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

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Auf'd (The Belinda & Bennett Mysteries, Book Two) Page 9

by Amy Saunders


  Belinda let the mint dissolve slowly on her tongue. According to the tone in Mrs. Sykes' voice, Belinda suspected more would be over than just the divorce.

  Victoria's student finished and peeked behind her shyly while Belinda clapped and Mrs. Sykes yelled Bravo! She couldn't help but be impressed by a ten-year-old playing Liszt. The girl curtsied and hugged Victoria. After a brief conversation with Victoria, Mrs. Sykes ushered Adrianna out.

  "See you in a couple days!" Mrs. Sykes waved, backing out into the hallway.

  A couple days? Belinda thought, seizing the break to check her phone. Hoping, maybe a little desperately, that Bennett had left that message. But it was just the newspaper reporter getting back to her about their interview appointment.

  As she stared morosely at the screen, Belinda woke up to the fact that Victoria was standing right in front of her with an equally morose expression.

  "What?" Belinda said, remembering what happened in two days. She was going to the Sykes to scope out their pool for the party. Ugh. Did that mean enduring Aidan Sykes and his mama's matchmaking?

  "I saw Bennett," Victoria said. "At the market before I came here. He barely acknowledged me. And he looked...unhappy. Very unhappy." Victoria pinched her arm. "Man drama?"

  "Man. Drama."

  "What happened? You guys were just fine yesterday."

  Belinda rushed through a synopsis of everything that happened at the cocktail party the night before, and Bennett's strange discovery in her jacket pocket. She exhaled. "I went to see him earlier, to explain and make things right. But he's convinced I'm having some sort of fling with Sawyer, and he won't believe I don't know anything about the inn key card." Her eyes started to sting thinking about how they parted that morning.

  Victoria patted her hand reassuringly. "He'll come back to earth and believe you. Don't worry."

  "How can you be sure?" Belinda felt the urge to cry coming on and she gripped her purse.

  "Because you're going to prove the key card wasn't meant for you."

  "How?"

  Victoria pushed her playfully. "By finding out who it was meant for, goose."

  "Excuse me, Nancy Drew."

  "I'm serious. Listen." Victoria crossed her legs and leaned toward Belinda conspiratorially. "If we can find out the real reason behind Lily Devore's return to Portside, we can find out who Sawyer thought your jacket belonged to."

  Belinda pursed her lips. "I do know Sawyer and Brooke have something going on."

  "Really?" Victoria looked at her dubiously, so Belinda explained how she saw them kissing when she opened the bathroom window. It was still difficult to believe.

  "But Brooke's ruled out because she wasn't officially at the cocktail party."

  "Mrs. Sykes was." Victoria raised her eyebrows significantly.

  "After everything, a note and key card in her jacket pocket seems a little...subtle...for them."

  Victoria nodded slowly.

  "Besides," Belinda said, "I doubt Sawyer would ever think my jacket belonged to her."

  "Good point. So who at the party might have motive to see Sawyer, and might have a jacket like yours?"

  Belinda tapped the point of her chin, mentally going through the guests. There were several models there, though she didn't remember Sawyer really engaging with any of them. That surprised her, come to think of it. He did talk to one of the assistant's at one point.

  "Maybe Sawyer did mean the note for you."

  Belinda shook her head. "I don't think so. Yes, he's being overly flirtatious, but I don't believe he means it to go any further than a quick kiss in the back of the art gallery. And it's almost like...like he picked me because he knows I won't want it to go any farther."

  "It's kind of jerky of him considering you have a BF, thanks very much."

  "I don't think he cares about consequences, at least not for me. And he already has a solid rep for being a womanizer." Belinda thought about how overly personal he behaved, but then how distant he actually seemed. Then all of his violent mood swings. She felt his attention to her was because he had an image to maintain, and that was about it.

  Victoria swung her leg back and forth. "What if you did take it all the way?" Her hazel eyes sparkled wickedly.

  Belinda wasn't sure she liked the sounds of that—or the look in Victoria's eyes. "What are you suggesting?"

  "The damage with Bennett is done, and you need to get to the bottom of this. So...take Sawyer at his word. Pay him a visit at his room tonight. See how he reacts, snoop around."

  "You don't think that will be strange?"

  "Play dumb. How could you possibly know that note wasn't meant for you?"

  A hum of excitement started building in Belinda's chest. Maybe if she buttered up Sawyer, humored him, he would talk. Even admit what happened with the key card and note. "I don't have the key card though."

  Victoria chewed on her lip. "Get it back from Bennett."

  "How?" Belinda just imagined going to Bennett and asking for Sawyer's key card. Not gonna happen.

  "You have a key to Bennett's house, don't you?"

  Belinda wanted to smack her forehead. "Yes! You're right."

  Victoria grinned. "Good thing you have me around with my red hair instead of that blonde stuff shooting out of your head."

  Belinda stuck her tongue out. "Hey, you have your moments, too." She checked the time. "He probably won't be at home now."

  Victoria stood. "Then what are you waiting for?"

  Chapter 9

  Belinda and Victoria had a plan to deal with the key card situation. Not necessarily a terrific plan, in Belinda's eyes, but it was more than she'd had that morning. She could surprise Sawyer that evening, like Victoria suggested, and try and charm information out of him and maybe find out who he was actually hoping would show up at his room late at night.

  Maybe.

  But after dark, as they stood in front of the pale yellow inn that was a single-family home back in the day (the 1700s, according to the plaque on the front), Belinda's confidence vibe fizzled. Sawyer may have acted like a charming manwhore, but she'd seen evidence there was something less cheerful beneath the surface, and it worried her. From her perspective, Sawyer had no motive to kill April. But did that mean he was innocent?

  And if he and Brooke had a thing going, was all of Sawyer's flirting just a front? Belinda couldn't come up with a solid reason why they would hide their relationship. Unless, again, it had to do with Sawyer's image. But would openly having a girlfriend really hurt him that much?

  "So I told Dan I was meeting you for second dinner since you're having an awful week and needed a break." Victoria and Belinda lingered by the white fence on the narrow and uneven sidewalk. "It sounded perfectly logical because I'm a hobbit now and eat like ten times a day."

  "What did he say?"

  She frowned. "He told me to call if we got into trouble."

  Lights glowed in the restaurant in the front. Now that Belinda was there and in her Sexy Outfit, she was starting to think this wasn't a brilliant idea.

  "There are people inside and it's a small inn," Victoria offered, seeing Belinda's face start to contort from anxiety. "Just scream really, really loud and someone will hear you. And I can call Dan." She smiled.

  "Okay. I've got this." Belinda turned and strutted toward the inn's back door, key card in hand, which she'd successfully dug out of Bennett's kitchen junk drawer when he wasn't home.

  Once inside, she realized she had no idea where room twelve was, but like Victoria said, it was a small building. Room twelve couldn't be far. So she hiked up the first set of stairs without success and started for set two when she heard footsteps hurrying toward her. Belinda spun around, searching for a place to hide, and fast-walked around the staircase and into the shadows just as Brooke jogged down. She disappeared around the first set in a hurry, her fists clenched. A spat with Sawyer?

  Belinda ran (in the relative sense of the word) up the stairs. She had to get this over with. Now. Before she lo
st all her confidence. Or saw someone she knew.

  She came to room twelve, took a couple deep breaths, and slid the card into the slot. Nothing. Belinda tried again. Still nothing but red lights. Frazzled, she attempted again, and finally just pressed down on the handle quietly, but it was definitely locked. She rolled her eyes. All that for nothing! But she wasn't just turning around in defeat. Not when she'd gotten that far. Belinda knocked.

  After seconds of complete silence, Belinda started to think Sawyer was either gone or in bed, when the handle tilted and the door slipped open. She took another deep breath to steady her unraveling nerves. She was Sexy Outfit Belinda tonight. She could play Sawyer's game. She absolutely could.

  The door opened wide and Belinda lifted her gaze to a taut belly button, climbed up a sixteen pack supporting steel pecs, and finally (she swore her eyes could only move in slow motion) found a face with a well-cut jaw line and...gray eyes.

  Bennett leaned casually against the door in nothing but a towel now that Belinda mentally took a step back and could see the whole picture. She gulped. Sexy Outfit Belinda was melting—fast.

  "How'd the key card work?" he said smugly.

  The card cut into her palm as she gripped it tightly to keep from shaking. "Him...you...doesn't..." Her thoughts were even less coherent.

  "He's not in room twelve anymore." A rivulet of water dripped from his hair, creating a path back to his abs. She almost resisted watching it slide down his chest. Almost.

  She was feeling woozy. No...no, she wasn't. She was feeling...swoony. Bennett was standing in the doorway in a towel looking cocky and smug, clearly feeling victorious, while the woman in the scenario wanted to swoon over him in spite of it!

  "I hate you," she said. At least that thought came out in one piece.

  He smiled with his lips pulled together. But it was mean.

  Belinda could say a million things. It wasn't what it looked like. She had the wrong room. This is all your fault. But she didn't say any of them. She turned and ran. Well, after she paused on the stairs and ripped the three-inch heels off her feet. Then she ran down the steps and back out to Victoria, who waited on the sidewalk where she left her.

  Breathless even though she'd only run a few feet, Belinda stopped and leaned against the fence to put her shoes back on, her feet in pain from being stabbed by the rocks in the parking lot.

  "What happened?" Victoria probably expected some dramatic escape story, but that was not to be.

  "There was a...situation."

  "What kind of situation?"

  Belinda looked at her sideways. "Bennett was in Sawyer's room...in a towel...all satisfied that he caught me in the act."

  "Bennett was in a towel!" Victoria folded her arms. "So, he's..."

  "Glorious."

  Victoria nodded like it only confirmed her beliefs.

  "And now he really hates me." They strolled back to the car, Belinda slumped over and seriously hating those shoes now. "I said I hated him, but it's really the other way around. And I'm here with Sawyer's stupid key card, in this stupid outfit, and Bennett is in there in a towel...hating me. And I did all of this to prove I'm not doing anything with Sawyer, and now I look guiltier than ever!" She kicked at some gravel on the sidewalk, which almost sent her toppling to her rump.

  "Well, you look super hot."

  Belinda crossed her arms. "I doubt he even noticed. I, on the other hand, was practically drooling all over his wet abs!"

  "He was wet?"

  "Yes. He had water cascading down muscles forged in the fires of Mount Delicious."

  "No wonder you couldn't breathe when you got down here." Victoria fanned herself with a hand. "Look, he may be a serious, focused, somewhat upset man, but he's still a man. And there's no way he wasn't about to drool all over you in those jeans."

  Belinda forced a smile. "Thanks."

  "It's true! And you're not finished here."

  "No?"

  "No. We'll figure something out." Victoria wrapped her arm around Belinda's shoulder in a side hug.

  "I did have a thought in my dash through the inn."

  "What's that?"

  "Who says the card was put in my pocket at the cocktail party?"

  They stopped walking and Victoria cocked her head to the side. "You wouldn't have noticed it?"

  Belinda shrugged. "I've been running in circles. So maybe not. I just don't want to get stuck thinking it had to happen one way."

  "No, no. I agree." Victoria looped her arm through Belinda's and they started moving again. "If that's the case, then who says Sawyer has anything to do with it?"

  "You mean, someone else may have planted the key card?"

  "Why not? How hard would it be? 'Course, why do it in the first place?"

  This little notion sounded plausible. Belinda scanned through possibilities. "Maybe someone's trying to setup Sawyer...or put the spotlight on him."

  "Or, maybe, someone's trying to do the same to you."

  Belinda wasn't sure why anyone right now would have reason to set her up, or get her in some sort of trouble. But it had gotten her in trouble, even if only with Bennett. "Who would want to do that? It's only creating personal problems for me."

  "I don't know, Bels. But I do know you are a magnet for these things." Victoria poked her arm. "And you are a central figure in the runway show."

  She had a point.

  "So let's say someone is trying to ruin my life," Belinda said. "What purpose would that serve?"

  "It's certainly a distraction."

  "But it's not like it throws suspicion onto me. If I were a murderer, that would be the top priority...throwing suspicion on anyone else but me." Not that she had any experience offing people, but it made sense to her.

  "Maybe whoever did this doesn't need to worry about that right now." They hopped down from the sidewalk to cross the street. "Maybe they have other things that require attention."

  "Meaning my love life?" Belinda laughed. "They must be really desperate."

  "I don't know, Bels. You're snoopy."

  Belinda raised her eyebrows. "Like the cartoon dog?"

  "No!" Victoria pushed her. "Like you like to snoop. Get to the bottom of things. You're not happy not knowing all the gritty details. And you will find out—one way or another."

  Another good point. And it had gotten her in some serious trouble before, but it also led to more questions. She didn't know any of the fashion show people that well. "Sawyer doesn't know that."

  "No, he doesn't. He does know you helped organize the event and that Bennett—the security for said event—is your boyfriend." They found Victoria's car and ducked inside simultaneously. "Maybe he's scared you'll uncover something."

  "You're right." Belinda stared out into the dark, a little stunned by that realization. "But I still don't feel that he did this particular thing."

  Victoria tapped the steering wheel. "It could be someone who knows you through a friend."

  "It could be you." Belinda pointed at Victoria's nose.

  "I do have extreme hormone fluctuations right now." Victoria's hand automatically went to her belly.

  "See? I knew you were trying to ruin my life."

  Victoria laughed.

  "I think we need to take our eyes—figuratively—off Sawyer." Belinda locked the car, just in case. "I'm sure he's guilty of something. But I don't think this is it."

  Belinda woke up the next morning with an aching tummy and buried her head under the pillow to drown out the sound of some hideous power tool. Couldn't they invent something quieter?

  Belinda's head, heart, and the rest of her organs and extremities were still a gumbo of feelings after seeing Bennett at the inn the night before. She'd been so muddle-headed when it happened that she couldn't even articulate basic questions. What are you doing here? Where is Sawyer? Should I worry that they'll find his body later?

  Their plan was an epic fail. Bennett thought she was a dirty trollop, and Belinda couldn't blame him since she'd just show
n up at Sawyer's room in her Sexy Outfit. And she'd hit a dead end when it came to ideas of what to do.

  Groan.

  It served Belinda right for getting within five inches of a man with hair like Sawyer Gallen's. Any man with blonde hair who used enough product to ensure it wouldn't budge even during a hurricane was trouble.

  Now, Bennett on the other hand. Hair the color of espresso, and coffee is the one thing you can always count on. Coffee and taxes. (Or was it death and taxes? Belinda couldn't recall.) The man knew how to use gel, but to the proper degree. His hair let you know that he wasn't going to mess with you. At least not in an undesirable way.

  If only Belinda had done this amount of hair analyzing earlier! It was obviously the key to all of her current man problems. There had to be a way to retro-apply her newfound understanding of the importance of a man's hair color and style and mend her relationship with Bennett.

  Belinda managed to sit up and gathered enough strength to leave her parents another voicemail with the purpose of telling them about the hole in the wall. But she chickened out last second and ended up just saying she wanted to say hello and hoped to talk soon, which wasn't really true. She didn't want to talk soon because she'd have to give them renovation updates. And renovation updates meant telling them about the hole in the wall.

  She left the safety of the nook in her bed and let the shower wash away gloomy-puss Belinda. She had a lot of work ahead of her that day, which meant crossing off a few big things on her list. (Good.) But it also meant she had to be cheerful and act problem-free. (Bad.) By the time she'd finished her coffee, slid on her BB cream, and stepped into her flats, she was thrilled-to-be-alive-and-opening-a-business Belinda.

  First up, the Cake Diva photo shoot with her cousin. Mia came early and helped Belinda get more in the mood to strike a pose. By the time the photographer showed, she felt like smiling genuinely, and didn't have to try so hard to appear happy.

  She survived and a couple hours later, Belinda stood in the yard alone, admiring how the sun glistened off the Cake Diva truck. Mia was panicking over one of the cupcake flavors and took off to tweak it while Belinda handled the newspaper reporter on her own. She thought they had some good shots of the two of them with the truck—and the cupcakes—and hoped the positive, exuberant attitude she struggled to wear for two hours came across as real and not put on. Belinda was starting to understand why Sawyer's facade kept slipping. It was exhausting pretending to feel one way, when you absolutely don't.

 

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