“Ellen?”
“What’s that now?”
“Do you think Lee would rent me her house when the filming’s over?”
“I’m sure she would.” Ellen crossed her arms over her chest. “You thinking of moving here?”
Bella flushed with warmth, realizing she hadn’t told anyone out loud. “Ben and I want to get married.”
Ellen’s eyes sparkled. “Well, now, that’s a little soon, don’t you think?” But Bella could tell by the way she said it that Ellen didn’t really think it was too soon.
“Do you think love at first sight’s a real thing?”
“I most certainly do. Verle and I are the perfect example.”
“Was that how it was for you two?”
“Yes, and think about that. Both of us in our seventies, just minding our own business and boom, there was the other.”
“How come you two don’t get married?”
Ellen smoothed her apron with her hands. “He wants to. I just don’t know if I want some old geezer in my house all the livelong day.”
“But you said you love him.”
“I surely do. And he stays over most every night. But there’s something to be said for us choosing the other every day instead of waking up married, obligated, so to speak. This way the romance never dies. Each day, he calls me up and asks may he come over and I always say yes. We choose the other every time. Does that make sense?”
Bella sighed, making a heart with her fork in the leftover sauce around the empty plate. “It does. So romantic, actually.”
“Why Bella Webber, you’re nothing but a softie. I had you pegged for a saucy, hard little thing when I first saw you traipsing around in your bikini at Drake’s.”
“That was before I met Ben. My heart’s turned into a bunch of goo.”
“Well, now, I don’t think you two should live in sin like Verle and me. Don’t want to give you that impression one bit.”
Bella laughed. “Why not? You just said how romantic it is.”
“Yeah, but we’re not young. You two need to get married and start making some babies.”
“Oh, Ellen, I would love a baby. I mean, not right away. But I saw that swing out there by the river and all I could think of was a little boy and Alder shouting and swinging on Sunday afternoon.”
Ellen patted her arm. “That would be something.”
Bella glanced at her watch. “Yikes. I have to get back to set. We’re filming in a half hour and I have to make sure my beauties are beautiful.”
“Run along now. You tell Richard I’ll bring the pies over later tonight.”
“Los Angeles caterers have nothing on you, Ellen.”
“Amen to that.”
***
Cheered by Ellen’s good company, she traipsed back through the grasses, bowed now from her earlier footsteps as if ashamed. The sun had appeared when one of the dark storm clouds moved. Drops of water clung to the grass and glittered in the bright light. The yellow hues of the grasses were as varied as the variety in her eye shadow kits: Dijon mustard, straw, autumn leaves, roasted marshmallow. She could see the farmhouse when her cell phone buzzed with a text. It was from Ben. “Drake posted bail. I’m free. For now anyway. Missing you like crazy. And scared, Bella. Really scared.”
She stopped, typing quickly with her thumbs. “I’m scared too. But Peter and I are onto something. I’ll be home around nine. Filming until then.”
***
Bella and Cleo were with Genevieve in her trailer, playing Crazy Eights. As they set cards down, the two actresses ran lines for the scene they would film after dark. Bella kept one eye on the script, prompting them if they stumbled on a line.
“I have to be perfect, Bella,” said Gennie. “Not a missing or exchanged word.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Bella. “I’ve done this before.”
Gennie smiled. “Of course you have. It’s just I want to honor the writer by getting every one of her words correct.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard this from you before too.” Bella yawned, feeling the effects of yesterday’s traveling and the constant worry about Ben.
“Learned this trick in drama school,” said Cleo after they’d run the scene through three times without missing a line. “Running lines while doing a meaningless task.”
“Whoever says Crazy Eights is meaningless never had to occupy a ten-year-old boy,” said Bella, thinking of the many games she’d played with Alder last summer.
“Sometimes I do it jumping rope,” said Genevieve.
“Oh, that’s a good one,” said Cleo. “I need to figure out how to lose a few pounds anyway.”
“Can we play poker now?” asked Bella.
“I hate playing poker with you,” said Genevieve. “You always win.”
Bella grinned. “It’s because you have no poker face. I can read you like a book.”
“When was the last time you read a book?” said Genevieve.
“Cleo, I have to tell you what Peter said to Madam Zinn.” She relayed the story to the two women. “Your husband’s a cool cat, as Alder would say. Although his whole health food thing is annoying.”
“Tell me about it,” said Cleo.
Genevieve’s voice was soft, almost wistful. “They don’t make many men like Peter Ball.”
“Or Ben Fleck,” said Cleo to Bella.
“Or Stefan Spencer,” said Gennie.
Had she just said that? Bella watched her friend’s face carefully. Was there something between them or were they just friends? “What’s going on between you two?”
Gennie smiled, her eyes glassy. “He’s the most generous actor I’ve ever worked with.” She put her hand on Cleo’s forearm. “And by actor, I mean male actor. Most of the women I work with are very generous. Comes with being a woman, I think. We’re more apt to give others the spotlight.”
“I can’t believe I’m actually sitting here talking to Genevieve Banks about acting.” Cleo pinched her own arm. “Is this a dream?” She sobered, looking guilty. “Of course, I feel terrible about the way I arrived here.”
“Tiffany made poor choices, again and again, and received many second chances,” Genevieve said, not unkindly or with judgment, but with the sad tone of inevitability.
There was a light tap on the trailer door and then Peter entered. “Am I interrupting anything?”
“No, we’re running lines and waiting for them to call us,” said Cleo.
Peter kissed his wife on the cheek and then turned to Bella. “I have news. We were right about Hough. The front desk clerk remembered him. And he’s in the footage. Registered under John Miller. Paid cash. But it’s him. Which means he was in the lodge the night she was killed.”
Hope beat loud in Bella’s chest and spread to her limbs. This was the break they needed. He had to be the killer. And Hough’s brother had pinned it on Ben to cover it up. “What next?” she asked Peter.
“I’m going to the Echo Grove District Attorney with this. If he has any integrity at all he’ll order a DNA test, and if it’s Rawley Hough’s sperm, they’ll start an investigation. My prediction is both brothers will go down.”
“Have you told Ben yet?” Bella realized she was still holding her cards. She set them on the table.
“I talked to Annie. Drake and Ben are on their way home from Echo Grove. She said she’d tell them about it when they got there. I’m going to track down the local D.A. Apparently he eats at the Echo Grove Country Club every Tuesday night.”
Bella slid her cards across the table. “I’m coming too.”
“But what about us?” asked Gennie.
“I’ll get the other girl to cover me. But I’ll probably be back in time given how slowly they’re moving.”
Gennie nodded. “All right. Good luck.”
“Yeah, good luck,” called Cleo as the trailer door shut behind them.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE ECHO GROVE COUNTRY CLUB was next to a golf course overlooking the valley below. Peter asked th
e hostess at the club’s restaurant to point him to the District Attorney, Jeremy Hayes, which she did without question, which Bella found odd. No one in Los Angeles would do that. People were so trusting here. It was weird.
Mr. Hayes was dining alone. He was a large man, not overweight but oversized, with shoulders the size of a linebacker and legs that stretched almost the entire length of the table. There was a half-eaten steak and baked potato on his plate and a diet soda with lemon next to it. He looked up from his dinner when they approached, with an expression of curiosity on his square face. Bella guessed he was in his fifties but his skin was dark and unlined. His nose was hawk-like and his eyes the color of bitter coffee next to high, deep cheekbones. Native American, Bella wondered?
“Mr. Hayes, I’m Peter Ball from the Seattle Police Department. I apologize for interrupting your dinner but I need a word with you about a personal matter.”
Hayes nodded at him, his thick eyebrows knotting together like two caterpillars kissing. He set aside his plate and indicated for them to sit. “I know who you are. I’ll choose to ignore the fact you’re clearly working outside your jurisdiction.” His voice was low and deep and without inflection.
Peter looked surprised. “You know who I am?”
“My people know you’ve been looking into the Tiffany Archer murder.”
“Oh, well, do you know why?” Peter and Bella both sat.
Hayes ignored the question. “I knew your father back in the day.”
Peter flinched like Hayes had suddenly moved to strike him. “Oh.”
Hayes moved his eyes to Bella. Although he spoke to Peter he kept his gaze upon her. “Played football with him at Oregon. Shame what happened to his knee. These are defining moments, I’m afraid. How we react to something catastrophic can determine the path of our lives.”
Bella squirmed in her seat. Was it unusually hot in here? She shrugged out of her jacket, slipping it around her waist where it stayed, like a child’s inner tube.
“Yeah, well, all indications were he was an asshole even before he blew out his knee.” Peter played with the tablecloth, his fingers gathering the material into a bunch before smoothing it with his other hand.
Shocked, Bella turned to look at her new friend. This was not the Peter she knew and had grown so fond of the last several days. His voice had sounded like someone young and petulant but at the same time weary and sour.
Hayes turned his gaze back to Peter. “Ah, well, the sins of the father are evident here.”
Peter stared back at him with the eyes of a wounded child but was silent.
Hayes’s glittering black eyes moved to her, resting without blinking on her face. “You’re Drake Webber’s sister.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah. You know him?”
“I know of him. He’s a generous man. There are several philanthropic endeavors he’s committed to here in Echo Grove very close to my heart.” He pushed back his chair slightly from the table and crossed one enormous leg over the other. “You’re both here to talk to me about Ben Fleck’s innocence. Isn’t that right?”
“That’s right,” said Bella, somewhat alarmed. Did he know everything about them? Hayes was like the male, suit-wearing version of the freaky medicine woman telling fortunes out of her shack in the bayou.
“I’m good at my job, Mr. Hayes,” said Peter, sounding again like a child talking to his father.
“I know. I’ve followed your career.”
“You have?” Peter was still now. Was he breathing?
“Yes.” Hayes said this simply, as if it were of no consequence and therefore needed no explanation. “You’re a man of character.” He spread his enormous hands over his chest and took in a deep breath. “Tell me your theory.”
Peter did so, telling him what they’d discovered and his suspicions about Hough and Carrot Cop. Hayes kept his gaze focused on Peter’s face the entire time but did not react in any discernible way. After he finished, Hayes sat forward and took a sip of his soda. “I’ve suspected all along Ben Fleck was innocent. And I believed there was something rotten inside our police department. However, I wasn’t sure why they would pin it on someone who would surely be cleared the minute a DNA test came back and I could not imagine the motive for doing so. Therefore, I’ve chosen to let it unfold, hoping the guilty parties would become obvious. My sincerest apologies to Mr. Fleck but up until now, I’ve had nothing concrete in which to substantiate my suspicions other than an anonymous tip from someone inside the police force. Mr. Ball, you’re indeed good at your job. I expect my colleagues in Los Angeles and my Echo Grove team can adequately take it from here. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the office. Expect all charges against Ben Fleck to be dismissed within the hour.” He rose to his feet and it seemed to Bella it must take great strength to heave such a body out of a chair. “Before I go, tell me about young Fred Hughes.”
“Green, but a man of character,” said Peter.
“Excellent. I’ll call you later, Mr. Ball, to apprise you of the situation. Good night, then.” He shook both their hands in succession. “The sins of the father, Bella Webber, needn’t dictate your life. You’re a woman of character, despite it all.” He headed toward the exit in long strides, surprisingly graceful for a man his size. And then he was gone. The room seemed smaller, somehow, and dimmer.
And although it would have been normal for them, in elation and relief, to hug or shout or do a cartwheel, they did not. Instead, they stared at one another across the discarded steak and potato dinner in a kind of shock. Finally, Bella spoke. “What the hell just happened?”
“I don’t know but I wish he’d adopt me.”
“Yeah, me too.”
***
Peter dropped her off at the set less than thirty minutes later. As she suspected, they hadn’t yet started to film. They did only four takes of the scene and the minute they were done, Bella left, leaving Gennie and Cleo behind to watch the dailies. By the time she arrived at her brother’s, Ben, Peter, and Drake were sprawled on the couches in the front room with their feet on the coffee table. There was a roaring fire in the stone fireplace and several bottles of wine open. When he saw her, Ben stood, his face twisting with emotion. He came to her and brought her into his arms, lifting her off her feet and holding her tight against him. “Bella, I missed you.”
He smelled as he always did; she breathed in his scent, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I missed you too.”
Peter motioned for them to sit. “Bella, have a glass of wine. I just heard from Hayes.”
After they’d met with the Hayes, Hough, his lawyer at his side, was brought into the LAPD and questioned. He confessed rather quickly to, as he put it, “Sleeping with Tiffany. She liked it rough.” And yes, he’d gone to scare her, to put a stop to the blackmail scheme. When she opened the door of her room at a little after one in the morning, disheveled and still somewhat out of it, he’d pushed her inside and told her the reason for his visit. She denied the blackmail, saying she had no idea what he was talking about. She pretended to know nothing about the client book and told him she was broke. “I have the almost-empty bank accounts to prove it. If I’m blackmailing you, then where’s the money?”
During questioning, he’d become agitated at this point. “I just wanted the little bitch to own up to what she’d done and I had my ways of getting her to confess. What started out as a little physical intimidation turned into hot, rough sex. She liked it that way and so do I. Is this a crime? Not in my experience.”
Given the bruising and tearing, though, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind, according to Peter, that it was anything other than rape.
Regardless, Hough would not admit to killing her. He told them he’d torn the room apart looking for the book but adamantly denied murdering her, saying he left her a little before two o’clock in the morning, very much alive.
His brother, Carrot Cop, was also brought in for questioning and immediately admitted to pinning the entire thing on B
en Fleck in order to protect his brother. Peter said Hayes told him it was pitiful the way he gave in so quickly. “I just wanted to help my brother,” Carrot Cop said. “So he’d finally respect me.”
And just as it had begun in an instant, so it was done. Ben was free of suspicion. “This is really over?” Bella asked Peter.
“At least as far as Ben’s concerned. Proving Hough killed her may or may not be easy.” Peter smiled. “But it’s no longer our problem.”
“Ben, it’s done.” Bella held his hand and put her head on his shoulder. He was home where he belonged.
“Tonight, we celebrate,” declared Annie, bringing in a plate of appetizers. “I’ll invite everyone over and make whatever you want to eat, Ben.”
He didn’t hesitate. “Coq au Vin.”
“Done,” said Annie, hugging him. “I’m so happy this is over.”
“So am I,” he said, making eye contact with Bella. His eyes were laughing.
***
That night, the gang gathered once again around the long table in Drake’s dining room. Besides the immediate family and their houseguests, in attendance were: Tommy and Lee, Peter and Cleo, Ellen and Verle, Alder and Ellie-Rose, Mike and Sharon, Linus and his boyfriend John, Cindi, and Gennie and Stefan. Everyone talked and laughed. To Bella it felt as if nothing could possibly ever bother any of them again. Ben was free.
Before they began the first course, Ben rose to his feet, tapping his glass with a spoon. “I don’t know what to say in way of thanks, really, to any of you. I’d be facing a long trial if it weren’t for you all. I’m not sure why you all believed in my innocence without knowing me better than you do. But I’m grateful. Especially to Peter and Bella, obviously. Knowing how easily I could have lost everything that mattered to me brings everything into crystal clarity. Who I am. What I want. How grateful I am for my life, for freedom, for all of you.” He held up his glass. “To freedom. To friends. To life.” They all toasted, the table exploding with voices and laughter. Then, Ben set his glass on the table, wiped his eyes with the cloth napkin and reached inside his jacket pocket. “I have one more thing I want to say before we dig into Annie’s amazing food.” In his hand was a small blue box. Bella stared at him, her heart pounding against the fabric of her blouse.
Riverstar Page 21