Foiled (The Belinda & Bennett Mysteries, Book Seven)

by Amy Saunders

  Maybe Vincent and his ambitions were just that, and the real culprit was not as obvious. As much as Belinda wanted to spy on the granddaughter, Vincent and Marie Sinclair seemed a lot more pressing.

  Carmichael bid them good-bye a few minutes later, lingering over her nana before swaggering out. She shut the front door, her smile dissipating. “I hope he helped you,” her nana said, “because I’ll never be able to get rid of him now.”

  Belinda tried to restrain her smile. “You have to give him credit for loyalty. This has been going on for years.”

  “He is persistent.” Her nana took Belinda’s arm and they ambled back to the porch. “But never mind me. Other than investigating, did you and Bennett enjoy your little jaunt away from Portside?”

  Belinda forced a smile. She’d withheld some details of their time in Southwood–namely the near-death experience and finding a body. “We did have a nice dinner out one night.”

  “Oh?” Her nana’s blue eyes twinkled mischievously.

  Belinda waved it off, but a smile crept along her lips despite herself. “It wasn’t that thrilling. But it was nice to not bump into anyone we know for a change.” Nearly every night out meant seeing someone they knew, at least if they went anywhere nice. “Everybody recognizes Bennett now too, which makes it tough to be by ourselves.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard he’s a hit on the golf course.”

  Belinda rolled her eyes. Once people discovered he could play well, he got invitations regularly. Partly for that and partly because they wanted to bombard him with their security questions. Bennett took it well, though she knew it wasn’t his favorite thing to do in the world.

  “I think he’d rather play pool with Jonas,” Belinda said, shrugging a shoulder. “But he’s handling society life like a pro, so I can’t complain.”

  “Neither can the ladies around here. Especially when you two show up at the pool or private beach.” Her nana chuckled.

  Apparently, she had heard gossip that missed Belinda’s ears. “I guess I can’t blame them. Though, they’ve never seen him in a Speedo.”

  Her grandmother laughed. “I’m sure they’ve imagined it.”

  Belinda couldn’t help laughing herself. “He is eye candy.” As well as a lot of other things, in Belinda’s humble opinion. “It was a complete accident that I found him, but I have no intention of giving him back.”

  “Bennett reminds me a little of your grandfather.” Her nana’s eyes twinkled ever so slightly. “More reserved, for sure, but I don’t know…there’s something about him sometimes, and I could swear it was your grandfather when he was young.” She smiled at the memory, her cheeks glowing more than a minute ago.

  Belinda smiled, hoping she would feel just as twinkly about Bennett in the decades to come. For now, she was happy to parade him around and have all the Portside women dish about him over lunch. And she was also glad her family had taken to Bennett so easily.

  “That’s a huge compliment,” Belinda said, having fond memories of spending summers with her grandparents.

  Her grandmother waved it off, her cheeks pinker now. “Bennett is his own man.”

  He certainly was. And one Belinda planned on keeping around.

  Chapter 16

  Despite moments of panic, Belinda had almost forgotten about Bennett’s warning that the Southwood police would come knocking when the doorbell rang the next afternoon.

  She’d been immersed in paperwork and Cake Diva recipe testing, practicing her piping since Mia was away. A trusted baker friend of Mia’s had stepped in to assist, but Belinda was still determined to improve her skills.

  When the doorbell rang, she expected Bennett, or Victoria, to be on the other side, and swung it open without checking. But instead of either of them, she found a man with a receding hairline and an orange striped tie on the threshold. He held up a badge. “Ms. Kittridge?”

  Belinda nodded faintly, licking icing from her finger, and trying to read his name on the ID card.

  “I’m Detective Carl Suter investigating the murder of Elizabeth Hall, and I need to clarify some things you said after you found the body. For example, giving your name as”–he glanced at a small notebook–“Jessie Holbrook.” He gave her a humorless smile.

  Belinda gulped and stood aside to let him in, wiping her hands on her apron.

  He meandered toward the kitchen, gazing around. “This is a nice house.”

  “It’s my grandmother’s,” Belinda stated automatically. “I rent it with my brother.”

  “Yes…your partner made it clear about your family connections.”

  Belinda’s eyes snapped to him. “My partner?”

  “Partner…friend…” Detective Suter shrugged. “Mr. Tate didn’t make your relationship clear.”

  Belinda marched right up to him, her apprehension suddenly gone. “You already talked to him? Where is he?”

  “We brought him in for questioning this morning.” He glanced over her head. “I’ve heard his side of the story, now I’d like to hear yours.”

  Belinda’s thoughts darted in different directions for a moment, but she didn’t want to hesitate too long. “We were investigating the death of Henry Lawson for a client.”

  “A client?”

  “Yes. A client. I’m not at liberty to name them.”

  “That’s very unfortunate.” The detective clasped his hands in front of him. “You lied about your names and found a body, and your boyfriend has been in trouble before.” He tilted his head. “This doesn’t look good for you.”

  Belinda stiffened, her eyes narrowing. “We had no reason to kill Elizabeth Hall. We’d never met her before. Besides, you should really be looking into the accidents. Whoever was behind those probably killed Hall, too.”

  “Accidents?”

  Belinda studied him a moment to see if he was playing her or not. He looked sincere. If so, no one they’d interviewed had bothered to mention them? Even now with the Warden dead? “Yes, accidents. Nobody told you about what’s happened at the house in the last few days?”

  He kept a neutral expression, so she wasn’t sure what was going on in his head. “Why don’t you?”

  Belinda took a breath. “First off, nobody in the house wanted to talk about Lawson’s death. If they did, the Warden–Hall–scared them off. Then, after I talked to a girl who worked there, she got her arm sliced open while packing and then was dismissed. A day later, an ax nearly landed on Bennett’s head and another employee, who quit. I don’t know how Hall felt about the first incident, but she was obviously shaken by the second, though she wouldn’t own up to it. And we believe this all somehow ties back to Lawson’s death, which also looks like an accident, by the way.”

  The detective scribbled something down, glancing up. “And you would have information about Lawson’s death that we don’t?”

  Belinda hesitated, glancing away. “Not exactly. But considering everything else, I believe it’s a little strange.” She glanced over at her unfinished cupcake piping job. “However Lawson died, we still think all this other stuff–including this murder–is somehow linked to it. The mood in the house was almost…suspicious. Like they didn’t trust outsiders. And that seems odd, especially given the circumstances.”

  The detective shut his notebook, his lips pinched together. “Is there anything else?”

  “Actually, yes.” Belinda folded her arms. “You should talk to Alex, who was hurt the first time. I think she knows more than she let on and she’s worked for Lawson for a while.”

  “Duly noted.” He shoved his notebook in his back pocket, not acting like he’d really taken note of anything she’d said. Then he headed for the door.

  Belinda followed. “Are you holding Bennett?”

  “No.” The detective stopped with his hand on the doorknob, turning halfway round to see her. “But neither of you should leave Portside right now. We’ll be in touch.” He gave her another humorless smile and left.

  Belinda watched him drive away, then called
Bennett, realizing her heart was beating out of her chest as she waited for him to pick up. She sat down at the dining room table since she still couldn’t sit on the couch, exhausted from the encounter. As soon as Bennett had reassured her, several times over, that he was fine and not under arrest, she said, “I don’t like foreign police officers.”

  “Foreign as in…”

  “Not from Portside.” She frowned. “I have zero hope that he’ll talk to Alex or look more closely at Lawson’s death.”

  “Well,” Bennett said, between mouthfuls of something, “we were using fake names. Are you surprised he didn’t want to listen to you?”

  Belinda looked with longing at the kitchen from her seat in the dining room, suddenly wanting to nosh on the cupcakes instead of practicing on them. “No,” she said despondently. “I told you no one appreciates me except Jonas.”

  “I know, but we’re just going to have to work with what we’ve got right now.” He gulped and added, “And I’m sure under better circumstances Detective Suter would appreciate you too.”

  Belinda half smiled. “I almost believed that. But”–Belinda stroked Aria’s gray head as she jumped up onto her lap–“I think we’re on our own in terms of finding out what really happened to Henry Lawson.”

  “I agree. Of course,” he paused again, taking another gulp, “we haven’t found any proof that Lawson didn’t just trip and fall down those stairs on his own.”

  Belinda’s stomach growled, listening to him eat. “True. But this murder and the accidents have to be tied to his death. Whether he died by accident or not.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “Of course I am.” Belinda stood and Aria jumped to the floor. “But I don’t know where that leaves us. What do you think we should do next?”

  Bennett sighed, taking his sweet time before answering. Belinda paced, fiddling with her piping bag. “Any time now,” she said finally.

  “I’m thinking. Just give me a sec.”

  After much more time than a “sec” went by in Belinda’s estimation, Bennett finally said, “Let’s stick with our plan to follow the granddaughter. You saw her sneak off, and it seems she was somewhat close with her grandfather. She could be hiding something. It’s worth a try, anyway. If we come up empty, oh well. We’ll follow Vincent Sutcliffe and Marie Sinclair around and see where they lead us instead.”

  It may not have been a perfect plan, but it was a plan. And at least they’d be in motion. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

  Before Bennett responded, the side door slammed, and Kyle yelled out, “Bels!”

  Belinda sucked in a breath, scuttling back to the dining room. “I’ll call you back, okay? I haven’t told Kyle anything yet.” She hung up before Bennett responded to that either. Kyle sauntered into the living room and angled toward her. “Hey,” Belinda said, waving a hand.

  Ignoring that, Kyle jabbed a thumb behind him, his eyebrows knitting together. “I just passed a police car on my way in.”

  Oh, foo, Belinda thought. She’d hoped she could keep some of what was going on from Kyle. Apparently not. “Yeah?” She tried to be cool and act casual about it. Police cars passed on their street sometimes.

  “Not far from the house, actually,” he continued, getting closer. His sunglasses were propped on his head, his golden-brown hair sticking out like feathers around his ears. She wanted to smile, but his eyes, the same brown as hers, were a little intense for that. “Were they here by some chance?”

  Belinda batted her lashes, hoping to embody innocence itself with her doe eyes. Bennett claimed it did work on some level. Even if not very well with people who knew her. “Why would you ask that?” She tried to sound indignant. After all, she was hardly a criminal.

  “You know the last time I saw a police car on this street?”

  Belinda shook her head when it appeared the question wasn’t rhetorical.

  “I don’t even remember,” he said. “That’s how long ago it was. And they were coming from this direction.”

  Belinda snorted. “You’re rarely even here, especially during the day. And even if you were, you probably wouldn’t notice a police car even if one went by.”

  “Okay.” Kyle set down his empty travel coffee mug and pile of mail on the dining table, folding his arms. “You’re here more often, so how often do the police come by?”

  Belinda shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m busy. I don’t sit by the window and count passing cars. But tourist season is picking up and there are people pouring in and they were probably just patrolling.”

  Kyle stared back, unimpressed, the wrinkle above the bridge of his nose growing deeper. “What were they doing here? It has something to do with what happened at Lawson’s place, doesn’t it?”

  “If you’re going to answer your own questions–”

  “Just tell me what’s going on, so I don’t have to find out another way. Because I will.”

  “Is that a threat?” Belinda narrowed her eyes, hoping to delay the inevitable as much as possible.

  “It’s a warning that you can’t blab your way out of this. You can talk in circles and try and deflect attention, but it won’t work.”

  Belinda wrinkled her nose. She figured the doe eyes wouldn’t work on her brother. After a short stare down, which she knew he would win in the end, Belinda capitulated, raising her arms in surrender. “Fine. I’ll tell you. We found a murder victim–a real one–and the Southwood police discovered we were using false names. Okay? That’s it.” She set her hands on the table, about to push up.

  But Kyle wasn’t letting her get away that easily. “You’re suspects now?”

  Belinda sighed, really, really wanting to wriggle out of this conversation. “I guess so. But we weren’t surprised.” Well, Bennett wasn’t surprised. She was a little surprised, but Kyle didn’t need to know that. “Look,” she continued before he interrupted, “we had no idea anyone would be killed while we were there. Obviously, we have nothing to do with it. This’ll get sorted. Don’t worry.”

  Kyle still looked unimpressed.

  “I’ve been in worse scrapes.” Much worse, she added in her head. “If anything, this might be a good thing. Maybe the police will find out what we haven’t and solve everything and we can just call it a day.” Not that she’d felt so confident a few minutes ago. But it could happen.

  Kyle quirked an eyebrow, arms still folded tight across his chest. “You’re just leaving it to them?”

  He sounded dubious, and Belinda hesitated. “Well…not exactly…”

  Kyle sighed now, shaking his head.

  “It’s fine,” Belinda said. “The undercover job is over, so I think the worst is behind us.”

  “By worst, you mean finding a murder victim?”

  “Yeah.” And some other stuff, which she wasn’t about to reveal at that moment.

  “You two need to go on vacation or something. Or take up gardening.” He carried his mug to the kitchen sink, leaving the mail splayed on the table.

  “Bennett already gardens.” In fact, his purple azalea bushes had exploded that year. They’d grown since she first saw his house.

  “Then maybe he should garden more.” Kyle dumped out his remaining coffee from that morning, pulling out a spoon. “And drag you along to help.”

  “I do help.” Sort of, she thought. She’d put dirt around a tree he’d planted that spring. That counted for something.

  “You should help more.” After disappearing near the fridge, Kyle reappeared, digging the spoon into a container of Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia. Then he glanced at the cupcakes, sitting unguarded on the counter as if debating how well they’d go with his ice cream. “Amateur investigating doesn’t count as a hobby.”

  “I never said it did.” Belinda thought longingly of chocolate gelato as she watched him down ice cream. “But technically, this is all partially your fault. If you hadn’t disappeared a year ago, I might never have gone down this path.”

  Kyle took another spoonful of ic
e cream, shaking his head. “Don’t blame me. I have not encouraged this.”

  “Never mind that.” Belinda pushed up from her seat. Kyle was many things, but he’d never been any good at controlling her or staying mad at her. This would pass soon enough, then he’d be back to normal again. “Finish your ice cream and call Gisel. Tell her I love the coffee she sent me.”

  “You’re not getting off that easy,” he garbled out with his mouth full.

  Belinda patted his shoulder as she passed. “Thanks, big brother, but I think I am.”

  She grinned as his eyes narrowed in her direction. “I am not your big brother.”

  “Mm-hmm,” Belinda said, marching through the kitchen.

  “I’m your twin and barely older than you!”

  “Whatever you say!” Belinda darted up the stairs to her room, smiling as he still shouted protests up after her. Sometimes it was nice having something in your back pocket.

  Chapter 17

  Bennett made the mistake of showing up at Belinda’s house while she was out on a coffee run. He’d gone over on a whim that afternoon, just to check on her again after her police encounter the previous day. The only reason it was a mistake was that it left him alone with Victoria, who took advantage of the situation, wanting to know why there was no ring on Belinda’s finger.

  There was no distraction, not even Willa, who was napping in Belinda’s room. Victoria was free to drill him.

  Bennett bit down his irritation. He would have already proposed at the fundraiser if that woman hadn’t run across the lawn and ruined it. And while part of him felt sorry for saying that, another part of him just wished this whole investigation had gone through the front door that night. It would’ve saved them some trouble.

  “I don’t know when any of you think I would’ve had a chance to ask,” he said, maybe not quite as unruffled as he’d thought a second ago. “We barely had a chance to talk in Southwood. So, unless the car ride home was romantic enough for you, I don’t think this is a good time.”

  Victoria glanced to the side, her arms dropping. “I was just curious. She told me you went out to dinner one night, so I thought…” Victoria shrugged, not bothering to finish.