by Amy Saunders
Belinda smiled in relief. He believed her. Or was just choosing to ignore that she lied.
"Not bad, Fawn Eyes," Jonas said proudly. Bennett glared at him. "What? It's an appropriate nickname."
Belinda looked from one to the other, hands on hips. "Okay, you two. What is that all about? That's the second time someone connected to you," she poked Bennett on the arm, "has called me Fawn Eyes."
Jonas grinned. "Shall you tell her, or shall I?"
Bennett wanted to groan. Either way was not a good option, but Jonas telling her was much worse. "It was just...it was what I called you before I knew your name."
Belinda's eyes twinkled in amusement. "You nicknamed me? At Stellan's party, you mean?"
"It was before we met, when I–" Bennett stopped himself.
"When you what?" Belinda most certainly had fawn eyes at that moment. Brown orbs with gold flecks filled with innocence.
And maybe mischief.
On closer inspection, definitely mischief. She was going to make him say it, wasn't she? Oh, yes. And with Jonas right in the thick of it, Bennett stood no chance of wriggling away.
"When I...saw you on camera," Bennett mumbled.
Belinda's twinkle grew exponentially. "So you were stalking me."
"I was not stalking you." He stood up straighter, determined to defend himself. "Nothing was happening and..." Bennett watched Belinda tilt her head, enjoying this far too much, while Jonas just stood there and let it happen. Bennett sighed. He was not winning this time. "I was bored and curious what you were doing in the hallway."
"So you stalked me."
Bennett scowled. "I did not stalk you." Belinda laughed.
"Like I said, sugar," Jonas said, leaning against the counter, "you have your work cut out for you."
"In more ways than one," she said. Someone needed to pay Sawyer another visit. The suitcase with the jacket was in his possession originally.
Bennett smiled evilly. Maybe he picked up on her meaning.
"See," Jonas said, "this little relationship works out. You help me solve homicides; and I help you prevent domestic disputes."
Kyle looked at the samples again. "I still don't see it, but whatever keeps them from coming back early."
~ * ~
Belinda managed to buy Bennett time to dash home and replant the key card in his junk drawer before Jonas left the carriage house. Either that or Jonas was giving Bennett a head start to do so. She knew Jonas was just as difficult to fool as Bennett, and it was unlikely he'd bought her story. But he could also be as hard to read, so she wasn't sure.
She vacuumed up glass while Kyle and Jonas secured tarp around the big hole in the almost floor-to-ceiling window near the kitchen. The rest of the police left. One of the officers, whom she was sure she'd seen repeatedly since she returned home, just shook his head as he ducked into the car. Probably thought she was a nutjob, but that was life.
After they finished with the window-tarping, Jonas left for Bennett's. He'd had plenty of time to deal with things, so Belinda felt secure waving Jonas off. Kyle let Caleb take the couch (risky for Caleb, but she wasn't going to argue at that time of night), and set up a comforter and pillows on the floor for himself with the boy-kitten curling right up next to him. It was cute, their little bromance.
The next morning, Bennett called to invite her to visit Sawyer with him. Not about to miss that, she hopped into his SUV shortly after.
"You shouldn't have mentioned the key card to Jonas." And this was the part where Bennett yelled at her.
"It's fine," she said, wiping off her sunglasses with the hem of her shirt. "He believed me."
Bennett cocked his head in her direction, his eyes flicking her way briefly as if to say, Seriously?
She huffed, checking her mascara in the mirror. She'd had to rush and wanted to make sure no specks or clumps escaped elimination. "Why did I go to all this trouble to make you like me again?"
"You didn't go to any trouble to make me like you. In fact, you tried very hard to get the opposite reaction."
Belinda watched as they curled around her favorite beach. Soon enough she'd be neck deep in those waves. With Bennett. But right this second, she was taking exception to that remark. "And whose fault is that?"
"Yours." Bennett glanced at her, his eyes glittering.
Belinda suppressed a smile, sticking her nose in the air in indignation instead. But she couldn't help but be happy they were back to the status quo.
Belinda knocked on Sawyer's hotel room door. It was her idea to approach him alone first and then Bennett could pop out of hiding. Bennett liked the sounds of that immensely and waited just a few feet down the hallway. Sawyer finally opened up the door, his shirt sleeves rolled up. Behind him, Belinda could see a suitcase on top of the bed and it looked like he was in the process of throwing things into it.
"What are you doing here?" he said sharply. And the charming facade had disappeared again. Apparently, she had a knack for bringing his less appealing side out of him.
Belinda ignored his brusque greeting. "Are you allowed to leave town now?" she said, standing on her toes to see over his shoulder.
"That's none of your business."
Belinda slanted her eyes. "If you're skipping town, I'll make it my business." Belinda pulled out her cell phone, acting like she was about to call Jonas, which she could do and would do if necessary.
That was enough to calm Sawyer down and convince him to start behaving again. In a heartbeat, his charming side miraculously resurfaced. He laughed nervously, running a hand through his hair. "You have a way of catching me at my worst."
"Am I catching you at your worst, or am I just catching you with your mask off?"
He smiled, swinging the door open wide. "You always convince me to change my mood." He leaned against the door, his lithe frame stretched out. "Would you like to come in, Ms. Kittridge?"
"We'd love to," Bennett said, appearing from around the door frame. Belinda could see a spark in his eyes and knew he was enjoying himself.
All the charisma drained from Sawyer's being and he took a defensive stance in front of the opening. "If you think you're going to come in here and choke me again–"
Belinda pulled a face. "We're here to talk, Sawyer. Not beat you up. Relax." Belinda charged ahead into the room, surveying Sawyer's suitcase.
Bennett passed Sawyer sideways, making sure he conveyed what would happen if Sawyer tried anything. Sawyer swallowed. Apparently, he got the message.
Bennett looked around, picking up a loose button on the dresser top.
"Am I missing something?" Sawyer said, regaining some of his confidence. "Are you police?"
Belinda tossed clothes onto the bed from his suitcase while Bennett opened up each dresser drawer. "No more than you are a fashion designer," Bennett said flatly.
Sawyer's eyes grew dark.
"Can you tell the difference between pink and fuchsia?" Belinda said.
"Of course I can!"
Bennett crossed his arms. "You just can't sew, let's say, a fuchsia leather jacket, without someone else's help."
Panic flitted through Sawyer's eyes. "How...how do you know that?"
"So it's true?" Belinda said, stepping toward him. "You really can't sew?"
Sawyer closed his eyes, muttering something under his breath. "I can't believe April told someone." He shook his head. "We had a very tight arrangement, and she was always someone I could trust." His voice wavered and he put his hand over his mouth, breathing in and out slowly.
"What was your arrangement exactly?" Belinda glanced at Bennett. "I'm taking it April did your sewing, but what did you do for her?"
Sawyer kept his head down but peered sideways at Belinda. "I designed the collection that you saw go down the runway. That's what I did."
Bennett sat on the corner of the dresser. "Is that why you and April were going into business together? To help each other out?"
"We had a symbiotic relationship," Sawyer said. "We worked
well together, and we were both happy about the business plans. We would have been a dream team. A real force to be reckoned with in the fashion world."
"So why are you in such a hurry to leave Portside if you had such a perfect relationship with April?" Belinda examined the suitcase on the bed. It was similar to the one they found holding the pink jacket.
"I needed April, alright? But I'm not...I'm not perfect." Sawyer clasped his hands. "I had some help to hush up my...problem...in exchange for some advice on relieving someone's business of some of its profits."
"Would that someone be Mrs. Sykes?" Belinda said, pulling up a shot on her phone of a page of the notebook with Sawyer's name and some numbers next to it.
Sawyer stared at it a second, then looked away, nodding reluctantly.
"Did you know she took that advice to the next level," Belinda said, "and was embezzling from the very show you contributed to?"
Sawyer's eyes tightened. "I...I did."
"The fight on the path that day?" Belinda glanced at the bed again. "It was about the fundraiser embezzling?"
"I didn't need to know about that," he said after contemplating his words. "She thought someone knew. Her husband, probably, but he wasn't about to say anything. Felicia thought another party was suspicious. Stealing from your own business is one thing, especially since it's not a huge company. But the fundraiser would draw attention. She was flipping out, but I couldn't help her. And I never would have done something that risky personally."
Someone, meaning Brooke, knew about the fundraiser embezzling. That was another reason Mrs. Sykes would want to kill her. She already knew Brooke had peeked at their financial records, even if she didn't know why, so maybe she guessed Brooke knew about the fundraiser.
"She's gone, you know," Belinda said. "Mrs. Sykes. Disappeared after Brooke was killed."
Sawyer didn't seem fazed.
"Know anything about that?" Bennett said.
Belinda looked at Sawyer, whose eyes were heavy. He unclasped and clasped his hands. "Not specifically. I preferred not to know the details. But she had the money stowed away somewhere. I'm sure she's made off with it for good."
Yet more delightful news. Belinda just couldn't get enough of it. "There was another suitcase in here before. It held a pink leather jacket, which we think belonged to April." And was likely the murder weapon, though they were waiting on confirmation.
Sawyer swallowed.
"What were you doing with it?" Bennett said.
Sawyer squeezed his hands together. "Riley found the jacket in her backpack after the show was over. She was going by Brooke here, but that's another topic." He inhaled loudly. "Anyway, she knew someone was trying to set her up for the murder and asked me to hold onto the jacket temporarily while she figured out what to do. I did, but then everything was crazy and I...I broke down and told Mrs. Sykes about it. Felicia came here to get rid of it after my allergic reaction at the pool party, but she got waylaid by you." He glanced at Belinda. "Then when she came back it was gone, and then she had to hide. I never saw the suitcase again."
Bennett stared intently at Sawyer. "Is the pink jacket your design?"
Sawyer stared at his hands and Belinda took a seat next to him on a corner of the bed.
"No," he said quietly.
"Then whose design is it?" Belinda said.
Sawyer didn't respond.
"Someone tried to kill you," Belinda said fervently. "And that same person probably killed Brooke. Did you know that she was actually an aspiring journalist? Of the investigative variety?"
To Belinda's total surprise, Sawyer nodded somberly.
"So you're aware that she may have flashed some of your dirty laundry?" Bennett stared down at him.
Sawyer's eyes snapped awake. "I don't care if she did." That hatefulness Belinda had seen once at the gallery seeped out of his irises like ink bleeding off a page. "I–" Sawyer stopped and took a deep breath. "I care—cared—about Brooke very much." His voice broke.
It was probably the most honest and basic thing she'd heard him say. "Then help us!"
Sawyer's lips pinched together, but then they parted and he looked at her without any veneer or charm—or anger. He was just himself. "Kori. Kori designed it."
Belinda's eyes widened.
"So you designed and April sewed, huh?" Bennett folded his arms.
"I told you I wasn't perfect."
"Why?" Belinda said.
"I was strung out getting April's collection and mine ready for the show."
"And you gave it to April...as yours?"
Sawyer nodded. And then laughed, but it sounded sad. "I met Kori not that long ago at some event, and she invited me over to see her studio." He wagged his eyebrows to show that wasn't the only reason. So Kori wasn't immune to Sawyer's charm either. "Some sketches were just sitting out and I was admiring some of her designs. Then she left the room for something and I...I don't know. I haven't always been completely honest and this idea just flitted through my head. It would be so much easier if I didn't have to come up with everything on my own. So I snapped pictures of a few of my favorites before she came back. And that was that."
"Then you just passed them onto April as your own?" Belinda shook her head. "You could have used the stolen pieces for your own collection, you know. April was trying to get away from that."
Sawyer closed his eyes. "I know. I didn't say I'm happy I did it. Especially...especially now."
"All of this for clothes," Bennett said. Sawyer averted his eyes, his jaw tightening and then releasing again.
"One more thing," Belinda said. "Why did you flirt with me so persistently? Were you just maintaining your image?"
Sawyer dared a peek at Bennett, who glowered back. "That was for Riley," Sawyer said. "She liked to keep a low profile for her work, and that's hard to do around me. So we just kept our relationship to ourselves, and to keep people's noses out of it, I flirted a lot."
So it was a diversion of sorts.
"That's it?" Belinda stood back up. "Because you went well out of your way this time. Kissing me and dropping key cards and notes in my pocket.... A little flirting at the show and party would have been sufficient I think."
"I don't know about any key card or note," Sawyer said. "But I did go a little over the top with you once I realized Brooke was jealous. I thought..." He stared off beyond both of them. "I thought if she got jealous enough, she'd agree to quit pretending and we could just be together like a normal couple. I was tired of the charade."
That made two of them. If he told the truth, it also meant she still didn't know who left the note and key card in her pocket at the cocktail party. Maybe she never would.
They told Sawyer to stay put, and walked toward the lobby. "Total. Insanity," she said. "Brooke is a wannabe journalist, who holds the dirt on several people involved in this show, and now Sawyer had the possible murder weapon all that time." She gripped Bennett's arm as they walked. "Do you think that's what the Carriage House Assaulter wanted? That he thought I had the pink jacket?"
Bennett scratched his head. "That's a thought. But I'd say it's much more likely she knew Brooke was a journalist, or found out at some point, and is worried all her secrets are revealed on that flash drive."
"So let's use it."
Bennett steered Belinda out of the way of a server swooping out of the inn's kitchen. She'd had quite enough excitement in that place already. Bennett arched an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"
"We have Sawyer in the palm of our hand. Who's to say he doesn't have the drive and will use it to try to blackmail whoever's interested?"
A grin spread on Bennett's face. "Baiting. Jonas will like that."
Belinda wanted to skip down the hill beside Bennett back to their cars. Not that she could picture Bennett skipping anywhere, but she could skip and he could just walk. Right that second, Belinda would have described his walking as more of a swagger. Bennett always walked with confidence, but at that moment, he definitely had a lilt
to his step.
"You're still relishing the news that Sawyer can't sew, aren't you?" Based on his reaction earlier, Belinda guessed that had given him renewed confidence.
Bennett smirked. "I knew there was something wrong with that guy."
"It makes sense in hindsight," Belinda said thoughtfully. "When I bumped into Sawyer at the show backstage, he was just kind of hanging around, acting like he didn't have a care in the world. It was a huge contrast to the other designers who were frantically making last minute alterations to their looks. I was confused by that at the time, but if he doesn't know how to sew, I understand why now. I guess he had to leave all of that to his assistants."
Belinda took several micro steps to move in front of Bennett as they passed another pedestrian. Bennett got in step with her again, drawing her close. "So am I invited to your grand opening tomorrow?"
Belinda's stomach fluttered. She had her permits, her dance steps down, and her outfit. What she was missing at that moment was her nerve. Her fight or flight instinct was telling her to run home and duck under the bed with the kittens until it was all over.
Bennett kissed the top of her head. "You'll do fine. You're practiced for the dance, right? I think you're as ready as you're going to be without diving in at this point."
"Wow. That's so encouraging." Belinda laughed. "In other words, we're not ready at all!"
"Maybe not. But you'll handle it, just like you do everything else. The hole in the wall for instance. Handled."
Belinda suppressed a little smile. She was proud of herself for how that turned out. She discussed the situation with the contractor and interior designer, and they presented some breakfast nook concepts. Belinda then presented the entire idea to her parents via video conference, and after they (meaning her mother—theatrical all the way) got over the initial shock, her parents (meaning her mother) were really excited about the new addition and gave their okay. And they seemed impressed with how Belinda handled it all and her father acknowledged that's why they asked her to return.