Chapter Two
Brian collected the packet from Sydney and headed to his car. Once there, he sat in the driver’s seat without starting the engine, staring down at his phone and wondering if he should call Jim or wait until he arrived back in Sleepyside.
He hadn’t seen or spoken to him in almost six months. At Christmas, just being in the same room had seemed forced and difficult. “What do I say?” he asked his reflection in the rearview mirror. “What if he won’t even take my call?”
Brian berated himself all the way to the hotel, talking out every scenario he could think of. He even debated not telling Jim at all; he could always tell Dr. Collier that Jim hadn’t been interested.
Then he thought about Trixie. What would she want? He decided she would want to be found. Period. No questions. No explanations. She would want to come home and be with her family again. As he finally opened the door to his hotel room, he had settled the matter.
Seated at the edge of the bed, Brian took the bull by the horns and placed the call. Just when he thought the call was going to be picked up by voicemail, Jim answered. “This better be good!” he snapped into the phone, sounding annoyed. “I was in class.”
“Uh…sorry. I … forgot. Do you want to just call me back?” Brian stammered.
“Either that or I can stop by the farm on my way home tonight,” Jim offered, feeling bad that he had sounded angry. Brian hadn’t reached out to him in months. Now that he was on the phone he was inwardly praying Brian had called him with good news.
“I’m not at home. I’m in Chicago…” Brian was cut off by an indignant Jim.
“Chicago? What? Is there news? Have… have they found…her?” he demanded, unable to speak her name aloud. “Tell me!” All further thoughts of his class were forgotten. He now had one focus. Trixie.
“Jim…” Brian began and faltered, not having meant to present a false hope. “There’s still no news. Nothing new.” Brian was sorry he hadn’t tried harder to stay in touch with Jim. “I do need to discuss something with you, it’s kind of important.”
As Brian spoke Jim had sagged against the wall in a defeated posture. He clenched his fist and pounded the wall. He tightly squeezed his eyes closed in an effort to fight back the tears he knew were begging to be released. He was prepared for the worst and hoping and praying that the news would be good.
“Wh…What?” Jim choked out.
“I just interviewed for an independent study program. It’s kind of… like an internship.” Brian began to explain.
“So?” Jim asked wondering why Brian was calling him if it wasn’t about Trixie.
“Well, the doctor I interviewed with? I’m hoping to spend the summer working for him, and he told me he’s looking for a student assistant. Would you be interested?” Brian finally got the explanation and question out of his very dry throat.
Jim shook his head, knowing Brian couldn’t see him. He wasn’t saying no. He was confused and it showed clearly on his handsome face. “Me? Why me? I’m not a medical student,” Jim pointed out, aware he was stating something that should have been obvious to Brian.
“Dr. Collier specifically asked me for someone strong in science who wasn't a medical student. You were the first person – heck, the only person that I thought of,” Brian explained. Feeling the need to be completely honest with Jim, he added “Besides…” but then cut himself off as he suddenly changed his mind and fell silent.
Jim had heard him. “Besides what?” He was annoyed and curious at the same time. He and Brian hadn’t been close over the last couple of years, Jim suspected whatever Brian had been about to say was the true motivation for this call.
Brian blew out a loud, frustrated sigh. Jim heard it and knew he needed to be patient. He knew Brian well enough to know that whatever it was he wanted to say, he would say it in his own time and in his own way.
Finally Brian spoke, “This is eating away at me. The more time that passes, the worse it gets. Even my grades are starting to suffer some.”
“I’m sorry, Brian. I had no idea.” Jim replied as the classroom door opened behind him.
A glance over his shoulder revealed his professor standing there, a none-too-pleased expression on his face.
“Will you be rejoining us, Mr. Frayne?” the professor asked, looking over his glasses at Jim.
“Bri…I’ll call you back,” Jim said. He snapped his phone shut and turned to his professor. “I’m sorry, sir. The call… it was important...unsettling”
“I see. Will you be rejoining class?” he asked, sounding less irritated.
Jim reluctantly shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t think I’ll be thinking about anything else,” he explained mournfully.
His professor nodded his understanding. He knew Jim. It wasn’t like him to step out of class. Whatever this was, this young man needed to deal with it immediately. “Take a moment and gather your things. I’ll e-mail you this evening with a recording of today’s class and the missed assignment.”
Jim uttered a hushed word of thanks as he stepped past the professor into the classroom. Shortly, he was walking across campus to his car, returning Brian’s call.
Unfortunately Brian didn’t answer his phone and the call was eventually picked up by his voicemail. Jim was forced to leave a message, “Brian, it’s Jim. Call me.” Clicking his phone closed, he got in his car and headed for Crabapple Farm.
As Jim eased his car onto Glen Road, his phone alerted him to an incoming call.
“Hey, Brian,” he croaked as he answered it.
“Hey. Sorry I missed your call. I went to get my bag out of the car and accidently locked myself out of my room.” Brian told him with a snicker, hoping to lighten the mood he had created earlier.
It had the effect Brian hoped for. He heard a chuckle escape from Jim just before he spoke. “Hold on a minute….”
Jim pulled the car off the road into Mr. Lytell’s parking lot. Once he came to a complete stop, he picked his phone back up from the seat where he had tossed it and spoke. “You still there, Brian?” Jim asked, still chuckling slightly.
“I’m here. What’s so funny?” Brian asked, pretending not to know.
“You,” Jim told him. “I can just picture straight-laced Brian Belden lugging his stuff around a hotel as he tries to find someone to let him back in to his room. Wait until I tell Dan,” he continued, snickering at Brian’s expense.
For a brief moment, the seriousness of the situation before him was forgotten and Brian had to laugh at the image Jim described.
After a couple more moments of shared laughter, Jim finally cleared his throat and spoke again. “You know you just caught me. Another minute and I would have been at Crabapple Farm,” he explained.
“The farm?” Brian asked, swallowing his laughter, before continuing. “Why were you going to the farm?”
Jim ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “When you didn’t answer your phone, “I thought I’d talk to your parents.”
“I haven’t told them anything… not yet, anyway,” Brian admitted almost reluctantly.
Taking a deep breath, Jim forged ahead. “So, are you going to make me ask, or are you going to tell me?” He didn’t want to wait any longer for whatever it was that Brian was avoiding telling him.
Acting confused, Brian simply said, “Excuse me?”
“Don’t pull that nonsense with me, Brian Belden! You know exactly what I’m talking about. Spill it!”
Jim heard him groan and then with a stumbling start Brian began, “It’s almost been two years since… since Trixie…”
Before he could go any further, Jim jumped in. “Don’t!” he barked, “I know how long it’s been. I know better than anyone!” His voice trailed off for a second as he struggled to remain in control. “It’s been 642 days, 8 hours and 15 - no, make that 16 minutes since we all last saw her.” He swallowed hard, knowing this meant it had been 642 days, 8 hours, and almost 26 minutes since he'd last held her in his arms, last told her how he felt. He tried to stifle a sob before it could escape, his anguish no longer hidden beneath the surface, but out in plain view. “What’s your point?”
“Dad calls Detective Pringle every day. You knew that, right?”
Brian heard Jim’s mumbled “yeah,” so he plunged on.
“The case will be shelved when it’s been two years with no new leads.” Brian rushed the words out, not wanting to say them, let alone hear them.
“WHAT?” Jim shouted, oblivious to how it might sound in Brian’s ear.
Brian sighed. “Jim, they're going to mark her case as cold. They’ll put it in a drawer and forget about it and forget about her. I can’t let that happen,”
“We can’t let that happen,” Jim said emphatically, in total agreement. “So what do we do to stop it?”
Brian didn’t miss the fact that Jim had stressed the “we.” He smiled. “I’m spending the summer in Chicago. I’ll start looking. Every spare minute of every day. I’ll visit every hospital, police station, clinic, gas station, diner…whatever.” He stopped for a breath before going on. “I plan to find her. Are you going to help me or am I in this alone? I need to know.”
“When will you be getting back to town?” Jim asked, wanting and needing to talk about this face to face.
“In the morning. I have a 6 a.m. flight,” Brian replied.
“Good. That’ll put you back here late morning, right?” Jim asked, taking only a few seconds to calculate it out.
“If everything goes as planned, yes,” Brian confirmed before asking, “Why?”
“Let’s have lunch,” Jim suggested. “We need to discuss this.”
“What’s to discuss? I’m going to spend my summer in Chicago finding my sister. The only thing I don’t know is if you are going to help me or if I’ll be doing this alone,” Brian stated firmly, as if he expected or anticipated an argument.
“Relax, Bri,” Jim said calmly. “It’s me. Jim. I’m on your side. Of course, I plan to help you. Why wouldn’t I? She is my girl, remember?”
Brian collected the packet from Sydney and headed to his car. Once there, he sat in the driver’s seat without starting the engine, staring down at his phone and wondering if he should call Jim or wait until he arrived back in Sleepyside.
He hadn’t seen or spoken to him in almost six months. At Christmas, just being in the same room had seemed forced and difficult. “What do I say?” he asked his reflection in the rearview mirror. “What if he won’t even take my call?”
Brian berated himself all the way to the hotel, talking out every scenario he could think of. He even debated not telling Jim at all; he could always tell Dr. Collier that Jim hadn’t been interested.
Then he thought about Trixie. What would she want? He decided she would want to be found. Period. No questions. No explanations. She would want to come home and be with her family again. As he finally opened the door to his hotel room, he had settled the matter.
Seated at the edge of the bed, Brian took the bull by the horns and placed the call. Just when he thought the call was going to be picked up by voicemail, Jim answered. “This better be good!” he snapped into the phone, sounding annoyed. “I was in class.”
“Uh…sorry. I … forgot. Do you want to just call me back?” Brian stammered.
“Either that or I can stop by the farm on my way home tonight,” Jim offered, feeling bad that he had sounded angry. Brian hadn’t reached out to him in months. Now that he was on the phone he was inwardly praying Brian had called him with good news.
“I’m not at home. I’m in Chicago…” Brian was cut off by an indignant Jim.
“Chicago? What? Is there news? Have… have they found…her?” he demanded, unable to speak her name aloud. “Tell me!” All further thoughts of his class were forgotten. He now had one focus. Trixie.
“Jim…” Brian began and faltered, not having meant to present a false hope. “There’s still no news. Nothing new.” Brian was sorry he hadn’t tried harder to stay in touch with Jim. “I do need to discuss something with you, it’s kind of important.”
As Brian spoke Jim had sagged against the wall in a defeated posture. He clenched his fist and pounded the wall. He tightly squeezed his eyes closed in an effort to fight back the tears he knew were begging to be released. He was prepared for the worst and hoping and praying that the news would be good.
“Wh…What?” Jim choked out.
“I just interviewed for an independent study program. It’s kind of… like an internship.” Brian began to explain.
“So?” Jim asked wondering why Brian was calling him if it wasn’t about Trixie.
“Well, the doctor I interviewed with? I’m hoping to spend the summer working for him, and he told me he’s looking for a student assistant. Would you be interested?” Brian finally got the explanation and question out of his very dry throat.
Jim shook his head, knowing Brian couldn’t see him. He wasn’t saying no. He was confused and it showed clearly on his handsome face. “Me? Why me? I’m not a medical student,” Jim pointed out, aware he was stating something that should have been obvious to Brian.
“Dr. Collier specifically asked me for someone strong in science who wasn't a medical student. You were the first person – heck, the only person that I thought of,” Brian explained. Feeling the need to be completely honest with Jim, he added “Besides…” but then cut himself off as he suddenly changed his mind and fell silent.
Jim had heard him. “Besides what?” He was annoyed and curious at the same time. He and Brian hadn’t been close over the last couple of years, Jim suspected whatever Brian had been about to say was the true motivation for this call.
Brian blew out a loud, frustrated sigh. Jim heard it and knew he needed to be patient. He knew Brian well enough to know that whatever it was he wanted to say, he would say it in his own time and in his own way.
Finally Brian spoke, “This is eating away at me. The more time that passes, the worse it gets. Even my grades are starting to suffer some.”
“I’m sorry, Brian. I had no idea.” Jim replied as the classroom door opened behind him.
A glance over his shoulder revealed his professor standing there, a none-too-pleased expression on his face.
“Will you be rejoining us, Mr. Frayne?” the professor asked, looking over his glasses at Jim.
“Bri…I’ll call you back,” Jim said. He snapped his phone shut and turned to his professor. “I’m sorry, sir. The call… it was important...unsettling”
“I see. Will you be rejoining class?” he asked, sounding less irritated.
Jim reluctantly shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t think I’ll be thinking about anything else,” he explained mournfully.
His professor nodded his understanding. He knew Jim. It wasn’t like him to step out of class. Whatever this was, this young man needed to deal with it immediately. “Take a moment and gather your things. I’ll e-mail you this evening with a recording of today’s class and the missed assignment.”
Jim uttered a hushed word of thanks as he stepped past the professor into the classroom. Shortly, he was walking across campus to his car, returning Brian’s call.
Unfortunately Brian didn’t answer his phone and the call was eventually picked up by his voicemail. Jim was forced to leave a message, “Brian, it’s Jim. Call me.” Clicking his phone closed, he got in his car and headed for Crabapple Farm.
As Jim eased his car onto Glen Road, his phone alerted him to an incoming call.
“Hey, Brian,” he croaked as he answered it.
“Hey. Sorry I missed your call. I went to get my bag out of the car and accidently locked myself out of my room.” Brian told him with a snicker, hoping to lighten the mood he had created earlier.
It had the effect Brian hoped for. He heard a chuckle escape from Jim just before he spoke. “Hold on a minute….”
Jim pulled the car off the road into Mr. Lytell’s parking lot. Once he came to a complete stop, he picked his phone back up from the seat where he had tossed it and spoke. “You still there, Brian?” Jim asked, still chuckling slightly.
“I’m here. What’s so funny?” Brian asked, pretending not to know.
“You,” Jim told him. “I can just picture straight-laced Brian Belden lugging his stuff around a hotel as he tries to find someone to let him back in to his room. Wait until I tell Dan,” he continued, snickering at Brian’s expense.
For a brief moment, the seriousness of the situation before him was forgotten and Brian had to laugh at the image Jim described.
After a couple more moments of shared laughter, Jim finally cleared his throat and spoke again. “You know you just caught me. Another minute and I would have been at Crabapple Farm,” he explained.
“The farm?” Brian asked, swallowing his laughter, before continuing. “Why were you going to the farm?”
Jim ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “When you didn’t answer your phone, “I thought I’d talk to your parents.”
“I haven’t told them anything… not yet, anyway,” Brian admitted almost reluctantly.
Taking a deep breath, Jim forged ahead. “So, are you going to make me ask, or are you going to tell me?” He didn’t want to wait any longer for whatever it was that Brian was avoiding telling him.
Acting confused, Brian simply said, “Excuse me?”
“Don’t pull that nonsense with me, Brian Belden! You know exactly what I’m talking about. Spill it!”
Jim heard him groan and then with a stumbling start Brian began, “It’s almost been two years since… since Trixie…”
Before he could go any further, Jim jumped in. “Don’t!” he barked, “I know how long it’s been. I know better than anyone!” His voice trailed off for a second as he struggled to remain in control. “It’s been 642 days, 8 hours and 15 - no, make that 16 minutes since we all last saw her.” He swallowed hard, knowing this meant it had been 642 days, 8 hours, and almost 26 minutes since he'd last held her in his arms, last told her how he felt. He tried to stifle a sob before it could escape, his anguish no longer hidden beneath the surface, but out in plain view. “What’s your point?”
“Dad calls Detective Pringle every day. You knew that, right?”
Brian heard Jim’s mumbled “yeah,” so he plunged on.
“The case will be shelved when it’s been two years with no new leads.” Brian rushed the words out, not wanting to say them, let alone hear them.
“WHAT?” Jim shouted, oblivious to how it might sound in Brian’s ear.
Brian sighed. “Jim, they're going to mark her case as cold. They’ll put it in a drawer and forget about it and forget about her. I can’t let that happen,”
“We can’t let that happen,” Jim said emphatically, in total agreement. “So what do we do to stop it?”
Brian didn’t miss the fact that Jim had stressed the “we.” He smiled. “I’m spending the summer in Chicago. I’ll start looking. Every spare minute of every day. I’ll visit every hospital, police station, clinic, gas station, diner…whatever.” He stopped for a breath before going on. “I plan to find her. Are you going to help me or am I in this alone? I need to know.”
“When will you be getting back to town?” Jim asked, wanting and needing to talk about this face to face.
“In the morning. I have a 6 a.m. flight,” Brian replied.
“Good. That’ll put you back here late morning, right?” Jim asked, taking only a few seconds to calculate it out.
“If everything goes as planned, yes,” Brian confirmed before asking, “Why?”
“Let’s have lunch,” Jim suggested. “We need to discuss this.”
“What’s to discuss? I’m going to spend my summer in Chicago finding my sister. The only thing I don’t know is if you are going to help me or if I’ll be doing this alone,” Brian stated firmly, as if he expected or anticipated an argument.
“Relax, Bri,” Jim said calmly. “It’s me. Jim. I’m on your side. Of course, I plan to help you. Why wouldn’t I? She is my girl, remember?”
