by Amy Saunders
Belinda motioned for Kyle and Caleb to get out. Kyle raised his arms in protest. "Where are we supposed to go?"
"It's nice out," she said. "Go sit in one of the lawn chairs on the water for a while. It'll be good for you."
Kyle reluctantly got up, dragging his body out the door with Caleb in tow. "May the Force be with you," he said to Bennett, spluttering into a laugh.
Belinda stuck out her tongue when Bennett turned his head. They both waited in silence until sure Kyle was out of range.
"So you have a kitten problem," Bennett said.
"Oh...right." He hadn't been over since she found them. Belinda led him over to the couch, explaining how someone abandoned them on the side of the road.
Bennett scooped up a kitten in each hand, resting them against his chest as they mewed, coming back to life reluctantly. His face softened as he scratched under the boy-kitten's chin, who stretched his neck in bliss. "What are you going to do?"
Belinda picked up one of the other kittens who mewed at her in dismay at being left out. "I don't know yet. I may ask around to see if anyone wants to adopt one."
"Will you ask me?"
Belinda blinked. Honestly, she probably wouldn't have. "Would you like to adopt one?"
Bennett looked down at the only kitten still on the floor—pure charcoal gray. "I might." He held up Aria to see into her round eyes. "It's been a while since I lived with a cat. Do you think you can bear to part with one?"
Belinda had picked up the fourth kitten, talking to it softly and rubbing her cheek against the kitten's head. Her heart did tug at the thought of one leaving. But she thought four cats at a time was probably overkill. "As long as I know she's cared for. I'll be fine."
Bennett half-smiled in his way. Belinda relaxed, exchanging the two kittens in her hands for the boy-kitten and Aria. He was smiling in her presence again. She was worried that would never happen. Of course, as Bennett once said to her, "ever is a long time."
"Is this why you came by?" Belinda asked tentatively. "To see the kittens?"
He looked up from his mind meld with the gray ball of fluff, cradling the kitten against his neck. "No. It was just a good excuse." He moved closer. "I want to ensure we're on the same page. I don't want any more misunderstandings."
"Okay." Belinda's heart started to pick up speed. She was nervous about what came next. Maybe things weren't as settled as she'd promised Victoria.
"I want to make sure you were sure at the station." Bennett gazed at her through his eyelashes. "I want to know it wasn't just impulse."
At the police station. When she kissed him. Belinda wanted to crumple onto the couch in relief. "Is that all? You scared me." She set down one of the kittens who wiggled around in her hands. "I can't say it wasn't spontaneous, but I meant it. All of it."
Bennett nodded, his eyes—and even facial muscles—betraying his relief too. "I am sorry, Belinda. For everything. For not believing you and–"
"Tricking me at the inn and kissing my PA..." Belinda's eyes glittered.
Bennett's lip curled up. "You were right," he said softly. "I didn't give you a chance to explain and I should have."
Belinda melted and she wanted to hug him. Maybe she should let him sweat some, but she was too tired and worried and miserable to do that. "I'm sorry for this whole mess. Sawyer looks like trouble, you know? With that hair and always wearing a three-piece suit..." She was running out of air and took a moment to breathe. "I value our friendship and I don't want that to get messed up because of him.
"I forgive you," she said. "For everything."
Bennett looked like she felt—like the world was just lifted off his shoulders. He put aside the kittens and came closer, leaning in. She was closing her eyes to finally get that ground-shaking kiss he'd teased her with twice now, when she caught sight of Kyle making smoochy faces at them through the window. They backed away from each other quickly, both coloring.
"I should so change the locks on him." Belinda said to Bennett, pushing hair behind her ear.
"I'm not sure locks will help with a piece of tarp on the side of your house."
Belinda sighed. "You noticed." Belinda gave him the lowdown on the hole-in-the-house, which she intended to be a quick review, but in her way, turned into a rather long, winding tale, with footnotes and appendices. But she told every nuance with puppy-like enthusiasm nonetheless.
Even if Bennett missed the entire point of what she was saying (and he did follow her stories pretty well), all that mattered was that she was talking. To him, and not to someone else. And he savored every spastic hand gesture and tonal exclamation point that dotted her story.
Belinda finished, taking a huge gulp of air. "So that's the deal with the tarp on the side of the house."
"You do have a way of making relatively ordinary things dramatic."
"It's been an ordeal." She petitioned Kyle, who slunk in with Caleb mid-story. "Kyle, hasn't it been an ordeal?"
Kyle looked at Bennett dramatically. "It's been an ordeal." Then when Belinda looked away, he mouthed, "Because of her."
"A tarp is not a very secure way to deal with the hole," Bennett said.
"I know," Belinda said. "But we have to keep it covered up somehow."
Bennett dug his hands in his pockets. "The tarp is not going to work out."
"You don't like the tarp? It was my idea...I think. Kyle always has tarp lying around and I thought it would be a quick fix."
Bennett nodded.
"It was the middle of the night...ish."
A glint lit in the back of Bennett's eyes. How she'd missed the glint! Even if it did mean he was thinking something cheeky.
"I've had a lot of stress," she said. "Someone was dead, we have all this chaos around the house day in and day out, you." She pointed a finger at his nose. "All I knew is that we had to cover up the hole and tarp sounded like a good idea."
The glint had grown to full strength. "It was the perfect improv fix, but it's unacceptable as a long-term solution."
Belinda put her hands on her hips. "Well, I tried. I have Kyle who couldn't care less that our house could become a habitation for squirrels."
"Hey, I care. Kind of." Kyle took a swig of beer.
Bennett smiled. "We'll get some plywood and put up a more permanent temporary solution, alright?"
Kyle sunk into his couch-bed and flipped on the TV. Apparently, his time to be nice and let them have some privacy was over.
Bennett let that conversation settle before he spoke again. "So, you were stressed out about me?"
Belinda slanted her eyes. Such cheek! But it only made her like him more. "Well, it had to happen at some point. But like you said to me earlier, don't ever do that to me again."
He smirked. "As soon as this is all over, we're replacing that," Bennett said in disgust to the bulky black organizer on the kitchen island.
Belinda glanced back at it, about to ask what had happened to Brooke's digital devices, when it occurred to her that the organizer had not been there before. "Kyle?" she said, walking toward it. "Did you put this here?"
"It was on Sea Stud when I got home yesterday," he said from the couch. "Figured it was yours. Why?"
An idea slammed into her. Belinda hadn't seen the organizer since the runway show. In all likelihood, Brooke was frolicking around Portside when Belinda met Bennett at the nursery. So maybe Brooke left it on Sea Stud when she snuck out. Without saying a word, she ripped open the organizer, flipping through it, holding it up and shaking it, examining all sides.
Bennett stood at a distance. "What are you doing?"
Belinda stared at the organizer hard. Where would it be? A gleam lit her eyes as she settled on the faux leather encasing the inside of the front and back covers. She felt along, her fingers barely grazing a bump in the fabric. She grabbed a paring knife, mercilessly stabbing at the fabric. Bennett kept his distance until the flailing with knife in hand ended.
Belinda ripped open the fabric where she'd made a decent gou
ge, feeling and prying until a slim device peeked out of the mess. By now, Kyle and Caleb had come to stand by and watch the action. She held the flash drive up in triumph. "Got it!"
The kitchen window exploded, something hard glancing off the back of Belinda's head. She toppled over, the flash drive skimming across the tile under the cabinets.
Chapter 25
Bennett killed the lights and dragged her into the bathroom as gunshots flew through the broken glass, tearing into the cabinets and wall. The four of them crowded into the bathroom and into the tub on Bennett's command. He held Belinda, who came to and glanced at her hands through blurry eyes.
"The drive!" she squeaked.
Bennett cupped a hand over her mouth. More glass shattered outside, and then broken glass crunched. He was coming inside...and the drive. The drive was on the floor in plain sight, wasn't it?
Belinda wanted to scream. She should have been less obvious about the search, being suspicious as she was that the killer knew Brooke had contacted Caleb about the drive. "We have to go out there," she hissed. "We can't let anybody take it!"
"Hush!" Bennett was trying to work it out, she could see that. But he needed to think faster.
She looked around the room for a weapon. A plunger? Probably not a good enough defense against a gun. Other than that and some cleaning supplies under the cabinet, there was nothing solid.
On the other hand... Belinda wrenched from Bennett, a little wobbly, and pulled out bottles of cleaner. Spray bottles with bleach and vinegar. Not a gun, but better than a plunger.
Realizing Belinda was about to go out and attack the gunman with a spray bottle, Bennett snatched them from her hands and forced her back with Kyle, indicating for everyone to be quiet.
"If I get shot," he whispered, "it's your fault."
Belinda held her breath as he slowly opened the door, using it for protection, and peeked around the edge. Someone hidden by a hood bent double, scanning the kitchen floor, completely preoccupied. Good. Bennett jumped out and unleashed a round of cleaning agents with both hands. Surprised, the attacker stumbled back, screeching as some of the product hit her face. From the scream and size of the person, it was most likely a woman.
She ran, throwing open the door and dashing into the night, either hurting from the bleach attack or too surprised to remember she carried a gun. Bennett pursued, still holding his spray bottles, but when he got to the street, no one was to be found. And it was too dark to see very far. He ran back, threw on the lights, and yelled that it was safe as he called the police.
Belinda was out first, her eyes blinking to adjust to the light. She grabbed Bennett's face and kissed his cheek, stroking the side of his head. "Are you okay?" she said.
He nodded, his gray eyes puffing smoke. "I'm fine. Greatly in part, I think, to the fact that we're dealing with an amateur. I think she forgot she was holding a gun."
"She?"
"Looked—and sounded—like a woman to me." Bennett examined the window. There was a lot of broken glass and more holes to fix. Excellent. If they caught her, Belinda was suing for house damages. "Don't suppose Kyle has more tarp lying around."
While Bennett relayed the events to the dispatcher, Belinda got on her hands and knees and crawled around. She thought the drive slid over there somewhere, and found it safe in a corner under the cabinets. She retrieved it, stuffing it into one of her pockets.
Jonas came along with the parade of police and paramedics. Apparently, he never went home anymore. He gazed around the guest house in disbelief. This woman just couldn't get away from it, could she? "Unbelievable," he said mystified as she held out the flash drive. "Spray bottles, Bennett?" He looked incredulously at the clear plastic bottles sitting on the island. "You took on a dude with a gun with two spray bottles?"
"I told him to do it." Belinda sat on a stool while a paramedic checked her out. So far she seemed okay, just a little dizzy after she stood up from crawling on the floor. "I was going to myself, but he took over."
The two men exchanged glances and burst out laughing.
"What?" she said.
"It's your bluntness," Bennett said with a glimmer in his eyes.
Belinda crinkled her nose. "Well, I would have. I wasn't letting some upstart with a gun get the better of me after all that."
Jonas grinned, twirling the drive around between his thumb and index finger. "Got a laptop?"
A few minutes later, they were all in a semi-circle with Belinda at the center, wading through files and files of notes. Well, to be more technical, dirt. Dirt on lots of people Brooke had worked for. Most of the names were unfamiliar, people and companies out-of-state. But she had files on April, the Sykes, and even Sawyer, which surprised Belinda. Maybe she held onto it just in case it became useful.
She breathed a sigh of relief there was no file on Belinda Kittridge. Maybe she just wasn't interesting enough, which Belinda couldn't decide to take as an insult or not.
"What's she got on Sawyer?" Bennett said a little too eagerly.
Belinda answered without hesitating. "He can't sew."
There was a long pause as the unaccustomed ears in the room absorbed that knowledge, once she explained the significance. Then somebody laughed. Belinda peeked behind her. Bennett crashed into the counter behind him, holding his stomach and laughing so hard his face turned red. Belinda wasn't sure if the rest of them were so astonished because of the news or Bennett's reaction.
She waited for him to settle down before continuing the search, feeling like she did after telling Kyle about jumping out the window. It wasn't that funny.
Belinda really wanted a folder labeled "Significance of Pink Leather Jacket," but there was no mention of it anywhere, which left her very disappointed. She skimmed everything on April and Sawyer and even the Sykes, but not a word about a jacket. (There was word, however, about the fundraiser embezzling. But that was another rant.)
What was the deal? Brooke practically got them killed over this thing but didn't bother to fill them in on why. Or, maybe she intended to, but never expected to die before she got a chance.
Belinda tapped her fingers on the hardwood sample she'd left on the counter, scanning through the folders while Bennett still struggled to compose himself.
"Is your mother an interior designer or something?" Jonas said, glancing at the samples.
"No, but she gets weird when making interior design decisions and starts thinking that two hardwoods are completely different when, in fact, they are not." Belinda pointed at each floor sample on the counter. "I'm the tie breaker and I swear on her future grave that I don't see a blessed difference."
Jonas looked from one to the other. "This one." Jonas aimed his finger at the sample on the right.
"Do you actually see a difference or is that random?" Belinda said.
Jonas shrugged. "That one's a little redder. It has—I don't know how to say it. Red highlights? Can't you guys see it?"
Belinda, Kyle, Caleb, and Bennett took a closer look. Now that Jonas mentioned it, she could actually see more red hues in that sample. Maybe her mother wasn't nuts after all. Belinda's eyes went wide.
"No pink jacket!" she said, recalling Caleb's odd words to her after he found April's body. There was no pink jacket. The men in the room whipped their heads to see her. "I've been color blind. Literally!" They stared back at her, nonplussed. "The jacket that came down the runway wasn't pink at all. You were right, Caleb! It was fuchsia." She slammed her hand down on the table. "Fuchsia!"
Jonas rubbed his eyes. It had been a long week, but still. "Clearly, I'm missing a link because you're not making any sense."
"It's like these samples," Belinda said. "When you heard about my mom's finicky taste, you immediately asked if she was an interior designer. Why? Because someone in that profession would be discerning when it came to color. And who else would be discerning about color?"
"A fashion designer," Kyle said. Everyone gaped at him. "What? I know things."
"Caleb," Be
linda said, "you said to me after you found April that there was no pink jacket. I thought you were just in shock and babbling, but you knew what you were saying."
Caleb shrugged. "I honestly don't remember."
"Doesn't matter. I'm just glad you said it. You may not be a designer, but you worked with April long enough to learn about color, am I right?"
"Oh, yeah."
"And that when April set out to make a pink jacket, you knew it was a pink jacket, and not another shade, say, fuchsia."
"Of course." Caleb glanced at Jonas, but he shrugged.
"Just wait for it," Jonas said encouragingly.
Belinda stood up. "Even in shock, I'm convinced you knew what you were saying. No pink jacket went down that runway, and you knew something was wrong with that picture, because April designed a pink leather jacket. You'd seen it; you knew what color it was. And the one you sent off on the model was fuchsia and it didn't jive, but you had too much going on right then to put it together. Someone switched jackets before they went down the runway." Belinda turned excitedly to Jonas. "I know what the murder weapon was. April was smothered with the pink leather jacket!"
Belinda glanced at Bennett, who nodded in confirmation. "That makes sense, don't you think?" Bennett said to Jonas, who was mulling over her connection.
"Question is, where is it?" he said.
Belinda glanced at Bennett in bewilderment. Didn't Bennett say he was going to call Jonas about the suitcase and jacket? He shook his head almost imperceptibly, but he'd done enough damage control for her for one week.
"I think I know," she said to Jonas. "Brooke didn't mean to, but she indicated the suitcase I saw in Sawyer's room held something pretty important. Now I think I understand. And I went to Bennett's after...everything...and I saw a strange inn key card in his junk drawer in the kitchen when I was looking for something else." Belinda took a breath. "I wonder now if she left it there for Bennett to find. I–I should've said something earlier, I guess, but I wasn't thinking straight at the time."
She could see one side of Bennett's face scrunch up in irritation (he would chide her for this later), but she trained her eyes on Jonas. Kyle looked at each of them in turn, landing on Belinda last. "Okay," Jonas said finally. "Will someone tell me why key cards are suddenly playing such an essential role in our lives?"