Overkill (The Belinda & Bennett Mysteries, Book Four)

by Amy Saunders

  Belinda handed Bennett her phone with the first painting image on the screen. “These paintings,” she said. She dug through her purse for a notebook and pen, then got up to survey and jot things down.

  “What’s she doing?” Jonas said to Bennett.

  Bennett shrugged, going on with the story. “We saw Angie Dumpster dive, and she came up with these.” He scrolled to the next one in the slideshow. “They were inside a black plastic garbage bag. Angie threw them in her trunk and put them inside her studio two days ago.”

  Jonas winced when Bennett scrolled to the final painting, the nude. “Dude, I’m eating.”

  “Sorry.” Bennett’s lip curled up.

  Belinda listened from the living room, scratching items onto her list. “The signature is A.L.,” she said.

  “What are you doing?” Jonas glanced suspiciously at her notebook.

  “Helping you.” Belinda came back into the kitchen, opening up cabinets and drawers. “Anyway, that’s no one I’m familiar with. Victoria suggested it could be another student, but we have no way to verify that.”

  “A.L.,” Jonas repeated. “Those initials match one of our suspects.” He sighed. “There’s no proof anything was taken from the crime scene, and you can’t just come forward and officially tell me how you know this.”

  Belinda regretted not taking photos of Angie’s studio in general that night when they found the paintings. It would be awfully useful right about now. She guessed the suspect Jonas mentioned was Kevin Pratt’s roommate on the nightly news…Alec something.

  “What about the paint on Angie’s hands?” Belinda leaned around from her inventory of Jonas’ top cabinets. “Do you know where it might’ve come from yet?”

  “It’s being analyzed, but nothing was found in her studio that bears any resemblance. It came from outside.”

  “It came from the killer?”

  Jonas swallowed before answering. “Could be.”

  Belinda gazed back into the cabinet. She’d stuffed the shirt Shelby got paint on into a plastic bag for safekeeping, but she hadn’t had time to have a close look at it.

  “So…” Jonas waved his fork at them.

  “We’ll find something definitive,” Bennett said to finish.

  They let themselves out so Jonas could eat and go to bed before the next crisis. Once his excitement over dinner expired, he looked like he was about to fall asleep on his plate. “What were you doing back there?” Bennett said once they were in the car.

  “Jonas needs some domestic assistance,” she said, texting Colleen for a favor. Colleen had interviewed Alec and would no doubt remember his last name, and his address. “I was making a list so I won’t forget about it later.”

  “Are you about to become his house manager as well as personal shopper?”

  “Maybe.” She was also setting up to start hunting for the person who took those paintings. But she’d wait to tell Bennett till she had Alec’s info. Her dealings with Colleen were still under wraps to a degree. And, well, a girl needed to keep some things a mystery.

  When she got home, Belinda pulled out the paint-stained shirt, comparing the dried splotches to what she’d seen on Angie’s fingers. She flaked off a piece and it seemed thinner, less dense than what was on Angie. A different amount of paint? Or a different type?

  Belinda stuffed the shirt back in the bag, hiding it in her closet. She’d hold on to that until she knew more. Shelby had no reason to want to kill Angie, far as Belinda knew. So until she knew otherwise, she’d keep this to herself.

  Chapter 16

  By the next day, the ovens in the cupcake truck were fixed, so Bennett waited downstairs for Belinda to get ready to go pick it up. She bounded into the dining room with Aria and Poseidon on her heels and charging toward Bennett, who stared intently at the laptop screen.

  “What was she doing here?” Bennett pointed at a square on the screen, leaning back just in time for Poseidon to beat his sister to the empty lap. She meowed up at him in protest, then wandered back to Belinda.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Checking the security system to make sure the cameras are functioning. Why was that TV reporter here?” Colleen Maguire filled up one corner of the screen.

  “Colleen,” Belinda blurted before thinking it over. If she sounded concerned about a detail like that, Bennett would jump on it.

  “Colleen…” And it was coming. “Are you friends now?”

  Belinda snorted. “Hardly.”

  “Then why was she here, at your home?”

  “I didn’t invite her.” Belinda wandered into the kitchen, not wanting to stand still, and really not wanting him to ask more questions. Running never helped because he just followed her in there, folding his arms like when he got stubborn, or suspicious. The kittens stood at attention in the doorway like they expected a show.

  “That’s not the question. Why was she here? Especially if you didn’t invite her. Is she harassing you?”

  “No.” Again with answering too quickly. “I…we…” She faltered on how to explain her relationship with Colleen, which was frankly abstract even to her. Belinda slammed her hand on the counter. “Why can’t I evade your questions?”

  “Because I’m good.”

  Belinda glowered at him while his gray eyes lit up in response. Well, at least she was mad at him and not the other way around anymore. He didn’t even flinch when she told him she and Victoria invaded the crime scene. But a thought occurred to her about Colleen’s visit that could at least temporarily put off the real reason for their non-relationship. “She wants Jonas back, so she came to ask my advice.”

  “Your advice?”

  Belinda glared even harder.

  “Sorry.”

  “No, you’re not. But you’re still here, so I think I did something right.”

  Bennett pulled her in by her waist and kissed her forehead. “You did a lot of things right. So what did you tell her? You seemed keen on Jonas and Ardith getting together.”

  “I still am.” Belinda sighed. “I gave her some friendly advice, emphasizing it was still his choice. I don’t know how much she listened to. She’s pretty thickheaded. Or it’s all that bleach she uses on her hair. Sucking out the brain cells.”

  Bennett’s lip curled up. “I’m still confused why she’d come to you in the first place, though. If you’re not friends…”

  “I was just as shocked, honestly.”

  “But there must be a reason.”

  Belinda squirmed against her will. He was right up against her and would feel it. “I really don’t know it. For some weird reason, she seems to like me.”

  He let her go slowly and reached over the counter, plucking a freshly washed grape off the vine. “You know, things changed pretty suddenly between you two during the Elena Campos murder investigation. She just…left you be. Do you know why?”

  “More interesting people to stalk? I guess it was just a slow news time or something.”

  Bennett raised an eyebrow. “An embezzlement scandal, from a charity nonetheless, is a pretty hot topic.”

  “Yeah, but people lose interest and move on. It’s not like anything new has come of it.” Mrs. Sykes was still in the wind, and last she’d heard, her husband had permanently closed the doors of Posh Pets. “Besides, I had nothing to do with that and harassing me wasn’t changing that fact.”

  Bennett popped a grape into his mouth, taking his time chewing, letting her stand there and simmer, waiting for his next horrible question. Why couldn’t she have a dumb boyfriend?

  Wait, that’s right. She’d turned away all the stupid ones. Silly her.

  He finished eating his grapes, his eyes never leaving hers, and brushed his hands together. “I guess Ms. Maguire has too many murders to report these days to worry about you.”

  “Looks that way.” Was he letting her off the hook?

  “Do I need to get my violin for this story?”

  “You have a violin?”

  “No.”<
br />
  “Oh. Then why did you say–”

  “Why won’t you just tell me what happened with Colleen? You’re not paying her off for anything, are you?” His brows knitted together and he lowered his voice like the furniture might tattle on them.

  “No!” Belinda huffed. “I will tell you, someday, just not now.” Technically, Bennett still hadn’t given her full disclosure about Alexa Dupuis. All she knew came from Alexa, so how bad could Belinda feel for withholding this for the time being?

  “You’re sure Colleen’s not blackmailing you?”

  “I think I would know.”

  “That’s not–”

  “I know what you mean.” Belinda put her hand on his arm. “She’s not blackmailing me, I promise. Look, the short version of the story is that we made a deal and I lived up to my end and then some, and her end was to leave us alone. That’s all.” She wasn’t sure from his taut face if that information helped. “Okay?”

  “That depends on what you agreed to do.”

  That part wasn’t so bad. She could handle giving that away. “I got her the exclusive with Gary Wolman.” She shrugged a shoulder like it was no biggie. Of course, her memories betrayed her.

  “How did you manage that?”

  “Connections.”

  Bennett studied her, his eyes feeling around for the rest of the story. “So she promised to leave you alone…except she’s not leaving you alone…”

  “This was personal. Weird personal, but still just that. She just wants Jonas back.”

  Bennett grunted, and Belinda’s antennae perked up. So Bennett did know…she’d wondered. “Not gonna happen?” she ventured.

  He wiggled around like working out a kink in his back, leaning back on the counter in front of the sink. “Highly unlikely.”

  “That’s kind of what I figured.” Belinda chewed on her bottom lip. “I feel kinda bad for her, actually. I think she’s a little lonely.”

  “Probably her own fault.” He moved to her side again, wrapping his arms tight around her back. “Will I ever get the whole story?”

  “Here’s the deal: when you’re ready to tell all about Alexa, I will divulge the entire Colleen story.”

  Bennett nodded slowly in agreement. “So not today, then.”

  “Not today.”

  That resolved, they headed off out of town to pick up her truck, discussing less heavy topics like how he dug out his tennis rackets to practice before playing with her mom. Belinda groaned internally. It really wasn’t a much lighter topic for her than Colleen. But to make him happy, since he was perfectly fine with the whole thing, she agreed to practice with him once they got back.

  She decided life was a series of crises strung together with lighter moments. The painting and body on the beach was crisis number one. Crisis number two was finding Angie’s body. Crisis number three was swiping her card to pay the outrageous charges to fix the ovens in her truck and having it denied–twice.

  “Do you need me to cover you?” Bennett whispered to her in all seriousness, his eyes a darker charcoal when he was concerned.

  Belinda blinked in disbelief. She wanted to say, “Bennett, love of my life, you’re incredibly sweet and I love that you keep trying to protect me no matter how much it backfires, but you sold everything unnecessary and necessary in the last month so you could eat.”

  What she did say was, “I’ll just use my other card.” Her personal card, which might or might not have enough to cover it.

  Thankfully, it passed the test. Also thankfully, Bennett drove the truck for her because as distracted as she was, she probably would’ve sideswiped someone. As soon as they got back to the house, Belinda hopped online to see what was going on with her bank account. Bennett hovered around the other end of the table. “What are doing over there?” she said.

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to look.”

  Belinda batted her eyelashes at him over the top of the screen. “How very gentlemanlike of you. But I really don’t think it matt–” She stopped cold, her heart freezing.

  Bennett rushed across, peering over her shoulder.

  “That’s why it was denied,” she whispered, staring at a withdrawal that nearly depleted the account.

  “Did you have another expense you forgot about?”

  She shook her head.

  “Mia still has access to the account, right?” he said.

  “Yes, but we agreed she wouldn’t spend over a certain amount without my consent. And this is way, way over that.”

  Bennett pursed his lips, then spoke evenly and sans emotion–the opposite of how she felt. “Then you need to call her and find out what this was for. Now.”

  Belinda nodded, taking a moment to compose herself before calling. It went to voicemail and she left a fast-paced, panicked sounding message as her heart rate sped up while she talked. Bennett took her hand, stroking it with his thumb. “It’s probably just a misunderstanding, or even a banking error.”

  “You’re right. No need to panic.” She gave him a strained smile, and kept the panicking to herself.

  Chapter 17

  With a blessed few minutes of peace to sit and drink his coffee in his apartment the next morning before returning to the murder investigation, the knock on Jonas’ door was both unwanted and disturbing. Especially the intensity of it. He trudged the few feet to the door, putting one eye to the peephole. He expected a colleague, or even Bennett or Belinda, but not her.

  Colleen was there. Colleen, whom he still hadn’t decided if he wanted to talk to at all, now stood on his doorstep and rapped on the door in rapid succession again.

  Jonas massaged his forehead and sucked in a big breath before opening the door. If she was expecting enthusiasm, she was not going to get it. Especially at that time of day. Not when he had not one now, but two, potentially related murders on his hands. “Colleen, this is not–”

  “I know.” She pushed past him into his apartment, but Jonas stayed put with the door open. “But you won’t call back and I have something I have to say.”

  Jonas leaned against the door casually, but internally braced himself for what was coming next. He realized she looked a little different, but he couldn’t pin down why. Maybe it was just because she’d barged in on him at the crack of dawn.

  “I’ve thought about this a lot, and after talking to Belinda–”

  “You talked to Belinda about this?”

  “Doesn’t matter. The point is I’ve thought about us and some things she said and I’ve made up my mind. I want a second chance.”

  Jonas stood up straight. Now he was getting angry. “So you think you can come here and say that and I’ll just say yes? Like that. After everything…?” He couldn’t even stand to finish his thought. She knew what she’d done.

  “No…I don’t. I just want you to know that I want this and I’m willing to do what’s necessary.” Colleen smiled shyly. “It’s your choice, I know that. I just wanted you to know I’m not giving up.” She glanced around his living room quickly, taking a deep breath. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to your coffee. You’ve got a lot on your plate right now.”

  As quickly as she’d swept in, Colleen was back on the threshold. “Good-bye, Jonas.” She smiled and left.

  Jonas leaned around the door, watching her clomp downstairs, wondering if he was dreaming. That was quite possibly the least offensive interaction with her since they first met and he was dazed by what just transpired. Colleen flirted with him plenty, mostly to try and get information about cases, but she’d never seemed interested in getting back together. For now, he was going to dismiss that and enjoy the rest of his coffee.

  His next stop after coffee was Shelby Lachappelle’s house. She had left some urgent messages on Angie Chen’s cell phone over the last couple days, including one the morning of Angie’s murder. Shelby had also been in a class at the art museum where Angie assisted. So two definitive connections equaled a strong reason to pay Shelby a visit.

  Jonas drov
e through the front gate of the Lachappelle property, climbing and twisting up to the house crowning a hill inside a protected inlet. He had trouble imagining the monstrosity before him as simply “home,” but now that he knew Belinda, he viewed the owners more as people and less as aliens.

  He waited in their open foyer, a chandelier sparkling above his head in the vaulted ceiling, and migrated to the painting on a nearby wall above a half-moon table. It was a scene of what he thought was Central Park in New York City, a small picture compared to the size of the room. He scanned for a signature, and found D. Andersen in the bottom corner.

  The mother and daughter came down the curved staircase, and Jonas did a double take. Except for the difference in age, they looked like the same person. Dinah extended a hand, then placed her arm protectively around her daughter. Jonas took note of Shelby’s hair color. They’d found hair of a similar shade on Angie’s body.

  Jonas pointed back at the painting on the wall. “Are you an artist?” he asked Dinah.

  “Used to be. That’s from my college days. I lost touch with it after I had my oldest son. In any case, I was never as good as Shelby.” She turned in admiration to her daughter.

  Shelby locked her eyes on the floor.

  “So, what’s this about, Detective?” Dinah said.

  “I understand Shelby has some connection to Angie Chen.” He paused, watching their reactions. Shelby’s eyes darted side-to-side toward the floor, and Dinah’s widened in mild surprise.

  “What difference does that make?” Dinah said.

  “Angie was found murdered yesterday.”

  Dinah gasped, and Shelby wrapped her arms around her stomach, hugging her body, but her eyes never left the floor, so she was tough to gauge.

  Jonas focused on Shelby. “You left Angie a series of urgent text messages the day before yesterday and yesterday morning that she never responded to. Want to tell me what you needed to talk to her about?”

  Shelby swallowed, and talked to the black and white tiles. “I had an art-related question.”

  “You sounded upset.” The messages had all been vague, but with a note of frustration behind them.