Cliffhanger (The Belinda & Bennett Mysteries, Book One) by Amy Saunders Page A

helped him
into the back of the police car.
    Belinda could
only watch from a distance, feeling more helpless than she ever had, and she'd
felt pretty helpless in the past.
    "Do you have
anyone you can call?" Jonas said with a less official tone.
    "Our parents
are on a cruise."
    He nodded in
understanding. "Will you be okay?"
    "I...I
think. I'm not the type to go into hysterics if that's what you mean."
    Jonas smiled.
"I didn't believe so." He dug his hands in his pockets, staring at
the grass. "This is entirely off record of course, but I would call
Bennett if I were you." Jonas nodded to her, slipped into the passenger's
side of one of the patrol cars, and ambled away. Once they were out of earshot,
she could only hear the distant whining of a landscaping tool and her own
heartbeat.
    Before she'd
opened the door to the police, Belinda had felt hurt, but now she was on the
verge of a complete meltdown. Kyle had shut the door in her face, refusing to
open up and tell her exactly what happened. And now this. And their parents
were out of the country. Belinda had just told the detective she wouldn't go
into hysterics. Well, maybe she'd lied.
    Belinda stood
there in a daze for a few minutes, thinking numbly whether she was actually in
a dream. Deciding that was a lost cause, she plodded back into the house and up
the stairs, her steps seeming to echo louder than before, and flipped open her
computer. She typed in Tate Security and called Bennett.
     
    He made it to her
house in insanely good time, less put together than she was used to. His short
hair spiked out in all directions, and he'd buttoned his shirt wrong. Still in
a daze, Belinda automatically started to fix it for him.
    "Jonas
suggested I call you," she said, struggling with the last button. Bennett
waited patiently as she forced it through the slot, maybe too surprised to
offer to help.
    She flattened out
his shirt panel so the buttons aligned properly, his skin peeking out through
the gap, and patted down the material gently. As she started buttoning it back,
Belinda realized what on earth she was doing and got nervous, fumbling with her
task. Bennett took her hands, now shaking, and walked her over to the kitchen
island, helping her onto a stool.
    "It's harder
from the outside," she mumbled, trying to relax.
    Bennett finished
buttoning his shirt. "Do you have a lawyer you can call?"
    "Yes."
    "Well, you
should." Bennett frowned. "I know some of what's going on here and
it's not in your brother's favor. They found evidence that he'd been on the
cliff. Paint particles I think. And they believe Kyle and Jeff got into a fight."
    Belinda wrung her
hands. "The scratch on his arm..."
    "Yeah."
Bennett's mouth gaped like he was about to say something else but changed his
mind.
    "What?"
    "The car
that rammed you was a rental."
    "So, in
other words, it doesn't help?"
    "No, they
found out who it was rented to." Bennett averted his eyes.
    "Who?"
Belinda said suspiciously. She had a feeling she wasn't going to like his
answer.
    "Your
brother."
    Belinda shook
trying to squash down the rage in her chest. "No."
    She was barely
audible, but from the redness in her face to her stiff upper body, Bennett had
gotten the response he anticipated.
    Belinda walked
around the kitchen island, randomly opening up kitchen cabinets, which were all
empty. Her hands shook while she poured water into a glass and her cheeks
tightened. She was about to cry, wasn't she?
    After barely
managing to gulp down one drink of water, it started. Belinda was obviously
trying hard not to lose it, but she was also obviously losing the battle.
Before he could think of what to do, she ran from the room and up the nearby
staircase. He heard a door slam and then...nothing. Bennett stood in the
kitchen, torn on what to do.
    After going back
and forth, he decided to wait downstairs. He didn't want to leave her like
that, not with her brother under arrest. So he sat down at their kitchen island
and opened the notebook