by Amy Saunders
Caleb scratched his head. "Maybe I have the wrong marker." He got up, examining other graves in the cemetery. Having no clue what he was hoping to find, other than dates and names and weeds, Belinda stood by patiently. Bewildered and frustrated, Caleb marched back over.
"Let's go somewhere public." Caleb slung a backpack on his right shoulder and Belinda dutifully followed him out of the cemetery and down the hill, gazing back at the grave in curiosity. What was he looking for?
They walked down to a coffee shop and sat in a corner perfumed with roasting beans and brewed espresso. Belinda sipped her iced latte concoction. "So are you going to tell me what's going on?"
Caleb glanced around nervously. "I was looking for a flash drive."
"In a cemetery?"
Caleb gulped. "I don't know where it would be now. She told me it was right there in that cemetery."
"Caleb," Belinda reached across the table and held his arm. "Who told you and what is on that drive?"
Caleb breathed in and out a second, gazing out the window. "Brooke. She e-mailed me out of the blue and told me she'd buried a drive in that cemetery. It has all of her notes on it. The only reason she would have told me that is if she thought I'd need to retrieve it. And...and then I found out she was dead yesterday." Caleb looked down at the table.
Belinda closed her eyes, shaking her head. She still had no idea what he meant. "You seriously need to start at the beginning. Way back at the beginning, because none of this means anything to me."
He looked confused. "She never told you?"
"Told me what?" Belinda and Brooke never talked, but apparently Caleb missed that memo.
"The way she talked about you in her e-mail, I thought for sure..." Caleb sipped his coffee. "Brooke was investigating for a story. Well, that's what she was hoping for, but I think she got distracted."
Belinda just stared at him.
"She wanted to be an investigative journalist," Caleb whispered. It was loud with all the blending and grinding and talking with high ceilings, but you never knew. "We both did. It's why I started working for April. But I changed my mind after a while and gave it up. Brooke never did."
Of all the occupations she'd considered, that never made Belinda's list. But in retrospect, it fit the puzzle.
He continued. "I hadn't seen or heard from her in forever until she showed up here. She wanted me to jump back in the game, but I told her I was done for real. No interest in going back to it whatsoever."
Belinda wrapped her head around that. "So...she was investigating aspiring fashion designers to expose them?" At least one person backstage had skeletons, and she was dead. Did her murder all come down to a story Brooke planned to do?
"Brooke would take on all kinds of work just to get a closer look behind the scenes." Caleb's eyes had gotten all reminiscent. "She always came up empty, but then she started working for Sawyer a couple years ago. I got a call one day that she'd hit pay dirt and wanted me to take an assistant's job with April. She thought she'd found something that had to do with her. So I took the job."
Belinda started to feel uneasy. Taking on all kinds of work to get to people's dirty laundry... "What happened?"
"It did have to do with April, but it also had to do with Sawyer. And...and neither of us was too keen on continuing with it."
Belinda tapped her fingers on the plastic cup. "Why not? Was it not big enough of a scandal?"
Caleb shrugged, smirking. "No one in the grand scheme of things would care, but it was more than that. I liked April. She helped me out, gave me the first steady job I'd had, and taught me a lot. And I didn't want to hurt her."
Then there was that kiss outside the art gallery and Sawyer's explosion at the pool party. "And Brooke liked Sawyer."
Caleb nodded. "She left. Went to find new work, a new possible story."
"And you stayed with April." Belinda sighed. "Did Sawyer know about all of this?"
"I don't know. I doubt it."
"What did she have on them?"
Caleb ran his fingers through his hair, somehow messing it up even more. "It was so frustrating, you know, because I did all of that to help her, but then she wouldn't tell me what she knew. It was about Sawyer, and I had to dig around to find out for myself after all that. But I worked for April, so it wasn't impossible. Especially with their joint line coming out."
"What did you find?"
Caleb looked at her significantly. "Sawyer can't sew."
Belinda stared at him. "Huh?"
"He can't sew. Not a stitch. Can't even replace a button." Caleb laughed. "Incredible, huh?"
Belinda just imagined Kori jumping all over that news, and guessed that most other designers would look down their noses at him. That detail could completely discredit him as a fashion designer. "So how did he...?"
"Moolah. Lots and lots of it to pay people. Pay some to do his sewing—and keep quiet—and more to pay off anyone who found out."
Belinda crashed back against the wood slats on her chair. Fake down to the last, wasn't he? "And April?"
Caleb looked at his hands, entwined on the table. "Not the best designer, but an excellent technician. Her work was impeccable. And despite his—impediments—Sawyer could design."
And the lights came on. So even if Sawyer could design the clothes, not being able to sew himself would still hurt his reputation, at least in his industry, and could have prevented him getting very far. But if he joined forces with someone with the opposite problem—someone who could sew wonderfully, but not necessarily design—he could solve his problem. "So their joint clothing line..."
"Mutually beneficial. Sawyer was going to design and April, execute." Caleb glanced out the window. "It would've worked out, too."
Belinda admired Caleb's sincere interest in his boss. He knew her flaws, but still believed in her. That news put a new light on the case, though. Sawyer would have had no reason to kill April, but still plenty of reasons to kill Brooke. For that matter, Brooke had a few reasons of her own to try and put Sawyer down for good, and more than likely she would've known about Sawyer's deadly shellfish allergy.
Then there was the fact that Sawyer's name was in the Sykes' super secret notebook. If Sawyer had to pay people off, he had to come by the money somehow. So maybe he had a deal going with Mrs. Sykes, who gave him the money he needed to stay afloat. But then if his arrangement with April worked out, maybe Sawyer would no longer need Mrs. Sykes' financial help with April to cover him in the sewing department.
Providing all of this was close to the mark, would that make Mrs. Sykes mad? Maybe angry enough to kill April and Brooke? But what would she get in return for giving Sawyer money? As far as Belinda knew, Mrs. Sykes had been MIA since the, um, kidnapping fiasco.
"What story was Brooke investigating?" Belinda said.
"Something to do with that blonde woman who organized the show. I really don't know the details, but I got the feeling it all went back to Sawyer somehow. Like that Brooke was investigating because of him or something." He swished his drink around. "But I think she got derailed somehow."
The fundraiser embezzling. Brooke knew and was here to finish the job. But what did Sawyer have to do with it all? "Do you know where Sawyer got the money to pay people off?"
Caleb shook his head. "He's pretty discreet about these things."
No doubt why he was so eager to shake Mrs. Sykes, who was proving to not be so discreet about things. At least right now. Maybe the divorce had frazzled her more than she let on. Either that, or maybe Riley—aka Brooke—had threatened to expose the embezzling. "Where else would Brooke have hidden the drive?"
Caleb shrugged, dismayed. "That was the only spot she told me about, so she must've moved it last second and didn't get a chance to tell me."
That wasn't particularly cheerful news. "Did she mention anything about a suitcase or a jacket?"
Caleb frowned. "No. Why?"
Belinda dismissed it. "Never mind. That's not important right now. If the drive is mi
ssing, it could mean her killer has it now. The house was turned upside down after she was killed."
Caleb shook his head fervently. "I don't think so. Brooke was smart. She would've re-hidden the drive right away."
That thought led to another disturbing idea. If Brooke had e-mailed Caleb, would the killer know about it now? "What about that e-mail she sent? Was it in code or anything? Would just anyone be able to read it and know what it meant?"
Caleb shook his head again. "I doubt it. I mean, we didn't exactly use code, but we had sort of a dialect when it came to these things. We could say stuff without really saying it."
If that flash drive was enough reason to get herself strangled to death, then it might be enough reason for the killer to come after it too. Belinda frowned. "What did Brooke want with me? Do you know?" It was the one question that really bugged her. When Belinda fired her on the yacht, Brooke had seemed genuinely disappointed. The look on Brooke's face then still bothered her.
Caleb licked whipped cream off his lips. "She thought you'd make a good partner maybe? For her investigating. Brooke read about something that happened to you earlier in a newspaper. Something to do with a boat and a kidnapping or something." Caleb waved it off. "I don't remember. Anyway, between that and some other things she observed, Brooke felt you might make a good team. It seemed you knew people well and would make a good contact. So I guess she started digging for a way to get close to you and this assistant's job came up. You know the rest."
Belinda thought back to when Brooke applied. She never would have imagined then that Brooke would turn out to be this. Amazing how many of Belinda's perceptions had gone all topsy-turvy within a week.
"Well, that's not what I expected," she said, "but it's better than no answer at all. Do you think Brooke stumbled onto something she wasn't prepared for?"
"She was brazen, so it's possible." Caleb folded his hands on the table. "Like I said, far as I know, she was back to sort of follow up on things, and maybe get a little help from you."
Help from her. Well, she certainly got it, and now Belinda was left with the whole mess. "Whatever happened, I think we need Jonas. Before one of us is crossed off the list too."
They grabbed their coffees and marched outside and past the common that led up to the church. Normally, Belinda would cut through that way to get to her car. But now she was on edge and preferred the long way around in better view of passing cars and pedestrians. Whether it was just her nerves or reality, Belinda felt like someone was following them along the cobblestoned street, and picked up her pace. Caleb passed her a look, and Belinda started to think she wasn't the only one on edge.
They speed-walked, and last second, Belinda plowed into Caleb and dragged him up the concrete steps of the post office on the corner. They took shelter in the lobby among the PO boxes, and Belinda's hand shook as she dialed Jonas. "Please come get us," she blurted. "We're at the post office."
Startled, Jonas told her to stay put. No problem. She and Caleb clung to each other as the glass door swung open. They held their breath, expecting to see some dude in black with a gun to shoot them dead right there. A glass door separated them from the counter, and nobody was in line. They could be killed and no one would even know.
Kori walked in. Caleb and Belinda let out a collective sigh of relief, and Kori turned. "You two look like death," she said, tapping a few postcards on her free hand. "What's with the sighing?"
"N–nothing," Belinda said. "We're just...waiting for someone."
"At the post office?"
"Car trouble," Caleb offered. Belinda thought both of them looked and sounded like more was wrong than car trouble, but oh well. He'd already said it.
Kori sashayed toward them. "I can take you home. My car's back at the inn, but it's only a few blocks."
"No, no. That's fine." Belinda tried to sound normal, but she babbled at the best of times. So maybe it didn't matter that she did so now. "I called someone and he's left already. No big deal." She let out a breath to steady herself.
Kori pouted. "Okay. Well, if you need a ride later, call me. I've got nothin' else to do."
"Sure thing."
Kori looked them over again, made a little shrug of her leather-bound shoulders, and went through the partition. Belinda and Caleb slumped over in exhaustion. "I think I need to go to the hospital again," he said. "I feel like my arteries are going to explode."
"Just breathe." Belinda took the lead in that, inhaling and exhaling slowly. They still huddled together when Jonas ran in.
"Are you okay?" he said. "What happened?"
"Nothing," Belinda said. "We just...we thought someone was following us. I think we're both just strung out."
Jonas glanced at Caleb curiously. "You disappeared, my friend. We tried to talk to you, but the inn told us you'd checked out suddenly."
Caleb struggled to swallow. "I–I'm sorry. It's not what it looks like."
Jonas sighed. "Alright. Into my car, you two."
They went to leave just as Kori came back out with stamps now on her postcards. She slipped them into the box and smiled wide. "Hello, Detective." Belinda wanted to roll her eyes. Not now, Kori. Please.
Jonas said something polite in response, but Belinda could tell he just wanted to get out of there, too.
"Are you their ride?" Kori said, somewhat in disbelief.
"Yeah," Jonas said casually. "We should get going. I've gotta get back to the station."
Kori pressed through the door first when he opened it, and Jonas slipped an annoyed glance at her back. Feeling safe in the passenger's seat of Jonas' sedan, Belinda waved to Kori now waiting at the crosswalk. Jonas ignored her. They did the slow-drive back past where Belinda and Caleb came from, and looped onto the main artery through town toward the station. Belinda hoped they were just paranoid because of recent events.
Of course, Belinda reminded herself, she knew better than that, too.
~ * ~
Because Caleb fled his lodging in panic after he learned about Brooke's murder, Belinda agreed Caleb could stay in the guest house with them for the moment. So an officer drove them to Belinda's car and then followed them home.
Kyle and the boy-kitten sat curled up snoozing on the couch together. Belinda walked over and dropped her bag onto the wood floor with a bang.
Kyle and the kitten sprung up in tandem. The kitten charged over Kyle's face to the other side of the room and slid his way under part of the cat tree and hid behind it.
"What?! What is it? What's happening?" Kyle blinked, his sister, hands on hips (never the start of anything good for him), standing by the end of the sofa.
"We have a guest," Belinda said. "Say hello to Caleb. Caleb, this is my brother. He snores."
Kyle wrinkled up his nose. "Hello, Caleb. That's my sister. She talks dirty in her sleep."
"I do not!"
Kyle looked at Caleb with an evil smile. "She so does. And you know who she talks dirty to?"
Belinda swept across the room, smacking Kyle across the head en route.
"Ow!" Kyle stood just to get away from her. "She's also mean, vindictive, and violent."
Belinda smiled.
While Caleb showered and changed, per her suggestion from the looks of him, Belinda conferred with Kyle on the couch, filling him in on the situation. The boy-kitten returned once it seemed safe to do so, curling next to Kyle who patted his head. Belinda arched a brow, but didn't comment. If he was getting used to the kittens, so much the better. She had no intention of parting with all of them anyway.
"You do know how to find trouble." Kyle shook his head. "You need one of those lifeline things so you can just press a button when you stumble on a murderer."
Belinda stuck her tongue out. The kitten crawled across Kyle and meowed up at her, jutting his neck out for more lovin'. "I've been so excited about opening the cupcake truck and now I want nothing to do with it." Two more days to go. She hoped she survived until then.
"You'll be fine. Just put your pa
rty face on and do it. They've got to be close to solving this case by now."
From the look on Jonas' face earlier, she thought he might be right. After a good meal, she smoothed on a clay facial mask to calm down her skin, which had erupted the past week, and trudged upstairs to watch one of her comfort action movies while the two boys—three, counting the kitten—played video games. Just as she was snuggling into the dip in the middle of her bed, there was a rap on the door. She wanted to scream Go away! She was done with surprises and information for the day.
"Bels, would you get that?" Kyle yelled.
Belinda screwed up her face in disgust. She was tired and cranky and simply not in the mood!
But she pulled herself out of her cozy niche, stomping by them. So much for her spa moment. Lazy, messy...
"Yes?" she said curtly before realizing to whom she was speaking.
Bennett's eyes crinkled up as he raised his eyebrows. He didn't say anything, just stared at her.
"What?" She blinked. Was everyone in her life hit with the incapacitated stick that day?
"Your...face." Bennett sliced his finger in the air in her face's general direction.
Belinda put a hand to her cheek, the still-moist clay squished between her fingers. "Oh!" She blushed—under the green-gray goop all over her face—and ran into the bathroom, leaving Bennett hanging around outside the door. Neither Kyle nor Caleb seemed to notice.
Belinda scrubbed the mask off, dabbing at her skin with a towel. Once she dried off and readjusted her hair and skimmed blush onto her cheeks, Belinda felt safe to return. Bennett waited at the threshold.
"Sorry," she said and smiled shyly, blushing again at her spastic rudeness, and his sneak peek into what she actually looked like on a regular basis.
Kyle almost broke into a laughing fit at the sight of Bennett, which reminded him of Belinda's tree climbing stunt, but squelched it on making eye contact with his sister. She looked sweet, but she could be downright evil when she had a mind to be.
"Sorry it's such a mess," she said, panicking as her eyes settled on Kyle's couch area. She would have to make sure Bennett only faced the kitchen.