The Mystery of the Millionaire

soft and smooth.
    Trixie towel-dried her hair, then went to her room and brushed it vigorously, taking out some of the unruly curl and leaving soft, sandy ringlets.
    She went to her closet and flipped through the hangers, pushing the faded blue jeans out of the way. She found a pair of pale blue slacks and a thin gingham blouse that she hadn’t worn since school had let out in June. She put them on and checked the effect in the mirror. She wasn’t as beautiful as Laura Ramsey, she knew, but today she wouldn’t feel like a frog looking up at a princess, either.
    Trixie nodded her approval at her reflection and went downstairs to help her mother put lunch on the table.
    Mrs. Belden looked twice as Trixie came into the kitchen. “Why, you look very nice today,” she said, the tone of her voice reflecting a little too much surprise.
    “It’s just a pair of slacks and a blouse,” Trixie said, trying to sound casual.
    Mrs. Belden, wisely, said nothing more. Her sons, unfortunately, had plenty of comments when they came to the table.
    Bobby smiled, then frowned. “Are you goin’ to a party, Trixie? You didn’t tell me you were goin’ to a party. I want to go, too.”
    “I’m not going to a party, Bobby,” Trixie told him. “I just didn’t feel like wearing jeans today, that’s all.”
    Brian entered the kitchen just in time to hear Trixie’s last sentence. He looked at her for a moment, one eyebrow raised. “Is Ben Riker coming to visit the Wheelers?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
    Trixie felt herself beginning to blush, realizing immediately what Brian was talking about:
    Once before, she had developed a sudden interest in dressing up, pretending that a crush on Ben Riker was the reason. Actually, her purpose had been to get her parents’ permission to wear her diamond ring, so that she could give it to Mr. Lytell in exchange for holding Brian’s jalopy. “I hadn’t heard anything about a visit from Ben,” Trixie said airily, ignoring her own blushing. “Why do you ask?”
    Brian grinned at his sister, knowing full well that she knew that he knew. “I don’t know what could have brought that possibility to mind,” he said with an innocent look.
    Just then Mart entered the room, and Trixie braced herself for the harshest teasing of all.
    Mart glanced at her, pulled out his chair, and sat down. “You look nice, Trix,” he said.
    Trixie’s mouth dropped open. Mart was definitely not acting like himself these days, and she decided that she would make it a point to find out why—and soon. She’d get Honey to help her, if Honey wasn’t too busy helping Laura Ramsey.
    Right after lunch, Trixie left the house and walked to the garage for her bike. The heat had assailed her as soon as she walked through the back door. It was going to be another scorcher.
    Eager as she was to get to Manor House, she forced herself to pedal slowly. Otherwise, she knew, she’d be a steaming, wilted wreck by the time she arrived.
    She parked her bike at the side of the long driveway near the house, walked up the front steps, and rang the bell. Miss Trask opened the door almost immediately, looking cool and composed in her tailored gray suit.
    “Go right into the library, Trixie,” Miss Trask said. “Everyone else is there already.”
    Trixie smiled her thanks and walked across the large, high-ceilinged entryway to the library. Inside were Mr. Lytell, Honey, Jim, Laura, and a rugged-looking stranger who must, Trixie thought, be a detective.
    As she looked him over, Trixie decided that this man was exactly what she’d expected a private detective to be. He was short and stocky, but his girth all looked like muscle, except for a slight paunch that swelled above his belt. He was wearing green pants that bagged at the knees, a wrinkled white shirt, and a tie that was pulled down below the open top button of the shirt. A suit coat that matched the pants was lying untidily over the back of a couch.
    Trixie’s inspection of the detective was interrupted as Honey spotted her friend. “Oh, here she is now. Hi, Trix!”
    “Hi,” Trixie replied. She saw Honey’s eyes glance over her appraisingly, and she realized, uncomfortably, that her best friend had noticed the difference in her appearance, even though she was too tactful to mention it.
    “You look nice today, Trixie,” Jim said.
    It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. All of the compliments she’d received had been making her feel that