Cliffhanger (The Belinda & Bennett Mysteries, Book One)

by Amy Saunders

  Bennett dug his hands into his pockets. "Is it true about your family?"

  Belinda got closer. "I hate pulling rank, but it's the truth. In all honesty, I think part of Lily's anger comes from knowing good and well that Mark and I, economically, were equals. Dating Mark was sort of a social stepping stone for her and if he left her for me..." She shrugged. "I guess it might have hurt her socially too. You know what they say. Keep your friends close, the people with more influence than you closer."

  "Was she using him?"

  Belinda's eyes flickered, but the flames were burning out. "Mark thought so. You saw what just happened. When you truly care about position the way Lily Devore does, you know who you have to work with and make happy."

  "Then apparently she doesn't. Look how she treats you."

  "It does hurt her, you know. Even if she thinks it doesn't. My parents have contributed a lot to the Portside community beyond just money. People don't just respect them; they like them."

  "That applies to you too."

  Belinda folded her arms. "That's only because of my parents."

  "It's because of you. When you walked out of that room, nobody saw the Kittridge's daughter. They saw Belinda."

  "I threw my family's money in their faces. I never do that. My parents never do that. And anyway, you were the one who really stood up to Lily." She waved a hand in his direction. "You didn't need a bank account to get everyone in that room listening to you."

  Bennett smirked. "She was right though. Not about how I feel about supposedly being one of them. I don't give them money for that purpose. I can and I want to. But in the end, I'm well aware my presence doesn't count for much."

  "That's not true."

  "Yes, it is. And you basically just said so yourself."

  Belinda's arms dropped to her sides and she focused on the pavement. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

  "I don't care," he said firmly. "My mom cares. But I don't." There was the slightest hint of bitterness in his voice.

  "Do you see her a lot?"

  Bennett hesitated. "Not so much. No." He laughed. But it was crisp, not playful. "Lily Devore and my mom fight their whole lives to command the sort of respect that you just come by naturally. All you had to do was throw food at somebody and you morphed into an aristocrat."

  "I morphed into my grandmother." Belinda shook her head, not realizing it before. "I was with her too long."

  "The grandmother you mentioned to Carmichael?"

  Belinda nodded proudly. "Just sitting there she has everyone acting on their best behavior. She's incredible."

  "It runs in the family."

  Belinda flushed. He was going to say something else, but she didn't give him the chance.

  She kissed him.

  Belinda wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers digging into his hair, sending chills down his spine.

  "Thank you for standing up to Lily," she said softly when it was over.

  Bennett was just trying to get the world spinning around him under control.

  "I liked Mark but I blew my chances before he started dating Lily. And then..." Belinda still gripped his hair. "I'm not making that mistake this time."

  She looked fully prepared to kiss him again and now Bennett was anchored and ready to go when a car zoomed across the road in the wrong direction down the one-way street they stood on. Bennett dove toward the sidewalk, taking Belinda right along with him. They watched the car screech left and then right across the next street and out of sight.

  Bennett helped Belinda to her feet, his heart racing.

  "I don't suppose you caught the license plate?" she said shakily.

  Feet scampered toward them, the figure of Russell Carmichael temporarily lit up under the streetlamp. "Are you kids all right?"

  Bennett nodded weakly.

  "Phew!" Carmichael said, huffing and puffing. "Your family does know how to make an exit."

  Belinda smiled wryly. "I'll tell my grandmother you said so."

  ~ * ~

  After making sure Belinda got home safely and struggling to wind down enough to fall asleep, Bennett ran out of his bedroom, following the sound of banging on his front door. He opened to a wild-eyed Belinda, her jacket askew and hair half up and half down. He tried to rub the blur from his eyes, but she was still out of focus.

  "You're not wearing pants," Belinda said flatly.

  Bennett looked down, then up, frantically looking for something to hide behind. He dashed back to his bedroom, yanking jeans out of a drawer and hopping around his bed, trying to pull them on without crashing to the floor in the process. He stuffed his head through a T-shirt as he ran back.

  "Kyle is missing!" she said before he could flick on a light. "I thought he was sleeping, but it hit me as I fell asleep that his Jeep wasn't in the driveway when I got home."

  Bennett rubbed his eyes again. "I...I'm not quite getting you. Maybe he just hasn't gotten home yet." Bennett checked the clock over the mantle nearby. "It's just one in the morning."

  Belinda stared at him like he'd gone crazy. "Where would he be?"

  "Out with friends?"

  "He doesn't have any friends!" Belinda threw her arms up. "He works, he comes home, he works. That's it. He's gotten completely antisocial."

  Bennett shrugged. "He could be at a bar. He has had a lot of stress lately."

  Belinda shook her head vigorously. "You don't know him. He's not out with friends; he's not at a bar. Something bad has happened to him. I can feel it." She pounded her chest, her eyes desperate. "Do you have any siblings?"

  Bennett shook his head no.

  "Well, I don't know how to describe this, but a twin is a sibling grown exponentially. We shared a womb. I know he's in trouble."

  Bennett sucked in a breath and grabbed his phone and keys, waving Belinda through the open door. He got behind the wheel and started moving like he knew where to go. Belinda waited for him to say where they were going, but finally couldn't wait any longer and just asked.

  "I think Kyle has been following you."

  Belinda looked at him sideways. "As in trailing me or something? How do you know?"

  "I've done a lot of trailing; I just do."

  "Since when?"

  "My guess is since the car accident. I think he knows something that we don't."

  A new wave of panic lit up her eyes. "Oh, Bennett! That's what he's been hiding! All this time..." She buried her face in her hands. "That's why he was so emotional tonight...last night...you know what I mean."

  "Emotional?"

  "Right before I left for the stupid dinner at the museum, he apologized and hugged me. But it was a weird hug. Like he was...afraid."

  Bennett sped up.

  They whirled into the museum parking lot and Belinda got out, following Bennett blindly. "Why are we here?" she whispered as they ran around the building to the backyard.

  "Because I saw Kyle's Jeep parked nearby on my way in."

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "I had no reason to at the time. And it was only a guess."

  "Now it's not a guess?"

  "Now it's not a guess."

  They checked the yard, pretty open except for a few small bushes and a couple of sculptures. Bennett grunted, looking around. He couldn't have just waltzed inside. He had to be outdoors somewhere. Belinda watched him expectantly, gripping his arm. They scaled the grounds, Bennett waving his flashlight all around, to no avail. Belinda's growing panic traveled down to her fingernails, now pinching his skin.

  "Maybe he was waiting in his car," Bennett said, his mind circling through the possibilities. What he would have done in that situation. "Or close enough to watch the building without being spotted by anyone inside." He chewed on his lip, his eyes roving from the museum to the park across the road.

  They ran to the park, starting the search systematically from the top, checking all the potential hiding spots. But there was nothing. Not even any clear evidence of someone being there earlier. Bennett switched dir
ection with Belinda clinging to him and they slowed up when Bennett found his Jeep. A whimper escaped from Belinda when he aimed his flashlight inside and lit up nothing. Absolutely nothing. She placed her hands on the window, peering inside as if that would conjure up Kyle's image.

  "We'll find him," Bennett said dialing Jonas, more panicky then he wanted to let on. Especially when he caught sight of Kyle's phone on the Jeep's console.

  "I don't understand. He's a suspect. Isn't that what the killer wants?"

  "He may simply be getting too close to the truth." Bennett counted the rings before Jonas picked up. He was there within ten minutes, his clothes as mismatched as the two of them.

  Bennett explained the situation with Belinda interjecting every few sentences. Jonas urged them to go home and try to rest. Officially, neither Bennett nor Belinda could help. So Bennett said she could sleep at his house that night and go home in the morning. But Belinda fought him, unraveling as tears slid down her face.

  "Someone might call. I...I have to be there." Sobs swallowed up the last words as she crumpled into Bennett's arms. He looked to Jonas pleadingly.

  Jonas placed a hand on her head, leaning over to see her face, half-smothered by Bennett's chest. "We need you, Belinda. You know Kyle better than anyone on this planet and we need your help to find him. But you won't be able to help us unless you're thinking clearly, am I right?"

  Belinda squeaked out a yes.

  "All right, then," Jonas said soothingly. "You go home with Bennett where you'll be safe and can sleep for a while. Then tomorrow you'll be ready to go."

  Belinda lifted her head, managing a stiff nod.

  "That's my girl." Some sort of silent understanding passed between Jonas and Bennett and Bennett took her back to his house.

  Belinda denied that she could sleep, but oddly enough, she was gone minutes after hitting the pillow. Bennett, however, stared at the ceiling from the couch in the living room, his pulse racing. He kept checking to make sure she was safe, still curled up in a ball in his bed.

  He couldn't let her see, but in the dark he had nothing to hide, and he let all of his fear surge through his body. He reviewed every detail of Jeff's murder so far, including just theories. Kyle had put something together, but what was it? What did he have that they were missing? And more worrying, did Belinda know it too? Bennett got off the couch to check on her again.

  Chapter 14

  Belinda sat down at the two-seater table just off of the kitchen shortly after first light. She'd pulled her hair back into a neat ponytail and wore slim-fitting jeans and a zippered hoodie that brought out the pink in her cheeks. And why Bennett was taking such close notice of all of this, he couldn't fathom. Aside from looking a little piqued, she looked a ton better than he felt.

  "Did you sleep well?" he said, already knowing she slept decently because he checked on her about every hour.

  Belinda nodded, giving him a strangled affirmative. "Did you?"

  Bennett hesitated. He didn't want to let on that he'd been watching her sleep. "Uh...not really."

  Her brown eyes grew sad. "I would've taken the couch."

  Now he'd made her feel bad. Great. He blew it off and changed topics. "Would you like anything?" His empty fridge flashed through his mind. "Orange juice? Water? Coffee?" Please don't ask for food, he thought desperately.

  She brightened at his last offering. "Coffee sounds wonderful."

  Bennett nodded, pleased he could at least deliver coffee, which seemed to make her happy at all times. He measured grounds into a filter, counting them off in his head, trying to think of something to say or ask.

  "You have a lovely house," Belinda said quietly, beating him to it. But she was better at that than he was. "I tried to imagine what sort of house a Bennett Tate would live in, and I have to say you have much better taste than I gave you credit for."

  Bennett pressed the power button on the coffee maker, enraptured by what she was saying. She had imagined what his house looked like. "It's not an Ocean Ave. house, but I like it well enough."

  Belinda's cheeks glowed pinker like she was embarrassed. "I...I knew your house would be nice," she yanked on the hem of her sleeves, "but I was just surprised by the architecture."

  Somehow he'd already managed to say something wrong, but he wasn't positive what it was. "What did you expect exactly?"

  Again, he said something wrong because she continued to look embarrassed. "Oh, I'm not sure I had a specific house style in mind. I like the whole shingled bungalow look. It's...it's artistic."

  Bennett raised one of his thick eyebrows, determined to say something right while he pulled out a cereal box he'd forgotten about. "Now who knows her architecture?"

  Belinda half-smiled, the rose color in her cheeks diminishing to a modest baby pink. "Are you remodeling? It looks like you're doing some work to the outside."

  He placed sugar and cream in front of her and then realized he probably should ask what she takes in her coffee. "I bought it as sort of a fixer-upper. It doesn't need major work, just some TLC."

  "And you're the one to provide it?"

  "Me and my paintbrush."

  Belinda leaned on the tabletop, her eyes rather hollow. "It's nice and quiet over here. Is it like this all summer or does it turn into Grand Central Station once tourism picks up?"

  "We'll find out for sure pretty soon. I explored this area thoroughly last summer and it seemed relatively quiet even at the height of tourism."

  Belinda dumped gracious amounts of sugar into her mug and stirred. "So is this your first summer in Portside?"

  Bennett was still reviewing the fact that she liked his house. "No, but it will be my first summer in this house. I've lived in Portside for a few years. I used to room with Jonas actually." Belinda nodded and sipped her coffee. Apparently, it was his turn. "Does your neighborhood turn into Grand Central Station in summer?"

  "Surprisingly, no. And we're right near the beach too. However, the street Victoria lives on has a constant flow of traffic the entire summer. Her husband hates it."

  Bennett frowned. "I don't think I'd like that."

  Belinda's eyes twinkled and she cocked her head to the side thoughtfully. "You know, I've wondered how many parties and events I've been to that you've—secured—before we met."

  "Haven't you been gone for a while?"

  "Yeah, but I visit sometimes, mostly to see Victoria, and we go to things. So we could have crossed paths a few times now and never known it."

  Bennett set his eyes firmly on hers. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

  Her twinkle increased. "A good thing, definitely."

  Satisfied that Belinda meant it, Bennett turned his attention to the envelope she'd set on the table. Belinda took that as her cue to explain. "I found these photos, and many more just like them, in Lily's dresser at her family's house." Belinda exhaled.

  Bennett raised his eyebrows, studying the two photos of Belinda and...

  "Mark," Belinda answered, reading his mind. "That's Mark. It's probably nothing." She pushed a loose string of hair behind her ear, keeping her eyes on the envelope.

  Bennett held up the two photos, looking at Mark a little closer. He frowned. Mark was better looking than he'd imagined. "You say there were more like these?"

  "A lot more."

  "Then this is not nothing, Belinda. This is surveillance."

  "Are you sure?"

  Bennett glanced at the photos. The telephoto lens. The hiding-in-a-bush feel. The uninhibited acting of the subjects. "Oh, yeah. I'm sure."

  Belinda hid her face in her hands, using every ounce of energy to suppress the meltdown that wanted to explode out of her. After a few minutes, she wiped away a few stray tears and faced him squarely. "What do we do?"

  "We go back to your house, and we trust Jonas."

  "Is that all we can do? I mean..." Belinda rubbed her eyes.

  Bennett put up a hand to signal for her to wait as his phone buzzed. After a couple of minutes of listening t
o Mr. Trebor talk in incomprehensible circles, Bennett finally calmed the older man down enough to find out why he was so worked up. The bottom line was that Trebor needed to talk to him as soon as possible. After promising several times over that he would meet him at the shop later that morning, Bennett returned to the table, consumed by what he'd gleaned from his conversation with Trebor.

  "What's the matter?" Belinda said.

  "I'm not a hundred percent sure. Mr. Trebor is excitable." Bennett smirked, thinking about the woman across from him. "But he sounded serious. Could be about the accident."

  Belinda almost choked on her powdered donut.

  "Don't get excited," Bennett said. "I don't know if that's true. I got surveillance and Kittridge from his babbling."

  Belinda sipped some coffee to swallow the donut successfully. Bennett found the donuts next to the cereal, but they were stale. "There are two other things I should tell you," she said.

  Bennett's eyes shot up from his coffee stirring.

  "I found a lump of cash in Jarrett's backpack when he visited me at Victoria's, and I think someone uninvited was in my house." She said the last part quickly, keeping her eyes on anything but Bennett.

  Bennett slammed his coffee mug on the table. "What?"

  Belinda winced. "I found a suspicious mud print by the side door after you left. It wasn't there when you arrived and no one I know of would have left it."

  Bennett ran his hands over his head. "I really wish you had mentioned this earlier."

  "I didn't touch it. It should still be there on the floor." Belinda licked powdered sugar from her lips. "So...you go talk to Mr. Trebor and I'll, you know, go do my thing."

  "If by your thing you mean staying at home until I get back, then yes."

  Belinda batted her eyelashes. "Of course that's what I mean."

  Bennett watched her closely. He didn't believe for a moment that's what she intended to do, but he would take measures to ensure it's what she actually did. The stakes were higher now. He thought briefly about her kiss from the night before. Now was no time to get into it, but the quicker they figured all of this out, the faster they could get on to other matters.