Running

Prologue
Wheeler Preserve
Friday, October 12
8:30 p.m.

        The wind was blowing hard as a solitary figure approached the steep bluffs overlooking the scenic Hudson River. Short blond curls whipped back into a solemn face and two sad blue eyes gazed out over the water.

        Trixie shivered as the wind gusted even harder, advent to an approaching autumn storm. The woods of the Wheeler Preserve had been strangely quiet as she had made her way here.

        Trixie couldn't help feeling as if mother nature itself knew of her plans and was helping her. She smiled as a memory of childhood flickered over her. Often when she was smaller she would stand in front of her house and soak in the electricity that permeated the air before an approaching storm. Of course her parents always called her in before the thunder and lightning started.

        What would her parents think now if they knew the truth? They'd be sorry that she'd made a mistake and in time might even forgive, but they'd still be hurt. "Oh, great Belden like this isn't going to hurt them anyway," Trixie whispered.

        No, I can't lose my resolve this is the way it has to be. She wished that she could go back and undo what was done. "I thought he loved me," she mumbled to the increasing wind, "And would marry me." A stab of pain coursed through her heart as she remembered Jim's soft words of rejection. I love you, but I can't marry you now . He'd had a million reasons ready as to why not. His dreams didn't include a family at 19. Why, he had to get his school for needy children up and running first. "Maybe, if I'd told him I was pregnant it would have changed his answer", Trixie mused. No, he'll feel obligated then and do out of a sense of honor and duty rather than love. She knew Jim to well to believe he'd do anything else and she didn't want it that way. It was her fault as much as it was his. One brief moment of indiscretion had left her on the edge of desperation.

        She'd considered all the options weighting them against each other and had decided that running was her only real choice. She couldn't simply leave though, her family and friends would find her eventually, and anyway where would she get the money to live off. So it had come to this, the inevitable.

        Before leaving the house she had ransacked it. She'd taken every cent she could find, in all approximately eight hundred dollars. She could live off of that until she got a job and then she'd invest the rest and make it grow. A new social security card was easy to obtain when you knew how the system worked. It was just amazing what you could do over the phone and on the Internet. Once she left there'd be no turning back because the girl that was would exist no more. That was the plan anyway.

        The rest of the plan was a little more complicated. Over the course of three months of planning she had collected a pint or so of blood. It wasn't that hard to do with a hopeful doctor in the family. She just borrowed some of her brother, Brian's books and all the necessary equipment. Every few days she would take a little bit of her own blood. It was some kind of a miracle that no one had bothered to look in the unused refrigerator in the garage. Trixie had just plugged it in and suddenly it had become her personal blood bank. Of course it wasn't really that easy. There were times when she had held her breath in fear of being caught, when one more step would have brought unanswerable questions. Some how it had never quite come to that; no one had ever found out. The blood she had collected would now serve her faithfully. A pool of blood in the kitchen and a trail as if some heavy body was being dragged away wasn't hard to arrange. Trixie had never imagined that her detective skills would one day be used to create a crime rather than prevent one. After all the time she and her best friend Honey had spent tracking down lawbreakers it just didn't seem right that her natural intuition be put to this use. What was that saying, the one about if you don't use it you lose it? Well in last two years her hometown of Sleepyside might as well have been a ghost town for mysteries, but her instincts hadn't dulled one bit though disuse.

        Trixie slipped out of the house and used the blood sparingly from then on, but the trail though the preserve was clear enough. If the would be rescuers hurried they would make it to the bluffs before the storm broke. She used the rest of the blood to saturate the clothes she had worn most of the day. To the casual observer the knife rip in the shirt would be an extremely tell tale sign and to a professional if would just confuse the issue.

        Her family and friends would grieve, but in time they'd get over it; at least she hoped so. Brian, always the sensible one, he'll feel the pain, but he won't let it in. I remember all the times he's been there for me when I needed help on homework or just a pair of ears to listen to some of the wilder theories I've come up with. My protector, that's what he always thinks he is, guardian of his little sister. Then there's Mart, my almost twin, even though he teases me mercilessly I know he loves me, it'll hurt him. How in the world did I end up with two big brothers who treat me like glass, it's as if they think I'll break at the first good burst of wind. I guess can't leave out Bobby, my baby brother, he's only nine; he'll put the past behind him and go on. Besides he has his whole life in front of him to enjoy and grow up; I'll be an easily forgotten bad dream. Of course there's always Moms and Dad, anchors in a constant fury, they'll be devastated, but there is no other choice. I should think that they would be prepared to accept this since over the years I've faced certain death many times. I'm sure they are starting to get that numb feeling that one day they will wake up and find that I've gotten myself killed. I guess they won't have to worry or wonder when that day will come any more. Most of my friends, the other Bob Whites will get over it. It's amazing how those of us in the club have come together. Dan Mangan, who would have thought that the boy who at first sight appeared to be a rebel against everything would turn out to be such a great friend. I guess I'm just lucky cause he is number three on my lists of adamant protectors. The good thing about Dan is he never laughs at me like Mart does or lectures me like Brian, he just listens to what I have to say and then calmly points out all the really obvious faults in my reasoning so that I can fix them. Dan and Diana are really good friends to have around. Diana may seem to be a spoiled little rich girl at first glance, but I think that she is far from it. Over the last couple of years we have become better friends than I would have thought possible. Hey Honey and I even included her in those last few investigations before things around Sleepyside seemed to get really quiet. Who would have believed that one small town could hold so many mysteries. Well that was back in the days when we Bob Whites still went places together, before our lives took over. Okay I've saved her till last I guess I have to think about Honey. God only knows how my life would have ended up if not for me meeting her. That first summer and that first mystery were the start of the best years of my life. Through thick and thin Honey's practical nature served to keep me from making some colossal mistakes. She was the glue that held our club and our friendships together. She was the one who inadvertently led to me meeting Jim. Not wait I can't go there, not when I am so close. I have to think safer thoughts. We've all been the best of friends for so long that I can hardly remember a time when the Bob Whites haven't been there, nor would I want to. I hope that their lives turn out well, better than the one that I am living now.

        Trixie dropped the blood soaked shirt onto the ground. The short blue sun dress she had on was thin, but it wouldn't be missed because after all Trixie Belden was a tomboy. As she threw the rest of the clothes into the river she tossed out all thoughts of Jim and turning back along with them. She couldn't think about him now or she might really turn back. Pulling the long black wig snugly onto her head and fitting the trendy hat over it, she turned away from the river. As she slipped away, she thought she heard the sound of distant voices. Hurrying on before they came she headed out of the Preserve and onto Glen Road. Staying off the road and out of sight she planned to hitchhike once out of Sleepyside and make her way to the bus station in White Sands and take the first bus to California. If anyone even questioned the people of White Sands, she knew that no one would remember an inconspicuous hiker much less a blonde wearing a black wig. That's just the way it was with most people they looked at things without really seeing them.

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