Cliffhanger (The Belinda & Bennett Mysteries, Book One)

by Amy Saunders

  A door creaked and then Bennett heard soft padding on the wood floor upstairs. He closed the notebook and pushed it back into place where he'd found it, repeating the address to himself. Belinda appeared at the bottom of the stairs, disappeared as she hit the landing, and reappeared a second later at the edge of the kitchen. She looked paler than when he arrived and now her brown eyes were bloodshot. They also looked surprised to see him.

  Belinda tugged on the ends of her sleeves and hugged her body, avoiding his eyes. "I figured you'd left," she said quietly, but not with the ferocity of her earlier statement. She cleared her throat and poured more water, gulping without a problem this time.

  Bennett hoped he hadn't messed up by not leaving, but it was too late. He couldn't think of a question that didn't sound lame, so he stayed quiet, letting her pad around and drink more water and search through the cabinets. She found cookies and nestled into a seat next to him, setting the package between the two of them and offering him one.

  "You first," he said, his voice echoing in the house like it was built of marble.

  She nibbled on the edge of the cookie. "I'm sorry. I'm not good at public hysterics."

  "Neither am I."

  Belinda's face started to come back to life. "You can ask me now," she said.

  "Ask you what?"

  "Whatever you wanted to before I went nutty."

  Bennett raised his eyebrows, taking a minute to remember. "Why did your brother want to talk to Clark?"

  "To make peace." She exaggerated her words.

  "You don't believe him?"

  Belinda scrunched her nose. "Not really...but I don't think he killed Jeff either. Or rammed into me."

  Bennett nodded. "Someone saw your brother exchange heated words with Jeff the other day outside of one of the cemeteries. And apparently that wasn't the first time that had happened."

  "It was probably where Mark is buried. Do you know what they were arguing about?"

  Bennett shrugged. "Maybe Kyle was concerned that Jeff would pick up where he left off obsessing over you."

  "As flattering as that is I don't think it was Kyle's top priority."

  Bennett leaned closer to her. "Did you know Mark well?"

  Belinda felt her body tense and her mind drifted off to that final summer when Mark died.... "Oh...um, well enough, but he was primarily Kyle's friend." She avoided his eyes and focused on her cookie.

  "Was he a good sailor?"

  "Oh, yeah." Belinda waved her hand like everyone should know that. "He rivaled Kyle, and that's saying something."

  "So he should have known what he was doing."

  Belinda didn't know where this random line of thinking was heading, but she shrugged and answered anyway. "Beyond. He actually taught lessons at the yacht club in the summer." Belinda watched Bennett's eyes, deep in puzzle solving. "Are you thinking...are you thinking Mark's accident wasn't an accident?" Her throat constricted saying the words.

  Bennett looked at her questioningly. "Is that what you're thinking right now?"

  "I don't know, but I'm thinking about how good a sailor Mark was and that conversation between Jeff and Stellan at the party..." She pursed her lips. "It could explain some things."

  "Such as?"

  "Their behavior afterward. Jeff was a train wreck right from the beginning, but Stellan was totally reserved about the whole thing. I just wanted to know what happened, but he was very vague on some points and always got defensive. Maybe...maybe that's because they weren't telling the whole truth." She'd always had that feeling whenever she talked to Stellan.

  "I think it's worth considering with everything that's happened. It could be you've accidentally started to unearth something you shouldn't know."

  Belinda yawned and Bennett took that as his cue to let her rest for a while. She'd had a lot going on. Belinda snatched the edge of his sleeve as he stepped out onto the stoop. Belinda's eyes were still dim, but her face looked a little less pale than it had when he got there.

  "Are we okay?" Belinda said timidly. She was scared. More scared than she wanted to admit, and the house started to collapse in on her as Bennett walked out the door. Without Kyle around, she was completely alone.

  Bennett held her arms, stepping close so she inhaled that spicy scent always lingering on his skin like he'd walked through a bazaar in some exotic location. "I can't make promises, Belinda. But I will do everything in my power to help you and keep you safe."

  His eyes had tightened and grown that darker shade of gray they did when Bennett flipped into serious mode. Just knowing that he was so serious about what was going on made Belinda feel calmer as she strolled back into the kitchen after he left, not in a huge hurry to do anything. Great, she thought, staring at the kitchen floor. Right by the side door was a mud smear that Kyle had conveniently ignored. Belinda sighed and bent down to wipe it up with a wet paper towel when it hit her that the smudge was not there that morning. And Kyle wasn't home yet, and Bennett came through the front.

  Belinda sucked in a shallow breath. While she had been languishing upstairs, thinking she was all alone, someone else had been right there with her.

  Chapter 11

  Maybe the mud smear was nothing. Maybe she was just paranoid now, Belinda thought as she opened her eyes. The next day brought rain showers, the first unpleasant weather in weeks to Belinda's recollection. She felt relieved looking out the window that morning though and seeing something drearier than perfect sun. It was more fitted to the actual circumstances.

  Before the revelation that Mark's death might have been more than an accident, Belinda was just confused. Confused by Kyle's behavior and actions and the evidence surrounding Jeff's murder. Now the pieces were coming together like bits of glass in a mosaic. It wasn't rounded off at the edges. No, it was sharp and jagged. But it was getting clearer.

  Victoria had insisted she stay over the night before and as she followed the smell of something delicious to the kitchen, Belinda was glad she'd taken her up on it, even if it was a pain to pack up all of her stuff. Why did you need so much for only one night anyway? But it beat being alone in that big house.

  Egg batter splashed out as Victoria threw pieces of bread slathered in it on the griddle. Belinda poured some coffee, yawning as she dumped spoonfuls of sugar into the cup. Victoria grinned. "It looks like you need that."

  "I may drink the whole pot, just to warn you." Belinda watched her flip the egg-enveloped pieces of bread with longing. "I heart French toast."

  "That's why I made it." Victoria set the spatula down on the granite countertop. "Do you think Bennett fancies French toast? Maybe I should call him and invite him over for breakfast."

  Belinda narrowed her eyes. "Do you see what I look like right now? Don't even tease me about it."

  "Something tells me he'd be just as happy to see you."

  Belinda self-consciously stuffed a stray lock behind her ear as if Bennett would magically appear in the room.

  They each filled a plate and sat down at the pedestal table. "So you still haven't filled me in about your recent escapades," Victoria said, shimmying in her seat to get comfortable.

  "I think 'escapades' is blowing things out of proportion."

  "I don't know. You're running up and down the coast with a pretty hot guy. I'd call that an escapade personally."

  Belinda took her time chewing the first bite. "Let's see. We met his detective friend at the base of that hill you can climb up to reach the Mayhew house."

  "Ah, yes. The backdoors to everyone's property that we all used to be so familiar with."

  "So I led them up and had a complete panic attack imagining Bennett staring at my derriere."

  Victoria raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow. Belinda seriously needed to find out what salon she went to. "I'm sure he was but you have nothing to worry about. Trust me. I'm sure he enjoyed the view." Victoria winked.

  "Then I made a complete fool of myself and crashed on the way down, but we found an earring stud on the path, wh
ich could be useful. At least, I'm positive that piece of evidence won't point at Kyle." Belinda wiped syrup from her lips. "Once Bennett took care of my newly acquired cuts, he asked if I wanted to go get a coffee, so we did and then we spent a while walking through downtown."

  Victoria's eyes sparkled. "You didn't tell me that!"

  "I was saving it." Belinda grinned.

  "You minx. What did you talk about?" Victoria pulled her chair in closer, practically leaning her entire body across the table.

  "Oh, this and that. He doesn't have a slogan for his business so I teased him that it should be 'stay safe with the gray-eyed eagle' or something like that."

  "Watch. It'll be on his website soon."

  Belinda laughed. "I doubt it, but I have been trying to think of a suitable catchphrase for him."

  "So this talking with each other stuff will keep happening I take it."

  Belinda glanced heavenward. "At least right now. He seems to want to help, especially with Kyle and all."

  "Hmm...I wonder why? Oh, that's right. It's because of you."

  "He told me he likes the puzzle."

  "And you."

  "He likes putting it all together."

  "And you."

  "Then there's no doubt the satisfaction of seeing justice meted out."

  "And you."

  Belinda aimed her fork at Victoria's head then stabbed another piece of sausage. "And me, naturally. I am his French toast."

  "Now that should be on his website."

  "Along with a photo of what he looked like yesterday morning." A smile crept onto Belinda's face just remembering it. Every time she saw him, Bennett looked more handsome to her.

  "Ooh...was he all morning sexy?"

  "He was more like just got out of bed sexy." She tried to demonstrate what his hair looked like with her hands.

  "But he was sexy."

  "Yeah." Belinda sighed and bit into another piece. "That seems to be one of his bad habits. That and getting way to close to me for the good of either of us."

  "Indeed. You sound incredibly disturbed. Maybe you should tell him to just back off already." Victoria waved her coffee cup around, almost spilling it all over her floor.

  "I would except I like it too much. And it's hard not to like a guy who doesn't run away from you when you're having a complete meltdown." Belinda drew an invisible swirl on the tabletop. She felt guilty for being anywhere near happy with everything going on though. And for being relieved that she didn't have to worry about bumping into Jeff again. And scared for Kyle...and herself.

  "I hate to abandon you like this." Victoria dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a napkin. "Especially when our conversation revolves around a sexy man, but I have the future of piano concerts sitting on my shoulders."

  "I forgot you have the spring recital coming up soon."

  "Yes, and one of my students has some family stuff going on right now and is behind, so we have an extra long session scheduled today so I can help her catch up. Frankly, I need to practice myself." Victoria stood, smiling. "But you just sit tight and drink all the coffee you want. I will be stranded over at that black monstrosity in the corner for the better part of the morning." Victoria pointed at the upright piano in the living room.

  Belinda sipped her coffee, listening to Victoria drill out snippets of what she thought could be Mozart. Then Victoria packed up her gear and Dan picked her up and hauled her off to the music school where she now taught advanced students—and had learned once herself.

  Without the music and the distraction of another person in the house, Belinda's mind wandered to Kyle's predicament and the dark cloud that his name was on the rental that hit her and Victoria. But she didn't have long to wallow as Jarrett had managed to find out where Belinda had gone.

  He brought another balloon and fresh flowers and was delighted to see no one else was there. He dumped his backpack beside the couch and after asking her several times how she was feeling, leaned forward on his knees with his hands clasped like he was about to say something important. Belinda wanted to sigh. Not now, Jarrett. Please.

  "Is that guy your boyfriend?" Jarrett said.

  Belinda had tried to sit up nice and proper, but couldn't stand it for long, so just sunk into the cushions. Jarrett's feelings about Bennett were not high on her priority list right then. "He's a friend, Jarrett."

  "You were holding hands at the store."

  "Friends hold hands sometimes." This was all getting way too complicated for her.

  "We've never held hands," he said quietly, focused on his own, spindly and tan.

  Maybe she should explain. Maybe. But Jarrett's back and forth niceness didn't encourage her to come out with the truth. He needed to let this whole idea go. The sooner, the better.

  She didn't answer and after a minute, he sat up straighter and asked to use the bathroom. Jarrett's backpack tipped over after he left and Belinda bent to put it back in place when she saw something peeking out. She unzipped the front pocket and pulled out a huge wad of cold, hard cash.

  The upstairs door shut and Belinda dropped the cash back in the pocket and zipped it up just in time for Jarrett to tromp down the stairs. She smiled as he came over and lifted up his pack.

  "Guess I should get going," he said curtly. Belinda started to get up, but he held out his hand. "Don't bother." Without a good-bye, Jarrett threw open the front door and left, but not before Belinda took note of the mud and grass caked onto the side of his sneakers.

  She chewed on her bottom lip, originally planning to stay home all day. But now Belinda doubted she could stand it. There was too much to think about, and now the house seemed to compress her thoughts even more. It was time to get some fresh air.

  ~ * ~

  Bennett picked up a whole quahog shell at the edge of the tide, tipping out the water that had collected inside. At some point, this had been home to a strange, alien-like creature. Now, it was probably in the stomach of one of the seagulls squatting on the beach.

  He flipped the shell over, running his thumb along the ridges. He wasn't one for collections, though he did have a few shells he'd picked up over the years sitting around the house. But he didn't know how to display them, at least well. Belinda might know more about that, if their house was any indication.

  Not that he should be feeding into his growing attraction to her. It wasn't the same situation; it wasn't. But it was close. A girl from a wealthy Portside family wrapped up in a scandal. And the previous one had worn all the same signs of interest. Bennett smirked. Jonas would shoot that remark down without blinking. In fact, he might bring it up next time just to see what he said. But, objectively, Bennett had to counter that thought too. In hindsight, there had been red alerts before from the beginning, but he didn't know enough to recognize them. Maybe he didn't know enough to recognize them now either, but he would try.

  "Bennett!"

  Bennett's head shot up in the direction of the strained feminine voice. Belinda waved, jogging in his direction. He practically dropped the quahog on his foot. Had he wished her there somehow? She smiled and he could picture her eyes sparkling underneath the sunglasses. She had her jeans rolled up and looked like she'd come there on her way from somewhere else while Bennett had his running gear on. Now that he'd stopped for a few minutes, he could feel the sweat coagulating on his back. Great.

  "Are you shell gathering?" she said, kicking up damp sand as she walked.

  Bennett looked at her quizzically until she pointed at the shell now hanging limply in his hand. "I like shells." Oh, boy, he thought. Here we go again, sounding like an idiot. Not being prepared for conversation never worked in his favor and he could feel color rising in his neck. "I mean, photographing them. Because of the detail. Though I collect them too."

  Now she looked at him quizzically. Or that's what he interpreted from her mouth. "You photograph too?" She took a step closer, reaching her hand out for the shell.

  Of all the thousands of things shooting like stars through
his mind at that moment, the joy that she stepped closer to him and how near her hand was to his was instantly replaced with horror that he must smell awful. If she noticed, it didn't register on her face.

  "So, you mean, you do more than just snap off-center photos with your phone like me?" Belinda grinned, pleased with her self-deprecating humor.

  Bennett temporarily forgot that he smelled and with absolutely no red alerts blaring, he flipped the shell over and showed her the ridges. "I was thinking of trying out some close-ups of the ridges. I've been doing other things lately, but it would be a good texture to work with and would give me a new project."

  "What other things?" Belinda lit up.

  "Water, actually. I have more shots than I can count of spray on the Ocean Walk."

  "So you do frequent the Walk. I thought as much."

  Bennett's heart raced a little faster. Did that mean she thought about him when they weren't together too?

  She sounded much more down to earth than she had during their last conversation, and Belinda explained that she'd stayed with Victoria the night before, which relieved Bennett. Apparently her friend's hospitality had calmed her down. Staying in a house with other people helped and, according to Belinda, the French toast and sausage from that morning's breakfast made a big difference in her outlook.

  Bennett's mouth crooked up as Belinda recounted these thoughts in a manner that reminded him of an underwater current. Fast, unyielding, and inescapable. She pulled him in and carried him off to sea before he knew he couldn't see land anymore. It was incredible. And what was worse, Bennett didn't mind. At all.

  But something in her manner was still off. It was probably her brother, but still...

  "Are you out for a walk?" Bennett looked her over again. Not that he needed to, but he couldn't stop himself.

  "I thought a walk might help me get some things straight in my head."