by Amy Saunders
The sound they’d both heard was faint. Not even a creak or a squeak. And the house was old and probably cracked and hissed at the slightest breeze. But it was enough to set her on edge.
“Crawl,” Bennett hissed, shoving her farther onto the landing.
Belinda tried to crawl fast but quiet, which was a really tough thing to do she realized. Especially with Bennett on her heels and her heart thumping in her chest. Not knowing where to go, and completely blind, she headed for the room she remembered, the one she’d cleaned out originally with all the papers, feeling along the wall for any sign of a door.
She finally felt a door frame, and it seemed the door was open. They crawled inside, Belinda carefully getting to her feet and feeling around for obstacles, though she figured everything was gone by then. Once she stood, Bennett grabbed her arm, making her jump, her skin turning ice cold in an instant.
They moved behind the door, Bennett standing in front of her. He flipped his flashlight over, wielding it like a weapon. Belinda did the same, taking deep breaths. There were no other sounds that she could make out except her own breathing and her heart pumping in her ears.
Then she heard it. A slight squeak on the stairs outside. Nothing major. Almost minor enough to write off as your imagination. But she wasn’t writing it off. Not right then. Not in that house. Not in the dark.
Belinda gripped the back of Bennett’s jacket to keep from bolting out of sheer anticipation. But she froze when she felt a presence at the door. Belinda’s eyes had started to adjust to the dark, but it was so pitch black she still couldn’t make out much. Could the person outside see better? She thought the door hid them from view, but now she worried someone could see them but not the other way around.
Was the person just standing there? Maybe they could feel another presence too. Or maybe Belinda was imagining it all and nobody was in the hallway. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could take it when there was one step–two steps–inside the room. Belinda was backed into the wall with nowhere else to go.
When the other person finally stepped close enough to the shaded window, just enough light coming in for Belinda to make out a silhouette, she lunged, swiping her flashlight across the back of the person’s head. He or she crumpled to the floor in a thud.
Bennett’s flashlight blinded her as he came forward. “What on earth was that?!”
Belinda stared down at the crumpled form, then back up at Bennett, whose eyebrows knitted together. She blinked back innocently. “I panicked.”
Bennett shook his head, kneeling over her flashlight victim. “Let’s hope you didn’t hit her that hard.”
“Her?” Belinda hurried beside him, bending for a closer look. She stood up straight, staring at Bennett in disbelief. “It’s Marie Sinclair.”
Chapter 25
The woman groaned, her eyelids flickering. Bennett handed over his flashlight to Belinda, taking his jacket off and rolled Marie Sinclair over, tucking it under her head. Her eyes opened briefly, then shot open wide, shifting from Belinda to Bennett.
Belinda knelt next to her, shining her light in her face. “Did you follow us here?” She could see Bennett giving her a look, but she ignored him. “Well, did you?”
Marie blinked. “I don’t even know who you are.” She sounded groggy, but aware of what was going on, which Belinda took as a good sign.
“Then what are you doing here?”
“I saw lights in the house,” Marie said, shading her eyes. “I was checking to see what was going on.”
“What about before that?” Belinda shifted on her knees. “You must have come over here on purpose. This house isn’t close to anyone.”
Marie glanced at Bennett, who just shrugged. She cupped her hand over Belinda’s flashlight, pushing up. “Who are you people?”
Belinda traded a glance with Bennett. “I’m Belinda Kittridge.” She waved a hand at Bennett. “And this is Bennett Tate.”
Belinda wasn’t sure Marie believed her at first. The woman snatched at Belinda’s hood, pulling it back off her head, examining her. After a moment, she harrumphed. “It is you. What on earth are you doing in Henry Lawson’s house?”
“We might ask you the same thing,” Belinda said. “Especially since you’re not related to him.”
Marie smacked Bennett’s arm as an indication for him to help her up. She got to her feet, dusting herself off, then placed a hand tentatively on the back of her head. “You’re aware I could press charges. You obviously broke in and you hit me with that.” Marie pointed to Belinda’s flashlight.
“I thought you were dangerous.”
Marie closed her eyes, sighing.
“Look,” Belinda said, not all that concerned about that, “we’re investigating the circumstances surrounding Lawson’s death. Now, what are you doing here in the middle of the night?” Executor of the will or not, it was an odd time of day to show up.
Marie studied her a moment with her lips pressed tight, then dropped her arm. “I’m looking for records he was supposed to have kept at the house, but nobody has seen them. Or, that’s what they’re claiming.”
“What kind of records?”
“Business records.”
“And you came here at night to look for them?” Bennett folded his arms. “Aren’t you the executor of Lawson’s will?”
“Yes, well, it wasn’t an easy task and has only become progressively harder.”
“Because of Elizabeth Hall’s murder?”
“That’s part of it. But even before that things were missing. Documents, records. I knew everything was backed up, but, company policy aside, I knew Henry had some amount of company information stored right in this house.”
“Against his own company’s policies?” Belinda tilted her head.
Marie smiled wryly. “I don’t think that’s how Henry saw it. And I know somebody was keeping him aware of what was going on behind closed doors.” She glanced away, and Belinda wondered if she was thinking about Vincent, too.
“So, you had Hall trying to keep a lock on everything–and everyone–here.”
Marie nodded. “I told her to watch things like a hawk. Not everything mattered that much. But I couldn’t be certain. Henry liked to squirrel things away for himself. It wouldn’t surprise me if there was more important company-related information mixed in with his personal records. But in the end, it didn’t do much good.” Her eyes dimmed, probably thinking about the Warden’s fate.
“Did Hall tell you about the accidents while they were cleaning out the house?” Belinda asked.
Marie nodded faintly.
“Did she know who was behind them?” Belinda watched her carefully.
“If she did, she never told me.” Marie lifted her head. “And I couldn’t even guess.”
“Do you think it’s possible that the accidents and the theft are related?”
Marie shrugged. “Anything’s possible. But we’d need proof, and everything connected to Henry is disappearing fast.”
Marie was right about that, Belinda thought, as she scanned the empty room. “Did a lot of people know that Henry stowed company info in his house?” If you were going to do that, Belinda realized it wasn’t smart to advertise it. But that didn’t necessarily mean anything.
Marie didn’t answer immediately. Belinda wondered if she was trying to decide what to say, or just unsure. “I only know about it because he told me as a part of the executor agreement. As soon as I knew he was dead, I rushed over to gather up the documents. But I realized soon enough that someone had already beaten me to them.”
“They were all gone?” Bennett said.
Marie shook her head. “No. Not even most. But Henry was a thorough person, and despite the chaos in parts of the house, he was a stickler for keeping tabs on things.”
Belinda found that tough to believe based on what they’d helped clean out. On the other hand, the private sectors of the house were in perfect order. Maybe he only cared about certain things.
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��I’m guessing,” Marie continued, “that whoever took the documents thought no one would even notice they were missing.”
“But you know what Henry kept here?”
“Everything.” Marie gave a small smile, like remembering something fondly. “I have a detailed inventory from the man himself. Like I said, he was thorough.”
Bennett nodded approval, clearly impressed. Belinda glanced over him, or what she could see in the light, imagining him doing the same thing. If Bennett was going to steal company information, he would keep track of it one way or another.
“Do you know why Henry kept the info here?” Belinda rested her flashlight across her other arm. “I mean…wasn’t that a security problem? Hence the policies against it?”
Marie’s mouth pursed in seriousness. “I understand what you’re thinking. And I wasn’t thrilled to learn about it at first. But he had his reasons.”
“Such as…?” Belinda prompted.
“Internal theft.” Marie folded her arms. “He was worried about corporate sabotage and the like.” She glanced away. “Oddly enough, his efforts to protect that information may have done the opposite.”
“And you don’t know if anyone else knew about it?” Bennett said.
Marie shook her head again. “If Henry told anyone else, which is highly unlikely, he didn’t let me know about it.”
“Okay,” Belinda said, leaning into one leg, “how would someone have found out, then? I’m assuming the records weren’t easy to get to.”
“No, but”–Marie glanced around–“as you can see, Henry’s security measures weren’t that high-tech, either. If somebody found out that he’d stowed them here, they probably could figure out how to access them.”
That presented some big problems, Belinda thought, recalling the people in and out of the house earlier. On the other hand, maybe not just anyone would know, or care, about it. “Would just anybody realize they were significant or useful?”
“I doubt it. You’d need a decent comprehension of not only our company but industry.”
“So, we may be talking about an employee?” Belinda said.
Marie nodded.
“That narrows it down,” Bennett said, his mouth flattening unhappily.
“Actually, it might.” Marie cocked her head to the side, her sandy hair flopping over in the back. “The average employee doesn’t know what’s going on in the top levels. Unless someone was feeding them intel, they wouldn’t know about these things.”
“Meaning the thief might be in the upper echelons of the company?” Belinda said.
“I would assume so.”
The only other person, other than Marie, that Belinda knew was connected to this case and in a high position in the company was Vincent Sutcliffe. Unless, of course, Marie was volunteering this information to deflect attention from herself. The thought made Belinda’s head hurt.
“Would someone be able to profit from stealing this information?” Belinda asked. If the information itself wasn’t of much value, it might not matter.
“If they know what they’re doing,” Marie said, “yes.”
“Have you told the police?” Bennett folded his arms.
“No.” Marie averted her eyes. “I’d like to handle this internally.”
“But what if it’s connected to the murder?” Belinda’s mind flicked to Henry Lawson. This was just another reason to think he was murdered.
Marie hesitated. “I really doubt Elizabeth had anything to do with stealing company secrets.”
Belinda and Bennett exchanged a glance. “Why not?” Belinda said. “She was in a perfect position to do so. She was a trusted employee with free reign over the house. What if someone was paying her to take them and pass them on?”
Belinda could tell that Marie was at a loss as to how to answer that question. “I’ll admit you have a point,” Marie said, rather reluctantly it seemed. “But I just have trouble picturing it.”
In truth, so did Belinda. However, people weren’t always what they seemed. “She could have caught the thief, then. Either way, considering that two people have died in this house recently, you might want to consider telling the police about the thefts.”
“Or you’ll tell them instead?” Marie arched an eyebrow.
Belinda shrugged a shoulder. “We don’t have the proof–you do. Besides, unless you have something to hide, you may as well tell them.” She could tell the latter part didn’t go over well. But Belinda didn’t care. As far as she could tell, everyone involved in this case had a secret.
“Duly noted.” Marie glanced over each of them as if assessing what they might do next. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going home.”
Belinda stepped aside, watching her melt into the dark again. After a few seconds, she finally saw a glimmer of a small light come on. She’d started to wonder if the woman had natural night vision or something.
Once Marie’s steps grew faint, Belinda whispered, “Are you going to tell Jonas about the thefts?”
“Of course,” Bennett said, his face indignant. “I don’t trust that woman any more than anyone else involved.” Then his eyes softened as he listed his head to one side, cupping her face with his hand. “Are you alright?”
Belinda half smiled, leaning into his palm. “I’m fine. I just panicked when she came in the room.”
Bennett guided her to him, kissing her forehead as she rested on his shoulder. “What now?” she said, her voice muffled.
“I’m thinking about what you said–that Elizabeth Hall could be the thief.” Bennett rested his chin on her head. “I don’t know about her, but Alex…maybe.”
Belinda lifted her head. “You think we should pay Alex another visit?”
“I don’t think it would hurt.”
“Tonight?” Belinda suppressed a smile as he brushed a lock of hair from her forehead.
“I think you’ve had enough excitement for one night.”
Belinda wrapped her arms around his waist, tipping her head back to still see his face. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
Bennett smiled, gazing down at her, almost dreamily. Either that, or he was debating something. Sometimes, even now, Belinda had a tough time reading his expressions. She let him think, her heart picking up the pace for no apparent reason. When she was about to cave and ask him what he was thinking, her phone twittered, startling her. She wanted it to ignore it, but the moment vanished as quickly as it started.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, grappling for her phone. She seriously hoped it wasn’t something stupid. She half expected it to be Kyle, awake and wanting to know where the leftover cupcakes were. But it wasn’t that mundane.
“Something important?” Bennett’s forehead wrinkled up, the airy expression he wore less than a second ago gone.
Belinda frowned, scanning over the message at first, then starting over and reading it word for word. “It’s Jonas. He’s ordering us back to Portside or he’ll arrest us.”
Bennett snorted derisively. “He could have at least said something I’d believe.”
She squinted in the light shining directly into her eyes as her phone twittered again. “Another text from Jonas. He says, ‘Tell Bennett, I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again.’” Belinda looked up, her brown eyes twinkling. “I guess he’s also a mind reader.”
Bennett’s lips curled up in a snarl.
“Or maybe Jonas just knows you far too well,” she added, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiled. “In any case, I think we should get back home before the Southwood police decide to show up for some reason. I get the feeling they won’t be as understanding.”
“That I do believe.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, guiding her back out the way they came in. The warmth from the moment before evaporating, Belinda was all too happy to get out of that house.
Chapter 26
“Did you rat us out?” Belinda said to Kyle the next morning as he sorted through boxes, which were still in the living room despite his sworn oaths days ago.
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“Rat you out about what?” Kyle didn’t even look up.
Belinda tapped the side of her coffee mug, standing between the living and dining rooms, wondering how she should phrase it. “You never woke up last night?” Now that she’d come out and asked Kyle if he’d told on them to Jonas, she wished she’d gone about it more carefully.
“No.” Still absorbed in his sorting, he didn’t even ask her why.
When no questions came after that, Belinda slowly backed up to the kitchen, going about her business as if she hadn’t asked him that question. If Kyle didn’t know she’d even gone out, then he didn’t let Jonas know where they went, which made her more curious how Jonas knew.
Maybe it was his Super Detective Sense.
Or he may have put a guard on them. And he wasn’t necessarily going to tell them about it. Especially Bennett, who would balk at the thought of needing a bodyguard, though he’d force one on her no matter what.
And after her driving accident, she couldn’t really complain about having a guard. Though it may or may not have helped at the time.
Regardless, Belinda’s main objective that day was to talk to Alex again. She might be responsible for the thefts or know who was. And that could be the reason for the accidents.
“Where did you hide the cupcakes?”
Belinda jumped, spinning around to find Kyle standing at the edge of the kitchen. She’d been staring out the window, assuming Kyle was immersed in sorting through his swill while she sorted things out in her own mind.
“I didn’t hide them,” she said, setting her coffee down before she spilled it all over the floor. “And I don’t think it’s time for a break yet. You’ve only been in there for like five minutes.”
“Ten. And I think you did hide them because I can’t find them anywhere.”
“You couldn’t find the OJ either and that was right in the front of the fridge.”
Kyle sniffed. “Whatever. Just tell me where they are.”
Belinda shuffled to a corner cabinet, revealing the pastry box. “Ta-da…” She held it aloft as Kyle reached for it.