traffic.

“Do I need a lawyer?” Trixie asked. She was more interested in the information she might glean from the answer than the answer to the question itself. The FBI had driven off with her in handcuffs in their back seat. Jim had no doubt already called Mr. Rainsford, or whomever else Dan might have suggested.

“You’re not under arrest, yet,” the agent reminded her.

“But I am in handcuffs,” she reminded him.

“That happens when you’re deemed a flight risk.”

Trixie was taken to office space in the center of Manhattan. Once they were inside the FBI field office, the agent un-cuffed her.

“Special Agent in Charge Lewis Ogilvie will be with you shortly.”

Trixie nodded, absently rubbing her wrists and thinking hard. She had obviously run afoul of the feds, but how? This wasn’t one of her teenage mysteries where she used to blunder through a mystery without regard for law enforcement. The NYPD had sent Allison’s mother to the BWDA for help with this case. For crying out loud, this was supposed to be a simple case! She jumped as her musings were interrupted.

“Special Agent in Charge, Lewis Ogilvie,” a man introduced himself, startling her. She hadn’t heard him come in.

“Ogilvie?” She echoed. “Any relation to—?”

“Yes, so I’ve been warned about you, Miss Belden,” the agent interrupted. “Let’s get down to business.”

“Not without me,” a voice interrupted. “Lucy Bridges, Rainsford and Partners, to represent Miss Belden.”

Trixie smiled a greeting as the lawyer sat next to her. “And where is Rainsford?”

“Representing Mr. Frayne.”

Trixie nodded. “That’s probably for the best. I imagine Jim’s not feeling very trusting at the moment,” she said with a glare at the Special Agent.

“What were you doing in Central Park, Miss Belden?”

“I was trying to prevent an abduction.”

“If you had credible information, why not call the police?”

“Because they called me with the information?” Trixie retorted. “Allison’s mother…..”

Trixie rolled her eyes when SAC Ogilvie interrupted to ask who “Allison” was.

“The girl who we were attempting to rescue.”

“Go on.”

“Allison’s mother found some emails in her daughter’s account that concerned her. She went to NYPD with them. They didn’t have the resources to chase a crime-to-be, so they kicked it to the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency. When we—my partner, Honey Wheeler, and I,” Trixie clarified when Ogilvie opened his mouth to interrupt her. “When we investigated further, we learned Allison had set up the meet in the park today. There was no time to set up an operation. I grabbed Jim and Dan and headed to the park.”

“Jim and Dan—not your partner.”

“My partner is on a plane to Aruba, with her fiancé, to celebrate the completion of his residency.”

“And in her absence, you thought it wise to attempt to disrupt an abduction with a cop you pulled off an undercover case and a civilian.”

“I didn’t think it was particularly wise, no,” Trixie said. “I did think I had two choices. I could ask Dan and Jim for help, and maybe stop it, or I could do nothing and Allison would certainly be abducted.”

“It never occurred to you that other law enforcement bodies might already have an operation in place that was far better planned than yours?”

“No, it never occurred to me,” Trixie answered honestly. “As I said, NYPD gave me the case. If they had an operation in place, or knew of one, they’d have told me, or just not passed the case along.” Trixie sat back as realization dawned. “That’s what the problem is. You didn’t tell NYPD you were working a case on their turf, so we landed in the middle of your operation.”

“No,” Dan corrected as he walked in and dropped into a chair. “The problem is that, because they didn’t bother to communicate, two operations happened on top of each other and, in the confusion, they lost the girl.”

“Allison’s gone?” Trixie asked incredulous. “How?”

Dan shrugged dejected. “While they were busy slapping handcuffs on me, they forgot to keep eyes on the target. I tried to run after her, and got body-tackled for my ‘escape’ attempt.”

“Tell me Sam didn’t get away,” Trixie begged, unable to believe everything had gone so wrong. Allison had been right there beside her.

“No, they’ve got him in the other room, for all the good it will do.”

“He must know where she’s been taken—he’s clearly complicit,” the special agent pointed out.

Dan rolled his eyes. “And he is never going to tell you, at least not with your boys going at him like he’s a perp. That boy is a victim—he’s been abused. Probably by the same pedophile that your men let grab Allison. So instead they have the glory of bringing the cop and PI who were trying to rescue her.”

“My men obeyed protocol.”

“Right up to the part where the four people you have in custody are innocent, the guilty man is free, and the girl you were trying to protect got abducted from within a circle of your men. If that’s ‘obeying protocol’, you need to rethink your protocol,” Dan challenged. “So, Trixie, Jim, and I will be leaving now and don’t think you can blame this screw up on us, or the NYPD.”

Chapter 2

“I don’t think so, Mr. Mangan. Or is that Ms. Mangan?” A tall, curly haired, red headed woman strode into the room. “My name is Joanne St. Clair.” She fought back the impulse to blush as she looked at the handsome, black-haired cop. “Mr. Mangan, I have spoken with your supervisor. He’s not pleased, but he has released you to work with my team and me. Time is of the essence and we need to find Allison.” Jo continued to stare at the handsome, dark-haired cop, still willing herself not to blush. Even in drag, Dan was a fine looking man. She turned to face Trixie. “You, too, Ms. Belden.” She didn’t turn around to see who had entered the room, but when she heard the door click shut, she knew one of her men had escorted Mr. Frayne into the room as directed, so she added, “And you, Mr. Frayne.”

“Why should the FBI get the lead?” Trixie demanded, interrupting the staring contest between Dan and Jo. “Your people let Allison get captured. It was your agents who hauled us in here, and it’s your agents who messed up by not contacting the NYPD about a case in their jurisdiction.”

Ignoring Ogilvie’s sputters of indignation, Jo stared at the petite, blond-haired PI. She knew the blonde’s reputation. Many in the field of law enforcement did. Trixie’s escapades were something of a legend, as were the many offers from law enforcement she had received and refused.

“We get the lead because this is far bigger than the little sting you blundered into. It is part of a larger investigation with multiple prongs, both here, in the USA, and in Europe.” Joanne fought back the impulse to fidget as three faces snapped towards her with varying looks of surprise and suspicion.

“What are you saying, Ms. St. Clair?” Trixie demanded. “Am I hearing you saying that you want us to help you with this investigation?”

Joanne St. Clair grimaced as she nodded at Trixie. “I do need your help. This case is about more than just Allison. There is a ring working the eastern seaboard. They may have upwards of thirty girls, and there are half a dozen suspected rings worldwide —that we know about.” She nodded at Trixie’s white face. “We think this ring is almost ready to ship the girls out of the USA. Find Allison, and we could break this case wide open.”

Trixie gave a firm nod. “Alright then, where do we start?”

“Wait a minute,” Jim interrupted as he swung his gaze back to Joanne. “I’m not a cop or a private investigator. I was just helping Trixie with this case, because she didn’t have time to pull together professionals. I don’t think I should be working on this case beyond today.”

“I disagree, Mr. Frayne,” replied Joanne. “We know you are not a cop, but we are aware of the history you have with Ms. Belden and the rest of the ‘Bob Whites’.”

Dan, Trixie, and Jim stared at Joanne.

“How do you know about the Bob Whites?” Trixie asked.

Joanne St. Clair laughed, a loud, bold laugh. “Your exploits are not exactly under-reported. As soon as we had your names, we ran them through the computer and your histories printed themselves out quite neatly for us. Despite what you say, Jim...May I call you Jim?”

Jim nodded at Joanne St. Clair’s request.

“As I was saying,” she continued. “Despite what you say, Jim, you are perfect for this operation. Although, I do admit, we don’t usually use civvies in our undercover operations.”

“Whoa!” Trixie jumped in. “Jim has a point. Besides, none of us have agreed to work this case with you, so don’t get ahead of yourself. You do want the three of us to help you and time is of the utmost importance right?” Trixie paused waiting for Joanne St. Clair to acknowledge what she was saying. When Joanne gave Trixie a nod, Trixie continued. “So, let’s sit down, you tell us what is going on and what part you want us to play in this case. Then we’ll choose to help or not.” Trixie looked at her two friends for confirmation that they were also on board with hearing the woman out. When the two of them gave her the slightest of nods, she turned back to Joanne St. Clair and demanded, “Okay, what’s the whole story?”

“I can’t brief you with civilians in the room.”

Trixie looked puzzled. Joanne had said she wanted Jim’s help as well as hers and Dan’s, hadn’t she?

Joanne nodded her head toward the doorway. Trixie glanced over her shoulder and saw that Mr. Rainsford had followed Jim into the room, and that Lucy Bridges was standing next to him. She’d forgotten about the lawyers in favor of the case.

Mr. Rainsford smiled at her. He was accustomed, by now, to Trixie’s escapades. He then turned his eyes to Jim.

Jim nodded. “I think we’re okay here. They don’t seem to be charging us with anything.”

“Very well, Mr. Frayne,” Mr. Rainsford replied, hoping his formal wording would help remind the FBI agents that Jim, Trixie, and Dan weren’t teenagers anymore, but adults worthy of respect. He and his associate left the room.

Chapter 3

Joanne led the remaining three to a desk in the corner of the room. They all sat down and Joanne began describing the case that was of such importance. “As I said,” she spoke quietly. “This case has prongs both in the U.S. and in Europe. You were correct to assume that Allison was in danger. But you assumed she was meeting one individual who would do her harm. In fact, Allison was going to meet a young man that would earn her trust and then turn her over to a human trafficking ring. Too many girls have disappeared already and we absolutely must break this ring. That’s where you three come in. Trixie you have the innocence that would make our perps discount you, yet you also have enough street smarts to be wary.”

“What do you think Dan and I can do?” Jim asked.

“You and Officer Mangan would make good decoys; you wouldn’t stand out as undercover police officers. However, what we need the most is a woman who can appear to be a teenager, who is willing to make contact with these guys. We can’t risk another teenager after Allison slipped through our net.” Joanne St. Clair leveled her gaze, meeting a pair of sapphire eyes that were beginning to comprehend the assignment presented to her.

“No!” Jim growled.

“Wait a minute, Jim,” Trixie reached out and placed her hand on Jim’s arm. “Let’s just listen to what she has to say.”

“If this woman thinks that I am going to let you make contact with a bunch of lowlifes that want to traffic you, she is out of her mind.”

Dan watched as Joanne St. Clair sat back in her chair and sighed. While Jim and Trixie muttered between each other, Dan catalogued the attributes of the woman sitting next to him. Joanne St. Clair was a woman with a clean complexion and a head full of red curls. She seemed extremely competent and focused on the issue in front of her. Although she was tall, she wasn’t overly tall and she certainly was not a big-boned woman. She appeared to be a woman who kept herself in good shape, whether through running or a gym membership or some other means. She wore small diamond studs on her earlobes and no other jewelry. Her clothing was well made and conservative in nature. As Dan observed the woman, he found his interest in her growing. He was so intent on his observations that he failed to notice that Joanne had again leaned forward to continue her explanation.

A quick glance at Jim’s clenched jaw and narrow eyes told Dan that his friend was not happy with the potential case dropping into their laps. He noticed that Trixie, however, had that familiar glow in her eyes and her curls were quivering as she eagerly listened to Joanne. Dan turned his attention back to the details being outlined to him. As he listened, he couldn’t help but think, oh yeah, this is going to be some case!

“This case needs to move along quickly,” Joanne said. “We have noted that dozens of young people, both male and female, have disappeared over the past few months. The only commonality we have been able to detect is that they all played an online fantasy game and apparently made contact with the traffickers through that online game. Despite numerous attempts to find the addresses of the traffickers, we have not been successful. Either they are extremely clever at covering their tracks or, we fear, they are actually using innocents to trap other innocents. It is very possible that these kids don’t know that they are unwittingly leading others to their doom. Our plan is to set Trixie and Dan up in the gaming room online and begin making contact. We will supply you with your aliases and your bios. Those provided bios are key to garnering the attention of the heads of this ring. Then, we are hoping that there will be an attempt to make contact. That’s where we will be able to make the grab and break up this ring.”

“You make this sound so simple, so polite,” accused Jim. “When in fact, you will be setting Trixie up to be kidnapped and then God knows what. We saw how well you handled Allison.” Jim cast an accusing glare at Joanne.

“You forget that we didn’t plan on having Larry, Curly, and Moe in on this,” Joanne shot back.

“But you are planning on having Larry, Moe, and Curly involved again,” Jim answered angrily. He pushed back his chair and grabbed Trixie’s hand. “We’re not doing this. Find some other lackey,” he ordered.

“Jim, wait,” Trixie pulled Jim back down on his chair. “Joanne has a point. They didn’t expect us to be there. We actually got in their way. If we were all on the same page, then there is a reasonable expectation that there will be a different result.”

Joanne spoke up, “Trixie’s right. I shouldn’t have insulted you. I apologize for that. We are just so frustrated with any lack of movement that we are willing to go outside the Bureau to get this done. I assure you, Jim, we will keep Trixie in our sight at all times.”

“Why don’t I believe that?” Jim muttered.

“Jim,” Trixie whispered. “Let’s just hear her out; then we can talk about it. We don’t have all the information yet.” Trixie softly stroked Jim’s hand while she spoke, in an attempt to soothe her quick-tempered boyfriend. She looked at Joanne. “Continue, but understand, we’re not making any promises yet.”

Jo nodded at Trixie, liking her answer. “What more do you need to know?”

Trixie recognized the challenge as well as the respect behind Jo’s words and she smiled back. “First of all, I’d like to know about all the victims that you know about, their backgrounds, everything. There has to be something, a reason, why they were chosen. They aren’t the only kids playing this game, I trust.”

“We’ve been looking at that; so far all we’ve come up with to link the kids is that they all come from single parent families. There are at least three male ‘Sam’s as far as we can tell. I’ve instructed my men to take over the interview of the ‘Sam’ we have in custody here. I agree with you, Mr. Mangan; he is also a victim. We need to get him to trust us, and then hopefully he can shed more light on where Allison has been taken.”

“Do you have the files here? I’d like to go over them. Some fresh eyes,” Trixie said, nodding at Jim and Dan, “might make a difference.”

“Of course I have files,” Jo answered before gesturing towards the large ‘window’ in the room.

Trixie glanced at the window, knowing there would be other officers on the other side, watching and listening to everything that was happening.

While Joanne waited for the files to be delivered, she smiled at the guests. “I need more coffee. Can I get anything for any of you?”

“A glass of water would be great,” Dan offered, noticing Jim and Trixie were deep into an eye conversation.

Joanne nodded, getting to her feet and leaving the room swiftly. Dan leaned back in his seat. Jim and Trixie would need to get some things settled before they’d make any progress on the case; this would be the best chance they’d have to talk for some time, if he had to guess.

“I … I don’t know if I can be part of this,” Jim was saying. “I’m sorry, but I just—”

Dan nodded sympathetically. “It’s going to be a hard case, Jim. We all know the possibilities for what happens to these kids, and none of them are pretty.”

Trixie reached out a hand and squeezed Jim’s large freckled one. “You don’t have to be involved, if you don’t want to. Even Joanne can’t force you to be part of the operation. She can insist that you don’t repeat any of what you’ve heard—classified, you know—but she can’t force any of us to work this case.”

“But you want to. Even knowing the dangers. She’s planning to dangle you out to the same guys that took Allison, hoping they’ll want to sell you to someone who won’t see beyond your beautiful body. And you’re going to go, meet them, and trust Joanne’s people to keep them from succeeding.”

“Jim, if I don’t do this, they won’t find Allison before she’s shipped overseas. I can’t tell her mother we screwed this up and her daughter’s gone.” Trixie looked up, seeing Joanne re-enter the room, along with Agent Ogilvie carrying a stack of files. “We can talk more tonight, but yes, I plan to be part of this case. If you don’t care to be part of it, Joanne will most likely prefer that you leave before we get into the files.”

Jim considered, before deciding, as he had in most of Trixie’s previous mysteries, that at least if he went along for the ride, there was a chance he’d be in the right place to rescue her if she got in too deep. “I’ll stay,” he told Trixie.

She smiled gratefully. “What do we have here?” She asked as Joanne and Agent Ogilvie set the stack of folders and waters before the three of them.

“Case notes. Everything we know about the kidnappers’ methods,” Joanne said, indicating the first file folder. “The rest are victim profiles.”

“So many,” Trixie murmured.

“Too many,” Dan replied grimly. “Let’s get to work.”

Joanne bit her lip. “Um, we have time for you to change if you want to, Mr. Mangan.”

Dan flashed her a wicked grin. “Now don’t tell me you’re uncomfortable with a man in drag, Joey. After all, you’re a big bad fed. Surely you’ve seen stranger sights than the likes of me.”

Joanne’s head snapped up. “I was thinking of the time we are going to be spending on the case, Mr. Mangan,” she snapped. Her grey eyes grew stormy. “I’ve firsthand knowledge of how uncomfortable hose and a dress are to wear while working, thank you very much.”

“I’m sorry,” Dan’s voice was rueful. “I’ve had a bellyful of teasing at work, Ms. St Clair. Between that and working undercover, I think I have forgotten that people can be nice for the sake of being nice.”

Her gaze softened. “What’s easier for you? Do you want clothing from your apartment? Or we could comp you and pick some stuff up from the stores.”

Dan flushed as he noticed the sudden silence as Jim and Trixie had broken off their conversation to follow his.

“Stores would be faster,” he muttered. Thankful once again that he had his father’s darker complexion and not the fair one that his mother and uncle had, he avoided Trixie’s sharp eyes only to meet Jim’s amused green ones. Strangely enough, they were sympathetic.

“So what’s the percentage of male victims to female?” Jim said, breaking up the strange silence.

Joanne paused. “About two guys to every ten girls,” she said. Turning back to her assistant, she requested clothing for Dan. Not pausing to consult Dan, she rattled off sizes and color preference. Turning, she noticed their raised eyebrows and amused expressions.

“It’s not what you think,” she said in a huff. “I’ve five younger brothers and every one of them is as helpless as a baby when it comes to buying for themselves.”

Trixie’s eyes danced with laughter. “Hey, I believe you.”

Meanwhile, Jim rifled through the file folders, knowing his training as a psychologist would be helpful. As they began to sort through the teens’ stories, Trixie drifted over, her eyes darkening as she noticed what he was doing. Silently, she watched as he began to sort through them.

Chapter 4

Trixie began to notice some patterns but kept silent as he continued. The girls were all barely into their teens, still in that awkward coltish stage that most went through. Most were Caucasian, but not all. The boys were all handsome, but young looking for their age, their musculature not that of a full-grown man.

They came from all walks of life; a few were from well-to-do families, many more from the middle class and poor, from large cities to small towns. What they also had in common was their isolation. Most were from single-parent homes. Many carried responsibilities far beyond their years, caring for younger siblings, helping out with expenses by babysitting or having part time jobs. And, as Joanne had said, they all shared a love of role-playing fantasy games.

Jim spoke. “I think Dan or I should speak to Sam,” he said slowly. Trixie’s eyes were wide with compassion as she held his hand in hers. She had wondered if he would notice what she had. All of the male vitims who had been kidnapped had suspicious medical records, most from multiple clinics. Several of the boys had been removed from their homes multiple times, only to be returned time and again to the same sad situations.

“Are you sure, Jim? I don’t want you or Dan to get hurt by this.” Trixie’s voice was soft.

“Yes; Dan and I were two of the lucky ones, Trixie. We need the information that Sam has and we might be the only ones who can get through to him.” He turned to Joanne. “Do they need to have a lawyer or a representative from children’s aid present?”

She nodded, happy her faith in her instincts had proved correct. These Bob Whites had what it took; they would be the key to breaking this case wide open. “We called in a social worker from children’s aid who has experience with traumatized kids. She’s young but she has an excellent record.” She dimpled. “Does the name Hallie Belden mean anything to you?”

Joanne noted the differing reactions. Trixie just shook her head and sighed. Jim’s chuckle rumbled to life and then filled the room. Dan just groaned and banged his head on the table. Perfect, just perfect. He had finally met a woman who interested him, only his ex-fiancé turned up and now he had to work with both of them.

Joanne turned to the doorway as a striking dark haired woman strolled in. Hallie Belden had the height that had so bedeviled her shorter, curvier cousin. At five eleven, she looked more like a model than a gifted social worker. Her dark blue-black eyes widened and her smile curved. “Why, Dan, fancy meeting you here and it looks like you dressed up for the occasion.” Her drawl was pronounced, and amused.

Dan manned up and rose. “Hallie,” he muttered as he kissed her cheek.

Joanne, no dummy, eyed them both suspiciously, but the case took precedence over her curiosity, much to her disappointment. “Ms. Belden, I believe you know Trixie and Jim.”

Hallie crossed the room and hugged her cousin. Noting Trixie’s sharp look, she refrained from hugging Jim and instead shook hands with him.

“Hallie, we were just saying that Jim or Dan will be talking with Sam. Were you updated on the situation?”

Hallie’s expression of mischief stopped and she nodded. “I won’t allow him to be re-victimized. I’m his advocate and I’m here for him alone.”

Joanne’s eyes narrowed. “We are trying to rescue over thirty girls and several ‘Sam’s, Hallie. He’s not the only victim.”

“I know; I’ve been briefed on the situation, but this Sam is my first priority. Has he been fed? Does he know his rights to have representation from social services? Have his parents been informed he was found?” She fired off.

Dan’s eyes darkened. “Same old Hallie,” he muttered.

Hallie’s thin face darkened. “Dan, he has rights.” She stepped towards him.

“Not when he might have the answers to an international kidnapping ring,” he snapped back.

“That’s enough!” They both turned as Trixie took charge. “Jim, you and Hallie go see Sam. If Jim can’t get through to him, then Dan can try again later. Joanne, can you have some food delivered? It’s going to be a long night. I want to go over the case notes and we need to go through our profiles, and I need to see what the feds have for me if we, if I, am going to play bait to these sick perverts.”

Joanne hid a smile as everyone did as the petite blond powerhouse commanded, even herself. The woman had charisma and a sense of command that would be the envy of any officer. Although Joanne had complete faith in Trixie’s abilities, she was also concerned that the personalities she had put together would clash so much that the mission could end up being compromised. Time would tell. With a shrug, Joanne turned and went in search of the files that Trixie had requested.

When Joanne returned to the corner desk, a few minutes later, she had her arms loaded with more files. She dropped them onto the desk with a thump and began sorting them into piles.

“This pile consists of the files of the girls who have disappeared. And this pile,” she said as she shoved another group of files to her left, “consists of the files of the boys who have been involved in some capacity. And this,” she said as she held out one thin folder, “will be your new identity, at least in the gaming rooms.”

Trixie looked at the piles, then immediately dug into the files of the missing girls. She poured over the information provided. Looking up at Joanne, Trixie asked, “Do you have a pencil and some paper? I would like to make some notes.”

“Oh Miss Belden, those files contain confidential information and we can’t allow you to copy any of it.”

“Oh, I don’t have any intention of copying any information. I just want to write down some dates, locations. Particularly, where the girls were in the game that they were playing when they disappeared.”

“Do you have any ideas?” asked Joanne as she sat down next to Trixie, eager to hear the young woman’s thoughts.

“Not yet. But all the girls had achieved a certain level in the game. The level indicates a substantial amount of time spent on the game. None of the girls were new to the on-line game. Besides, often the longer you play a game, the more relaxed you become. It’s easy for teens to become open to exchanging information with total strangers because you now view them as friends and allies. If I am going to have any success with this case, I will need to start playing this game ASAP. Oh gleeps, I will probably have to play it round the clock.”

“Gleeps?” Joanne questioned.

“Yes, it is a quaint phrase that my cousin is so fond of using,” answered Hallie, who had walked up on the two women and had overheard their conversation.

Trixie looked up at Hallie, her gaze narrow and her mouth in a straight line. She opened her mouth to snap at Hallie, but changed her mind when she realized that her retort would be very unprofessional.

Joanne turned around and found herself standing eye-to-eye with the cousin. “Hallie,” she murmured. “Have you and Jim met with Sam yet?”

“Yes, Joanne. I sat with my client while Jim attempted to talk with him. It wasn’t very successful. Are you sure you want somebody who isn’t trained in this to be involved?”

“Hallie,” Trixie’s eyes darkened, “you know very well that Jim can relate to these kids without even trying. His caring and kindness shows through, no matter what they talk about. Maybe you’re the one who can’t relate to Sam.” Trixie immediately regretted letting her cousin get the best of her, but she also could not tolerate Hallie’s attempt to debase Jim.

“Well, I can see that you still have those damned blinders on where your bevy is concerned,” sniped Hallie.

Trixie saw the anger on Hallie’s face; she looked down, avoiding her cousin’s eyes. I don’t know what happened to Hallie, but she is one unhappy person. I really don’t want to be around her, but I have no choice. I have to force myself to stay focused on the case and let Hallie’s remarks about me, or anybody, just bounce off. If I can’t work with her, then this case is in jeopardy. With this resolve in place, Trixie looked up at Halle and Joanne, but only addressed Joanne.

“Do you have someplace where we can get this online game set up and get me into it? I need to work through it to see where contact is made between players.”

“Yes, Trixie. We have it set up in an office down the hall. Do you want to finish the files first?”

“Yeah; I need to read about the others then work on getting my identity down. I can’t afford to say anything in that game room that might mess up the case.” Trixie returned to her studying of the files while Joanne went to check on the set up of the game. Hallie continued to stand watch over Trixie, hoping for another outburst from her cousin and secretly hating herself for being so petty.

However, Trixie was immersed in the files and no other conversation occurred. Hallie soon became bored with watching Trixie and wandered over to another table, where Dan sat, busily reading files on the male kidnapping victims. Hallie stood behind Dan, hesitant to engage him in a conversation and yet wanting desperately to talk with him. She watched his fists flexed and un-flexed. She noticed the agitated tapping of his foot against the scuffed floor beneath him. Without realizing it, Hallie gave a loud sigh. Dan’s head snapped up. His dark brown eyes met hers. Their stares held each other briefly and then Dan returned his attention to the files in front of him. Hallie cleared her throat and stepped into Dan’s line of vision.

“So Dan,” she began. “How are you doing? What’s new with you?”

Dan looked up at Hallie, his gaze closed and guarded. “Did you need something Hallie? Is there something I need to know about the case?”

“No, I just thought we could visit a bit.”

“Hallie, this is a very serious situation here. I don’t have the time or the inclination to visit with you. Unless you have something to add that would be pertinent, we have nothing to discuss.” Dan returned his focus to the files and Hallie felt the sting of his immediate dismissal of her. She stood by Dan for a few more minutes before wandering off to a more private part of the room where she could assess her own feelings of suddenly being thrust into a case that involved three of the Bob-Whites that she had hurt the most.

Chapter 5

Jim knew he should feel guilty about ditching Hallie. The missing girls, and all the other ‘Sam’s, not to mention what this one had been through, made him willing to try. He walked back into the interrogation room with two glasses of water. “Here, drink some water,” Jim advised, setting one of the glasses in front of Sam.

Jim sat back down near the nervous teen. “Do you want me to fetch the child’s advocate, or can we talk, just a friendly chat?”

“The who?”

Jim smiled, thinking of how hard Hallie would scowl that anyone, even a child, didn’t know the importance of her profession. “The woman who was in here before.”

Sam shrugged. “She’s nothing to me,” he pointed out. “But I don’t want to talk about what happened earlier.”

“Okay,” Jim agreed. “We won’t talk about today then. Can you tell me about yourself?”

“Depends. You going to tell me about yourself?”

“Sure; that sounds fair. Why don’t I go first? My full name is James Winthrop Frayne the Second. I was born in Rochester, New York. Everyone calls me Jim, though.”

“Samuel Matthew Greer, born in Trenton, New Jersey.”

“As a kid, my dad was my hero. My favorite thing to do was ride our big black horse, Blackie.”

“I was a batman kid,” Sam admitted. “I grew up on the PS2. It’s a gaming console, you know, something you play video games on.”

Jim laughed. “I’m not that much older than you, Sam.”

“At least twice my age,” Sam guessed, smirking.

Jim did the math quickly, not liking the idea that that could be true. “Not quite,” he replied, relieved.

“But you weren’t sure, right off,” Sam taunted.

Jim scowled. His mind searched for other information he could give up that would help him draw out useful information from the boy.

Hallie looked up when Joanne returned to the room. Dan was still there, on his side of the room, his head buried in the files. Trixie was standing to stretch, her eyes still on the paper she’d been reading.

“Where is Jim?” Hallie thought to ask.

“Talking to Sam, I’m sure,” Trixie answered.

Hallie shook her head. “No, I told you both we didn’t get anywhere. He left when I did.”

“And Jim didn’t show up at Trixie’s side,” Dan pointed out, still reading. “There are few things in this world that Jim would consider more important than being at Trixie’s side. Especially if she’s involving herself in another dangerous mystery. He’s with Sam.”

“Then anything he’s getting is inadmissible. The boy’s a minor; he has a right to have an advocate present.” Her tone was sharp with displeasure.

“Jim’s not worried about admissibility,” Trixie replied, gathering her notes. “He won’t get anything worth the court’s time today. But he’ll get useful information out of Sam eventually, because Sam will trust him. Jim wouldn’t give up in five minutes, even if you do.”

She turned from Hallie to Joanne. “I know my cover now. You said the game is set up in another room?” Joanne nodded. “When Jim wanders in here, let him know where I am,” she requested of Dan. He nodded absently and Trixie followed Joanne to the other room.

Trixie lost herself in the game, trying to keep track of all the other players she came into contact with, knowing some of them would eventually try to lure her into an ill-fated meeting. She grew tired, but refused to allow herself any breaks. She knew she would never be able to face Allison’s mother if she failed to bring Allison home.

She was so focused that she jumped when gentle fingers ran up the side of her neck. “Sorry,” Jim said quietly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She smiled up at him. “I’ve been focused,” she admitted.

“Me too. Are you ready to call it a night?”

Trixie shook her head. “I can’t, Jim. We lost Allison. I can’t face her mother unless I’ve done everything in my power to bring her home safe.”

“We’re all going to do everything we can,” Jim agreed, “But, Trixie, it’s after midnight. You’ve been at it for more than six hours already. You need to eat, and sleep, too.”

“I can’t,” Trixie repeated.

“Frayne’s right,” Joanne said from the doorway. “Belden, you’re supposed to be a teenage girl with younger brothers. They’ll get suspicious if you play at all hours. Yes, you’ll have to play a lot to reach the higher levels, and we’re short on time, but we can’t get ahead of ourselves, either. Go home. Eat. Sleep. Shower. Tomorrow will come soon enough.”

Reluctantly, Trixie finished her session of game play and logged out. Jim pulled her up and then hung onto her while she worked blood back into legs that had long since gone stiff. “You have to remember to take breaks to stretch, look at something else. Trix, you have to take care of yourself, if you’re going to last long enough to do any good.”

Trixie hung her head. She knew that; but these were human traffickers. She knew what would happen to Allison and all the others if they weren’t rescued. She had to give it everything she had, and more, if that’s what it took. “What about Dan and Hallie?” She thought to ask as Jim walked her through the hallways to the street.

“Dan went back to the precinct or his apartment—maybe both; I’m not sure. Hallie went with the agents and Sam back to the safe house. She was livid that I’d ducked her to talk to Sam. She didn’t want a real federal agent pulling one over on her, so she insisted on sticking with the boy.”

“Did you get anything out of him?”

“A few smiles. He laughed, once. Nothing that will be of use to you, yet.”

“It’s a start. Jim, I know it must be hard for you, or it will be when he opens up. You can’t tell me the things he’s been through won’t remind you of what you went through. You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do,” Jim said firmly. “When the Wheelers adopted me, a lot of people helped me survive the trauma. Some talked me through it, some listened, and some just offered a shoulder to cry on. Some,” he continued, his gaze becoming intense as he fixed it on her, “some just loved me, even through my worst moments.”

“Jim, I don’t want you to put yourself through hell because you think you owe me something.”

“Exactly. That’s the thing all those people have in common. None of them want anything in return for it, not even thanks. I was lucky, Trixie. Incredibly lucky. Everyone deserves that; I can’t turn my back on Sam. I’ll stick with him, help him through it. God knows I’m no use as far as the law enforcement part of it goes. That’s for you, Dan, and Joanne.”

Trixie decided there was no use arguing with him. Suddenly she thought to wonder how they were getting home. Her car was parked in White Plains at her office, and the last train of the day had already gone. Jim felt her stiffen under his arm, around her shoulders.

“Why go home when we’d both just be trekking back in the morning? I was heading to the penthouse,” he explained.

“Right. That makes sense. Sorry. I’m getting tired.”

“It’s late and we’ve all had a long day. Of course, you’re tired. But food first,” Jim insisted as he used a key to let himself into the apartment building, which had been locked for the night. “There are always some non-perishables in the apartment. I’m not sure what we’ll find.”

Trixie shrugged sleepily as the elevator bore them to the top floor. “Whatever’s there is fine.”

Back at his apartment, Dan sat, finishing the takeout he had grabbed on his way home and trying to avoid the elephant in the room. Of all the advocates in New York, why in God’s name had Joey pulled in Hallie Belden, his former fiancée? He was surprised Hallie had stuck with school long enough to become a social worker. When she had turned up in New York, back when they were both still in school, she had been modeling on the side, taking what every suited her fancy. She was a brat and a high maintenance one at that.

He stared broodingly at the TV. He had stood up for her with the others, trying his best to smooth things out between the volatile cousins. It had worked for a time until Hallie had lied once too often. Dan threw a couch cushion, the one with Sherlock Holmes embroidered on it that Honey had made for him as a joke, at the wall. Enough; the fed was coming to pick him up at eight. Plus he still had to go over his online personality. He was going to begin the online game tomorrow. They needed a backup plan in case their quarry didn’t fall for Trixie’s character online.