Chapter 23

 

 

Bennett drove Belinda's car because his was still at home, pulling up next to the sidewalk at the inn. After getting him out of jail, Belinda explained how she found the key card and key in his junk drawer, so they followed the bread crumbs as soon as they left the station.

It looked quiet inside the inn, lights glowing from the upstairs windows. Belinda wondered what name Brooke used for the room. If this was her doing. But Belinda felt certain it was.

She slowly became aware of Bennett watching her. She had so many things she wanted to say. "Bennett. You didn't have to...I'll tell Jonas what really happened–"

He pressed his finger to her lips. "You will do no such thing. Promise me." His eyes were fierce.

Belinda swallowed. "But–"

"Promise."

"I promise," she whispered.

"Did you tell anyone else?"

Belinda shook her head. "Only Vix."

"You can't talk about this ever again. Understand? To anyone. It never happened."

"But you–"

"It never happened." His eyes left no room for more discussion, so she dropped it.

"How did you know?"

"Tailing you, remember?"

Belinda nodded, her eyes tearing up. She sniffled. "What happened to Mrs. Sykes?"

"I wish I knew." He reached out, caressing the spot on her neck where she'd been stabbed with the needle. "Brooke was dead, and she was gone when I got back from the garden nursery."

That wasn't good. Not for her, or any of them.

"Do you think she killed Brooke?"

"Not really."

"Did you mention Mrs. Sykes to Jonas?"

Bennett hesitated. "No. Far as he's concerned she's just MIA since your run-in with her."

That didn't make her feel better. Especially if she did kill Brooke.

"Brooke saved the auto-injector," he said. "If Mrs. Sykes reappears and breathes a word about your involvement, it lands on Jonas' desk, along with any hope she has of escaping this without serious charges."

Belinda watched him, his steel eyes following the movement of his thumb circling the diminishing red spot on her neck. He sounded and looked a little deadly right then. Most of the time, it never crossed her mind. But moments like this, Belinda realized his bad side was a dangerous place to be.

"Why did you help Brooke?" he asked, the shadow passing.

Good question. She'd repeated the scenario a million times in her head since, wishing for a time machine to take her back so she could change what she'd done. "I don't really know." Belinda leaned against the headrest. "I was so shaken after Mrs. Sykes stabbed me with the epinephrine. And then Brooke was acting like a totally new person. I just followed for some reason." She wished she had a better explanation, but there it was.

Bennett stroked her cheek. "Let's see what Brooke has in store for us here."

They found the room and walked around it in a few strides. The oak four poster bed, including a peach-colored canopy, took up most of the space. It looked completely untouched. But they knew what they wanted. A suitcase.

Bennett pulled it out of the top shelf of the closet, hidden by a couple of king size pillows. It was surprisingly light. "What's supposed to be in here again?"

"A jacket."

Bennett shook his head. "I really don't get what this has to do with anything."

"Me either yet. But two people have possibly died because of this." Belinda pointed at the black fabric suitcase. There was nothing distinguishing about it. She hoped something more unique was inside. Belinda held up the key. "Here goes nothing."

She unlocked it and ran the zipper around. Looking up at Bennett for encouragement, she took a deep breath and threw it open. A pink leather jacket was folded carefully inside. Bennett scratched his head.

"What is this?" he said.

Belinda rubbed the fabric between her fingers. Good quality leather. Supple. Soft like butter. A true pink. But what on earth did it have to do with April's murder? Why was Mrs. Sykes willing to possibly kill her for this?

"Are you as confused as me?" Belinda said.

Bennett nodded. "I'm trying to figure out how this ties in...but I don't get it. Maybe it's not connected."

"No, no it is, Bennett. It has to be. This may be why April died." She fell onto the bed. "What do we do now?"

Bennett rubbed his jaw. "This is clearly important to someone, so I say we leave it here until I can talk to Jonas tomorrow morning. I'll hold onto the keys. If someone wants to come after me, have at it. But you're not getting in any deeper than you already are."

"I don't think you can save me now." She half-smiled. Mrs. Sykes' disappearance could mean a lot of bad things in the future. If she did steal from the fundraiser, it would probably come out if she didn't turn up. And Belinda had a sinking feeling that would mean the bulk of the attention would land on one person—her.

Worst. Idea. Ever.

Bennett fiddled with the zipper on the suitcase. "Did Jonas tell you what they learned about Sawyer's reaction?"

Belinda shook her head. Bennett explained quickly that they found traces of shrimp on the canapé from the trash, but not from the samples they took. They'd spoken to the caterer and the person responsible for making those canapés and they didn't use shrimp in any way, shape, or form. Unless they lied, only the canapé Sawyer ate had shrimp.

"More than one person saw Brooke bring him food," Bennett said. "No one could say for sure that she brought him that canapé, but she left before he reacted and Sawyer did admit she knew about his allergy."

"Do you think she tried to kill him?"

Bennett rubbed the scratch on his hand. "No."

She had no idea why, but Belinda agreed with him. Even with Brooke's weird spy-licious skills, Belinda still didn't believe she would lace Sawyer's food with shrimp. She rubbed the jacket absently. "What were you doing all this time? I know you were up to something."

Bennett took a seat next to her on the bed. "I told you. Tailing you."

"That wasn't all you were doing." Belinda shifted sideways to face him. He sat hunched over with his eyes on his hands, tucked between his knees. Bennett didn't always seem just human to her with his ever-abundant well of self-confidence. But right then he looked like just a guy. "I know you well enough to figure that out."

His mouth curled up. "I suppose you do." He rubbed his hands together. "I knew Brooke was somebody else a while ago. After the cocktail party actually. I, uh, went to see Sawyer afterward and looked through his phone."

"He let you look through his phone?"

Bennett laughed. "Yeah. Yeah, he let me look through his phone. We get along well, Sawyer and I."

"There's no need to be sarcastic." She folded her arms. "So what happened?"

Bennett sighed. "You really want that story?"

"You know I'm not going to let it go. So you may as well tell me and save yourself the grief."

He leaned his elbows on his thighs, and turned his head up to see her, a wicked light in his eye. "I was angry about Sawyer kissing you." He spoke free of emotion, though Belinda could see it still swirling around in there. "I found the key card after that and decided to follow Sawyer back to his room. The card worked his door, so I walked right in. He was expecting someone."

Belinda shimmied farther onto the bed, crossing her legs. This story was getting interesting.

"At the time, I thought he was expecting you," Bennett continued. "Now I think he was actually expecting Brooke. She told me about going to see him at the cocktail party. Anyway, I, um, lost my temper and choked him and then locked him in the bathroom." He did not look even the tiniest bit remorseful.

"You choked him and locked him in the bathroom?" A smile spread on her face. This was a thousand times better than she imagined it. "You sooooo like me."

"Do you want me to finish the story?"

Belinda straightened up and flattened her expression. "Please. Continue."

"Once I took care of that little problem, I checked his phone contacts. No one cropped up that I recognized. But then a photo he had made me go back and look again. Brooke was in his contacts, but under the name–"

"Riley." Belinda shook her head. "The annoying mystery person who was right under my nose the whole time."

"Yeah. I didn't know what it meant until later. But I knew I had to keep my eye on her. I had a feeling she wasn't completely innocent. There was a reason she was working for you. I knew there was."

Belinda hadn't really considered that possibility. Mostly because she was focused on finding out what Brooke was. Not why she was working for her. "What's the reason?"

Bennett tapped his fingers against his chin. "I thought that working for you put her in a strategic position, but there was more to it. She thought you'd make a good partner-in-crime for her. That much I found out."

"Yes, but to do what?" Belinda flailed her arms. "Kidnap desperate housewives? She told me she was in danger, which is clear now. But I can't figure out what she was. A spy? An undercover cop? A cyborg from the future?"

He gave her a small smile. "I doubt she's any of those things. I went to Brooke right after you dumped Mrs. Sykes on your boat. I told her I would help her if she promised to leave you out of her plans. Brooke agreed, so we went back to the boat after dark and dealt with it." Bennett studied his fingertips. "When we got back to my house, Mrs. Sykes was pretty cooperative—once she calmed down. Brooke was too, though she wouldn't divulge any details. I figured I could wear her down given time. But then she left while I was out, against my strict orders, and the killer found her."

Belinda raised her hand.

"Yes?" Bennett said in amusement.

"If Mrs. Sykes is not our killer, why did the murderer leave her alive?"

"Good question. Brooke was killed in the main house. So, theoretically, Mrs. Sykes could have hid in the spare bedroom when she realized what was happening and stayed there until...until she could leave."

A shudder made her convulse. She wasn't sure how she would react in that situation. She hoped she wouldn't just hide. "I'm sorry this happened. I never meant to drag you into this."

Bennett sat up, surprise on his face. "You didn't drag me into anything. I did this on my own because...because I care what happens to you. No other reason." He shook his head. "I'm sorry about Brooke, but I have a feeling she dug into something over her head and couldn't climb out. But you. You're a different story."

"I'm a trouble-finder."

"You are apparently a beacon for this sort of thing, and if I can't stop it, then I can try to protect you when it happens."

"You did a good job."

"Did I?"

Belinda's eyes watered up again. "Yes, Bennett. You did. I owe you...I'll never stop owing you."

"Don't say that." His voice was soft but firm. "You don't owe me anything. I would do that all over again in a heartbeat."

She knew that he would. And she also knew that she would do whatever possible to protect him from her mistakes.