Cliffhanger (The Belinda & Bennett Mysteries, Book One)

by Amy Saunders

  "You have a whistle signal too?" she said, trying to sit up. Her hands stung from the fall and when she held them up to brush them off, she thought she saw blood. Jonas and his flashlight appeared on the hill, and he crouched over her, worry crinkling the skin around his eyes.

  "I saw something reflect in the light," she said, deciding she needed a moment before standing again.

  Bennett picked Belinda up by her waist and scooted her over a foot so they could look where her palm had hit dirt. Buried in with the gravel was an earring. Jonas whipped out a pair of tweezers and held it up in the light. It was a silver stud.

  "Rather plain." Belinda frowned. "I don't think this came from any woman that Stellan invited."

  "Maybe it doesn't belong to a woman." Bennett met her eyes and lifted his brows in significance while Jonas dropped it in a plastic baggie. Then Bennett held Belinda by the waist and carefully led her back down.

  If she hadn't felt so discombobulated and heavy and just relieved to have him keeping her upright, Belinda would have had chill bumps from his taut arm flexing against her back and the way his finger grazed her skin where her shirt had lifted up. But all she could think about was sitting back down.

  "Battle scars." Jonas winked at Belinda as she swung her legs out of the truck while Bennett pulled items out of his first aid kit. "This is a huge help. It could turn things around."

  "I should have told you earlier."

  Jonas shrugged it off. "Out of sight, out of mind sort of thing. Doesn't matter. We know now."

  Belinda didn't feel quite so nonchalant about it. Something about the whole situation made her wonder if she'd made a mistake telling them.

  Bennett cleaned off her hands, Belinda wincing as he squirted disinfectant onto the cuts. She looked up at the Mayhew property while he added the finishing touches of bandages to her palms.

  Jonas smiled. "It's hard to leave a job unfinished, isn't it?" His face turned darker as he checked a message on his phone. He forced one last grin for Belinda and saluted both of them and drove off, probably headed back to the station for a long night. Belinda realized it was the first time she'd witnessed him drive away instead of peddle.

  Bennett took his time repackaging the first aid kit, so she waited patiently with her hands folded in her lap. He finally snapped the top of it shut and came around to her door, moonlight creating silvery highlights in his dark hair. "Would you like to go get a coffee?"

  Belinda smiled, her cheeks finally flushing pink for the right reasons. "Coffee's always welcome."

  Instead of being holed up in the coffee shop with the three other people hanging out, they got their beverages to go and strolled through downtown, passing dormant shops waiting for summer. Most of the small boutiques hadn't opened for the season yet, but there was the sense of anticipation on the streets in the daytime. Stray tourists had already begun to slip in and Belinda shivered with excitement. It would be her first summer in Portside in two years and she couldn't wait for the beaching, the shopping, and the people swarming the town.

  "All the shops will open soon," she said, watching her step on the cobblestone street, gravitating toward the shop windows. One day in the not-too-distant future, one of those would belong to her.

  "Do you plan to shop 'til you drop?"

  Belinda laughed. The second time in a row. Bennett was on a roll.

  "Not yet, though I do have a wedding shower present to buy." She perused the window display of one of the shops. "I hate all this sort of stuff. They have all kinds of useless or expensive items on their gift registry that I don't want to buy. On the other hand, it will be much easier just to pick one of those than to come up with something original that they may or may not like."

  "You could always go green. Everybody likes that."

  Belinda smirked. "I am not giving those people money. A gift is one thing, but neither of them need the cash, believe me."

  "So we're talking a society wedding?"

  "My aunt and her husband are paying for the wedding, custom-designed dresses and all, and I believe that the groom's parents are giving them a lavish honeymoon as a gift. I'm pretty sure I heard Bali mentioned at one of my fittings."

  "Fittings?"

  "I am one of the privileged seven who gets to walk down the aisle in a custom-designed bridesmaid's gown. It means I have to abstain from food until after their June wedding."

  Bennett lifted his eyebrows.

  "And that brings me back to your original question," Belinda went on. "Instead of shopping, I plan to eat gelato and sugar cookies until I can't stand the sight of them."

  "They don't have gelato or sugar cookies where you've been?"

  "Not like here." She skipped over a dip in the rocks. "I have to admit, it's mostly the warm, fuzzy memories of going there with my family and friends."

  "I wasn't sure if you had any of those from Portside."

  Belinda glanced at him curiously. "I have plenty of good memories. There are dark moments too." Her eyes wandered away. "Really dark moments."

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

  Belinda shook her head. She wasn't letting that shadow settle upon her at that moment. "Don't be. It happened. We all tried to hide from it, but we can't anymore." She sighed heavily. "I've always felt more for Kyle than myself, but..."

  Bennett held his breath.

  "I lost Mark too." She kept her eyes on the cobblestones.

  Bennett waited a minute for her to elucidate, but it seemed that was all she would say on that subject. "Are you sorry you came back now?"

  Belinda smiled. "You don't mess around, do you?"

  Bennett's brow creased. "What do you mean?"

  Belinda laughed again, but this time Bennett had no idea why. "I'm sorry...I don't mean to laugh. It's just...you really don't know?"

  "I know I'm straightforward." His jaw tightened up. "Does that bother you?"

  Belinda left him in suspense, choosing to take a minute to think it over. "Not at all. I rather like it."

  Bennett nodded. "Good."

  "And I'm not sorry I came back to Portside. I'm not sorry at all." Bennett looked pleased with her response. "So now I'm going to turn the tables and be straightforward with you. How long have you and the detective been friends?"

  "Too long." Belinda laughed again and Bennett suppressed a smile. "We met at the Academy and led parallel lives for a while, working in the same station, moving in the same direction. We even did some private investigating work together on the side."

  "Bennett Tate, PI." Belinda's eyes sparkled. "It sounds good together."

  "It's not as thrilling as you'd think."

  "What? No high-speed car chases or dramatic slow-walks away from exploding buildings?" Belinda turned thoughtful. "I bet you were good."

  Bennett hesitated. "I did all right."

  "No, no. I'm confident it suited you."

  "How would you know?" As with everything he asked, he said it with perfect seriousness. He sincerely wanted to know how she came to that conclusion.

  "Easy. You don't miss a thing. In fact, I believe I heard someone call you the gray-eyed eagle."

  Bennett raised his eyebrows, surprised and delighted that she knew his eye color. "May I ask who that someone was?"

  "Me." Belinda grinned mischievously. "Of course, I'm not sure I intended it as a compliment at the time."

  "Was it when you wanted to...hire me...for Victoria's party?"

  "I think so."

  "Then I'm sure it wasn't."

  Belinda giggled. "Well, I've changed my mind. It's now officially a compliment." Belinda now admired, even liked, his keen eyes. And she was glad he'd brushed by her in the hallway at Stellan's and saved her from Jarrett at the market and then again near the cemetery. Someday, she would ask him about all of these coincidental meetings, but for that night, Belinda was just happy they'd met.

  "I'll add it to my business card."

  "It could be your new slogan: 'Stay safe with the gray-eyed eagle.'"


  "New? It would be the first."

  "You don't have one?" Belinda screwed up her nose, trying to remember what was on his website. "No, you don't. That's a shame."

  "Well, I promise to get your input if I decide to change that."

  "Please do. I'd love to help." Their eyes met, Belinda's sparkly and Bennett's warm like the fur of those funny dogs she still couldn't remember the name of. And there was nothing in the past or present that could dampen the anticipation burning in her chest.

  Chapter 10

  Bennett returned her back to her house reluctantly, and Belinda floated back to the kitchen, mulling over possible slogans for Bennett's business and dreaming about pumpkin pie for some reason, deciding that she'd have to add a pumpkin pie cupcake to her menu.

  "Hey, Bels," Kyle said, sitting on the couch in the living room in the dark. Belinda walked toward him, all the shimmer in her diminishing as he glanced at her sideways. "Have fun with your new friend?"

  Belinda assessed the situation. She nodded, deciding less was more at that moment.

  "You showed them the path, huh? The path that takes you onto the Mayhew property, bypassing the gate?"

  "It could be important."

  Kyle stared straight ahead. "Then there's something I should tell you now because it may come out anyway."

  Belinda straightened up, her heart flip-flopping.

  "I was there the night of the party," he said, avoiding her eyes. "To talk to Jeff."

  Belinda stared at him in disbelief. "But...but you haven't spoken to him in years!"

  "I wanted to make things right between us. It was time."

  "Time?" It crossed her mind that under other circumstances this would have come as great news. Right now, it was just a huge mess. "You were mad at me for going to the party in the first place. For risking seeing Jeff. Now you're telling me you wanted to make things right between the two of you?"

  "That was you, this is me. I would never trust him with you, but I needed to say a few things to him."

  "Like what?"

  "That's not really any of your business."

  Belinda crossed her arms over her chest. Kyle brought this up, volunteered actually, and now it was none of her business. "Uh...okay. So did you talk to Jeff?"

  "Yeah, I did." Kyle's eyes were distant. "I snuck up that path and found him alone in the yard. We talked and I left the way I came."

  "And that was it? You just had a casual chat with a person you wouldn't deal with for the past ten years and went home to watch TV?"

  Kyle's eyes flashed. "What do you think I did? Push him over the cliff?"

  "No! But I can't believe it was that normal either." Why did he opt to tell her this at all if he was going to tell half-truths?

  Kyle sighed. "He was shocked to see me, but glad I think. We both avoided mentioning you and we made our peace and I went home, leaving him alone—and alive—in the backyard."

  "Are you sure you were alone?"

  "Yes. I wouldn't have talked to him otherwise."

  "And all you did was...make peace? You didn't talk about anything else?" Belinda could feel the irritation emanating off of Kyle, but again, he brought it up. If he didn't want to divulge anything, he should have kept it to himself.

  "It was a brief conversation."

  "And you are absolutely positive no one saw you?"

  Kyle glanced at her curiously. "Why are you so adamant about that?"

  Belinda dropped her hands to her sides. "The killer could have used that path. I was just thinking that someone might have noticed you coming or going that way and gotten an idea of how to avoid being seen. They could have officially left the party and then returned that way to kill Jeff. And that would have been good timing if he was alone when you left."

  "Will you tell your friend about this?"

  Belinda examined his profile. She didn't want to have to do anything, but he didn't seem to be leaving her with much choice. "I really think you should just go tell the police yourself. It could save you a lot of trouble later. If you don't, it just looks like you're hiding something." As she said it, Belinda bit her lip. It didn't look like he was hiding something, he was hiding something.

  Kyle swallowed. "I'm sorry, Bels. I'm really sorry." He kissed her forehead and headed to his room.

  "Does that mean you won't?" Belinda's voice echoed along with her frustration.

  He didn't answer, leaving her alone in what now felt like a big, empty box. Belinda took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. Why was every pleasant moment in her life scarred like this? She would wait and try and talk some sense into him in the morning. If he still refused...well, she would try not to think about that.

  Kyle avoided her in the morning, barricading himself in his bedroom. Belinda sat at the kitchen island trying to work on her to-do list for her cupcake boutique, thoughts of Kyle "making peace'" with Jeff and Bennett's gray eyes absorbing her concentration. So when the doorbell rang, Belinda wasn't at all prepared to deal with anyone.

  Bennett's detective friend was outside her door with a uniformed officer behind him. Belinda's eyes shot open and all other thoughts evaporated.

  "Is your brother around this morning, Ms. Kittridge?" he said.

  So they were back to that. Last night, he'd called her honey, which Belinda could only guess meant something incredibly awful was about to happen. Belinda nodded and stepped aside for them to enter and then flew up the stairs to Kyle's room, banging on his door. He opened, glowering, until he saw the detective.

  "Mr. Kittridge," Jonas said in his official voice, "you're under arrest for the murder of Jeff Clark."

  Kyle ignored the involuntary squeak that shot out of Belinda's mouth and let them handcuff him and lead him outside without a word, refusing to even glance in Belinda's direction. She followed them out, staring blankly as the officer helped him into the back of the police car.

  Belinda could only watch from a distance, feeling more helpless than she ever had, and she'd felt pretty helpless in the past.

  "Do you have anyone you can call?" Jonas said with a less official tone.

  "Our parents are on a cruise."

  He nodded in understanding. "Will you be okay?"

  "I...I think. I'm not the type to go into hysterics if that's what you mean."

  Jonas smiled. "I didn't believe so." He dug his hands in his pockets, staring at the grass. "This is entirely off record of course, but I would call Bennett if I were you." Jonas nodded to her, slipped into the passenger's side of one of the patrol cars, and ambled away. Once they were out of earshot, she could only hear the distant whining of a landscaping tool and her own heartbeat.

  Before she'd opened the door to the police, Belinda had felt hurt, but now she was on the verge of a complete meltdown. Kyle had shut the door in her face, refusing to open up and tell her exactly what happened. And now this. And their parents were out of the country. Belinda had just told the detective she wouldn't go into hysterics. Well, maybe she'd lied.

  Belinda stood there in a daze for a few minutes, thinking numbly whether she was actually in a dream. Deciding that was a lost cause, she plodded back into the house and up the stairs, her steps seeming to echo louder than before, and flipped open her computer. She typed in Tate Security and called Bennett.

  He made it to her house in insanely good time, less put together than she was used to. His short hair spiked out in all directions, and he'd buttoned his shirt wrong. Still in a daze, Belinda automatically started to fix it for him.

  "Jonas suggested I call you," she said, struggling with the last button. Bennett waited patiently as she forced it through the slot, maybe too surprised to offer to help.

  She flattened out his shirt panel so the buttons aligned properly, his skin peeking out through the gap, and patted down the material gently. As she started buttoning it back, Belinda realized what on earth she was doing and got nervous, fumbling with her task. Bennett took her hands, now shaking, and walked her over to the kitchen island, helping he
r onto a stool.

  "It's harder from the outside," she mumbled, trying to relax.

  Bennett finished buttoning his shirt. "Do you have a lawyer you can call?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, you should." Bennett frowned. "I know some of what's going on here and it's not in your brother's favor. They found evidence that he'd been on the cliff. Paint particles I think. And they believe Kyle and Jeff got into a fight."

  Belinda wrung her hands. "The scratch on his arm..."

  "Yeah." Bennett's mouth gaped like he was about to say something else but changed his mind.

  "What?"

  "The car that rammed you was a rental."

  "So, in other words, it doesn't help?"

  "No, they found out who it was rented to." Bennett averted his eyes.

  "Who?" Belinda said suspiciously. She had a feeling she wasn't going to like his answer.

  "Your brother."

  Belinda shook trying to squash down the rage in her chest. "No."

  She was barely audible, but from the redness in her face to her stiff upper body, Bennett had gotten the response he anticipated.

  Belinda walked around the kitchen island, randomly opening up kitchen cabinets, which were all empty. Her hands shook while she poured water into a glass and her cheeks tightened. She was about to cry, wasn't she?

  After barely managing to gulp down one drink of water, it started. Belinda was obviously trying hard not to lose it, but she was also obviously losing the battle. Before he could think of what to do, she ran from the room and up the nearby staircase. He heard a door slam and then...nothing. Bennett stood in the kitchen, torn on what to do.

  After going back and forth, he decided to wait downstairs. He didn't want to leave her like that, not with her brother under arrest. So he sat down at their kitchen island and opened the notebook sitting there, figuring he could make a list of things he needed from the hardware store while he waited. He flipped for a blank page, passing a random scribble dead in the center of the notebook. Out of curiosity, he flipped back to see what it said. Someone had slashed an address diagonally across the page. Bennett flipped back to the beginning. Random lists and notes covered the pages. The handwriting did not match that of the address.