Cliffhanger (The Belinda & Bennett Mysteries, Book One) (11 page)

Chapter 13

Belinda fumed,
spitting out half-articulated curses as Bennett walked her across the street to
her car. He watched her in fascination. One minute she looked about ready to
pass out, the next she had the entire room kneeling in her presence. And all it
took was Lily Devore insulting him.

"You didn't
have to defend me," Bennett said while she muttered to herself and dumped
her purse out on her hood to find her keys. "I couldn't care less what any
of them think about me."

Belinda huffed,
slamming her clutch down in frustration. Not so good for the paint job, but he
didn't dare tell her so. "I care what they think! You're not giving them
money so you can hobnob. Look at you. You spent the entire night in a corner
staring at the wall."

"Actually, I
was—"

"You know,
her family did that very thing. They bought their way into this circle. She has
no right..." Belinda growled and stamped her foot. "I was fully
prepared to write Simone a check when I got home."

"For
what?"

"For
slamming one of her paintings over Lily's head. The only reason I didn't is
because I doubted I could lift one by myself and Victoria's not here to
help."

"That's
probably a good thing."

Belinda stopped
huffing and throwing things and just stared at him, a little smile tugging at
his mouth. "I don't normally act like this."

Bennett dug his
hands into his pockets. "Is it true about your family?"

Belinda got
closer. "I hate pulling rank, but it's the truth. In all honesty, I think
part of Lily's anger comes from knowing good and well that Mark and I,
economically, were equals. Dating Mark was sort of a social stepping stone for
her and if he left her for me..." She shrugged. "I guess it might
have hurt her socially too. You know what they say. Keep your friends close,
the people with more influence than you closer."

"Was she
using him?"

Belinda's eyes
flickered, but the flames were burning out. "Mark thought so. You saw what
just happened. When you truly care about position the way Lily Devore does, you
know who you have to work with and make happy."

"Then
apparently she doesn't. Look how she treats you."

"It does
hurt her, you know. Even if she thinks it doesn't. My parents have contributed
a lot to the Portside community beyond just money. People don't just respect
them; they like them."

"That
applies to you too."

Belinda folded
her arms. "That's only because of my parents."

"It's
because of you. When you walked out of that room, nobody saw the Kittridge's
daughter. They saw Belinda."

"I threw my
family's money in their faces. I never do that. My parents never do that. And
anyway, you were the one who really stood up to Lily." She waved a hand in
his direction. "You didn't need a bank account to get everyone in that
room listening to you."

Bennett smirked.
"She was right though. Not about how I feel about supposedly being one of
them. I don't give them money for that purpose. I can and I want to. But in the
end, I'm well aware my presence doesn't count for much."

"That's not
true."

"Yes, it is.
And you basically just said so yourself."

Belinda's arms
dropped to her sides and she focused on the pavement. "I'm sorry,"
she whispered.

"I don't
care," he said firmly. "My mom cares. But I don't." There was
the slightest hint of bitterness in his voice.

"Do you see
her a lot?"

Bennett
hesitated. "Not so much. No." He laughed. But it was crisp, not
playful. "Lily Devore and my mom fight their whole lives to command the
sort of respect that you just come by naturally. All you had to do was throw
food at somebody and you morphed into an aristocrat."

"I morphed
into my grandmother." Belinda shook her head, not realizing it before.
"I was with her too long."

"The
grandmother you mentioned to Carmichael?"

Belinda nodded
proudly. "Just sitting there she has everyone acting on their best
behavior. She's incredible."

"It runs in
the family."

Belinda flushed.
He was going to say something else, but she didn't give him the chance.

She kissed him.

Belinda wrapped
her arms around his neck, her fingers digging into his hair, sending chills
down his spine.

"Thank you
for standing up to Lily," she said softly when it was over.

Bennett was just
trying to get the world spinning around him under control.

"I liked
Mark but I blew my chances before he started dating Lily. And then..."
Belinda still gripped his hair. "I'm not making that mistake this
time."

She looked fully
prepared to kiss him again and now Bennett was anchored and ready to go when a
car zoomed across the road in the wrong direction down the one-way street they
stood on. Bennett dove toward the sidewalk, taking Belinda right along with
him. They watched the car screech left and then right across the next street
and out of sight.

Bennett helped
Belinda to her feet, his heart racing.

"I don't
suppose you caught the license plate?" she said shakily.

Feet scampered
toward them, the figure of Russell Carmichael temporarily lit up under the
streetlamp. "Are you kids all right?"

Bennett nodded
weakly.

"Phew!"
Carmichael said, huffing and puffing. "Your family does know how to make
an exit."

Belinda smiled
wryly. "I'll tell my grandmother you said so."

~ * ~

After making sure
Belinda got home safely and struggling to wind down enough to fall asleep,
Bennett ran out of his bedroom, following the sound of banging on his front
door. He opened to a wild-eyed Belinda, her jacket askew and hair half up and
half down. He tried to rub the blur from his eyes, but she was still out of
focus.

"You're not
wearing pants," Belinda said flatly.

Bennett looked
down, then up, frantically looking for something to hide behind. He dashed back
to his bedroom, yanking jeans out of a drawer and hopping around his bed,
trying to pull them on without crashing to the floor in the process. He stuffed
his head through a T-shirt as he ran back.

"Kyle is
missing!" she said before he could flick on a light. "I thought he
was sleeping, but it hit me as I fell asleep that his Jeep wasn't in the
driveway when I got home."

Bennett rubbed
his eyes again. "I...I'm not quite getting you. Maybe he just hasn't
gotten home yet." Bennett checked the clock over the mantle nearby.
"It's just one in the morning."

Belinda stared at
him like he'd gone crazy. "Where would he be?"

"Out with
friends?"

"He doesn't
have any friends!" Belinda threw her arms up. "He works, he comes
home, he works. That's it. He's gotten completely antisocial."

Bennett shrugged.
"He could be at a bar. He has had a lot of stress lately."

Belinda shook her
head vigorously. "You don't know him. He's not out with friends; he's not
at a bar. Something bad has happened to him. I can feel it." She pounded
her chest, her eyes desperate. "Do you have any siblings?"

Bennett shook his
head no.

"Well, I
don't know how to describe this, but a twin is a sibling grown exponentially.
We shared a womb. I know he's in trouble."

Bennett sucked in
a breath and grabbed his phone and keys, waving Belinda through the open door.
He got behind the wheel and started moving like he knew where to go. Belinda
waited for him to say where they were going, but finally couldn't wait any
longer and just asked.

"I think
Kyle has been following you."

Belinda looked at
him sideways. "As in trailing me or something? How do you know?"

"I've done a
lot of trailing; I just do."

"Since
when?"

"My guess is
since the car accident. I think he knows something that we don't."

A new wave of
panic lit up her eyes. "Oh, Bennett! That's what he's been hiding! All
this time..." She buried her face in her hands. "That's why he was so
emotional tonight...last night...you know what I mean."

"Emotional?"

"Right
before I left for the stupid dinner at the museum, he apologized and hugged me.
But it was a weird hug. Like he was...afraid."

Bennett sped up.

They whirled into
the museum parking lot and Belinda got out, following Bennett blindly.
"Why are we here?" she whispered as they ran around the building to
the backyard.

"Because I
saw Kyle's Jeep parked nearby on my way in."

"Why didn't
you tell me?"

"I had no
reason to at the time. And it was only a guess."

"Now it's
not a guess?"

"Now it's
not a guess."

They checked the
yard, pretty open except for a few small bushes and a couple of sculptures.
Bennett grunted, looking around. He couldn't have just waltzed inside. He had
to be outdoors somewhere. Belinda watched him expectantly, gripping his arm.
They scaled the grounds, Bennett waving his flashlight all around, to no avail.
Belinda's growing panic traveled down to her fingernails, now pinching his
skin.

"Maybe he
was waiting in his car," Bennett said, his mind circling through the
possibilities. What he would have done in that situation. "Or close enough
to watch the building without being spotted by anyone inside." He chewed
on his lip, his eyes roving from the museum to the park across the road.

They ran to the
park, starting the search systematically from the top, checking all the
potential hiding spots. But there was nothing. Not even any clear evidence of someone
being there earlier. Bennett switched direction with Belinda clinging to him
and they slowed up when Bennett found his Jeep. A whimper escaped from Belinda
when he aimed his flashlight inside and lit up nothing. Absolutely nothing. She
placed her hands on the window, peering inside as if that would conjure up
Kyle's image.

"We'll find
him," Bennett said dialing Jonas, more panicky then he wanted to let on.
Especially when he caught sight of Kyle's phone on the Jeep's console.

"I don't
understand. He's a suspect. Isn't that what the killer wants?"

"He may
simply be getting too close to the truth." Bennett counted the rings
before Jonas picked up. He was there within ten minutes, his clothes as
mismatched as the two of them.

Bennett explained
the situation with Belinda interjecting every few sentences. Jonas urged them
to go home and try to rest. Officially, neither Bennett nor Belinda could help.
So Bennett said she could sleep at his house that night and go home in the
morning. But Belinda fought him, unraveling as tears slid down her face.

"Someone
might call. I...I have to be there." Sobs swallowed up the last words as
she crumpled into Bennett's arms. He looked to Jonas pleadingly.

Jonas placed a
hand on her head, leaning over to see her face, half-smothered by Bennett's
chest. "We need you, Belinda. You know Kyle better than anyone on this
planet and we need your help to find him. But you won't be able to help us
unless you're thinking clearly, am I right?"

Belinda squeaked
out a yes.

"All right,
then," Jonas said soothingly. "You go home with Bennett where you'll
be safe and can sleep for a while. Then tomorrow you'll be ready to go."

Belinda lifted
her head, managing a stiff nod.

"That's my
girl." Some sort of silent understanding passed between Jonas and Bennett
and Bennett took her back to his house.

Belinda denied
that she could sleep, but oddly enough, she was gone minutes after hitting the
pillow. Bennett, however, stared at the ceiling from the couch in the living
room, his pulse racing. He kept checking to make sure she was safe, still
curled up in a ball in his bed.

He couldn't let
her see, but in the dark he had nothing to hide, and he let all of his fear
surge through his body. He reviewed every detail of Jeff's murder so far,
including just theories. Kyle had put something together, but what was it? What
did he have that they were missing? And more worrying, did Belinda know it too?
Bennett got off the couch to check on her again.

Chapter 14

Belinda sat down
at the two-seater table just off of the kitchen shortly after first light.
She'd pulled her hair back into a neat ponytail and wore slim-fitting jeans and
a zippered hoodie that brought out the pink in her cheeks. And why Bennett was
taking such close notice of all of this, he couldn't fathom. Aside from looking
a little piqued, she looked a ton better than he felt.

"Did you
sleep well?" he said, already knowing she slept decently because he
checked on her about every hour.

Belinda nodded,
giving him a strangled affirmative. "Did you?"

Bennett
hesitated. He didn't want to let on that he'd been watching her sleep.
"Uh...not really."

Her brown eyes
grew sad. "I would've taken the couch."

Now he'd made her
feel bad. Great. He blew it off and changed topics. "Would you like
anything?" His empty fridge flashed through his mind. "Orange juice?
Water? Coffee?"
Please don't ask for food
, he thought desperately.

She brightened at
his last offering. "Coffee sounds wonderful."

Bennett nodded,
pleased he could at least deliver coffee, which seemed to make her happy at all
times. He measured grounds into a filter, counting them off in his head, trying
to think of something to say or ask.

"You have a
lovely house," Belinda said quietly, beating him to it. But she was better
at that than he was. "I tried to imagine what sort of house a Bennett Tate
would live in, and I have to say you have much better taste than I gave you
credit for."

Bennett pressed
the power button on the coffee maker, enraptured by what she was saying. She
had imagined what his house looked like. "It's not an Ocean Ave. house,
but I like it well enough."

Belinda's cheeks
glowed pinker like she was embarrassed. "I...I knew your house would be
nice," she yanked on the hem of her sleeves, "but I was just
surprised by the architecture."

Somehow he'd
already managed to say something wrong, but he wasn't positive what it was.
"What did you expect exactly?"

Again, he said
something wrong because she continued to look embarrassed. "Oh, I'm not
sure I had a specific house style in mind. I like the whole shingled bungalow
look. It's...it's artistic."

Bennett raised
one of his thick eyebrows, determined to say something right while he pulled
out a cereal box he'd forgotten about. "Now who knows her
architecture?"

Belinda
half-smiled, the rose color in her cheeks diminishing to a modest baby pink.
"Are you remodeling? It looks like you're doing some work to the
outside."

He placed sugar
and cream in front of her and then realized he probably should ask what she
takes in her coffee. "I bought it as sort of a fixer-upper. It doesn't
need major work, just some TLC."

"And you're
the one to provide it?"

"Me and my
paintbrush."

Belinda leaned on
the tabletop, her eyes rather hollow. "It's nice and quiet over here. Is
it like this all summer or does it turn into Grand Central Station once tourism
picks up?"

"We'll find
out for sure pretty soon. I explored this area thoroughly last summer and it
seemed relatively quiet even at the height of tourism."

Belinda dumped
gracious amounts of sugar into her mug and stirred. "So is this your first
summer in Portside?"

Bennett was still
reviewing the fact that she liked his house. "No, but it will be my first
summer in this house. I've lived in Portside for a few years. I used to room
with Jonas actually." Belinda nodded and sipped her coffee. Apparently, it
was his turn. "Does your neighborhood turn into Grand Central Station in
summer?"

"Surprisingly,
no. And we're right near the beach too. However, the street Victoria lives on
has a constant flow of traffic the entire summer. Her husband hates it."

Bennett frowned.
"I don't think I'd like that."

Belinda's eyes
twinkled and she cocked her head to the side thoughtfully. "You know, I've
wondered how many parties and events I've been to that you've—secured—before we
met."

"Haven't you
been gone for a while?"

"Yeah, but I
visit sometimes, mostly to see Victoria, and we go to things. So we could have
crossed paths a few times now and never known it."

Bennett set his
eyes firmly on hers. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

Her twinkle
increased. "A good thing, definitely."

Satisfied that
Belinda meant it, Bennett turned his attention to the envelope she'd set on the
table. Belinda took that as her cue to explain. "I found these photos, and
many more just like them, in Lily's dresser at her family's house."
Belinda exhaled.

Bennett raised
his eyebrows, studying the two photos of Belinda and...

"Mark,"
Belinda answered, reading his mind. "That's Mark. It's probably
nothing." She pushed a loose string of hair behind her ear, keeping her
eyes on the envelope.

Bennett held up
the two photos, looking at Mark a little closer. He frowned. Mark was better
looking than he'd imagined. "You say there were more like these?"

"A lot
more."

"Then this
is not nothing, Belinda. This is surveillance."

"Are you
sure?"

Bennett glanced
at the photos. The telephoto lens. The hiding-in-a-bush feel. The uninhibited
acting of the subjects. "Oh, yeah. I'm sure."

Belinda hid her
face in her hands, using every ounce of energy to suppress the meltdown that
wanted to explode out of her. After a few minutes, she wiped away a few stray
tears and faced him squarely. "What do we do?"

"We go back
to your house, and we trust Jonas."

"Is that all
we can do? I mean..." Belinda rubbed her eyes.

Bennett put up a hand
to signal for her to wait as his phone buzzed. After a couple of minutes of
listening to Mr. Trebor talk in incomprehensible circles, Bennett finally
calmed the older man down enough to find out why he was so worked up. The
bottom line was that Trebor needed to talk to him as soon as possible. After
promising several times over that he would meet him at the shop later that
morning, Bennett returned to the table, consumed by what he'd gleaned from his
conversation with Trebor.

"What's the
matter?" Belinda said.

"I'm not a
hundred percent sure. Mr. Trebor is excitable." Bennett smirked, thinking
about the woman across from him. "But he sounded serious. Could be about
the accident."

Belinda almost
choked on her powdered donut.

"Don't get
excited," Bennett said. "I don't know if that's true. I got
surveillance and Kittridge from his babbling."

Belinda sipped
some coffee to swallow the donut successfully. Bennett found the donuts next to
the cereal, but they were stale. "There are two other things I should tell
you," she said.

Bennett's eyes
shot up from his coffee stirring.

"I found a
lump of cash in Jarrett's backpack when he visited me at Victoria's, and I
think someone uninvited was in my house." She said the last part quickly,
keeping her eyes on anything but Bennett.

Bennett slammed
his coffee mug on the table. "What?"

Belinda winced.
"I found a suspicious mud print by the side door after you left. It wasn't
there when you arrived and no one I know of would have left it."

Bennett ran his
hands over his head. "I really wish you had mentioned this earlier."

"I didn't
touch it. It should still be there on the floor." Belinda licked powdered
sugar from her lips. "So...you go talk to Mr. Trebor and I'll, you know,
go do my thing."

"If by your
thing you mean staying at home until I get back, then yes."

Belinda batted
her eyelashes. "Of course that's what I mean."

Bennett watched
her closely. He didn't believe for a moment that's what she intended to do, but
he would take measures to ensure it's what she actually did. The stakes were
higher now. He thought briefly about her kiss from the night before. Now was no
time to get into it, but the quicker they figured all of this out, the faster
they could get on to other matters.

Bennett took her
home and waited like a guard while she showered, examining the muddy footprint.
It was a sneaker. Probably a canvas sneaker. He contemplated that as Belinda
came down the stairs, apparently expecting him to just leave her there.
Instead, he offered to help carry something into the carriage house. He knew
she still had more work to do.

They didn't have
room for all the boxes plus their bodies in the carriage house without creating
a fire hazard, so she led him to the small garden shed on the opposite side of
the property. Bennett set his boxes where she pointed and walked out in front
of her. Before Belinda could get out of the shed, Bennett snatched the handle
and forced the door shut, locking it from the outside.

"Bennett!"
Belinda screeched. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying
to keep you from any more danger. I'll call Jonas to come get you out after I
go, all right?"

"No, I'm not
all right!" Belinda huffed. "You've just locked me in the garden
shed!"

"It's for
your own good." Bennett peeked at her through the side window. Boy was she
steamed. He chuckled, making her eyes flash that much more. "You won't be
here long, I promise."

"You bet I
won't."

Bennett
half-smiled. "Be good. I'll see you soon."

"Be—"

Bennett left her
stewing, dialing Jonas on his way out. "Yeah, I have a favor to ask though
you could be in physical danger doing it." Bennett's mouth crooked up.
"You need to release a certain someone from her garden shed. And then, you
need to scope out her house for a possible break in." He could still hear
Belinda fussing on the other side of the driveway and hurried off to town.

Bennett took the
back side entrance into Trebor's shop because of the yellow tape still blocking
the front door due to the accident. Other then some makeshift plywood, nothing
had changed. It was quiet inside and Bennett hoped Trebor hadn't forgotten
about their meeting. He'd locked Belinda in a garden shed for this.

He walked into
the back office, hoping to find him just taking a nap or something. But Bennett
stopped cold in the entrance to the office. Mr. Trebor's head was flat on top
of his keyboard, blood streaming down through the keys and onto the desk.
Bennett's stomach flip-flopped and he fumbled to get his phone from his pocket.
As he struggled to articulate what had happened to the operator, Bennett
realized the monitor above Trebor was zoomed in and frozen on a piece of
security footage.

He stood as close
as he dared for evidence's sake and for the sake of not being able to stand to
see Mr. Trebor like that. But Bennett was right. It was a scene from Belinda's
car accident. And there was a blood smear over part of the screen. He couldn't
be certain, but from where he stood, Bennett felt positive someone was hiding
behind the streak—watching the accident.

~ * ~

Belinda muttered
a string of curses and insults to the air. Bennett was already long gone, but
it made her feel better. No doubt he was grinning all the way to wherever he
was headed, knowing that she was trapped in the shed wanting to choke him,
which only made her more infuriated.

She plopped into
the plastic seat and watched the dust particles floating by in the ribbons of
sunlight coming in through the window. Belinda hadn't really processed what
happened the night before, unless you counted the humiliating breakdown she'd
had on Bennett's chest. Somehow, she'd slept dreamlessly the night before and
didn't think about the whole situation until her eyes popped open and it all
came crashing down on her. Her stomach twisted into knots and she felt too
jittery to just lie there.

It was time to
get serious.

There was no way
she could just sit there waiting—for what?—while her brother was missing. So
Belinda picked up a hoe and hacked through the side window. Then she climbed on
top of the wooden table and used gardening gloves to clear away all the
leftover glass. With a deep grunt she pushed up and through the window, just
squeezing through with a lot of sucking in and pushing and flailing.

Once she was up
and dusted off, Belinda ran upstairs to her bedroom to change. As she
rearranged her hair, the lights went out. "You have got to be kidding
me." Belinda tried several lights in different spots of the house and let
out a long, irritated groan. At best, something tripped.

Belinda turned on
a flashlight, aiming down the basement stairs. Maybe she should have stayed in
the garden shed after all. Then she wouldn't feel obligated to deal with the
power situation. Belinda took one step at a time, not in a hurry to enter the
dark pit of their unfinished basement. It was just a holding tank for unwanted
junk. And the circuit board, unfortunately. She tried not to think too hard
about what could be crawling around her and scurried to the circuit panel,
flinging the metal door open. At a glance, nothing was tripped. As she
carefully inspected each breaker, the door to the basement slammed shut.

Belinda whirled
around, her heart stopping for a beat. She aimed her light at the door and then
jerked it around the rest of the room, holding her breath. Deciding it wasn't
worth it, she darted for the stairs just as the circuit panel buzzed, sparked,
and caught fire. Belinda screamed, glancing around the room in panic for
anything that could help. She grabbed a blue tarp and started hitting it
against the circuit board, but it wasn't stopping the blaze. There was nowhere
for the fire to spread really, but the smoke started to burn her lungs.

She dropped the
tarp and ran around the basement searching for anything else that could help.
An old lamp? Nope. Her parents' bikes? Nope. Her dad's power tools? Nope.
Belinda's heart raced as she ran around, the smoke spreading out from the
circuit board. It stung her eyes even from a distance.