Chapter Four ~ Trixie Belden, Tour Guide

Saturday, October 17

The next morning, Trixie sprang out of bed an hour earlier than normal for a Saturday, ate breakfast, and started on her weekend chores without even one reminder. By nine-thirty she had finished the dusting and washed, dried, and folded one load of clothes. She found her mother in the garden, preparing her flowerbed for the coming winter.

“Moms, may I go into town for an hour or so? I promised to meet the woman who presented the Human Trafficking program and give her and her husband a walking tour of historic Sleepyside this morning.”

“Yes, dear. Maybe you could pick up some milk at the supermarket before you come home.” Helen Belden smiled at her only daughter.

Trixie decided to park in the free municipal lot a block from the town hall where Hoppy, the grasshopper weathervane, overlooked the three blocks of Sleepyside’s downtown shopping area. She headed briskly for the square, where several park benches offered a place to rest for anyone who needed it. Minutes after choosing a seat, she spotted her new friends approaching from the same parking lot.

“Hi guys!” She stood and waved at the couple. Gina was dressed normally for the late October temperature in the mid-50s, in a short-sleeved knit shirt and jeans. A sweatshirt was looped around her neck in case of a drop in the temperature or an uptick in the light breeze. Sonny, however, wore a sweatshirt and a jacket. As they drew closer, Trixie could see that his jeans were new and very sturdy, not well broken in and frayed.

“Let’s keep movin’,” he said. “It’s the only way I’m gonna warm up.”

“Poor guy has spent his entire life basically in the tropics.” Gina grinned. “Anything below seventy is cold.”

Sonny chattered his teeth at his wife but didn’t contradict her.

“Right here is the historic Town Hall. Do you see the grasshopper weathervane on top of the cupola?” Trixie pointed to Hoppy, as everyone called the weathervane. “It’s over 200 years old, and was sculpted by the same man who made the weather vane at Faneuil Hall in Boston. A few years ago it was stolen, but we managed to find out who did it, and got it back.” She recited a few more facts about the history of the building and its importance to Sleepyside as they walked up the sidewalk to the entrance. “There are some interesting murals inside, and a display of historic photographs. We can go inside and look at them if you want.”

“Sure, why not?” Gina seemed interested, and Sonny perked up at the suggestion of going inside. Trixie hated to burst his bubble by telling him the heat hadn’t been turned on for the winter yet. Even though they browsed through the photographic display documenting Sleepyside’s history since the mid-1800s, the inside tour only took about thirty minutes. Back outside, they headed for the retail district. Trixie’s first stop was Crimper’s Department Store, under one family’s ownership since 1856, and they walked inside for a quick tour around the store. She showed them the stairs to the second floor, now used primarily for storage, but within Trixie’s memory had carried fabric sold by the yard, as well as household linens. She also pointed out the old-fashioned cage elevator, still in use, at the back of the store. The first floor was dedicated to clothing, shoes, and gift items, including costume jewelry and purses. Gina was fascinated by the store’s layout, which Trixie had known all of her life and thought was poky and old-fashioned.

“We just don’t have businesses or even architecture this old in Miami,” Gina explained.

“That’s because it was too hot and didn’t have the infrastructure for development until the 1920s,” Sonny interjected. “That’s when commercial air-conditioning became available and Julia Tuttle saw the potential for a beach vacation spot there, and convinced Henry Flagler to extend the Florida East Coast Railway to Miami. Over the years it became a place where people came during winter to escape the snow and ice, and they started retiring there for the same reason. It’s why there’s so many Art Deco buildings mixed in with the modern stuff. And then, we’re so close to Cuba and other Caribbean islands that younger people started coming to Miami for a better life in America. Sometimes the energy can get to be too much—but the great melting pot makes it a more interesting place, too.” He reached for Gina’s hand. “After all, if not for that, we never would have met.” His lips widened in a smile for his wife, and his eyes softened in a way that felt almost too intimate to Trixie.

“Right!” Gina smiled at him, too. Trixie wondered for the space of a breath if they’d forgotten she was there.

“But you said you had a cute diner to show us that was originally built from a train’s dining car.” Gina proved she hadn’t forgotten Trixie after all.

“And isn’t there an old-fashioned lunch counter where you can get sandwiches, ice cream, or a fountain drink?” Sonny asked.

“Yes to both. I’m ready when you are.” Leaving Crimper’s, they walked down a side street to Wimpy’s. Originally opened in a vacant lot with a couple of actual dining cars, long ago it had outgrown the cars and occupied a building. But it was still small and cozy, and retained the original dining car tables and banquettes, as well as some train-themed artwork and menus printed in 1940s style.

“Wimpy’s has the best burgers and shakes in town. It’s one of our favorite spots.” Trixie felt confident in recommending the spot where the Bob-Whites often gathered. Her mouth watered at the thought of a juicy Wimpy burger, even though she’d eaten breakfast less than two hours earlier.

“When you say, our, who do you mean?” Gina asked. “You talked about a group of friends, but we only met your brother Mart and your friends Honey and Dan.”

“Oh yes, we have a kind of a club, the Bob-Whites of the Glen. My two older brothers, Honey and her brother Jim, our friend Diana, and Dan. We all live out on Glen Road—a couple of miles out of town—and back in the day, two miles seemed like a lot. We couldn’t get together with other school friends outside of school, so we did things with each other. Now, Diana’s at college in Chicago; Brian, Jim and Honey are all in Boston, so it’s just the three of us that are left in Sleepyside right now. But when everyone’s home, we still get together and have meetings. Most of our meetings are more like catching up now, but we used to do projects to raise money for good causes.”

“It’s good to have a tight group of friends. I was lucky that my friends on the squad didn’t quit on me. I was a cop so long, I didn’t really have friends outside the department except for an old buddy who I played football with in college, and we went to Vietnam together.” Sonny looked pensive. “And I’m not originally from Miami; grew up in the Panhandle, on the Gulf coast, so I didn’t have school friends or relatives there.”

Trixie’s curiosity was piqued. Sonny seemed pretty mysterious himself. She couldn’t imagine moving to a strange place alone, knowing no one. “How did you end up in Miami, anyway?”

“After my parents died, nothin’ was holdin’ me to the Panhandle,” he said. “When I came back from Vietnam, I went to the police academy. I got engaged and when I finished up in the academy, got offered a job in Miami right away. My old buddy Robbie was from Miami and my fiancée was good with living there. So that’s how I ended up in Miami. But I like being so close to the water, I like the heat, and unless Gina decides different, I guess we’ve put down roots there.”

By this time, they were standing in front of the bank where Trixie’s dad worked. She pointed it out to them, along with the carved frieze above the entry. “It represents both the Native Americans who originally settled the region and were members of different tribes in the Iroquois Nation, and the French, Dutch and British settlers who arrived from Europe in the 1600s. In the frieze, the European settlers and the Native Americans made a treaty to exchange goods and services and to live peacefully alongside each other.” She paused to take a breath.

“Later, the United States government gave in to European settlers’ wishes for more privately owned land. You probably know that many of the Native people were forced to leave their ancestral homes and walk hundreds of miles to new lands far away. But there are still thousands of Iroquois in New York, and we have eleven tribal reservations in the state. Today there are laws that protect Native traditions and allow them to govern themselves. I’m sure it’s a constant struggle, but at least there’s respect and protections built into law.”

“Yeah, we have the Seminoles in Florida, and there are a few smaller tribes that aren’t as well-known.” Sonny nodded. “I had a great grandmother who was supposed to have been a full-blooded Cherokee from North Carolina, but I don’t know any more about her. They didn’t get a good deal from the United States government, and I don’t think there’s anything we can do to really make it up to them.”

“The only thing I know, is that we can do our best to respect every person, no matter what their heritage,” Trixie said. “Dad says there’s been talk of removing the frieze, but it was carved in the 1930s through a WPA project, and so it’s historic. I can see that, too. Of course, the bank isn’t really crazy about commissioning a new work that gives more emphasis to any group, and definitely not paying a lot of money to redo the whole façade of the bank. As it stands now, it’s kind of a stalemate.” She shook her head.

“The bank is open until noon today, but it’s not very interesting inside.” Trixie raked a hand through her curls. “Is there anything else you particularly want to see?”

“This is good for now,” Gina told her. “I’m sure you have plenty to do this weekend. We’ll do a little shopping and then grab some lunch. Thanks so much for showing us around.”

“I was glad to do it. Let me give you my phone number, just in case you need anything.” She recited the number to Gina, who entered it in her cellular phone before giving Trixie her own number. “Have a great weekend.”

“And Trixie, don’t forget! Always use backup, go to the police instead of trying to solve crimes on your own, and earn the trust of potential victims so you don’t scare them off.”

“Yes, I understand.” With a friendly wave, Trixie headed back to her car.

She remembered her mother had asked her to pick up milk, so she headed for the Wegmans supermarket on the edge of town. Ugh, no wonder Moms doesn’t want to go on Saturday, she thought. The large lot was nearly full. Instead of circling the lot until someone left, she chose a space at the end of a row and parked. Walking a little farther won’t hurt me, anyway.

Halfway up the row, she spotted Lee Song coming her way, pushing a cart loaded with produce.

“Lee! Hi, how are you?”

“Hi, Trixie.” Lee paused and gave her a small smile. “Just picking up some fresh produce for the restaurant.”

“You guys don’t buy from a wholesaler?” Trixie tried to conceal her surprise.

“For most things we do. But sometimes we can get a better deal on fresh produce here.” Lee didn’t seem upset or worried, so Trixie pressed on.

“I was at the Blue Dragon last night with some friends. We missed you, but Mei waited on us and did a great job.”

“I’m glad.” Lee checked her watch.

“Does she go to Sleepyside Junior Senior High School? Or is she older? I saw another new girl there, too. The restaurant must be doing a good business to have so many new people working.”

“Trixie, why are you asking so many questions? It’s very… nosy.” Now Lee’s smile was replaced by a frown. “I need to get back. This is a lot of vegetables to put away and then I’ll have to clean and prep them. Good bye.” Without waiting for Trixie to speak, she gave her cart a push and passed on by.

Lee didn’t answer either of my questions about Mei, and she completely ignored what I said about another girl and how it seemed odd that they were getting so many new employees over a short time. Frowning, Trixie continued to mull over the situation while she grabbed a cart and headed back to the milk coolers. How am I supposed to gain her trust? And am I making a mountain out of a molehill? I need to talk to the other Bob-Whites and see if anyone else has ideas.

Three gallons of milk should last for a few days. I wonder if Jim, Brian, and Honey will be able to come home before Thanksgiving. Diana surely won’t. Having decided to call for a special meeting, she paid for the milk and started back to her car.

At home, Trixie put away the milk, and then went to the family computer set up in the den. She brought up the email program and typed in Jim Frayne’s address. How nice to be able to send him a message instead of trying to call when he isn’t in his room three fourths of the time! Jim had his own laptop computer, thanks to his dad being a millionaire, so it was quite private, too. With email, he could look at it and get all of the information when it was convenient for him. He checked his email at least once a day, and he always replied to her messages.

Hi Jim! Hope you are doing well with your research paper and student teaching. Are you guys going to be able to come home Halloween weekend? I think we need to have a special Bob-White meeting. It’s not a clandestine meeting, I’m going to get in touch with Brian and Honey, too. But I’m worried about new waitresses at the Blue Dragon. We’ve been learning about labor trafficking in one of my classes, and a few things seem suspicious. I feel like I need feedback from you, Brian, and Honey, because I’m going to make Lee Song mad if I ask any more questions.

Let me know asap.

Love and xoxox,
Trixie

She tried to clear her mind and forget about Lee Song, the Blue Dragon, and the unknown people who might be victims of trafficking. Instead, she found her mother, who was folding clothes in the utility room. Each member of the Belden family had their own stack of clothing folded and placed on a table as it came from the dryer.

“Moms, what can I do next? I dusted this morning, and picked up milk at Wegmans.”

“Thank you, dear. If you and Bobby could check the yard and pick up any large sticks and tree limbs, Mart can mow and mulch the leaves when he gets home from patrolling with Dan. Then maybe you kids could ride this afternoon. I don’t think Matt and Maddie Wheeler are quite ready to give up their horses, but with both Jim and Honey gone, she told me the other day that it’s something they’ve discussed. If you want the horses to be available, you need to ride them and take care of them.”

“Gleeps, you’re right!” Trixie’s eyes widened in horror at the idea of either living next door to the Wheelers without their redheaded groom, Regan, or no longer having access to the little black mare, Susie, who had always been her favorite of the Wheelers’ five pleasure horses. “We’ll get right on it.” She left the utility room, shouting “Bobby! Bobby, where are you? I need your help.”

The sound of galloping feet on the stairs was her answer. A sturdy eleven-year-old boy with a mop of blond curls not unlike her own jumped the last two steps. “What are we doing, Trix?” he asked, bright blue eyes snapping. Trixie recognized that his energy matched hers.

“Moms wants us to pick up sticks and tree limbs so Mart can mulch the fallen leaves this afternoon when he mows.”

“Awww.” Obviously he’d hoped for something more exciting.

“Come on, we’ll work together and it won’t take that long.” She had taken off her sweatshirt and now donned it again. “Get your sweatshirt or jacket and let’s go. I’ll make grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch when we’re done. Then, Moms said we can go to the Manor House and ride.”

“Could I ride Susie? Regan lets me ride her, and she’s the smallest.”

Trixie sighed. “I suppose so.” If it would motivate Bobby to help her with the hated chore of picking up sticks, she would sacrifice a ride with her favorite mount. Certainly Lady, Starlight and Strawberry were all gentle and good-tempered.

She and Bobby spent an hour picking up sticks and fallen branches in the yard. All the while, Trixie meditated on how to best gain the trust of Lee Song, Mei, and anyone else working at the Blue Dragon. She tended to be very frank and sometimes blunt. Maybe Honey, her tactful best friend, could give her some tips. I’m interested in them as people, I really am. And I care about them. But Gina said if I try to push, they’ll probably pull away and distance themselves. Often, trafficking victims are runaways. If these girls come from China I guess they’re not exactly runaways—not the way I’d think of a runaway—but they might have been promised work that would help them support their family, and maybe the trafficker holds back part of the promised wages and says it’s being sent home to their family. But instead, they’re keeping it for themselves.

Knowing there was nothing else she could do about the possible issue right now, she concentrated on getting her work done. But she couldn’t completely shut her mind to the mysterious actions of Lee Song and her fellow waitresses.

By the time she and Bobby arrived at the Manor House, she’d decided she couldn’t wait for the special called Bob-White meeting before speaking to Honey about the issue occupying her mind. In the stable, the siblings found Honey saddling Lady, Mrs. Wheeler’s gentle dapple gray mare. She tugged at Lady’s girth belt, trying at the same time to distract the mare, who had a bad habit of blowing herself up during the procedure.

“How can I get Lee Song to trust me?” she burst out.

“Trixie, you remember that Gina said you can report suspected trafficking of anyone under eighteen. Why don’t you just do that?”

Trixie paused from ensuring Susie’s stirrups were correctly adjusted for Bobby, while he slipped the bridle over the little mare’s head. “Oh, Honey, I just don’t want Chief Molinson to give me that look... like I’ve gone off half-cocked. Heaven knows, I can be impulsive.”

Honey’s eyebrows shot up. “Impulsive? You?” She chuckled. “Trixie, just don’t wait too long. If anything really is going on, you’d never forgive yourself if you found out later.”

Her little brother could be as inquisitive as Trixie herself. He looked as if he was bursting to ask for details of their conversation. Trixie didn’t want to discuss it, so she decided to try to get him out of the way. “Bobby, here you go.”

“Thanks, Trix!” Bobby fastened his riding helmet and swung himself up into the saddle. Leaving the intriguing topic of the girls’ conversation alone, he used his heels to urge Susie out to the paddock where he waited for his sister and Honey.

“I promise, I’ll do it as soon as I can. But I’d really like to have something solid to report.” Trixie sighed. “It would be good to know if Lee and the other girls are minors or not.”

Honey nodded. “I understand. But like I said, try not to wait too long.”