Dan Mangan swung from the ship’s mast, rope held tightly in one hand. With his other he grabbed Trixie around the waist as he did so, delivering her to safety on the ships’ other end as the mutiny below continued.

“Oh Dan,” she murmured, batting her blue eyes as she pressed her comely figure against him. He pressed his lips to hers briefly.

“I’ll be back my sweet,” he murmured, taking in an eyeful of her ample, exposed cleavage.

The beeping of his phone interrupted Dan’s dream rudely. Startled awake, he sat up, reaching for the remote to silence the pirate movie he had been watching. Tossing the remote down, he grabbed his phone. What the hell was that dream about? He had never had romantic inclinations towards his old friend.

“Speak of the devil,” he muttered, pressing the talk button. “Hey, Trix.”

“Hi, Danny!” she greeted him. “Did you remember your compass?”

“Yes, Trix. And my boots and all the gear. It’s packed and ready to go.”

“I can’t wait!” she squealed, making him move the phone from his ear. Thank God Brian was going along, he thought. There’d be another male around to diffuse the girliness and squealing.

“I know. This is the fifth time you’ve called me today.”

“I can’t help it Danny, we’re going back to the Inn! To really hunt treasure!”

He had to smile at her enthusiasm. Trixie was nothing if not consistent when it came to adventure.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Trix.”

“Okay,” she laughed. “I can take the hint. You’ve got a girl over. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Dan laughed and hung up. He didn’t have a girl over, which was good, since he had just been dreaming about kissing his best friend and business partner.

Shutting off the dvd, he rubbed his eyes and stood, stretching his lean, six foot two frame before wandering into his bedroom. He was packed for the trip and ready to go, but it was getting late and he needed to be well rested to handle the girls in a car for a two hour drive.

****

He was awake early as usual and lay staring at the clock. He wished there had been a woman to spend the night. Too often lately, he woke up alone and he didn’t care for it. But his last relationship had gone south a while ago, and he hadn’t felt like prowling, or utilizing any of the numbers in his little black book.

The red digital numbers changed and he sighed, throwing back the covers and getting up. He needed at least one cup of coffee before Trixie, Honey and Brian arrived.

He had just started on his second cup when he heard the enthusiastic knocking on his door. With a smile, he opened it as Trixie bounded in, sandy curls flying. She was followed by Honey, and Trixie’s oldest brother Brian, who looked sleepy. The doctor was spending his vacation on a treasure hunt instead of sleeping.

“You ready? We’re all packed!” Trixie almost clapped her hands together.

“Let me finish my coffee, Trix,” he said calmly, readying himself for the onslaught of nonstop chatter about to take place.

Twenty minutes later he shut the back of the SUV. “All right, let’s roll!”

Today they were headed up to the Catskills, to the Inn their friend Miss Trask co-owned. A previous trip as teens had proved an exciting visit complete with a ghostly pirate ship and a famous author Trixie had adored.

But this time, it would be different. Miss Trask had a real mystery for them. Her brother had died last month, and while going through his things and debating on whether or not to sell the Inn, she had come across a map. A real treasure map. Tucked away in an old chest in the attic. Miss Trask wondered if it had belonged to her ancestor, Captain Trask, a pirate that escaped a hanging and turned up in Jamaica.

Knowing her former charges’ penchant for all things mysterious, she had called and invited the Bob-Whites up for a visit, and a chance to see the map and find the treasure.

Trixie of course, had jumped at the chance. Dan and Honey, her business partners, were no less enthusiastic. Brian had arranged some vacation time as it was, but Jim and Mart were in the middle of administrating finals and couldn’t leave. Diana, who was pregnant with her and Mart's second child, would stay at home with their two year old.

The cheerful conversation eventually gave way to comfortable silence, except for the radio playing. Honey was dozing with her head on Brian's shoulder, who was nodding off as well in the back seat. While they hadn’t worked out as a couple, they remained good friends. After numerous rounds of on again-off again, they decided it was best to stay off-again.

Mart and Di was the only couple that had stayed together, but the bonds of friendship kept them all close, and they often vacationed together when time permitted, and spent holidays together.

Now, in their late twenties and early thirties, the old Bob-Whites of the Glen remained tightly knit and involved in each other’s lives, though the remaining five hadn’t settled down.

***

As the four Bob-Whites approached the Pirates Inn, they were delighted to see not much had changed. The dark timbers were still warm and inviting, the three gabled roof was now surpassed by even taller trees. From where Dan parked, they could see the dining room through the bay window. In the distance, they could hear the surf crashing against the cliffs as gold and brown leaves fell softly from the trees around them.

“It looks exactly the same!” Honey exclaimed.

Dan smiled affectionately at her. The trip up here seventeen years ago was one of the few he had been able to join in on as a teenager and it held a special place in his heart.

Grabbing their bags, they entered through the wide front, wooden doors. The small check-in desk to the left was where they remembered. The big glass doors to the dining room shone and Trixie couldn’t help but look in at the patrons. Several were scattered around, enjoying a snack or tea, a woman in a baggy clothes appeared to be working a crossword puzzle.

“Miss Trask must be here somewhere—” Brian was cut off as a door swung open.

A tall red-haired woman stormed through it, turned, and threw her cup through it before it closed.

“Shove it where the sun doesn’t shine, Willis!” she shouted, followed by a stream of French so rapid even Honey couldn’t keep up with it.

The woman turned, saw them and went pale. Thick red liquid was oozing down her white chef coat, and dripping from the left side of her face. Fiery red hair was hanging askew from where it had been pinned up and bright blue eyes stared at them.

“Are you all right?” Brian asked, stepping forward.

“Fine,” she said tightly. “Just a mishap in the kitchen. You folks here to check in?” There was no trace of French to her voice but she was shaking from anger.

“Yes,” Dan spoke up. “We’re looking for Margery Trask.”

The fury gave way to chagrin.

“Oh, you must be her friends. Forgive my appearance—”

The door burst open. “Nola, I’m not going—” the man in the doorway stopped when he saw the visitors. Tall and skinny, he still wore an eye patch and a red scarf over his head. Dark hair peeped out from under it and he needed a shave. Something had been dumped on his shirt that looked dark and goopy.

“Weasel Willis!” Trixie exclaimed.

He looked at the group warily. “Yes?”

“I’m Trixie Belden. We were here a number of years ago— Mr. Trask disappeared—”

His glare melted into a smile. “Yeah, I remember! You’re those kids-friends of his sister right? Marge said you were all coming.”

The redhead took the opportunity to slip out of the room but Dan noticed her subtle exit.

After warm greetings were exchanged, Dan casually mentioned the redhead.

Willis rolled his eyes. “That whack job. She’s Gaston’s niece and worse than he ever was. Temperamental, bitchy, ornery—”

The Bob-Whites couldn’t help but chuckle. She certainly sounded like Gaston.

“What happened to Gaston?” Trixie asked.

“He retired six months ago. And we got stuck with her,” Willis replied. “Unfortunately she’s good at her job, and Mr. Trask adored her. She’s in charge of pretty much anything to do with the kitchen, and I,” he beamed, “was Mr. Trask’s right hand. I helped keep the books balanced and such. My title now is Inn Manager.”

“That’s wonderful!” Honey enthused, followed by the others offers of congratulations.

“Well, it is until I have to question She-Bitch in there about food expenses,” he smiled. “She makes everything from scratch, and nothing but the finest, especially when it comes to chocolate. I don’t know what she does to make it so good—but don’t tell her that, okay? Hey, let me get you settled into your rooms. Marge should be down momentarily, but if she’s not, just go the dining room. And watch out for flying blueberry pie.”

Dan and Brian were shown to the Captain’s cabin. Honey and Trixie were given the room they had had before, all those years ago.

The rooms still had dark paneling, and nautical themes with paintings of ships, and all were glad to see the bunk beds had been replaced with twin beds.

After a quick freshening up, they reconvened in the dining room.

“That hideous pirate painting is still here,” Trixie giggled. Honey shuddered.

“And still creepy for the atmosphere!” The enormous painting of a fierce pirate still stood guard, over his treasure chest and the dining room, glaring at the patrons.

“Mr. Trask wasn’t much into remodeling,” Brian noted.

The doors were still dark and polished, even the carpeted areas were still red, though Trixie suspected it was newer. The setting sun cast its warm glow into the room through the bay window, and Trixie took a moment to study the other guests.

The woman working on what appeared to be a crossword puzzle was frowning at her book, made some notations, and sighed. Her platinum blonde hair was streaked with hot pink and pinned up sloppily. A green jacket was on the seat across from her and Trixie couldn’t help but think she looked a bit lonely.

There was a family with two small children nearby, a young boy excitedly chattering on about how he hoped to see some real pirates on the tour.

The waitress on duty looked slightly amused as she watched her table. She was dressed in striped stockings, a loose white blouse and a short black skirt. A red bandanna covered most of what appeared to be curly dark hair. Big hoops earrings and heavy makeup completed her ensemble.

She strolled over to the Bob-Whites table. Up close Trixie could see the makeup had been applied badly and quickly, and possibly intentionally, especially the crooked lipstick.

“Hi folks, I’m Mad Maria,” she said cheerfully. “What can I get for you?”

“Do you still have the Cannonball Pie?” Brian asked eagerly.

“Not right now. We’re currently having the Flaming Tongue Pie for dessert.”

“Flaming Tongue?” Brian repeated.

Mad Maria grinned.

“It’s my favorite. But then again, I’m a bit mad,” she winked roguishly at Brian as Honey’s snickered. “We had an incident with the blueberry earlier, usually we have two options.”

Honey recalled the dark mess on Willis’ outfit and had a feeling she knew what happened to the blueberry dessert.

“Sounds good to me,” Trixie declared. “I’ll take one!”

While they were waiting and enjoying iced tea and lemonade, Miss Trask hurried into the dining room.

There was a round of hugs and greetings and excited chatter before she sat down with them. In her customary tweed suit and sensible shoes, she looked every bit the efficient assistant that she was. Her gray hair was short and trim and her blue eyes were merry.

“Do you have it with you?” Trixie asked eagerly.

Miss Trask laughed. “No, it’s up in the office. But after your snack, we’ll look at it.”

“I can’t wait!” Trixie’s eyes sparkled as she felt the rush of a new mystery tingling in her back.

Mad Maria appeared with a tray and four orders of a delectable lemon meringue pie.

The Bob-Whites dug in with gusto, Trixie moaning out loud in appreciation.

Brian nodded his agreement. “Sure beats the hospital’s attempt at pie,” he commented.

“That’s beyond fabulous,” Honey sighed happily. “And is there some kind of spice?”

Miss Trask smiled. “You’d have to ask Nola, and she won’t tell. But I think that’s why it’s called Flaming Tongue.”

“Definitely some spice,” Brian muttered as the heat crept in. Taking a sip of his tea, he pushed his plate away. Dan however, reached over and snatched his friend’s uneaten portion.

“Spice is the variety of life!” he smirked.

Brian rolled his eyes. “You got it backwards, dopey."

Dan started to give a sarcastic reply but thought better of it. You keep eating like that and I’ll start calling you Mart Junior.”

Dan just grinned and savored the pie, wondering about the feisty redhead who had made it.

“Temperamental must run in their family,” Dan commented.

Miss Trask’s smile faded. “Let me guess. You saw Nola throw something?”

They glanced at each other.

“More like the aftermath. She went after the Weasel, I think,” Trixie said.

“She often does,” Miss Trask sighed. “Those two are like oil and water. She seems to have inherited Gaston’s moody genius. But generally she’s quite pleasant to get along with, as long as you don’t criticize her food. ”

“I certainly won’t,” Dan swallowed his last bite of pie.

“So tell us more about this mysterious map,” Trixie leaned forward, eyes glowing.

“Why don’t we go up to my office?” Marge offered. “It’s a bit more private.”

The Bob-Whites followed her to what had been Frank Trask’s office.

The room had been cheered up since the last time they saw it. Marge’s efficient nature meant there were newer filing cabinets, and there were no stray papers laying around. The cabinets were obviously locked, the key on Marge’s key ring. The chairs had been replaced with newer, more comfortable seats, which the boys signaled to the girls to take. The old wooden wall panels had been removed and the walls painted in a soft yellow which warmed up the room, and new red carpet.

The old fashioned oak desk was also still there, but now had a small sorting system, a cup with pencils and pens, scissors, and a laptop computer.

“Going high tech, Miss Trask,” Dan grinned at her.

Marge smiled. She had been quick to learn how to maneuver with computers and the internet to keep up with her former charges. “This office really needed some improvements. Frank was extremely disorganized. I even upgraded the safe, I fear Frank was too trusting. This one requires all sorts of information to open.”

Marge unlocked a drawer in the big oak desk and took out a folded, yellowed piece of parchment. Trixie took it gently, unfolding it.

“Looks like something Bobby would have drawn,” Brian commented. Marge smiled.

“That’s what I thought. Then I remembered how last time we were here Mart found the map that Frank had drawn. I really thought this might have been the first one he made, that he planned to frame it or something, but then I realized it was tucked into a small journal, hidden away. Frank never would have hidden it away if he planned to use it for atmosphere.”

“Do you still have the journal?” Dan asked. Marge handed it to him. Gently he began to leaf through the pages.

“The handwriting is almost illegible, but it appears to have been Captain Trask’s,” she said.

“Following the theory that Captain Trask paid off the militia and slipped out with them,” Honey said, “why would he leave treasure behind?”

“That’s part of the mystery, Honey,” Marge smiled. “We don’t know. Unless he had so much wealth that he didn’t have time to load it all.”

“To think that kind of treasure could be sitting under here,” Trixie murmured, “this whole time!”

Marge nodded. “There might be nothing. It’s quite possible he did get everything loaded up. This entire map could be a joke by the Captain. I understand he had quite a sense of humor.”

“Or he planned to hang out here for a while and set up traps and such,” Dan pointed out. The others nodded their agreement.

“When can we start looking?” Trixie asked eagerly.

“Well, I found several more journals among the Captain’s things. I thought you might like to look them over for clues first. If that map is correct, and based on general pirate lore, there are quite a few traps en route to the treasure, if there is treasure. It might be a wild goose chase.” Marge said. She hesitated, then sighed.

“I should tell you that word is out about the map. We’ll have a full house.”

“Can we get a list of the guests?” Trixie asked. “I mean, so we know who’s who.”

Marge nodded. “Normally I wouldn’t do such a thing but these are people from all over, various treasure hunters. Everyone has to sign a waiver upon arrival that they won’t be trying to tear the place up or bringing machines and such. I fear it will become a madhouse otherwise.”

“I’ve heard some of them can get pretty fanatical,” Dan commented, still looking through the journal in his hands. “How did word get out?”

“Mad Maria,” Marge sighed again. “She got too friendly with a food critic one night, after overhearing me talk to Nola and Weasel about it. There’s one treasure hunter here already, Erica Sentel. You might have seen her earlier in the dining room.”

“By herself, doing a crossword?” Trixie asked.

“That’s her. But it wasn’t a crossword. She seems to think she can solve the whole thing with numbers. Very strange young woman, rather difficult in the dining room. Of course no one has the map but me, and now you all. The Weasel and Nola have seen it too. Frank trusted them, so I do too. I do need to go chat with Nola about dinner, please, feel free to look at these.”

The investigators nodded as Marge passed around the journals. After a bit of discussion, they decided to unpack and settle in for some preliminary scouting around the place.

***

Trixie unpacked, deep in thought. Not hearing Honey come in, she jumped when her friend spoke.

"What are you thinking, Trix?" she asked. "You were a million miles away."

Trixie turned to her, her blue eyes puzzled. "Honey, Miss Trask said Nola not only went to the Cordon Bleu, but some other school as well as working with her uncle."

"And?" Honey began to unpack.

"Why would someone with as much skill as they both have, be content to be the chef for a small, private inn? Cooking shows are hot news, restaurants are constantly in competition, and all the big name chefs are opening their own places nowadays. Gaston was always having fits, but he stayed. Now it seems like Nola is the same. Don’t you find that a bit odd for a young woman? She looked about our age. Why settle here?"

Honey paused in her unpacking.

"Well, not everyone wants that kind of attention," she suggested.

Trixie was frowning as she stopped unpacking and wandered towards the window. She stared in the direction of the river.

"There's something mysterious about it. Surely she could make tons of money at a bigger establishment. That pie was practically orgasmic!"

Honey laughed, wondering if she and Brian could find a more creative use for it later. Maybe this would be a good time to go on-again, she thought, then dismissed it. No, they had agreed it didn’t work out.

"Maybe she doesn't need the money."

"People always want more," she shook her head. "Even those who have it."

Honey had to laugh. "Just because Daddy is always on the lookout for a new investment . . ."

Trixie smiled. "I know. It just strikes me as odd that someone who can make that kind of food would be content in a place like this, and not out competing in some bigger establishment."

Honey shut the dresser drawer. "Why don't we wait and see what happens for dinner? Maybe she's just good at one or two things, and the rest will be a flop. It might be that she’s just not that talented and that particular bit of mystery would be solved.”

***

But Honey was wrong. Despite the gory and amusing names, dinner was superb. Rotting Brain was beef stroganoff, with a flavor that made Trixie salivate with envy, and drizzled with tomato sauce over the tangy, gray smothering on top of the noodles. Dan ordered Dead Man’s Head, which turned out to be a divine pot roast with a rich gravy and surrounded by colorful carrots and potatoes. Brian's order of Hen-Pecked was a savory chicken and rice dish with a creamy lemon sauce and sprinkled with herbs.

Honey opted for a chef salad, which arrived in a large bowl and arranged with colorful vegetables, meats and cheese. There was also the Skeleton's Surprise, which was an enormous burger topped with a spicy, savory sauce, and covered with pineapple slices and grilled sweet onions. It was accompanied by a colorful mixture of broccoli, red peppers and yellow squash, and pickle slices, according to the menu. Lunatic’s Love was grilled chicken with a tangy ginger sauce and basmati rice.

"Eat hearty, ye scurvy curs," Mad Maria said cheerfully, as she delivered their food. They had agreed the bad makeup was part of her role, as it looked refreshed from a few hours before.

"Remember how put out Gaston was over his wonderful dishes being named such horrible things?" Honey giggled.

"Which proves my point," Trixie muttered. She just nodded.

"What point?" Dan asked.

"Tell you later," Trixie answered, glancing around.

There was Ms. Sentel, scribbling in her notebook, her Dead Man's Head untouched next to her arm. She had a fedora styled hat on her, and wore the olive green coat Trixie had seen earlier. Glasses kept sliding down her nose and she scrunched her face up to move them higher. A strip of hot pink hair had escaped its clip but she didn’t seem to notice.

A young couple that appeared to be honeymooners or on a lovers getaway was enjoying dinner two tables over, staring lovingly into each others eyes and feeding each other bits of food.

There were several families with children, all of which were looking around the dining room, no doubt for clues to the Captain's long ago disappearance. Though the Bob-Whites knew the answer, they didn't want to ruin the lure for guests. Trixie knew they'd work their way into looking for trap doors, hidden spaces in the walls-because she had too. Though hopefully they wouldn't get caught in the dumbwaiter!

The Bob-Whites had to smile when the young child at the next table ordered Severed Fingers for dessert, and screamed in delight when she saw it. Five delicate golden ladyfingers resembling the shape of fingers and a thumb, floated in a pool of raspberry syrup.

"That's almost morbid," Honey murmured. Trixie giggled.

"Someone definitely has a warped sense of humor," Brian agreed.

Dan grinned. He was pretty sure he knew who it was and she already intrigued him.