Cliffhanger (The Belinda & Bennett Mysteries, Book One)

by Amy Saunders

  Cliffhanger

  (The Belinda & Bennett Mysteries, Book One)

  Amy Saunders

  Copyright 2012 Amy Saunders

  Other Titles by Amy Saunders

  Auf'd (The Belinda & Bennett Mysteries, Book Two)

  Biohazard

  The Jester's Apprentice

  Dead Locked

  Chapter 1

  Belinda could have turned left to go directly to the house, but she charged straight through the four-way stop. At the top of the road, before it dipped down and curved inland again, she could just make out the ocean between the blades of wheat-like sea grasses bowing toward her. Pure joy swelled in her chest and she pressed down on the accelerator.

  Belinda skidded into the beach parking lot and flung open the door, her face hit by the sea breeze still clinging to winter. She jogged toward the water's edge, jumping around on one bare foot, giggling as she nearly collapsed onto the sand wrenching her other shoe off. My, how that white, gravelly stuff was tougher to walk through than she remembered!

  Belinda stopped at the water's edge, the sand itself sending chills up her legs. But she had to do it. She had to dip her feet in the water just once. She secured her blonde hair in an elastic, taking a deep breath of salt air—and, ooh yeah, seaweed. Yuck. Belinda stood on the water mark and waited for the next surge. She closed her eyes as it rushed toward her, bunching up and suppressing a squeal as the Atlantic said hello.

  "Hello!" she said back with her arms opened wide, but she dashed back to the safe zone before it could reply.

  Shivering and wet and sand covered, Belinda leaned against the craggy rocks creating a natural barrier between the town beach and the rest of it. Belinda gazed out at the horizon, the silhouette of a sailboat moving along it. It had been too long since Kyle sailed. He always shot her down when she suggested it, but she would do her yearly thing and say something anyway. Her feet dried and Belinda finally trudged back to her car, brushing sand off of her feet in the parking lot. Kyle was supposed to leave work early to meet her, so it was time to go home.

  She backtracked, cruising along until a familiar house peeked out from a gap in the conical topiary fence. Belinda slowed down, rounding the corner of the driveway, and passed through the open gate and down the brick drive. She parked next to her brother's Jeep and dashed into the house.

  "Kyle!" Belinda's voice echoed in the foyer and she headed straight for the open glass door across the hall. She found him lazing in a wood lounger on the back deck with a beer, alt rock blaring out of his earbuds. "Kyle!" Belinda stepped around his legs, arching her eyebrows and waving.

  Kyle jumped, ripping the buds out. "Hey, you're early." When his brown eyes lit up, she was practically looking into her own. The one clear sign of their twin-ness from her perspective.

  "Actually, I'm late. I detoured to the beach for a minute." Belinda grinned and they bear hugged after he stood up. "Is there anything to eat?" Kyle just offered a lopsided grin. "I'll take that as a no."

  "I would have stocked up, but I figured—"

  "You figured you would just wait and let me do it."

  "No, I was going to say I figured you'd want to get your own stuff."

  "And?"

  "And that you would get some other things while you were there."

  Belinda put her hands on her hips. "Am I going to regret living with you?"

  "Probably." Kyle grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. "But look at that view, eh?"

  Belinda meandered off the low-lying porch and toward the edge of the property where it dropped off into the sea. It was more protected than other parts of Portside where the houses were right on the open ocean. But the wind and the currents below still tasted wild. Kyle was right. Putting up with him again was worth that view everyday.

  "All right," she said, turning around, "I can do this. But you will help me with the housework, or I'm going to tell Mom that you killed her tomatoes and we'll see just how fast they get back from Europe."

  "Total accident."

  "You ran over them with your dirt bike."

  "Accident."

  "Dirt bike. In the yard, destroying their finely tuned grass and tomato plants."

  Kyle hugged his chest. "They are not going to come back from Europe early for that."

  "No, but they might do something drastic like kick you out."

  "Hey, if I go, so do you." He pointed at her nose. "I have some pretty sick stories I could tell them about you too."

  "From when? High school? Ancient history."

  "New York. Art gallery. Not so ancient."

  Belinda rolled her eyes to the blue sky, squinting in the light. "Fine. I will forget about the tomato 'accident.' For now." Kyle grinned. "But don't get comfortable. I was an adult for the whole New York thing."

  "And I was an adult for the whole running over the tomato plants thing."

  Belinda looked back out at the water. Kyle picked up on what was coming next and rolled his eyes. "Bels, don't—"

  "It's great weather for sailing today. In fact, I saw someone out on their boat at the beach."

  Kyle sighed.

  "What?"

  "You know what. I don't want to. Not anymore."

  Belinda's eyes grew sad. "Mark would hate that you've given it up. He would absolutely hate it."

  "Well, he's not here to care, is he?"

  Belinda pursed her lips. From the flare of gold in his eyes, that was all she should say on that subject right then. "So what do we do for dinner then?"

  Kyle loosened up. "We could crash Victoria's."

  "We are not crashing Victoria's." Belinda thought about the other options and scrunched her nose. "Well, maybe this once. I'll call and see if she minds a couple of extra diners."

  "I'm used to you being home already."

  Belinda wrinkled her nose, working up a retort, when someone called her from the front of the house. She turned to see a young man waving from the entrance. "Oh, no," she mumbled.

  Kyle grinned as a tall kid with bright blue eyes smiled broadly and came out to the backyard. "Belinda," he said cheerfully, "you're home! I'd heard talk but...you're actually here." His face beamed.

  "Hi, Jarrett." Belinda shifted awkwardly. She gripped Kyle's shirt as he started to walk away, but he pulled free, making smoochy faces at her behind Jarrett's back. Once Kyle was out of earshot, Jarrett stuffed his hands into his pockets and moved in closer. Belinda took a step back, glancing behind her to be sure of the cliff.

  "I'm eighteen now," he said.

  Belinda blinked. "Oh, well, congratulations. Eighteen...it's a good year." For some people, she imagined.

  Jarrett laughed nervously, pulling on his earlobe. "You said to, you know, try again when I was eighteen. So here I am."

  Belinda's mouth fell open, but no sound came out.

  "You wanna go get a coffee or something?"

  Oh, dear, Belinda thought. Really? She just got into Portside and it was already looking like time to leave. "I just got—"

  "It doesn't have to be right now. Tomorrow, when you're settled in and all."

  "It's not that. I...I'm here to work. I'm overseeing our house renovation and I've got other plans—"

  "You're busy; I get it. But coffee, Belinda? I know you like coffee." He flashed a smile, his blue eyes sparkling. She had to admit he was cute, and if she were his age or vice versa, well, maybe.

  Belinda shook her head. "Of course I do, but Jarrett—"

  "What?" His eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

  Belinda wanted to just run into the house and lock the doors. Why wouldn't he just move on already? "Maybe wh
en you're twenty-one."

  "Last time you said when I was eighteen."

  "Well, twenty-one is the new eighteen."

  "Belinda—"

  "Jarrett, we've been over this. Several times. And my opinion that you are too young for me has not changed." Belinda hooked her thumbs in her back pockets, trying to figure out how to end the conversation. "There are lots of girls your age." There. That should pacify him.

  "They're all silly."

  Or not. And he was starting to whine.

  "They're not all silly. You just need to keep a wary eye open. Besides, you're headed off to college. You'll meet more girls there."

  "I wouldn't have to if you would just go out with me."

  Belinda sighed, not mentally prepared for a debate.

  "We get along." Jarrett put his hands out toward her pleadingly. "We have great conversations. I don't see what the problem is."

  "I know you don't, but please try and see this from my perspective. You're a smart guy, you can surely imagine."

  Jarrett didn't look to Belinda like he was trying that hard, but his sour face slowly reverted back to a smile. "I don't have that great of an imagination."

  Belinda crossed her arms. "I beg to differ."

  "Anyway," Jarrett inched closer, "my band is practicing this Saturday afternoon. You should come. You like alt rock, right?"

  How did he do that? After that whole conversation, he just glossed over it like nothing happened. No matter how mean she acted, he kept coming back for more.

  "We're not that bad either. We've been practicing really hard. Even played at a few parties." Jarrett rocked on his heels.

  "That's terrific, Jarrett. But I..." Why did he refuse to be reasonable? And why did she have such a hard time telling him to get lost? "I'll see." Belinda slumped over.

  Jarrett grinned. "You won't be sorry."

  Oh, yes, I will, Belinda thought.

  Just a few streets away stood Victoria's and Dan's pomegranate-color house or the Pom-Pom house as they'd nicknamed it when they moved in a few years ago. Belinda was always surprised by how shady it was there, but they actually had trees in their yard. Waiting with the door open was a five-foot-three, copper-haired woman in a floral skirt. She and Belinda bounced up and down at the sight of each other. When the complimenting and talking all at once finished, they took to the bench off of the kitchen.

  "We're so glad you're back!" Victoria said, squeezing Belinda's hands from across the table.

  "Well, who else is going to see that the house renovation goes smoothly while my parents are gone?"

  "Kyle?"

  Belinda laughed, poking Kyle as he snarled. "I could handle this...if I wanted to."

  Belinda rolled her eyes. "Well, Mom and Dad asking me to come back to do this works out anyway." Her whole countenance brightened. "I have a cupcake boutique to get off the ground, and you and I have scouting to do."

  Victoria grinned. "Are we about to repeat the great beach cookout catastrophe?"

  "Ugh." Belinda ran her tongue across her teeth. "I still have sand in my mouth from that."

  "My mom had to throw out some of her cookware, you know. My dad insisted he had grit in his food whenever she'd use them."

  "Those were the days. When we made off with your mom's world-class cookware to use on the beach of all places." They both laughed. "Neither of us knew much back then."

  "Now I think we know too much." Victoria frowned. "Dan sends his love, but he had to eat already and get back to work. He's at the end of a big job right now." She rested her chin on the heel of her palm. "I can't wait until it's finished."

  "Will he be joining you for the reunion?" Belinda said, dishing out some of Victoria's homemade mac-n-cheese.

  "Thankfully, yes. Since neither of you is going, I'm going to need him for moral support."

  "You could hardly count Kyle as moral support anyway," Belinda said.

  "Hey! I resent that."

  "Well, it's true. I love you and all that, but most of the time you were off flirting in high school and I can't imagine our tenth reunion would be much different."

  Victoria glanced between them. "Do I have any takers for the after-reunion party at the Mayhew house?"

  Kyle snorted.

  Belinda twirled her fork.

  "You're not even considering it, right?" Kyle said.

  Belinda smiled sheepishly. "If he's not in town..."

  Kyle arched his eyebrows, rubbing the bone right above one of them. "You'll regret it. Even if he isn't here, you'll regret going." Kyle popped a piece of roll into his mouth as he spoke. "You've already been accosted by one jilted lover. Do you really want to try for two?"

  Victoria glanced between the two of them. "What other jilted lover are we discussing?"

  "Jarrett paid her a visit," Kyle said gleefully.

  "Already?" Victoria arched her eyebrows.

  "He only lives next door," Belinda said nonchalantly. "He saw me drive in."

  "Wow." Victoria sat back. "You make one whale of an impression at pool parties."

  "I had no idea that innocently popping into something I was invited to would get this intense."

  "The kid has guts."

  "Yep. A sixteen-year-old walks right up to me at his pool party and asks me out without the slightest concern that I might say no, but I can't find someone of legal age with the same tenacity."

  Kyle cleared his throat. "Um, excuse me, but Jarrett is eighteen now."

  Belinda's head whipped around. "I thought you left before he said that."

  "I kept in hearing distance."

  Belinda sighed. "Is Jeff in town for the reunion?"

  "To my knowledge, no," Victoria said.

  "But none of us are besties with these people anymore," Kyle said. "He could be here and none of us know about it. It's not a stretch."

  Belinda nodded. She knew that. She did. But the thought that Jeff wouldn't be around and it might be safe to go tempted her.

  Kyle sighed, digging his fingers into his short-cropped brown hair. "Do I have to forbid you to go? Because I will."

  Belinda narrowed her eyes, daring him to say it.

  After a ten-second stare down he crumpled. "You get on me for things constantly," he mumbled.

  "Don't worry," Victoria said. "I'll look after her."

  That conversation knotted up Kyle's good mood and he turned all frowny faced for the rest of the night. Belinda knew how sensitive he was to that topic, and she hated trying to bring it up around him. But she felt confident that the reunion after-party, as Victoria had called it, would be fine. And if it wasn't, she wasn't obligated to stay. Belinda would just turn around and zip back home. Done and done. She left Kyle to his video games and went to unpack and find an appropriate outfit for the party.

  Chapter 2

  Bennett Tate adjusted the final camera in the Mayhew house hallway and climbed down the stepladder. Private party jobs were both simple and tricky. Simple because there usually wasn't as much space to cover and his clients generally asked for basic security. Tricky because they also wanted everything incredibly low-profile, which was easier said than done. But Bennett had managed to develop an event security firm known for its transparency and discretion at these sorts of events. He'd done it before, he could do it again.

  He jogged to the room down the hallway that served as his headquarters, his anticipation building as it got closer to party time. His associate, Finnegan, manned the desk at that moment, checking all the cameras to make sure everything worked. They still had plenty of time before guests were set to arrive, but Bennett liked to be ahead of the game. He crossed behind Finnegan's seat, leaning over to see that they had visuals on all sides.

  "Everything's ready," Finnegan said, chomping on a piece of gum.

  "Is that what you're wearing?"

  Finnegan checked out his black windbreaker. "What's wrong with it?"

  "Nothing. I just want you to blend in. As far as the guests are concerned, we're not supposed to exis
t."

  Finnegan frowned. "What about Rachel?"

  "She's blending in too. This is a quick job. Shouldn't be much trouble with this crowd."

  "Except that the client's paranoid someone will steal from him."

  "Look at this place." Bennett demonstrated by glancing around the room. "Do you blame him?"

  "No. But it's an odd setup to have your friends over."

  From the size of the guest list, Bennett doubted his client knew any of them that well. It looked like more of an opportunity to show off. "We're just here to do a job, so quit worrying about it."

  Finnegan flicked the top of his ear. "Am I on the outside again?"

  "Just like we talked about. You can casually walk around once or twice if you want to, but be cool about it. We don't want to arouse suspicion."

  "Wouldn't dream of it." Finnegan twirled his thumbs. "Maybe I'll nab a hot date from this."

  Bennett set a firm hand on Finnegan's shoulder. "No harassing the guests. You've already annoyed one client in that department."

  "I wasn't harassing her guests."

  "No, you were harassing her."

  Finnegan smirked. "She would've been worth it."

  "Yeah, except she already had a boyfriend with more money and muscles than you." He liked Finnegan. Most of the time. But he could be incredibly ridiculous. "You're fortunate she found it amusing and kept it to herself." And they were fortunate that she wasn't that influential in the community.

  Finnegan swiveled around in his chair. "At least I try. You bring in someone hot like Rachel for a job and you just completely ignore her." He leaned forward. "She's totally been flirting with you, man. If she flirted with me..."

  Bennett's gray eyes tightened. "You know what, go home and change. You're not dressed appropriately."

  "Change into what?"

  "Something less casual. Hurry up. Guests should be arriving in less than an hour." Finnegan slumped out the door, his thin shoulders drooping. "Put on a blazer!"

  Bennett picked at the tip of his chin, staring blankly at the laptop computer screens displaying empty hallways, except for the occasional caterer. By the time Finnegan returned in slightly better apparel, guests had trickled into the living room, cleared of furniture to serve as a dance floor. That should be interesting, Bennett thought, examining the few people who had showed up so far. If nothing else, maybe the job would be entertaining.