Chapter 2

 

 

Once the crowd settled backstage as everyone hustled to finish before showtime, Belinda stood on her toes to try and locate an old schoolmate. The show featured up and coming designers, including an old friend Belinda recommended.

Once high school ended and Kori moved on to fashion design school in New York while Belinda's family picked up roots temporarily after the Mark Nichols tragedy, they simply lost touch. But Belinda had been privileged to know-her-when and was excited to see her.

After apologizing for the umpteenth time trying to not trip her way there, Belinda and Kori squealed and hugged and hopped up and down. They went back and forth exchanging compliments and admiring each other's clothes and how good they both still looked.

"So here we are," Kori said, hands on hips, bracelets jangling as they slid down her arm. "Right back where we started."

Belinda made an exaggerated appraisal of their surroundings. "Really? We started out backstage at a big runway event? Where did they expect us to go from there?"

Kori laughed while helping a model position an intricate top around her torso. "I was so excited when I heard you'd be here." She smiled. "I knew you'd end up doing something fun. You just can't resist a good time."

Belinda was mesmerized as Kori deftly made a last minute alteration to a sequined halter top. "Is it always like this right before a show?"

"More or less," she said with her teeth clenched over the thread to break it. Kori looked up at Belinda from her bent over position. "Everyone always claims they need a sabbatical by the time it's over." She harrumphed. "But I don't. Doing a show always wires me up to create."

Caleb crashed into their zone, eyes frenzied and sweat beads forming on his forehead. "Have either of you seen April?" His mouth smacked together like he could use some water.

Kori didn't even visually acknowledge him, but kept on with her final alterations. "The only thing that I've seen, hon, are boobs and butts."

"She's still gone and it's almost time!" Caleb's breathing came in shallow gasps.

Kori rolled her eyes.

"I'll help you search," Belinda said quickly. Caleb adjusted his glasses, looking a little more relaxed. "And I'll get reinforcements." She took his arm, leading him away. "We'll take care of this." She patted his shoulder, hovering a little above his head in her heels.

She called Bennett to ask for help in the search for April Arteau and had Caleb go question other people while Belinda got on the phone with Brooke and had her scope the outside. Belinda took a detailed scenic tour of the backstage.

Consumed with finding April, Belinda was unaware of the stampede coming up behind her until the corner of a cardboard box cover stabbed her in the back of the arm. She yelped, glaring at her assailant, who breezed past her.

"Sorry!" the woman said, not even turning her head. Belinda rubbed the sore spot and scrunched up her nose. She was fleshy back there, but still.

"Stupid assistants," a man said next to her, shaking his head. Belinda turned to meet the Caribbean blue eyes of Sawyer Gallen. Another designer she'd only met briefly. "None of us pay enough attention this close to the start of the show." He smiled. "You seem like you're looking for something...or someone. Can I help?"

"Only if you know where one April Arteau have got to."

Sawyer's sculpted brows arched even more than they did naturally and he leaned in conspiratorially. "How intriguing."

Not really. "I don't mean to be rude, but we are frighteningly close to showtime."

Sawyer saluted, flashing a smile, and she watched him saunter away in his gray pants and vest, wondering why he wasn't in the same mental state as the rest of the designers and their assistants. But with minutes ticking by, Belinda didn't have time to worry about it.

After a futile search, she reconvened at April's station to find Caleb huddled in conference with Brooke.

"I told you, I don't–" Caleb glanced up, nudging Brooke in the arm.

Before Belinda could even ask, Brooke shook her head. "April's still MIA."

Belinda nodded, sucking in shallow breaths. This was all a little more stress than she wanted.

Caleb adjusted his glasses. "What do we do?"

Belinda sighed, checking her phone. Mrs. Sykes was nowhere to be seen or heard from. Guess the executive decision was all on Belinda. "We'll adjust the line up and put April last. Just be ready to go. Whether she gets back in time or not." She checked their worried faces, and just hoped April showed up.

Belinda zigzagged from station to station to tell everyone their new places in the line up, leaving a lot of gaping mouths and half-uttered curses in her wake. Finishing that ordeal, she ushered the first line of models toward the stage entrance, the designer still clutching the hem of a skirt almost up until she walked on stage.

One by one, designers got checked off the list until they reached the last person. April Arteau. Belinda hit a feather on the floor and hydroplaned into her station. "You're next!" She scanned the faces, only finding Caleb. "No April?" She was breathing out, but couldn't breathe in.

Caleb shook his head, rolling the life out of one of the dresses.

"Are you ready to go?" Belinda squeaked.

He shook his head more fervently.

"Too late. Come on!" Belinda waved them all forward, including the poor girl trying to get around Caleb and his lint roller.

Belinda patted Caleb's back when the last model strutted down the runway, telling him to breathe, then having to push him on stage in place of April for the final walk. They came back, and Caleb disappeared, probably to throw up or sob or pass out. That's what Belinda would want to do after that.

Mrs. Sykes gave a short speech after a final applause for the designers, thanking various people and supporters and mentioning the whole reason why they were there to begin with—to raise money for autism research and awareness. It seemed like a random cause for Mrs. Sykes to take up, but it did bring in a lot of support from some wealthy community leaders.

Belinda stood off to the side of the stage, reviewing her notes for her speech and silently repeating them, trying to keep from shaking as her moment approached. Finally, she realized Mrs. Sykes was holding out her arm in her direction and she snapped to, walking on stage without really feeling her legs move.

Mrs. Sykes beamed at her and took a step back as she approached the mic, daring to look out at the faces watching her. Victoria waved from the front, putting her a little more at ease though Belinda still felt sick.

She took a deep breath and started talking, not really hearing the words she said. As she tried to focus on the other half of the stage, and not just Victoria or her notes as she thanked a slew of people who helped with the fundraiser, she saw several sets of eyes shift to the other side of the stage. Belinda stopped mid-word as she followed their eyes to the person who had staggered onto the opposite end of the platform.

Belinda looked across the stage at Caleb, who held out his hands toward her like a child expecting his mama to pick him up. She put her hand over the mic and leaned in his direction. "What's wrong?"

"I found April," he choked out, then swayed on his legs and collapsed. Belinda's notes parachuted out of her hands, the blood rushing to her head drowning out the outbursts of the audience.

"Are you hurt?" She knelt next to him and cradled Caleb's head. She scanned him for signs of injury, but he'd blacked out, his eyelids fluttering.

She thought about dragging him backstage, but to her relief, Bennett materialized and lifted Caleb single-handedly, practically throwing the assistant over his shoulder with one arm. He carried him backstage where hundreds of people weren't gaping at them.

They rounded a corner, Belinda sticking to Bennett's back, and he placed Caleb on the floor. Belinda ripped a jacket off a model and tucked it under Caleb's head. She met Bennett's eyes as he bent down next to her. Bruno created a barricade around them.

"What happened?" Belinda whispered, her stomach knotting while she waited for his answer.

Bennett placed his mouth by her ear. "I think Caleb found your missing designer." He sighed. "She's dead. And I don't think it's from natural causes. The police are en route."

Belinda sucked in a breath. April was dead?

Caleb started to come to, his eyes gazing out listlessly.

"Are you okay?" Bennett said to Belinda. "I need to go meet the police."

Belinda nodded, meeting his gaze to reassure him. He kissed her forehead and left, leaving Bruno with orders not to let anyone bother them. Belinda stroked Caleb's hair, trying to calm her own nerves as well.

Caleb's mouth moved and his words barely reached Belinda's ears. She bent toward his mouth to hear him. "There's no pink jacket," he said.

That was an odd first thing to say after passing out. But maybe it was the stress from earlier combined with finding his boss dead. "It's okay, Caleb."

"Riley?"

"No, Caleb. It's Belinda." She peeked behind her. Where was Bennett?

Caleb lifted his head as much as possible, gripping Belinda's hand with more strength than she expected. "I need to talk to Riley."

"Okay, Caleb. We'll see if we can get him..." Bennett reappeared with paramedics and police, drowning her out.

Belinda stuck with Caleb, now wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the edge of the ambulance. He was more mobile, but just as dazed and kept repeating that he needed to talk to Riley, but then seemed confused when she asked who Riley was. She wondered if he knew what he was saying, or if he was just in shock.

Once Caleb was on his way to the hospital, Belinda reluctantly joined the designers and others herded onto the lawn to clear the backstage. The mood was solemn and quiet. Quite the contrast to earlier.

Detective Jonas Parker, Belinda's friend, and his uniformed associates rounded up the audience on one side of the runway while all the backstage visitors were guided to the opposite side. It felt strange being divided up like that, but it probably made things easier and more organized for the police. Belinda strained to see Victoria, but the crowd was too thick and Victoria too short.

"So what happened to her?" Kori whispered. Earlier, a whisper might as well have been mouthing the words, but now Belinda could hear her clearly.

"I don't know," she said. "But now...now I do know why we couldn't find her."

Kori arched an eyebrow. "Caleb found her. And I thought he would have a nervous breakdown before."

Belinda shot her a castigating look. "I think you would too if you found someone you knew dead."

"I guess." Kori didn't look convinced.

"I can't believe nobody found her sooner with all of these people lingering around."

Kori shrugged. "You saw how distracted everyone was before the show."

Sawyer made eye contact with Belinda over people's heads and fought his way over. "I see you've met Sawyer," Kori said dryly. Kori moved closer so she could direct her words to Belinda without everyone else hearing her. "This is the part where I tell you to run. Fast. Far. And forever."

Kori backed away just in time for Sawyer to approach from Belinda's side.

Sawyer's eyes looked like two blue flames now. He had helped keep the rest of the herd quiet and orderly backstage until the police arrived. After watching Sawyer react as the news spread of April's death, Belinda felt certain they were close on some level, but other than his anger, he wasn't letting it show.

"Are you okay?" he said. "I saw you looking after Caleb."

"Don't worry about me." Belinda wrung her hands. Once she had a moment to think, her stomach turned to knots. But she wasn't about to divulge that to him.

Sawyer squeezed in closer, scrutinizing her from the toes up. As if she didn't feel tense already. Finishing with the top of her head, he nodded. "So, are you okay?"

Belinda blinked. Was it that obvious?

She felt isolated standing there with two people she didn't know that well. She knew Kori, of course, but only casually at this point. What she wanted was someone she was truly familiar with. The sight of Bennett coming down the backstage stairs behind Jonas lifted her spirits. She followed his head until they both stopped in front of one of the guarding officers. The officer turned toward their group.

"Belinda Kittridge?" he yelled. Belinda raised her hand eagerly, and grabbing Kori's arm led her, and Sawyer unintentionally, toward the edge of the group.

Jonas smiled. Belinda was a refreshing sight in all this madness. Bennett came to the fore, his eyes strained with worry and relief at the same moment. Until Sawyer stepped out next to Belinda. Even with the tight quarters, he was still way too close to her for Bennett's taste.

But she didn't even notice Sawyer. The anxiety she'd held down the past hour or so bubbled up with her relief at seeing the two of them, and Belinda threw her arms around Bennett's neck. She squeezed him quickly and let go, but Bennett's hand lingered on her waist so she wouldn't drift out of his reach. Sawyer didn't appear the least bit fazed, but Kori's eyes informed her that she would have to tell all as soon as they were alone. Then Kori looked Jonas over, batting her eyes. Jonas suppressed a smile as she leaned into one hip, showing off her curves.

Bennett guided Belinda toward the security tent with his hand still on the small of her back, Jonas taking the lead.

"Excuse me! Ms. Kittridge!" A youngish woman ran toward them with a microphone in hand and a cameraman on her heels. Literally. She came to a halt right in front of them and caught her breath, straightening out her suit jacket, and plastered on a big smile.

Belinda recognized her from the nightly news and tried to smile back, though she really just wanted to get out of there.

"As one of the organizers of this event," the reporter went on without missing a beat, "would you answer a few questions? You were on stage when it happened, right?"

Belinda glanced at Jonas for interference, but he shrugged. Pfft. Some help, Detective. She drew herself up and smiled. "Sure."

"Wonderful!"

Belinda wrinkled her nose at her perkiness. Hardly.

Just as the camera started rolling, Jonas and Bennett pulled away in tandem, abandoning her. She wanted to protest, but it was too late. She patted down the skirt of her dress, doing a discreet boob check to make sure she wasn't giving a free show, and moistened her lips.

"You were on stage when the young man who found the body wandered out," the reporter said. "Would you tell us what happened?"

Belinda straightened her back and wrapped her hands in front of her, ignoring the ache in the balls of her feet. "I was giving a speech. Well, not really a speech exactly. Just saying some words to everyone who attended...the fundraiser. That's what we're doing here..." Bennett cleared his throat as he and Jonas exchanged looks over her head. Belinda clasped her hands, taking that as her cue that she needed to stop.

The reporter smiled and nodded encouragingly.

"Anyway," Belinda said, "I realized that everyone in the audience was looking to my...to my right, so I looked to see what was going on. And then I saw Caleb. Is it all right if I say Caleb? Well, in any case, I saw him and he looked terrified and shocked and...and desperate."

Jonas raised his eyebrows at Bennett.

"Then he said he found April," Belinda continued, feeling her throat tighten. "And then I found out what happened." Belinda shrugged. She didn't want to go on from there. Let them use their imaginations.

"Did you know the victim?" The reporter held the mic out to her.

"Oh, I just met her today." Belinda went from clasping her hands to entwining her fingers, thinking that made her look less tense. "She seemed very nice. Very talented."

"Well, thank you for taking time to talk with us, Ms. Kittridge." The reporter tucked the mic under her arm and extended a hand. Belinda shook it with much more enthusiasm now that her part was done.

"No problem." Belinda swayed back and forth. "You should come by the wharf Saturday for a free cupcake." She wasn't sure why she was saying that now, of all times, but it came out before she could censor herself.

The reporter tilted her head. She might be a skinny thing with Female Reporter Hair, but she was still a woman.

"I'm opening a new cupcake shop," Belinda said by way of explanation, "of the mobile truck variety this Saturday."

The reporter's eyes widened. "Really? Is it being covered?"

"Covered?"

"On the news? Have you already spoken to someone?"

"No, no. I haven't." Belinda tried to act nonchalant like she simply hadn't found the time. Maybe true, but she simply hadn't thought of it either. The newspaper was covering it, and a regional magazine in the next month or so. But she'd never considered the news.

The reporter smiled. "Perfect." She fished in a pocket and slipped Belinda a card. "Call me tomorrow. I want to know all about this."

Belinda read the card while the reporter flashed a bright smile at Jonas, who looked back at her as if to say, "You wish." Undeterred, she and the cameraman bounced off to interview more people who had nothing particularly interesting to say on the matter.

"Well, you may be a rambling interviewee," Bennett said, taking her arm, "but you're a rambling interviewee with cupcakes."

Belinda stuck out her tongue—at both of them. "Thanks for the help, you two."

"We helped." Jonas walked in front of them in the direction of the security tent. "We let you know when you started rambling."

Belinda stuck her tongue out at the back of his head.

She leaned heavily on Bennett, really feeling the desperation in her feet. "Do you smell donuts?" she said into Bennett's ear. "I smell donuts."

"Would you like one?"

Belinda rested her chin on his shoulder. "Yes, please."

Bennett smiled. "I'll see what I can do."

Belinda squeezed him tighter.

They crowded into the security tent where Finnegan scanned through camera footage, only offering a brief glance in the way of acknowledgement when they ducked under the flap. Bennett said he had a quick errand and he'd join them again.

Belinda waved to Finnegan and in return he gave her a diagonal smile. He was sort of goofy looking, but his eyes twinkled when he smiled, and Belinda decided this time around that she would probably like him.

"What...what happened?" Belinda asked Jonas tentatively. She didn't want to sound eager, but she did want information. This show was partly her responsibility after all. "Bennett indicated this wasn't just some accident or a health problem or something."

Jonas' mouth turned down, his eyes simultaneously rolling up to the ceiling. "It's a homicide." Belinda nodded slowly, but before she could ask how it happened like a nosy reporter, Jonas went on. "I have to say, I was relieved that you're involved with the show. Please tell me you know something."

Reprimanding herself for feeling disappointed he wouldn't offer the gritty details, Belinda leaned on one leg. She was alternating to relieve one foot at a time. "Well, there was some pre-show chaos."

Jonas propped one side of his body on the desk and motioned for her to divulge. Belinda gratefully accepted the fold up chair he waved her toward. She was getting ready to just kick off the heels she had on and go barefoot.

"Things were great up until five minutes before the show started," she said. "Mr. Sykes showed up and suddenly my well-oiled machine got all gunked up. We circumvented that potential catastrophe and then all the clothes got mixed up. We got that straightened out and then discovered that April had disappeared, which threw off the line up." Belinda blushed. That sounded pretty self-centered. "It seemed like a big deal at the time." Of course, if she'd known why April was MIA, it would have been an even bigger deal.

"So when was the last time you saw April?" Jonas took notes on his phone.

Oh, dear. He would ask her a timing question now. Belinda asked for a minute to align her memories; they swirled in a completely disorderly fashion at first. Working backward from Mr. Sykes, she managed to pinpoint when she saw April. "I'm certain I saw her right before Victoria and I had our landmark moment."

Jonas and Finnegan exchanged bewildered glances.

"We planned where to meet," she said, "and it worked! We found each other. But that's another story. I had a second to go meet her and on my way out, I saw April and Sawyer talking and...and that was the last time." A small lump grew in the bottom of her throat. She didn't know April. Well, know know her. But it was horrible to realize that moment she barely took note of—of April and Sawyer talking off by themselves—was her last memory of April.

Bennett reappeared and angled his seat so he was looking straight at her. Belinda straightened up, a little self-conscious with three intense sets of eyes glued to her. And his steel eyes were enough to make her nervous without Jonas and Finnegan mimicking him. He handed her a plate of pink frosted donuts with a glint in his eyes.

Cheeky. But she accepted the plate anyway.

Belinda offered one to everybody else before sinking her teeth into one herself. "Later on, there was a mix-up when the collections were delivered," she said with her mouth full. Completely rude, but necessary considering the circumstances. "I had to referee so clothes weren't ripped apart in the exchange."

Finnegan leaned back in his chair, relaxing against the desk, pink frosting on the tip of his nose.

Jonas tapped his knee like he was working something out in his mind. Maybe to do with the timing of events.

Caleb's words came back to her, but she wasn't sure that it meant anything yet. She hesitated, but said it anyway. "Caleb may have been in shock, but he told me that there was no pink jacket. Now I saw it go down the runway, but maybe it's significant."

Jonas arched his eyebrows, brushing some of his light brown hair off his forehead. "Yes, ma'am. Now that I've got my homework assignment, here's yours." He aimed his stylus at Belinda's nose. "Get every piece of dirt you can on these people."

"I will see what I can do." Belinda smiled, glancing at Bennett who half-smiled back but his head was definitely concentrating on something else. "What will Bennett and Finnegan do?"

"Search every aspect of their video footage and other info for anything we can use. Have fun, kids." Belinda grabbed the crook of Jonas' arm as he saluted, turning him toward her and straightened his tie, then patted down his windblown hair, which she figured had been brushed forward before he stepped outdoors.

"Better," she said and stepped away. Jonas needed a little help now and then.

Jonas bowed with a twinkle in his cat green eyes and waltzed out of the tent.

"Can I help?" Belinda said to Bennett.

Surprise flickered through his eyes. "Do you want to help? It's not very much fun." And Bennett had started to understand how important it was for Belinda to have fun.

"Why not?"

Bennett's mouth crooked up in that adorable way, or it was becoming adorable.

Finnegan wheeled aside so Belinda could sit in front of the desk. While she would be sitting for a while, Belinda wriggled the sling backs off her feet, sighing in relief at freeing her toes for the moment.

Finnegan leaned his chin on his palm, completely entranced at watching the two of them. Bennett transformed, almost—Finnegan couldn't quite find the right word—twinkling? No. That's what Belinda was doing. Her eyes twinkled and it radiated out from there. Sparkling was wrong too. Finnegan scratched the top of his head, at a loss for the right word. Whatever Bennett was doing at that moment was because of Belinda, that much he could tell.

Bennett picked up his folding chair and brought it over to the desk. After a long, hard glower at Finnegan who just glanced up at him and smiled, Finnegan finally took the hateful look on Bennett's face as a hint, and slid his chair over so Bennett could sit next to Belinda.

Bennett shook his head, replaying footage from that morning. "Some good we did," he said and pursed his lips.

Belinda tapped his arm, waiting for him to make eye contact. "You can't have eyes everywhere. Even the gray-eyed eagle has his limits."

Finnegan tried to suppress his laughter but a snicker leaked out and ruptured into a snort. Belinda smiled while Bennett's pleased expression became more of a scowl. She laughed along with Finnegan, nudging Bennett's arm playfully with her elbow. "You have to admit," she said, "it does sound kind of funny."

Bennett acknowledged that it did for the sake of not displeasing her, but because Belinda had coined the nickname, he didn't find it amusing at all. After slipping another snarl in Finnegan's direction when Belinda looked away, Finnegan cupped his hand over his mouth to stifle his chuckling.

"Can we see if April ever entered her station when we couldn't find her?" Belinda said. Bennett leaned back as her arm swung out in front of him so she could point at one of the monitors with her fingernail.

Finnegan looked to Bennett, who sat back in what he thought was a safe distance from Belinda's arm in case she felt the urge to leap across the desk again. He nodded to Finnegan to do what she asked. Apparently what the boss' girlfriend wanted, the boss' girlfriend got. He fast-forwarded to around the time they started looking for April. They watched until Caleb and the models all hurried out toward the stage. Belinda thought she heard Bennett snicker when she slid into view in the last part. She looked even more discombobulated than she'd felt.

But two interesting things happened on screen. One, they saw April in her station shortly before the garment bag mess and that was her last time there. Two, Caleb and Brooke had a much longer and more intense discussion before Belinda interrupted them. It almost looked like they knew each other.

"Well, she never came back," Belinda said nonplussed. Bennett's safe distance theory proved wise as she jerked her hand toward the screen again. "Where was she all that time?" Okay. So the obvious answer was dead. But when did she really disappear? Caleb realized April was MIA when it became critical, but when did she actually slip off radar?

Finnegan shook his head. Bennett had crossed his arms over his chest to keep out of flailing range, and his eyes were already turning over that information. "Something funny's going on at this show."

"Yeah, but what? Your stuff seems to be working, but someone was killed without anyone catching it."

Bennett held back a smile at her technical use of the word 'stuff.' "There's always blind spots, which may mean the killer knew our surveillance setup."

Finnegan and Belinda exchanged looks. Did that mean someone plotted to kill April and watched Bennett and his crew set up that morning so they would know where the blind spots were?

"What can I do to help?" she said.

"Do what you do best." Bennett's mouth crooked up. "Talk."

Belinda scrunched her nose. "Very nice, Mr. Security."

"I'm serious. Get your friend, Kori," Bennett emphasized her name, "alone and find out what you can about the other designers."

Belinda smiled, wishing he had a hat on that she could tug or something. As it stood, she had to just settle for conveying that sentiment through her eyes. From the look he gave her back, Belinda imagined he might have actually understood.