Chapter 24

 

 

Belinda offered sleeping space in the carriage house if Bennett didn't want to sleep in his house that night. She certainly wouldn't, but Bennett said he could handle it, and she knew he could. But she was still reluctant to just leave him there alone after everything and especially with him holding the key card and suitcase key. What if the killer was watching and knew all this?

So she pretended to drive off and circled back around the subdivision, stopping just feet from his house. She could keep watch and warn him if anyone snuck onto the property. Or she could just Belinda chop them herself.

But she'd barely settled in and prepared for an all-nighter before Bennett scared her half to death (again!) by knocking on her window. "What are you doing?" he said once she rolled it down.

Her reply was something like "Um...ahh...so..."

He leaned on his knees to see her better. "Go home, Kittridge."

Belinda jutted out her bottom lip in defiance. She probably looked more like she was pouting than rebelling, but her face only worked so many expressions. "No."

"Why? You've had a long week. Don't you want to go home and crash?"

Well, of course she did! Except that she was so wired now she doubted she'd fall asleep until tomorrow anyway. She might as well do something useful while awake. "I'm trying to help."

Bennett leaned his arms on the window so his face was level with hers. "Then go home. Because if you don't, I won't get any sleep either, keeping an eye on you."

Considering he'd followed her all over Portside and just taken the fall for her stupidity, she couldn't very well deprive him of any more sleep. She sighed. "Fine. I'll go. But only so you can sleep."

"Thank you. I appreciate it." He tapped the side of her car. "Now go before I'm forced to drive you home to make sure you get there."

Belinda did, albeit reluctantly, and texted him when she got back as ordered to right before she drove away. His reply? Good. I'd hate to have to put you on lockdown. And mine will stick. To which she sent a cutesy emoticon representing her sticking her tongue out at him.

A second later, he replied, You know how I feel about those.

So she typed a smiley face.

Then he told her to go to bed.

Belinda giggled and slapped her phone on the bedside table. They were definitely getting back to normal. She tossed the quilt over her head and in minutes after hitting the pillow, she lost contact with the world.

When she woke up, it was that day finally. That dreadful, awful day when Belinda would have to stand in front of a three-way mirror in a chiffon dress that would expose all of the things wrong with her body that she had learned to disguise with her wardrobe.

She hid under the quilt until her alarm buzzed. Of course, the whirring of some power tools had woken her up a while ago. The Kittridge estate had been abuzz—literally—with construction workers, landscapers, and Kyle. She'd popped in the previous day to see how things were going, and demolition was basically finished. It was frightening stepping inside and seeing absolutely nothing except bare bones. She had to keep telling herself it wasn't permanent.

Belinda dragged herself out of the carriage house and over to meet Victoria so they could go to the dress fitting together. Victoria was not in the wedding, but she was close to Belinda's family and invited to attend anyway.

"All right, you've teased me long enough," Victoria said while they drove along toward the bridal boutique in Portside. "Give up the Bentails."

Belinda laughed. "I'll give you the punch line first: I think Bennett and I are officially okay."

"Okay okay? All of this ridiculousness hasn't relegated your relationship to a 'just friends' status?"

Belinda smiled mischievously. "Well, let's see." She tapped her chin. "We made out in the police station, so–" Victoria grabbed her arm.

"Back way, way up here. I want to know everything that happened."

Belinda described the whole horrible Bennett's arrested scene, and then Belinda ensuring there were no more misunderstandings after she bailed him out. She left out the inn and suitcase bit. It was a dangerous item and she'd done enough damage to one of her friends already.

Victoria mused on the whole scenario. "I bet Jonas had a chat with him."

"You think so?"

"Jonas seems more adept at this sort of thing, and he's pretty forthright. I can totally picture Jonas giving him the smackdown."

Belinda laughed. "So Jonas is Bennett's Victoria?"

Victoria grinned. "Everyone needs a smackdown sometimes and I don't think Bennett's the exception."

"He most certainly is not. I don't think Jonas was kidding when he told me I had my work cut out for me."

"So Bennett needs discipline."

"Lots of it."

Victoria adjusted her position in her seat, gripping the steering wheel more firmly. "So have we thought about wardrobe possibilities for Saturday's grand cupcake truck opening?"

"Uh-oh. You're talking about me in plural." Belinda had pretty much ignored her opening for at least twenty-four hours. But despite everything, she had to get back on the train and finish prepping, or she could kiss that good-bye as well.

"Don't kid; I know you're nervous and that you've already started thinking about it. You've got news crews covering it, and Bennett will be there watching. You need to think ahead about these things and keep him coming back for more."

Belinda nodded, the two of them all business now. Jitters ran up and down her spine. "I don't know which direction to take. I'll be dancing, so it needs to give, and I'll be working, so I want to be comfortable and not sweat like a wrestler. But I want to look hot. And not in the sense of the previous statement about the wrestler."

"I totally agree. Something flirty and cute but not overly constricting."

"Which narrows down the amount of clothes I can access significantly." She pinched the bridge of her nose, her stomach sinking. She kept forgetting that most of her clothes were in the boxes piled up in back of the carriage house and she had no idea which ones. Someday, that would have to change, but it wouldn't be for a while. "This move into the carriage house has been nothing but a headache."

"No need to despair. What about adjusting the outfit you wore to the cocktail party? I know that was a traumatic evening and all, but that's all behind you now and you do need an outfit for Saturday."

"I did like what I wore that night and it was comfortable. Do you think it would bother Bennett to see me in that again?"

"Would he even have noticed or remember at this point?"

Belinda just stared at her for a moment.

"Okay, you're right," Victoria said. "Gray-eyed eagle, blah blah blah. He'll remember. Well, why don't you just change up something about it then? You'll need different shoes and less accessories anyway. That way it's not exactly the same thing you wore that night."

"Good plan. I think I can manage that."

"I know you can." Victoria wiggled around. "So you made out in the jail, huh? That's hot."

Belinda grinned.

The lady at the bridal boutique downtown unzipped the garment bag holding her dress. She felt like a cooked shrimp trying to squeeze back into its uncooked skin as she shimmied and wriggled and sucked in every inch to see that it zipped all the way to the top. But it did zip all the way to the top and she could still breathe. Sort of. She glanced at one of the chairs in the dressing room and sighed. She wasn't sure she would be able to sit.

"It fits you perfectly." The sales lady beamed and ferried her out of the dressing room to where the rest of the girls waited. In the center of the circle, Belinda winced in the face of the ultimate of horrors: a three-way mirror. The sales lady ushered her onto the platform.

Belinda opened her eyes at the behest of the other girls and discovered that her destiny did not look as bulging at the seams as she expected. In fact, as surprised as she was to admit it, she actually looked pretty good. Even sexy. The champagne-colored gown crossed one shoulder and gathered across her chest, flowing down to the floor from her hips.

All the girls demanded that she twirl, so she did so slowly, coming back around to the mirrors, still impressed with her own appearance. Her cousin Nicole clapped and hooted while a couple of the other girls, including Mia, whistled. Victoria laughed and winked as Belinda glanced back at her coyly.

Nicole hugged her as she climbed down off the platform. "I told you you would look marvelous! I can't imagine what you were afraid of."

I was afraid of looking like a lumpy pillow, Belinda thought. But the truth was, she didn't look like a lumpy anything. Belinda returned to the dressing room, wanting to crash into one of the chairs from emotional exhaustion. At least that was over and it wasn't anything near as bad as what she expected. Of course, it would be hard to top the last few days.

As she put her own clothes back on, fingering the edge of her dress with more affection than when she got there, her phone rang. Belinda dug through her purse, finally grasping it. An unknown number. With all the bad news lately, she was going to ignore it, but something in her gut told her to pick up. Before she knew what she was doing, she answered. "Hello?"

A second went by before Belinda heard anything. "Belinda?" A man's voice. A frightened, near-hysterical man's voice. And she'd heard it before.

"Caleb? Is that you?" Belinda moved her bag off the chair so she could sit down and concentrate. Plus, she feared she might actually pass out from exhaustion. She would never tell Bennett, but it was a good thing he made her go home to bed.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I don't know who else I can trust."

Belinda scratched her head at that, but she took a breath and bypassed it for the time being. "Where are you?"

A few seconds ticked by. "I need your help. I don't want to say much over the phone. Will you meet me?"

Belinda drummed her fingers on the side of her face, thinking about everything at stake now. Bennett rotting in prison... "When? Where?"

"That old cemetery up by the church at the top of the common. You know, the one at the top of that long descent that lands in downtown?"

"The cemetery?" She did not like the sounds of that.

"Trust me. And please...please don't say anything to anyone."

Belinda rubbed her temple. "Sure." Belinda peeked behind her, hearing voices lurking near the door.

There was no response.

"Hello?" Belinda checked, but the call was lost. She sighed, tossing her phone back in her bag. She had a feeling she would not like what was coming, and she just hoped she lived long enough to relay what she knew to Jonas.

 

En route to meet Caleb after dropping off Victoria, who was headed to work, Belinda remembered Caleb's strange request at the show after he found April's body. He asked for Riley. Repeatedly.

He knew Brooke.

Which made some amount of sense because Caleb worked for April and Brooke had worked for Sawyer. And Sawyer and April were friends. But then Caleb also denied knowing any Riley and now she was dead.

So was this urgent graveyard meeting about Brooke?

Belinda parked on a cross street and walked to the old cemetery next to the white church. She'd seen plenty of wedding processions crawling down from there to the rectangular common below. Green and shady with a view of Portside Harbor. And Caleb was right, it was a long, gradual descent to the downtown. Like other parts of Portside, it was just a street up from the main strip, but felt sequestered. Her town was weird like that.

Caleb waited for her next to a tree, its roots tangled above ground. There was a meager picket fence with an open gate to the side. Belinda stepped off the concrete path, riddled with imperfections, another town-wide problem, and crossed through the tombstones—gray, green, and mostly illegible because of erosion. Caleb had on mint green jeans and red sneakers and a black jacket zipped up to his neck. His brown, wavy hair was in a messy clump on his head, and Belinda could just make out dark circles under his glasses.

Belinda frowned. "What are we doing here?"

Caleb motioned with his head, a weary smile on his lips. "I'll show you."

Belinda followed to a corner of the cemetery in the back of the church where shadows curled over them like awnings. Caleb knelt by a grave that, after squinting hard, Belinda could tell read Prudence something and the dates were sometime in the 1700s. One of Portside's heydays. Though it wasn't doing too bad in the twenty-first century either.

Caleb lifted what looked like a piece of slate in front of the grave. He blinked, thrusting it up completely and bending over.

"What are you doing?" Belinda whispered.

"It should be here." Caleb lifted up other pieces of slate and stone around the grave.

"What should be here?"

Caleb scratched his head. "Maybe I have the wrong marker." He got up, examining other graves in the cemetery. Having no clue what he was hoping to find, other than dates and names and weeds, Belinda stood by patiently. Bewildered and frustrated, Caleb marched back over.

"Let's go somewhere public." Caleb slung a backpack on his right shoulder and Belinda dutifully followed him out of the cemetery and down the hill, gazing back at the grave in curiosity. What was he looking for?

They walked down to a coffee shop and sat in a corner perfumed with roasting beans and brewed espresso. Belinda sipped her iced latte concoction. "So are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Caleb glanced around nervously. "I was looking for a flash drive."

"In a cemetery?"

Caleb gulped. "I don't know where it would be now. She told me it was right there in that cemetery."

"Caleb," Belinda reached across the table and held his arm. "Who told you and what is on that drive?"

Caleb breathed in and out a second, gazing out the window. "Brooke. She e-mailed me out of the blue and told me she'd buried a drive in that cemetery. It has all of her notes on it. The only reason she would have told me that is if she thought I'd need to retrieve it. And...and then I found out she was dead yesterday." Caleb looked down at the table.

Belinda closed her eyes, shaking her head. She still had no idea what he meant. "You seriously need to start at the beginning. Way back at the beginning, because none of this means anything to me."

He looked confused. "She never told you?"

"Told me what?" Belinda and Brooke never talked, but apparently Caleb missed that memo.

"The way she talked about you in her e-mail, I thought for sure..." Caleb sipped his coffee. "Brooke was investigating for a story. Well, that's what she was hoping for, but I think she got distracted."

Belinda just stared at him.

"She wanted to be an investigative journalist," Caleb whispered. It was loud with all the blending and grinding and talking with high ceilings, but you never knew. "We both did. It's why I started working for April. But I changed my mind after a while and gave it up. Brooke never did."

Of all the occupations she'd considered, that never made Belinda's list. But in retrospect, it fit the puzzle.

He continued. "I hadn't seen or heard from her in forever until she showed up here. She wanted me to jump back in the game, but I told her I was done for real. No interest in going back to it whatsoever."

Belinda wrapped her head around that. "So...she was investigating aspiring fashion designers to expose them?" At least one person backstage had skeletons, and she was dead. Did her murder all come down to a story Brooke planned to do?

"Brooke would take on all kinds of work just to get a closer look behind the scenes." Caleb's eyes had gotten all reminiscent. "She always came up empty, but then she started working for Sawyer a couple years ago. I got a call one day that she'd hit pay dirt and wanted me to take an assistant's job with April. She thought she'd found something that had to do with her. So I took the job."

Belinda started to feel uneasy. Taking on all kinds of work to get to people's dirty laundry... "What happened?"

"It did have to do with April, but it also had to do with Sawyer. And...and neither of us was too keen on continuing with it."

Belinda tapped her fingers on the plastic cup. "Why not? Was it not big enough of a scandal?"

Caleb shrugged, smirking. "No one in the grand scheme of things would care, but it was more than that. I liked April. She helped me out, gave me the first steady job I'd had, and taught me a lot. And I didn't want to hurt her."

Then there was that kiss outside the art gallery and Sawyer's explosion at the pool party. "And Brooke liked Sawyer."

Caleb nodded. "She left. Went to find new work, a new possible story."

"And you stayed with April." Belinda sighed. "Did Sawyer know about all of this?"

"I don't know. I doubt it."

"What did she have on them?"

Caleb ran his fingers through his hair, somehow messing it up even more. "It was so frustrating, you know, because I did all of that to help her, but then she wouldn't tell me what she knew. It was about Sawyer, and I had to dig around to find out for myself after all that. But I worked for April, so it wasn't impossible. Especially with their joint line coming out."

"What did you find?"

Caleb looked at her significantly. "Sawyer can't sew."

Belinda stared at him. "Huh?"

"He can't sew. Not a stitch. Can't even replace a button." Caleb laughed. "Incredible, huh?"

Belinda just imagined Kori jumping all over that news, and guessed that most other designers would look down their noses at him. That detail could completely discredit him as a fashion designer. "So how did he...?"

"Moolah. Lots and lots of it to pay people. Pay some to do his sewing—and keep quiet—and more to pay off anyone who found out."

Belinda crashed back against the wood slats on her chair. Fake down to the last, wasn't he? "And April?"

Caleb looked at his hands, entwined on the table. "Not the best designer, but an excellent technician. Her work was impeccable. And despite his—impediments—Sawyer could design."

And the lights came on. So even if Sawyer could design the clothes, not being able to sew himself would still hurt his reputation, at least in his industry, and could have prevented him getting very far. But if he joined forces with someone with the opposite problem—someone who could sew wonderfully, but not necessarily design—he could solve his problem. "So their joint clothing line..."

"Mutually beneficial. Sawyer was going to design and April, execute." Caleb glanced out the window. "It would've worked out, too."

Belinda admired Caleb's sincere interest in his boss. He knew her flaws, but still believed in her. That news put a new light on the case, though. Sawyer would have had no reason to kill April, but still plenty of reasons to kill Brooke. For that matter, Brooke had a few reasons of her own to try and put Sawyer down for good, and more than likely she would've known about Sawyer's deadly shellfish allergy.

Then there was the fact that Sawyer's name was in the Sykes' super secret notebook. If Sawyer had to pay people off, he had to come by the money somehow. So maybe he had a deal going with Mrs. Sykes, who gave him the money he needed to stay afloat. But then if his arrangement with April worked out, maybe Sawyer would no longer need Mrs. Sykes' financial help with April to cover him in the sewing department.

Providing all of this was close to the mark, would that make Mrs. Sykes mad? Maybe angry enough to kill April and Brooke? But what would she get in return for giving Sawyer money? As far as Belinda knew, Mrs. Sykes had been MIA since the, um, kidnapping fiasco.

"What story was Brooke investigating?" Belinda said.

"Something to do with that blonde woman who organized the show. I really don't know the details, but I got the feeling it all went back to Sawyer somehow. Like that Brooke was investigating because of him or something." He swished his drink around. "But I think she got derailed somehow."

The fundraiser embezzling. Brooke knew and was here to finish the job. But what did Sawyer have to do with it all? "Do you know where Sawyer got the money to pay people off?"

Caleb shook his head. "He's pretty discreet about these things."

No doubt why he was so eager to shake Mrs. Sykes, who was proving to not be so discreet about things. At least right now. Maybe the divorce had frazzled her more than she let on. Either that, or maybe Riley—aka Brooke—had threatened to expose the embezzling. "Where else would Brooke have hidden the drive?"

Caleb shrugged, dismayed. "That was the only spot she told me about, so she must've moved it last second and didn't get a chance to tell me."

That wasn't particularly cheerful news. "Did she mention anything about a suitcase or a jacket?"

Caleb frowned. "No. Why?"

Belinda dismissed it. "Never mind. That's not important right now. If the drive is missing, it could mean her killer has it now. The house was turned upside down after she was killed."

Caleb shook his head fervently. "I don't think so. Brooke was smart. She would've re-hidden the drive right away."

That thought led to another disturbing idea. If Brooke had e-mailed Caleb, would the killer know about it now? "What about that e-mail she sent? Was it in code or anything? Would just anyone be able to read it and know what it meant?"

Caleb shook his head again. "I doubt it. I mean, we didn't exactly use code, but we had sort of a dialect when it came to these things. We could say stuff without really saying it."

If that flash drive was enough reason to get herself strangled to death, then it might be enough reason for the killer to come after it too. Belinda frowned. "What did Brooke want with me? Do you know?" It was the one question that really bugged her. When Belinda fired her on the yacht, Brooke had seemed genuinely disappointed. The look on Brooke's face then still bothered her.

Caleb licked whipped cream off his lips. "She thought you'd make a good partner maybe? For her investigating. Brooke read about something that happened to you earlier in a newspaper. Something to do with a boat and a kidnapping or something." Caleb waved it off. "I don't remember. Anyway, between that and some other things she observed, Brooke felt you might make a good team. It seemed you knew people well and would make a good contact. So I guess she started digging for a way to get close to you and this assistant's job came up. You know the rest."

Belinda thought back to when Brooke applied. She never would have imagined then that Brooke would turn out to be this. Amazing how many of Belinda's perceptions had gone all topsy-turvy within a week.

"Well, that's not what I expected," she said, "but it's better than no answer at all. Do you think Brooke stumbled onto something she wasn't prepared for?"

"She was brazen, so it's possible." Caleb folded his hands on the table. "Like I said, far as I know, she was back to sort of follow up on things, and maybe get a little help from you."

Help from her. Well, she certainly got it, and now Belinda was left with the whole mess. "Whatever happened, I think we need Jonas. Before one of us is crossed off the list too."

They grabbed their coffees and marched outside and past the common that led up to the church. Normally, Belinda would cut through that way to get to her car. But now she was on edge and preferred the long way around in better view of passing cars and pedestrians. Whether it was just her nerves or reality, Belinda felt like someone was following them along the cobblestoned street, and picked up her pace. Caleb passed her a look, and Belinda started to think she wasn't the only one on edge.

They speed-walked, and last second, Belinda plowed into Caleb and dragged him up the concrete steps of the post office on the corner. They took shelter in the lobby among the PO boxes, and Belinda's hand shook as she dialed Jonas. "Please come get us," she blurted. "We're at the post office."

Startled, Jonas told her to stay put. No problem. She and Caleb clung to each other as the glass door swung open. They held their breath, expecting to see some dude in black with a gun to shoot them dead right there. A glass door separated them from the counter, and nobody was in line. They could be killed and no one would even know.

Kori walked in. Caleb and Belinda let out a collective sigh of relief, and Kori turned. "You two look like death," she said, tapping a few postcards on her free hand. "What's with the sighing?"

"N–nothing," Belinda said. "We're just...waiting for someone."

"At the post office?"

"Car trouble," Caleb offered. Belinda thought both of them looked and sounded like more was wrong than car trouble, but oh well. He'd already said it.

Kori sashayed toward them. "I can take you home. My car's back at the inn, but it's only a few blocks."

"No, no. That's fine." Belinda tried to sound normal, but she babbled at the best of times. So maybe it didn't matter that she did so now. "I called someone and he's left already. No big deal." She let out a breath to steady herself.

Kori pouted. "Okay. Well, if you need a ride later, call me. I've got nothin' else to do."

"Sure thing."

Kori looked them over again, made a little shrug of her leather-bound shoulders, and went through the partition. Belinda and Caleb slumped over in exhaustion. "I think I need to go to the hospital again," he said. "I feel like my arteries are going to explode."

"Just breathe." Belinda took the lead in that, inhaling and exhaling slowly. They still huddled together when Jonas ran in.

"Are you okay?" he said. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Belinda said. "We just...we thought someone was following us. I think we're both just strung out."

Jonas glanced at Caleb curiously. "You disappeared, my friend. We tried to talk to you, but the inn told us you'd checked out suddenly."

Caleb struggled to swallow. "I–I'm sorry. It's not what it looks like."

Jonas sighed. "Alright. Into my car, you two."

They went to leave just as Kori came back out with stamps now on her postcards. She slipped them into the box and smiled wide. "Hello, Detective." Belinda wanted to roll her eyes. Not now, Kori. Please.

Jonas said something polite in response, but Belinda could tell he just wanted to get out of there, too.

"Are you their ride?" Kori said, somewhat in disbelief.

"Yeah," Jonas said casually. "We should get going. I've gotta get back to the station."

Kori pressed through the door first when he opened it, and Jonas slipped an annoyed glance at her back. Feeling safe in the passenger's seat of Jonas' sedan, Belinda waved to Kori now waiting at the crosswalk. Jonas ignored her. They did the slow-drive back past where Belinda and Caleb came from, and looped onto the main artery through town toward the station. Belinda hoped they were just paranoid because of recent events.

Of course, Belinda reminded herself, she knew better than that, too.

 

 

~ * ~

 

 

Because Caleb fled his lodging in panic after he learned about Brooke's murder, Belinda agreed Caleb could stay in the guest house with them for the moment. So an officer drove them to Belinda's car and then followed them home.

Kyle and the boy-kitten sat curled up snoozing on the couch together. Belinda walked over and dropped her bag onto the wood floor with a bang.

Kyle and the kitten sprung up in tandem. The kitten charged over Kyle's face to the other side of the room and slid his way under part of the cat tree and hid behind it.

"What?! What is it? What's happening?" Kyle blinked, his sister, hands on hips (never the start of anything good for him), standing by the end of the sofa.

"We have a guest," Belinda said. "Say hello to Caleb. Caleb, this is my brother. He snores."

Kyle wrinkled up his nose. "Hello, Caleb. That's my sister. She talks dirty in her sleep."

"I do not!"

Kyle looked at Caleb with an evil smile. "She so does. And you know who she talks dirty to?"

Belinda swept across the room, smacking Kyle across the head en route.

"Ow!" Kyle stood just to get away from her. "She's also mean, vindictive, and violent."

Belinda smiled.

While Caleb showered and changed, per her suggestion from the looks of him, Belinda conferred with Kyle on the couch, filling him in on the situation. The boy-kitten returned once it seemed safe to do so, curling next to Kyle who patted his head. Belinda arched a brow, but didn't comment. If he was getting used to the kittens, so much the better. She had no intention of parting with all of them anyway.

"You do know how to find trouble." Kyle shook his head. "You need one of those lifeline things so you can just press a button when you stumble on a murderer."

Belinda stuck her tongue out. The kitten crawled across Kyle and meowed up at her, jutting his neck out for more lovin'. "I've been so excited about opening the cupcake truck and now I want nothing to do with it." Two more days to go. She hoped she survived until then.

"You'll be fine. Just put your party face on and do it. They've got to be close to solving this case by now."

From the look on Jonas' face earlier, she thought he might be right. After a good meal, she smoothed on a clay facial mask to calm down her skin, which had erupted the past week, and trudged upstairs to watch one of her comfort action movies while the two boys—three, counting the kitten—played video games. Just as she was snuggling into the dip in the middle of her bed, there was a rap on the door. She wanted to scream Go away! She was done with surprises and information for the day.

"Bels, would you get that?" Kyle yelled.

Belinda screwed up her face in disgust. She was tired and cranky and simply not in the mood!

But she pulled herself out of her cozy niche, stomping by them. So much for her spa moment. Lazy, messy...

"Yes?" she said curtly before realizing to whom she was speaking.

Bennett's eyes crinkled up as he raised his eyebrows. He didn't say anything, just stared at her.

"What?" She blinked. Was everyone in her life hit with the incapacitated stick that day?

"Your...face." Bennett sliced his finger in the air in her face's general direction.

Belinda put a hand to her cheek, the still-moist clay squished between her fingers. "Oh!" She blushed—under the green-gray goop all over her face—and ran into the bathroom, leaving Bennett hanging around outside the door. Neither Kyle nor Caleb seemed to notice.

Belinda scrubbed the mask off, dabbing at her skin with a towel. Once she dried off and readjusted her hair and skimmed blush onto her cheeks, Belinda felt safe to return. Bennett waited at the threshold.

"Sorry," she said and smiled shyly, blushing again at her spastic rudeness, and his sneak peek into what she actually looked like on a regular basis.

Kyle almost broke into a laughing fit at the sight of Bennett, which reminded him of Belinda's tree climbing stunt, but squelched it on making eye contact with his sister. She looked sweet, but she could be downright evil when she had a mind to be.

"Sorry it's such a mess," she said, panicking as her eyes settled on Kyle's couch area. She would have to make sure Bennett only faced the kitchen.

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 gouge, 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.