Cliffhanger (The Belinda & Bennett Mysteries, Book One) (5 page)

Chapter 6

After
contemplating how her family name might help her in her quest for the real
Bennett Tate, Belinda just took the boring route and searched for him online.
The only real glimmer of hope was in Tate Security, but with no photos of the
owner, she couldn't be sure it was him. So Belinda had Victoria make an
appointment under a false name. It might have been more of a ruse than
necessary, but it was much more exciting than just calling Stellan.

Belinda turned in
slow circles around the blank canvas of a bedroom in the upstairs of Victoria's house. Or, rather, the future nursery of Baby Hart. Victoria and Belinda had
painted several strips of different colors side by side on the wall. With no
shades on the windows, the sun hit the room at full force, practically blinding
her.

"I know the
color swatches are a little early." Victoria patted her still-flat tummy.
"But I just couldn't wait."

She handed
Belinda a glass of water and examined the rainbow of selections. On her bare
feet, Victoria barely came up to Belinda's shoulders. Would their child be
short and petite like her mother? Or tall and wiry like his dad?

"Does Dan
have a color preference? I mean, despite the gender."

"He hates
green, but that's all he's saying for the moment." Victoria leaned against
the wall. "Just wait, though. As soon as it's time to buy the paint, he'll
suddenly hate the color I've chosen. It never fails."

"I thought
he had no opinions on these matters?"

Victoria laughed.
"It's a myth, my dear. A total myth."

After doing all
the damage they could in the nursery, they switched headquarters to the office
on the first floor. Victoria scrolled through the items on Belinda's cousin's
wedding registry online, zooming in on pieces here and there as she or Belinda
pointed to things. As they got towards the end, both of them developed lemon
faces.

"This is the
saddest wedding registry I've ever laid eyes on," Victoria said.
"Candle holders? Really?"

"I
procrastinated and now all the good gifts are taken."

"Do they
actually want a bread maker? I mean, does anyone actually use those
things?"

Belinda slanted
her eyes. "Don't you have a bread maker?"

"Yes, one of
our wedding presents, and guess where it is?"

"The
attic?"

"The attic.
We used it once—maybe twice—right after we got married when we were excited to
cook and clean and make fresh bread. But we would always remember that we could
make bread when it was time to eat and then it was too late, so we finally gave
up and heaved it into storage with the other rejected wedding gifts."

"The cappuccino
maker would be fun."

"Belinda, I
am not spending two-hundred dollars so the princess can have café-style cappuccino
without changing out of her PJs."

Belinda sighed.
"So what then? The forty-dollar iced tea pitcher?"

"We could
buy them an ice pick."

"And you're
complaining that nobody uses a bread maker?"

"Hey, there
is more than one use for an ice pick." Victoria grinned. "Could come
in handy past the honeymoon period."

"Yes, let's
buy the happy couple their future murder weapon."

The doorbell
rang, making them both jump. Victoria snickered and skipped out of the room,
winking as she partially closed the office door. Showtime. Belinda could hear
talking from the front room and tiptoed to peek through the crack in the door.

Victoria shook
hands with a tall guy with dark brown hair in a sweater over a collared shirt
and jeans. Well, that proved it. Bennett Tate owned Tate Security. Now what?
Belinda frowned. She hadn't thought this all the way through. The phone rang
and Victoria excused herself, floating off to the kitchen.

Belinda stepped
away from the door, her sneaker squeaking on the wood floor. She winced,
keeping perfectly still. After a few seconds, she relaxed. Then the door swung
open and Bennett stood on the threshold. Belinda's face turned the color of
pink tulips as his mouth turned up and gray eyes glistened.

Busted.

When the head
spinning passed and Bennett's face came into focus, his gray eyes the color of
those funny dogs with a weird name that are famous because of a photographer,
he expected her to do something. Then she realized he had stretched out his
hand.
My he has hairy arms,
she thought, but he actually gave her hand a
firm shake instead of the half-hearted business most people offered.

"Tell me
about Victoria's party plans," Bennett said, his eyes glinting.

"Oh...well,
there isn't much to say really. I imagine there will be a few people here. Or,
a lot since she's hiring you. Your company that is. To do security." Belinda
glanced at the kitchen. What was Victoria doing?

"So this
isn't a joint affair?" he said sarcastically.

So that's how it
was going to be. Belinda slanted her eyes. "Do you work parties a
lot?"

Bennett shrugged.
"A few here and there. It's mostly more official events." He crooked
one bushy eyebrow. "Are you planning something too?"

"You'd be
the first to know." Belinda flushed. "I mean...you come well
recommended."

Bennett's eyes
glinted all the more.
Well, enjoy it, gray-eyed eagle,
Belinda thought.
Eventually, when she regained her wits, he'd have a hard time keeping up.

"The murder
hasn't put you off?" he said. At first, Belinda thought he was attempting
to make light of things, but between his tone and expression, especially the
lack of luster in his eyes, he was obviously concerned that it would.

She swallowed,
feeling her pants for non-existent pockets. "You did your job and that may
not have even happened when you were there." Belinda's stomach churned
thinking how close she had been to an actual murder. "Plus, you weren't
the only person in the house."

"True. But most
of the people were in the living room, and with the music so loud and the waves
crashing, I doubt anyone would have heard if he—" Bennett stopped in his
tracks, aware that Belinda's eyes had about doubled in size. He shook his head.
"It doesn't matter."

Belinda smiled,
fascinated and disturbed simultaneously. "You sound like a police
detective. In fact, you were once, weren't you? I read it on your site."

The light
returned to his eyes. "You looked at my website?"

"Mostly your
bio." Belinda felt her face grow hot again. Why couldn't she censor
better? And, furthermore, why did he have to enjoy it so much? "Why did
you leave? You seem like you're made for the job."

Bennett shifted
his gaze to the side. "I like the puzzles. I don't like the politics.
Let's leave it at that."

"So how did
you get into security?" In the back of her mind, Belinda knew that Victoria had disappeared for quite a long time.

"Primarily
because of happenstance. I did some private investigating work with Parker—"

"The
detective who interviewed me?"

Bennett
half-smiled. "That's him. A client asked if we did security. Jonas wasn't
interested, but I liked the sounds of it, and one thing led to another and
eventually I retired from the force and started Tate Security full-time."

"Do you ever
miss it? The police work?"

"I never
made it to Jonas' position so I'd have to say no. Most of what we did was
tedious and boring. The private investigating was a smidge better, but—"
He cut himself off. "It was still dull."

Belinda doubted
the "but" in that sentence was supposed to lead to a repeat of the
previous one. "So security isn't boring?"

The little
flicker came back into his eyes. "Not right now."

Belinda's heart
rate picked up. "Well, I'm glad. That you're not bored. Right now."
She clasped her hands, pressing them together to try and stop the rambling.

Victoria
materialized, looking pleased as punch, a twinkle in her hazel eyes.

Bennett crossed
his arms and looked down at both of them like two naughty students in his
class. "Am I hired, or should I assume the party's a charade, Mrs.
Victoria Hart?"

Victoria looked
surprised. "How did you—?"

"Your names
are out front on one of the garden gnomes."

"I forgot
about that," she whispered guiltily to Belinda.

Bennett
half-smiled.

"You
wouldn't tell me anything," Belinda said in a huff. "You're at
Stellan's party, but clearly not for that reason. You act like I should know
you at the market. I thought I was going nuts. How else was I supposed to find
out who you are?"

"You could
ask."

Belinda's eyes
flashed, gold flecks shining like the lights on the bridge at night. "You
should have your photo on the website!"

"Why? This
is much more interesting. Maybe a waste of time, but still."

"I am not a
waste of time, sir." Belinda stood with her hands on her hips, stretching
to her full height. "I'm a Kittridge."

Victoria glanced
from Belinda to Bennett.

"You have a
paint smudge on your nose," he said matter-of-factly. "And I never
said you were a waste of my time."

Belinda's eyes
widened and he excused himself with a smile on his lips and left while Belinda
ran to the bathroom. "Why didn't you tell me I had a pink paint smudge on
my nose?"

"Calm down,
Kittridge. It's not that bad."

"Not that
bad!" Belinda pointed at the tip of her nose. Right on top of her ski jump
was a strawberry pink smear. "Honestly! Every moment of my life since I
got back has been a scene from a sitcom."

"It's not
just since you got back, hon."

Belinda glared.

"So I was
totally right about him." Victoria leaned against the door frame. "I
don't think you need to worry about seeing him again. He's going to work it out
one way or another."

Belinda shrugged.
"So what if he does? It doesn't mean I want to see him." She scrubbed
her nose, but it only grew red with pink icing.

"Don't even
bother playing that card with me. I know you're anything but indifferent."

"If I didn't
have to think about Baby Hart, I would whack you in the face with a throw
pillow. You're a terrible best friend."

"What are
you talking about? I'm an awesome best friend. I just got you your third
encounter with Hot Security Guy."

"You can
tell yourself that as the evening news cuts to an unflattering candid of me
reporting that I'm missing."

"Would you
feel better if I choose a flattering candid of you?"

Belinda rolled
her eyes up to the ceiling. "Maybe."

Victoria smiled.
"So that was exciting. What do we do next?"

Belinda gave up
and dried her face off. "I think I should talk with Stellan. He's always
in the know."

"You want to
see if he knows anything about Jarrett?"

Belinda dabbed
her nose with the towel. "I'm worried about him. He's been really upset
since I got back."

"He's a kid.
He doesn't get it—yet."

"As true as
that may be, it doesn't mean he won't do something completely stupid. Besides,
Lily's acting all kinds of suspicious."

"I think
that may just be her nature."

"Well,
nature or not, I want to know what she's up to."

Chapter 7

That's not the
way Bennett planned on going, but the one-way lane he'd wanted to take while
trailing Belinda was blocked off because of a house demolition, so he took a
longer route along the cobblestones and onto the main loop through town.
Bearing right into the nucleus of shops and places to eat, Bennett took a sharp
left up a different one-way street to turn back the direction he actually
wanted to go.

Squeezing past
the parked cars on a road that was barely larger than an alley, he rose to the
peak where it curved left and dipped back down. In the cemetery nestled amid the
townhouses, he made out two people talking in the shade. One of those people
was Belinda Kittridge. Bennett pulled up the next street and parked cockeyed,
jogging back to the cemetery. He hung around just before the wrought-iron fence
protecting the graveyard, straining to hear. He hadn't been able to get a good
look at her companion, but Belinda was still talking rapidly. She sounded
frantic.

"This is
going to open up everything," she whispered harshly. "It's probably
connected, and that means we...all of us will be suspects."

"I still
don't know what you want me to do about it."

Bennett listened
closely while pretending to check something on his phone, but his head shot up
instantly when he heard his client talking—Stellan Mayhew. Bennett's brow
furrowed trying to put that together.

"I just want
to know what actually happened that day," Belinda said. "You two
haven't told us the whole truth."

"Why do you
think we've been lying? You and Kyle constantly seem to forget that Mark was
our friend too. And we were just as upset and just as frustrated as you."

Belinda was
quiet. Bennett's mind had been racing to figure out the topic of their
conversation, but now he knew. They were talking about the sailing accident.

"You could
just as easily know something I don't," Stellan said.

Bennett could
hear the surprise, or even alarm, in Belinda's silence, but she recovered
quickly.

"I wasn't
there."

"But you saw
him before, didn't you? Or am I not supposed to know that?"

Bennett strained
to hear as a car passed.

"...not
meant to be a secret."

"But it
was," Stellan said, "even after. You never came out with it."

"What was
the point?" Now she sounded angry. "It was just as well that no one
knew."

"So you
wouldn't have to go head-to-head with Lily?" Stellan snorted. "You're
afraid of her, just like Mark."

"I am not
afraid of her, and neither was he."

"Prove
it."

There was a pause
as if Belinda was deciding how to respond. "Mark broke up with her."

Bennett worked to
keep pace, but it was tough not knowing the point of their debate.

"Did Lily
know that?"

Bennett was
pretty sure Belinda scowled. "I think you're confusing Mark with
yourself."

Bennett raised
his eyebrows. She had an acidic undercurrent to her, didn't she?

"And I think
you're confusing Mark with the hero he's been played up to be since he
died." Stellan's tone turned venomous. "Turns out he was just as
imperfect as the rest of us when he slipped and cracked his skull open on the
deck of his own boat."

Bennett heard a
thwack, and realized Belinda slapped Stellan.

"If you
hadn't been smashed," Belinda choked out, "you would have been able
to save him!"

Stellan was quiet
long enough for Bennett to wonder if he'd left. But then he spoke, and he
sounded weary. "No one could have saved him, Belinda. Not even you."

Bennett heard
crunching and when no more conversation was forthcoming, he figured they'd
split. He walked over to the fence, taking a cautious peek. Belinda was huddled
under a tree, her face hidden but body convulsing from sobs. Bennett turned to
leave, but couldn't just walk away with her like that.

"Hey!"
he said through the fence. It seemed rude, but it was easy to fake just walking
by that way. "Are you all right?"

Belinda stood up
with a jerk, hastily wiping her face with her sleeves. "I'm fine."
She stayed under the tree, looking ready to bolt the other direction.

Bennett wrapped
his fingers through the fence posts, the metal sending a shock of cold up his
arms. "Can I help?"

Belinda took a
hesitant step forward, coming out of the shadow of the tree. She looked like a
scared rabbit. "I doubt it."

"Try
me." Bennett forced one corner of his mouth up. Smiling put people at
ease, right?

"I'm...I'm
just scared by everything that's happened."

"Do you want
to talk about it?"

Belinda's eyes
went to the ground, processing his question. "Maybe later."

Well, it was
worth a try. Bennett shrugged casually.

Belinda took
another step toward the fence. "You always seem to be here for the
catastrophes."

"Well, you
know, you're like a type of car."

Belinda's eyes
narrowed.

"I—I mean,
I'm like a type of car." He struggled to remember the metaphor Jonas had
used. "You've never seen me before and now...now you see me...all the
time." Bennett felt his neck grow hot under his collar. This is why he
preferred to keep quiet.

Belinda approached
the fence, placing her hands above his on the posts. Her brown eyes started to
regain some of their golden sparkle. "I have no idea what you're talking
about, but thank you for wanting to help."

Bennett
swallowed. "Would you like me to walk you back to your car or
something?"

"What kind
of 'or something' do you have in mind?"

Bennett just
threw that in there without thinking about it. He didn't have a response
planned. "The kind that includes pastries?"

Belinda laughed.
"Thank you. I'd like it if you walked me back to my car."

Bennett nodded
and waited patiently for her to walk back around. They strolled along, Belinda
gazing off thoughtfully. "Mark is buried at that cemetery," she said
after several minutes. "It's Jeff's murder, you know? It's taking us all
back there."

Bennett fought to
think of something to say that wasn't what he wanted to say. He couldn't let
her know he'd heard her conversation with Stellan, but his curiosity wanted to
get the better of him.

"Do you have
any moment in your life that you just wish you could do over with what you know
now?" she said.

Bennett got the
feeling she was talking about Mark again. But which moment in particular? He
hated to acknowledge the one thing that immediately came to his own mind.
"Honestly, more than one. But, yeah."

Belinda stopped
and turned to face him, her arms wrapped around her body and eyes red from
crying. A breeze rolled up the street and Bennett inhaled the fresh smell of
spring. Even the red and blue and yellow houses flanking them, hundreds of
years old, looked like they stood a little taller next to a tree in bud.
Belinda dug her toe between bricks on the sidewalk.

"I have
something I wish I could do over," Belinda said softly. Bennett tuned out
the spring air and general good feeling of the world around him, positive she
was about to reveal something important. "I went to get something I'd left
on Mark's boat the night before he died, and—"

A car broke into
her speech, but instead of passing, it careened to a stop right next to them.
Jarrett's head popped out of the driver's side. Bennett steamed, his face
blackening as Jarrett's teeth flashed in a smile. He wanted to bulldoze the
kid's car with his SUV.

Unlike at the
market, Jarrett pretended like Bennett wasn't even remotely an obstacle to his
romancing Belinda and ignored Bennett's glacier stare. Either the kid was
running on hormones or he was really happy about something. Belinda tensed,
rubbing the back of her neck, as Jarrett chatted, perfectly oblivious to her
discomfort.

As soon as the
kid paused to take a breath, blabbing on about the new song his band was trying
to learn, Bennett jumped in. "I think we better move on." Belinda's
eyes betrayed relief when she met his, and a joy Bennett couldn't quite
understand swelled inside of him.

"Are you
late again?" Jarrett spat. Apparently, he'd met his happiness quotient for
the day.

Bennett wrapped
his arm around Belinda, slipping his fingers around her hip, and shot a smile
Jarrett's way. Belinda seemed to regain some of her usual verve and stood up a
little straighter. "I'm sorry, Jarrett. I need to get back to packing.
With everything that's happened, I'm dragging my heels on it."

Jarrett's eyes
softened and he nodded. "Yeah, I get that. You've got to get ready for the
demo and all." He paused, probably hoping to draw out the conversation
more, but Belinda wasn't biting. "I'll catch you later then." With
one more cold look at Bennett, Jarrett sped off.

Bennett could
feel Belinda relax next to him. "You've been polishing your armor, haven't
you?" she said.

"You
shouldn't apologize."

"To who?"

"To Jarrett.
He's being a pest and ignoring the fact that you're uncomfortable with his
attention."

Belinda looked
surprised. "He's only—"

"He's old
enough to stalk you."

"He hasn't
been stalking me." Belinda glanced at him reprovingly.

"He seems to
show up everywhere you are."

"He lives
next door."

Bennett shrugged.
"It's still odd."

"About as
odd as, let's say, you showing up at every turn? And I can't say you live
anywhere near me." Belinda folded her arms, her eyes back to normal.

She was smart,
and catching on. Bennett liked that.

He decided to
take the conversation down a different street. "Do I make you
uncomfortable?"

Surprise lit up
her eyes. "I haven't decided yet."

"Then maybe
I should give you more time."

Belinda's arms
dropped and she rubbed the tip of her finger. "Just as long as you don't
kidnap me again."

Bennett smirked,
falling into pace with her down the sidewalk. "Where were we? Before
Jarrett interrupted us?" Bennett knew exactly where they were, but he
wanted to give her a chance to volunteer.

Belinda's face
look troubled. "I...I can't recall."

So much for that.
Bennett guessed that he and Jarrett were now even after the market incident. It
made no difference. She'd now given away that she welcomed his presence, so he
wasn't about to disappoint her.

~ * ~

Victoria took
several turns down side streets the next afternoon, heading towards Lily's
house. They went uphill, Belinda putting down her window to inhale the salt
air. In an enclave beyond where most people traveled, Lily's family's house was
nestled behind a gate. Belinda wanted to check it out to learn why she was back
in Portside—and what she might want with a kid like Jarrett.

"So we just
watch to see what happens?" Victoria said, biting into a candy bar.
"What if she doesn't leave?"

Belinda shrugged.

"What if you
can't get inside if she does leave? Unlike your house, this woman appears to be
serious about her security. And they have a much bigger gate and wall than you
guys do."

Belinda sighed.
"This might be a complete waste of time."

"Nonsense.
You're a Kittridge, remember?"

Belinda cringed.
"I actually said that, didn't I?"

"Yep." Victoria licked chocolate from her fingers. "But he enjoyed it immensely."

"Do you
really think that?"

"Absolutely.
He basically said so himself. After all, you, Belinda Kittridge," Victoria dropped her voice an octave, "are never a waste of time." She pondered
that. "You know, I bet he knew it was us all along."

"And he
still came?"

"Why not?
He'd get to see you."

Belinda didn't
want to admit it right then, but she kind of liked that idea.

After close to an
hour of twirling her hair, discussing possible names for Belinda's shop, and
eating one of Victoria's candy bars, the gate finally slid open and Lily zipped
out of her driveway in her silver convertible. Belinda and Victoria hunched
over as she passed, just hoping Lily didn't see them. As soon as she'd
disappeared around the bend, Belinda jumped out of the car.

"Keep
watch!" she said before slamming the door.

Victoria watched
as Belinda squeaked through the gate before it trapped her inside. Belinda
caught her breath and marched around to the back entrance, peering inside where
it was dark and empty. She found a side window open and with a little pressure,
popped the screen out and climbed through. Belinda dashed up the stairs to find
Lily's bedroom. Not that she knew what she was looking for. Just any clues to
what Lily's ulterior motive could be for coming back to Portside. Notes,
tickets, receipts. Anything.

Belinda found the
room she suspected belonged to Lily. She glanced out the window and all she
could see was sky—and the occasional head bobbing along the Ocean Walk beyond
the backyard. The house was insanely quiet except for the chatter of walkers
blown up by the wind.

After peeking
into a few dresser drawers, Belinda found an envelope buried under some
clothes. Money? She pulled it out out of curiosity. Inside was a thick stack of
photographs. Belinda flipped through them, the first few just of Mark.

Belinda sighed.
He had been a handsome guy. Bronze year-round like Kyle with milk chocolate
brown hair that had the slightest bit of curl at the ends. And blue eyes. But
not light blue like most people. They were dark like indigo. She wondered what
he would look like now. Where he would be. Who he would be with...

The stack slipped
from her grasp, all one-hundred photos splaying out onto the wood floor.
Belinda panicked, trying to corral them with her palms when she caught glimpses
of herself in a couple of the photos. Then she noticed she was in several of
them. Looking closer, she realized she was in almost every single photograph,
except the first few.