Auf'd (The Belinda & Bennett Mysteries, Book Two) Read online

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  Bennett dug through Belinda's jacket pockets, searching for a peppermint, but his fingers had turned to jelly and he fumbled around, cursing his slipping composure. And more to the point, Sawyer Gallen for tainting Belinda's lips.

  He came up with a crumpled straw wrapper, a folded movie ticket stub (why had she folded it?), and finally his fingers grazed something smooth and cool. Her credit card? That was a foolish place to leave it. Bennett pulled it out, flipping it over. It wasn't her credit card. It was...a hotel key card. Portside Inn. Heat rushed to Bennett's head as he read the note stuck to one side of the card. After party. Room 12.

  She kissed Sawyer, and now this.

  "Did you find it?" Belinda said from behind.

  Bennett concealed the key card and note in his hand and swiveled to see Belinda, all doe-eyed and flushed though paler than when she'd run upstairs.

  Bennett shook his head, his fist clenched around the card to keep from shaking. "It's not there."

  She looked unhappy. "Maybe there's one in my purse." The thought was more for her than him so he didn't answer. She exhaled loudly and forced a smile. Now was not the time or place to discuss what had happened—that much was on her face. But she looked like she was trying to smooth things over as best she could for now.

  She seemed sincerely upset. Was that because she didn't like what happened, or because he'd caught them in action?

  Belinda took his arm, the one not holding the key card, and searched his eyes. "If you're done with all this," she whispered, "you don't have to stay till the bitter end. I'll be alright."

  Bennett's eyes flicked to Sawyer chatting up one of the female assistants. "I'll stay." Belinda's eyes brightened and she looked relieved that he said so.

  He tried to relax and started to guide her to the food on the other side of the room to bring the color back to her cheeks. When they came near the door, the stairs leading down to the main shop creaked like a stampede running up. They all turned to see Mr. Sykes filling up the entryway, breathing in and out rapidly, his dark eyes searching the room with clenched fists. Belinda sucked in a breath, whispering, "Oh, no." She looked like her worst nightmare was coming true. Bennett took a stance in front of her just in case.

  Mrs. Sykes micro-ran over, her face panic-stricken, but she was eager to avoid a scene and held out champagne to her husband. Mr. Sykes slapped it from her hand.

  "Albert," she said. "Please. Not now."

  "Quiet! I'm not here to see you."

  All conversation stopped, and Bennett took a step forward. Things were going to get worse, he could feel it.

  Sawyer stepped over from the center of the room, stopping next to Mrs. Sykes. "Why don't we go outside?" he said calmly. A little strange, even if the two of them were involved somehow.

  It seemed innocent, but Mr. Sykes exploded, grabbing Sawyer by the shirt collar. "I'll make you pay, you little fraud! Every last dime."

  Not that Bennett didn't enjoy the thought of choking Sawyer to death, but this was getting out of hand, and Belinda was on the line too.

  Bennett grabbed Mr. Sykes' wrist and forced his arm behind his back, putting his face right up to Sykes' ear so no one else could hear what he said. "You need to start thinking, or you're going to be the one paying him—in court." That threat worked its magic. Apparently the thought of more court fees scared him into relaxing.

  "Later," Mr. Sykes growled at Sawyer.

  Bennett let go and Mr. Sykes glared one last time at Sawyer and his wife before barreling back out.

  Sawyer straightened out his vest and tie, nodding his thanks to Bennett.

  Bennett glowered back. He couldn't deal with what happened now. But he would later.

  A warm, slender arm pushed through his, and Belinda whispered her thanks into his ear, leaning her head against his shoulder. She looked pale and tired and relieved.

  "What was that about?" he whispered.

  Belinda piled the mini meatballs on an appetizer plate. "I'm not really sure. But he showed up all angry at the show too."

  "Angry at Sawyer?" Bennett checked to make sure they were out of hearing range.

  "No." Satisfied with her skyscraper of meatballs, they moved into a corner. "Mr. Sykes was mad about the cost of the catering or something. Maybe it's just the divorce."

  Bennett might have agreed if Mr. Sykes hadn't called Sawyer a fraud. From that accusation and Belinda's observation, he doubted Sawyer was involved with Mrs. Sykes in the obvious way. It sounded more financial, which made him curious. Maybe he just wanted an excuse to blame Sawyer, but fraud and money in the same sentence sounded suspicious. Maybe Sawyer and Mrs. Sykes were into something illegal.

  The night wore on and by bitter end, Belinda meant the bitter end. She clung to him the rest of the party, until Bennett saw her to her Mini Cooper.

  "Talk to you tomorrow?" she said, hesitating to get in.

  "Sure," Bennett responded automatically, consumed with watching Sawyer climb into a sports car. The key card burned in his back pocket, and he knew what he was about to do. He waved Belinda off, and hoofed it back to his truck before Sawyer was out of sight.

  He followed Sawyer back to his lodging—the Portside Inn—and hopped out, sneaking into the lobby and shadowing Sawyer to his room. He waited a minute and slid the key card into the door slot. His heart thumped against his chest as he pulled it back.

  Green lights.

  Bile rose in his throat when his fingers pressed the handle and the door clicked open. Bennett entered Sawyer's room, just staring at the oak dresser and four-poster bed.

  "I had a hunch you'd come." Sawyer's hand froze on his cuff button, his blue eyes cornered like a rabbit. "Oh, crap."

  Bennett seized his throat, forcing Sawyer against the doorframe to the bathroom. Sawyer spluttered for air, trying to pry Bennett's fingers away. After choking him long enough he figured, Bennett shoved him into the bathroom and pulled the oak dresser in front of the door, panting as it groaned along.

  "Find your way out of that," he said to the door.

  Sawyer coughed in reply.

  He'd made enough noise for a snoozy inn, but he had one more thing to do. Bennett flipped through Sawyer's phone, scanning his contacts, e-mails, and photos for any signs of Belinda. Or better yet, proof Sawyer killed April Arteau. If he was a fraud somehow and April found out, maybe he killed her to keep her from spreading the word.

  He paused his scan of Sawyer's photos when he saw Belinda's assistant, Brooke, sans glasses, smooshed up against Sawyer in a bad picture he took himself. It was tough to discern where they were, but they were both dressed up. Bennett went back to the contacts. He'd flown through them, only concerned with Belinda, but now he paused and expanded one entry. The face belonged to Brooke, though she looked a bit different with her hair down and no glasses. But Brooke was not the name Sawyer had listed with her entry.

  Someone pounded on the door. "Mr. Gallen, is everything okay?"

  Bennett left the phone where he found it, forced open a window and ran down the fire escape, leaping into the alley below.

  That woman had worked closely with Belinda for weeks. She was associated with Sawyer Gallen, who was clearly a snake, and she was using a different name. He wished he'd gone ahead and done a background check when Belinda insisted it wasn't necessary. Bennett tried to remember seeing Brooke at the party that night. He'd been distracted, but he still couldn't recall even glimpsing her from a distance.

  Who was Brooke really? And what was she doing working for Belinda?

  Chapter 8

  Belinda sat outside Bennett's house for a minute to get herself together after pulling into the driveway. She'd been a nervous wreck the whole morning trying to get her thoughts—and entire self—in a state to go see him. Then she'd been shaky and mentally flighty all the way over in anticipation.

  She could barely sleep the night before worrying what Bennett thought about the whole scene with Sawyer. She hadn't been able to tell if he was angry wi
th her or Sawyer—or both of them—and he was distant the rest of the night and seemed distracted when they parted.

  After taking a few moments to check her face in the car mirror and gather her purse, Belinda drew in a deep breath and walked into the open garage, knocking on the inside door. Bennett opened it in surprise, wearing a white T-shirt with some sort of fading brand logo written across it and jeans. They had matching dark circles under their eyes, so apparently Bennett hadn't slept well either. And he had lemon face and Sawyer was no where in sight.

  She kissed his cheek, but his face was just as solemn when she pulled away. "Rough day?" she said, stroking his hair.

  "Night, actually."

  Belinda inhaled deeply, struggling with a way to broach the subject. She'd thought about it the whole way over, but there wasn't really a nice, discreet segue into "So, about Sawyer kissing me last night."

  Before she could fumble her way into the topic, Bennett pulled away and without a word walked over to the kitchen island. Belinda followed, and when he turned around, he held out a blue and white plastic card. Belinda accepted it, flipping it over. The words Portside Inn filled one side. "What's this?" she said.

  "Don't you recognize it?" His voice—and when she looked up, his gray eyes too—were rough.

  Belinda looked at him warily. "No. Am I supposed to?"

  Bennett's eyes constricted. "I would think so. I found it in your pocket last night—along with a note. After party. Room 12." He held up the sticky note.

  When had he been in her pockets? Oh...oh, that's right. When she asked him to find the peppermint. But that still didn't explain where the card came from. "I still don't recognize it. It's not mine."

  Bennett's mouth squished up as his jaw and cheekbones tightened. Sometimes it looked hot. Right then, it just scared her. He pinched the card, his voice low and raspy. "It goes to Sawyer's room."

  Belinda blinked. "How do you know that?"

  "It doesn't matter. Why do you have a key to his room?"

  She was still pondering how Bennett knowing the card opened Sawyer's room didn't matter. "I don't." Belinda watched his eyes constrict even more. How was that possible?

  "His key was in your pocket." He shook the note. "Do you think I'm a fool?"

  "Bennett," Belinda said softly, and calmly considering her hammering heart. "You know I don't think that. And you know that I don't lie to you, and I'm not good at it anyway. I can't explain why that card was in my pocket last night, but I didn't put it there." She tried to think of any possible reason it ended up there. "Maybe somebody confused my jacket with theirs."

  "How well do you actually know Sawyer?" His face didn't soften at all. Apparently he didn't hear or was refusing to acknowledge her probable reason for the key card landing in her pocket.

  Belinda quelled her nerves. She just needed to keep her cool. "About as well as you do. You know that."

  "Have you ever been in his room?"

  Belinda recoiled in disgust. "Of course not!"

  "Then why did you have his key card?" His voice rose.

  Belinda took a deep breath. Was he not listening to her? She'd just explained why! Or, at least, offered a viable reason. "No one gave me that card, Bennett. I don't know why it was in my jacket. All I can tell you is that it doesn't belong to me and I've certainly never been in his room."

  He retracted his hand, stretching taller in the same motion. "I saw you kiss him. And you admitted you went to see him at the jazz club."

  Belinda shifted her weight, fighting the urge to cross her arms over her chest. The jazz club. Not her super ultimate idea of the week. "He kissed me. And I pushed him away immediately."

  Bennett's eyes flashed and he pinched the note. "So you could continue later without me getting in the way?"

  "What? No!" Belinda was trying hard to weigh her words, but he was making it harder and harder. Had he lost his mind? Was he on medication? Did he need to be on medication? "I'm not involved with Sawyer."

  Bennett's jaw twitched.

  She felt like they were just two big-horned rams lunging at each other at this point. As much as she wanted this settled now, Bennett wasn't listening to her. "Maybe we should talk about this later."

  "So you can come up with a better lie?"

  "No!" She sighed in exasperation. "So you'll actually listen to what I'm saying." Belinda slung her purse over her shoulder. "I'm sorry, but I don't know where the key card came from. And I think we should wait and discuss this when we've calmed down."

  "I'm perfectly calm."

  Belinda refrained from making a snarky comment on that. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

  Bennett didn't respond. Belinda took a deep breath and left.

  Belinda left Bennett's more of a shaky wreck than when she got there. She had a gazillion things on her list to concentrate on that day, but all she could think about now was Bennett. And the key card. And the fact that Bennett somehow knew the key card went to Sawyer's room.

  If he saw Sawyer after the cocktail party, did Sawyer tell him they were involved? Belinda's head steamed with that notion. But she had no idea what to do about any of it.

  Her head was still a mess later that afternoon when she arrived at the music school where Victoria taught. Victoria wanted a small audience for one of her students so she could practice her piece for the spring recital before sitting in front of a full auditorium, so Belinda volunteered. As she marched up the stairs of the brick building searching for the right room, she figured it was just as well she had plans. She'd accomplished little and the distraction might do her good.

  The building was technically an offshoot of her old private school campus. Though the two weren't directly affiliated, they had a long-standing professional relationship. The more gifted music students were encouraged to train here.

  Belinda knew the floorboards squeaked, but she couldn't hear it for the cacophony of instruments playing around her. A violin and clarinet were the only two she could distinguish by name as she passed each closed door.

  She found the room, and Victoria and her student. After a quick introduction, the girl sat down at the piano to warm up. She stretched her fingers over the keys first, her long blonde braid swaying on her back. Belinda guessed she was about ten.

  The door knob squeaked and Mrs. Sykes came in. Belinda gave Victoria a puzzled look, but Victoria didn't look confused at all.

  "Adrianna's mom had an appointment this afternoon," Mrs. Sykes said, shutting the door behind her. "So I volunteered to come."

  "She mentioned that," Victoria said and smiled. "We're just getting started."

  Mrs. Sykes beamed and gave a quick wave to Adrianna. She noticed Belinda sitting by the door, but kept talking while she joined her like she knew it all along. "Adrianna's my granddaughter."

  "Ooohhh..." Belinda said. "She's amazing." Of course, she didn't actually know that yet, though she assumed as much since the girl studied here with Victoria.

  "Isn't she, though? I don't know where it comes from!" She flipped her shoulder-length hair back in a way that told Belinda she knew exactly where Adrianna's Amazing Gene came from.

  Adrianna finished her scales and did her finger-stretching thing again before starting the actual piece. Belinda wondered if it was more a physical or mental exercise.

  Mrs. Sykes nudged her gently with her elbow. "Aidan will be at the recital, you know."

  Belinda didn't know, and she struggled to come up with a suitable reply. So she said, "Ooohhh," her brand new default response. She had no clue what had become of Aidan Sykes post-high school. He was hardly even a dot on her radar then, and she thought the feeling was mutual. "I guess I'll see him at the recital."

  "You'll be there?" Mrs. Sykes said innocently. "You'll get to see him then too." She smiled brightly and...knowingly.

  "Too?" Belinda folded her arms to keep from grabbing her phone when it blipped. What if it was Bennett?

  "He's coming in early, so he'll be at the pool party." Mrs. Sykes straightened up,
very satisfied with her work. "You two can catch up."

  Belinda shut her lips before she said "ooohhh" again and simply nodded like it was the most fantastic thing she'd heard all week. Not that Aidan would care to see her again either, but still. She had enough man trouble without having to dodge some mother's attempts at a setup.

  Mrs. Sykes' phone rang and her face went dark. She pressed ignore and dropped it back in her purse. Belinda was just going to pretend she hadn't seen that, but Mrs. Sykes smiled and shrugged. "Albert. He likes to harass me a few times a day. Usually about the business or money—or both. He's always after me for spending too much." She smiled. "But you saw that firsthand, didn't you?"

  Belinda smiled apologetically. The Sykes owned a pet boutique in Portside, which Belinda had heard was rather empty of late due to Mr. Sykes manning it because of the divorce. Speculation flew through Portside's social circles about what would become of Posh Pets once the divorce was final.

  Ironically, the Sykes never owned any pets.

  "I'm sorry Albert has been such a scene through this whole event." Mrs. Sykes patted Belinda's knee like she was five. "But you've been such a sport! I couldn't have pulled this all off without you."

  No kidding, Belinda thought.

  "You're a credit to your parents," she went on. "But you know, it's not always the kids who fail the parents. Sometimes it's the other way around."

  "I'm sorry." Belinda felt like she needed to say something and that was the only response she could come up with. "About...everything."

  "Don't be." Mrs. Sykes set her shoulders back. "If it wasn't for me, Albert wouldn't even have a business right now. No one in Portside would have stepped foot in our shop if I hadn't manned the front when we first opened." Her jaw tightened.

  Belinda kept perfectly still, nodding and striving to look sympathetic. She had no response to any of this, and wasn't emotionally prepared to play therapist right then.

  Mrs. Sykes pulled out some mints and offered Belinda one. "But no matter. It'll all be over soon enough." She smiled and went back to focusing on her amazing granddaughter.