Two to Tango (A Belinda & Bennett Mini Mystery)

  Two to Tango

  (A Belinda & Bennett Mini Mystery)

  Amy Saunders

  Two to Tango

  Copyright © 2016

  http://amysaundersauthor.com

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Other Titles by Amy Saunders

  The Belinda & Bennett Mysteries

  Cliffhanger (Book One)

  Auf’d (Book Two)

  Drive-Bye (Book Three)

  Overkill (Book Four)

  Personal Shopper (A Short Story)

  Unexpected (A Short Story)

  The Birthright Series

  Inborn (Book 1)

  Marked (Book 2)

  Bequest (A Short Story)

  Standalone Titles

  Biohazard (A Novella)

  The Jester’s Apprentice

  Dead Locked

  Bast & Immie (A Short Story)

  Belinda hunched over her rake, baseball cap low over her shaded eyes, peeking up as much as she dared to see the goings-on in the back of the house. The housekeeper was in the library of Madame Russo’s–her grandmother’s–Portside townhouse, tiptoeing around to the desk. The young woman glanced around, opened a desk drawer, and shoved something inside. She closed the drawer and hurried out.

  Belinda glanced around, then snuck in through the library’s French doors, using her spare key. All was quiet inside, so she slipped her sunglasses off to see clearly, and carefully opened the top drawer of the mahogany desk so she wouldn’t make too much noise. An envelope sat on the very top. Glancing up, Belinda pulled it out and peeked inside. The envelope wasn’t sealed and there was a thick stack of cash inside.

  The housekeeper left money behind? A lot of money behind. Belinda drummed her fingers on the desk. Before she zoned out completely, the front door squeaked open and Belinda quickly shut the drawer and slipped back outside, making sure to lock the door. She grabbed her rake and slunk away around the side of the house. With no one in sight, she took off the cap and glasses, shaking her blonde waves out. She wiggled out of the scrubby overalls, stuffed everything into a duffle bag, and tossed it in her silver Mini Cooper’s trunk.

  She hopped in and zipped away from the curb, parked a few blocks from her grandmother’s home near downtown Portside, calling Bennett as she drove. “So something weird just happened,” she said. “The housekeeper left an envelope stuffed with cash in the library desk.”

  Bennett took a few seconds to respond to that. “Okay. That is bizarre. Anything else?”

  “That was the only thing I saw.” Belinda swung a right at a stop sign. “I couldn’t poke around more because the front door opened and I had to leave. We’ve been stalking people and watching the house for days. I could be at the beach now if we hadn’t gone to the Portside Garden Tour.” Belinda huffed in irritation.

  “You like going to the Portside Garden Tour.”

  “Yes, I do. But only when certain people don’t pop in to visit without warning.”

  Belinda’s grandmother showed up unexpectedly at the annual private garden tour, secreted Bennett away for a few minutes, and roped him into doing some discreet investigating for her. Apparently, her grandmother had returned to her Portside home briefly (she’d spent the past weeks in the Hamptons with her other daughter’s family) and was convinced someone stole her husband’s manuscript from the safe. Only the manuscript was still technically in the safe, and her grandmother was the only person who knew the safe combination.

  Belinda had no clue why anyone would want her grandfather’s incomplete manuscript about Portside birds, but her grandmother was absolutely convinced the manuscript currently in the safe was not the original.

  “Maybe you should go take a break,” Bennett said.

  “Are you sending me to my room?”

  “I’m sending you to get a coffee and something chocolate.”

  Well, she could hardly protest that suggestion. Even if she was beginning to think her grandmother had lost her mind. “Maybe Gram is imagining things. Nothing we’ve found so far indicates there was a theft.”

  “You want to be the one to tell her that?”

  Belinda paused. “No.”

  She could picture his lips twisted up in a smirk. “Then we need to find another angle. Figure out how the thief could have opened the safe.”

  “Maybe we need to be a little more aggressive.” Belinda drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, waiting at a stop sign for a car to pass so she could turn. “All this watching and surveying isn’t garnering much. Maybe we need to be more direct.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “I could stop by the house in a more official capacity. See what I can scare up.” Belinda shrugged a shoulder, unsure it was the greatest idea ever. On the other hand, they needed to get to the bottom of things sooner rather than later. The last thing she needed was her grandmother on their case about this. “The house has been empty for weeks. I’m sure no one will expect a visitor.”

  “Shake the tree a little? Could be what we need to move forward. Not bad, Kittridge. You can play the devoted granddaughter checking in on things.”

  She sighed, glancing at the clock. “I’ll have to time it right, when someone might actually show up. In the meantime, I have to let you go. Mia and I have a cupcake council meeting to decide what flavors to feature this weekend.”

  “When do you meet?”

  “Now.” Belinda smiled. “I’m officially late, so I need to hustle. Keep me updated if you come up with anything brilliant about Gram’s problem.”

  “You’ll be the first one I call.”

  When Belinda returned to her grandmother’s house the following afternoon–in an open capacity, sans landscaper getup–she found it empty. Instead of turning around and going home, she checked around to make sure everything else appeared in order. Honestly, not that she would know. She never spent much time there. All she really knew was her grandmother was neat and orderly. As long as nothing looked ransacked, she’d have to figure all was well.

  The white Greek Revival inspired house sat on a narrow rectangular lot with a square of grass in front and one in back with flowering bushes towering on both sides of the stone path to the front door. In some ways, it surprised Belinda how miniscule the house was in comparison to her family’s home on the outskirts of town on the water. But her grandmother appeared to be more of a city girl, and seemed to prefer to live in town.

  What the house lacked in size it made up for in class. From the traditional architectural style to the white marble tile in the entryway to the crystal chandelier in the dining room, the whole house was subdued but elegant. Belinda’s favorite feature, though, were the many framed black and white photographs of silent film and theater stars of the early twentieth century. It was a nice nod to her grandmother’s th
eater background.

  After examining the bedrooms (she knew nothing incredibly valuable was just sitting out), Belinda wandered back into the library, tipping open the desk drawer where she’d found the money the day before. The envelope was still there. Weird.

  The front door slammed shut, making Belinda jump out of her skin and shove the drawer back in place louder than she intended. She hustled out of the room and came face-to-face with her grandmother’s assistant, Sylvia, rushing down the hallway toward her.

  Sylvia stopped abruptly when she saw Belinda, surprised, then suspicious. Her yellow hair was pulled into a twist on the back of her head, accentuating a narrow, long face with high cheekbones and a thin, long nose. She wore a white button-down shirt tucked into a pencil skirt and nude open-toe pumps. The least conservative thing about her was the sparkler of a diamond strung close to her neck.

  “Who are you?” Sylvia asked accusingly, holding her cell phone midair.

  Belinda smiled apologetically. “Sorry to surprise you. I’m Belinda…Kittridge. Shirley’s granddaughter…”

  It took a few seconds to register, but Sylvia blinked several times, her small mouth puckering into a sort of smile. She switched her phone to the other hand and held it out to shake. “I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize you Ms. Kittridge.”

  Belinda shook hands, thinking how odd it was that this woman, her grandmother’s personal assistant, had no clue who she was. In contrast, everyone who worked closely with her nana (her paternal grandmother), knew Belinda very well.

  “I’m just checking on things,” Belinda said. She didn’t really feel obligated to elucidate one way or another. It was her grandmother after all.

  “Well, I wish your grandmother had mentioned you might be stopping by. I would have made preparations for you.”

  Belinda waved it off. “I don’t need anything. And everything looks in order.”

  “Yes…yes, I hope so.” Sylvia hugged the leather tote close to her body, peering off to the side, like she had something to add to that.

  “Is there anything you need?”

  “Well…” Sylvia clutched the phone to her chest, glancing beyond Belinda. “I haven’t said anything to your grandmother because I have no proof, but…I think the housekeeper stole some money.”

  Belinda’s mind darted to the envelope in the desk drawer. “Why do you think that?”

  “Because I saw her rifling through a drawer in Mrs. Russo’s bedroom. And when I came in, acting like I had no idea she was there, she got very flustered, like I’d caught her doing something wrong.”

  “Did you confront her about it?”

  “No.” Sylvia walked closer, her heels clicking on the floor. “Truthfully, I felt bad about it. She’s a young woman, and I’ve heard her arguing with her boyfriend on the phone sometimes. I think they’re in a bit of a money bind.” She dropped to a whisper on the last part, like someone might overhear.

  “I see.” If this was true, had Belinda witnessed the housekeeper returning what she’d stolen? Maybe she only meant to “borrow” it, with the hope that no one would ever know it was missing?

  “Perhaps you could talk to her?” Sylvia’s face lit up with hope.

  Belinda’s eyes shot open. “Me?”

  “Yes! That would be perfect! You can rightfully represent your grandmother and speak to her.” Sylvia lowered her voice. “Maybe we could resolve this whole matter without having to involve Mrs. Russo.”

  Ah. Now to the heart of the real problem. Sylvia did not want to tell Madame Russo that she thought the housekeeper was stealing from her. Belinda couldn’t blame her. And this did open up a perfectly legitimate opportunity to talk to the housekeeper, though she had to admit this wasn’t exactly how she hoped to approach her.

  “Well…”

  “That would be lovely!” Sylvia checked something on her phone. “I really appreciate it. I can arrange it if you like. Have her meet you here.”

  Belinda was going to object that she hadn’t agreed to do anything yet, but decided last second that this might be the perfect way to investigate without investigating. Even if it meant starting things off on an awkward note. “That would be fine.”

  Sylvia smiled wide, and Belinda was officially roped in.

  ~ * ~

  Belinda and Bennett sat in her grandmother’s living room–a very formal affair like a Victorian parlor–with the housekeeper, Janelle. Without sounding like she was accusing her, Belinda had delicately brought up that she was concerned about some things to do with the house.

  “That jealous cow Sylvia told you that, didn’t she?” Janelle said, her eyes flashing.

  Obviously, the delicate part of things didn’t work, and Belinda and Bennett exchanged an amused glance.

  “Unbelievable.” Janelle fell back into the mauve Louis chair by the fireplace, crossing her arms. Her straight brown hair fell well below her shoulders. “I got a little bonus and she didn’t and now she accuses me of stealing. Tacky.”

  “Bonus?” Belinda said. “From Mrs. Russo?”

  Janelle lifted a hand, toying with a ring around one finger. “More like an early wedding present. Mrs. Russo gave it to me before she left in June, saying she knew it was early, but she wouldn’t be around for the actual wedding.”

  Could the wad of cash in the desk drawer be the wedding present? Why return it? “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” Janelle half smiled, but her eyes were blank. Not exactly the excited bride-to-be Belinda would expect. “I can’t believe Sylvia would be this hateful over a wedding present.”

  Belinda moved forward on the settee in an attempt to find a comfortable position. Her butt was going numb on the unforgiving cushion. “Well, then, have you noticed anything odd recently? Out of place? You’re here often. If anyone would notice, it might be you.”

  Janelle looked up from twisting her ring around, crinkling her eyebrows together. “No, I haven’t. Except…”–Janelle tilted her head–“I did see someone with a rake dash through the bushes the other day. But I assumed he was a landscaper. They’re here every so often when I clean. Odd way to leave, though.”

  Belinda pressed her lips tight, feeling her cheeks flush.

  “Anyway,” Janelle continued, “is that all? I really need to get to my next job.”

  Belinda sighed, glancing at Bennett to see if he had any other questions. Bennett shrugged slightly, so Belinda gave the okay. “Thanks for meeting with us. Sorry to trouble you.”

  “No problem. As sad as it is, I can’t say I’m shocked this happened.” Janelle stood, tugging down her shirt. She smiled brightly as she passed them and skipped out of the house. Maybe a little too brightly, like she was certain she’d just successfully averted suspicion.

  Once the front door closed, Bennett slowly turned toward Belinda, a smile crinkling his eyes. Belinda pursed her lips, knowing what was coming. She was about to hear about her landscaper disguise. “I thought you said you’d been discreet?”

  She glowered at him, getting up and grabbing her handbag as she headed for the front door. “I was.”

  “Clearly.” Bennett opened the door for her, following her out.

  “Oh, stop. I didn’t have a choice.”

  They watched Janelle rev out of the driveway without stopping to look. Belinda and Bennett watched her fly off, and so did a woman on the sidewalk walking her dog, who stopped just short of the driveway entrance.

  Belinda sauntered down the path to the sidewalk, catching the woman’s eye. The woman laughed lightly. “She’s got quite the lead foot,” she said, reigning in the Yorkshire terrier that strained on its leash.

  “Sorry about that,” Belinda said, frowning. “She works for my grandmother.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m used to it.” Then the lady’s eyes widened. “You’re Shirley’s granddaughter?”

  “Well, one of them. You know each other?” For some reason, Belinda had trouble picturing this seemingly jovial woman with the short sandy hair and cherub
ic face chitchatting with Madame Russo in the yard.

  “We see each other at fundraisers and the sort. You must be the one who owns a business in town–a bakery?” She held out her hand as Belinda came down the steps to meet her. “Vera.”

  Belinda was all astonishment that her grandmother had ever mentioned her business to anyone as she introduced herself and Bennett. They shook hands, and Belinda glanced down the road. “So she’s kind of a wild driver?”

  “Oh, well, I don’t know if it was the same driver. Completely different vehicle. Last week, Spicer and I nearly got clipped by a black Mercedes that peeled out of there.”

  “Spicer?” Bennett said.

  Vera nodded to the dog.

  “You don’t know who it was?” Belinda squinted as the sun came back out from behind a cloud.

  “Couldn’t make out the driver. But they were in a hurry.”

  Belinda mulled that over, wondering if it might coincide with the theft. They had a wide timeline for when it might have happened. She smiled. “Well, we’ll let you get back to walking Spicer.”

  Spicer took off, and Vera waved as the dog tried to leap beyond the leash. “Lovely meeting you!” Vera called back. Belinda waved until Vera and Spicer turned a corner.

  “I hate those dogs,” Bennett muttered.

  “You know, I think Sylvia has a Mercedes.” Belinda crossed her arms, facing Bennett. “Based on your surveillance, what do you think of Janelle’s wedding present story?”

  “Astonishing. Unless she’s hiding him somewhere, I haven’t seen any signs of a boyfriend or a fiancé.”

  Belinda pinched her lips together, taking Bennett’s offered hand. “Sylvia told me she overheard Janelle arguing on the phone with her boyfriend. She thought they had money problems.” The inconsistency between boyfriend and fiancé was interesting, especially considering the money in the desk drawer and Sylvia’s accusation against Janelle.