Belinda Blake and the Birds of a Feather

by Heather Day Gilbert

  I glanced into the kitchen and saw Mom, sitting on one of the kitchen chairs. Ella had tied a long cloth around Mom’s mouth, mashing her disheveled curls against her face. Her hands were tied behind the chair. Her eyes met mine, her desperate look pleading with me not to do anything stupid.

  Sadly, that wasn’t going to happen.

  Mom was alive, and that was all I needed to see.

  Holding the tire iron behind my back, even though part of it was probably visible, I shouted at Ella. “You’re a coward, you know that? You’re going to attack my mom, but she has nothing to do with your vengeance!”

  Ella smiled. “This wasn’t about your mom, silly. I wanted you to come over. You’re the one who knows too much.”

  “But now my mom knows, too. And so does everyone else, because I told them.”

  She pulled a pouty face. “But I’m just a child, Belinda,” she said. “No one is going to believe I did all those things. And don’t worry, I plan to shoot your mom, too, and make it look like you did it. It’ll be kind of ironic that the great Belinda Blake will go down for being a murderer herself, won’t it?”

  She glanced back at Mom and I took my chance. I rushed at her, wielding my tire iron. I’d go for her hand first and knock the gun out. Then I’d smash her with the tire iron for good measure—where exactly I’d hit her, I didn’t even care.

  As I raised the iron and Ella raised the gun, Jonas suddenly rushed her from behind, tackling her to the ground. I grabbed the revolver that skidded from her grasp, then jerked my head up as a crash sounded in the kitchen.

  Mom, who’d apparently tried to make a move toward Ella about the same time I did, had tipped her chair over not far from Jonas. She was lying face-down on the floor and groaning.

  Jonas had already pulled Ella to her feet. One of his strong arms wrapped around her, pinning both her arms to her sides.

  I kept the gun trained on Ella while I backed over toward Mom and hefted her chair upright. As I was tugging the cloth from her mouth, the police burst in.

  Jonas passed Ella over to them, and she was promptly placed in handcuffs. I handed over the revolver while an officer cut my mom loose.

  Adrian, who’d been standing just outside the front door, came inside and stared at his sister as if he’d never seen her before.

  “Adrian, tell them this is all a mistake,” Ella begged. She started crying. “They have the wrong person. You have to tell them what you saw, that Peter Bear killed our sister.”

  “But he didn’t,” Adrian said. “I talked to him today and told him what I’d seen that night. He explained that it wasn’t what I thought. Claire had discovered that Rosalee and Peter were seeing each other, and she confronted them. When Peter admitted that he’d fallen for Rosalee, Claire stepped onto the tracks, saying she couldn’t live without Peter’s love. Peter wasn’t trying to shove her down, he was trying to pull her off before the train came.” He took a deep breath, an incredulous look on his face. “Claire committed suicide, Ella. Peter was trying to protect us from that knowledge, all these years.”

  Ella gave an unearthly scream. “No! He’s lying! He did it!”

  Tracy van Dusen rushed into the front door and pulled her daughter close, finally protective of her renegade teen. “Hush, Ella. Don’t say anything else. I’m going to get you a lawyer. Daddy’s flying home early, and he’ll know what to do.”

  I doubted anyone could save Ella now, but part of me wished there was a way she could be rehabilitated. Did teen murderers ever successfully rejoin society, I wondered? I’d have to ask Katrina.

  Mom came over and slipped her arm around me, so I let myself relax into her side. Jonas stood a ways in front of us with his feet wide apart and his arms crossed, giving the impression of a human barricade.

  I realized my nearest and dearest had flocked to my side when I needed them most, almost like homing pigeons. Mom had struggled to try to protect me from Ella, despite her bound state. And if Jonas hadn’t snuck in the back door to tackle Ella, I would have been shot.

  Gratitude and relief washed over me. It was a good thing I was leaning against Mom, because my knees nearly buckled.

  I promised the police officer that I would come down to the station and give a statement this evening, once I was feeling a bit more steady. Everyone cleared out of the house except Mom and Jonas, who both seemed to focus on me. Mom started making grilled cheese sandwiches because she said my blood sugar was probably low, and Jonas led me over to the couch, where he covered my legs with a blanket.

  Without a word, he sat down right next to me and placed a large, calming hand on my knee. We both looked out the front window as the final police car pulled away.

  “I so wanted to be there at eleven to talk with you,” I started. “But things happened—so many things. I was locked in the church fellowship hall. Then I got out and went to the van Dusens’ place and ran into Ella. She told me everything about the murders she’d committed, Jonas.” I fought back tears that welled up. “It was…horrifying.”

  He turned to meet my eyes. I was taken aback when I saw the blue fire blazing in his. He placed his hands on my shoulders and pulled me into a protective hug. “You don’t have to explain,” he said, his voice more rugged than I’d ever heard it. He pressed my head close, tucking it under his chin. I could feel the deep vibrations of his voice as he said, “Forget scheduling a talk. This is our talk. Belinda, I love you.”

  I didn’t budge from my warm spot beneath his chin, nuzzling closer to his tantalizing smell.

  “I love you, too,” I murmured into his neck. It was as natural as saying good morning to my parents.

  He released me and I met his wondering gaze. “You do?” he asked. “But what about Stone?”

  I’d put a lot of thought into figuring out how I really felt about Stone Carrington the fifth, so I was eager to explain. “Stone’s a friend, but he’s not a friend like you. He’s more like a brother.”

  “But he brought you those flowers, and he took you for a ride in that car—”

  “And those were nice gestures, but they aren’t the kind of thing that impresses me for long.”

  Jonas fingered a curl on my temple, the rough pads of his fingers a direct contrast to his gentle touch. “What does impress you?” he whispered.

  I glanced over at Mom, who was clattering around, dumping cans of soup in a saucepan. I knew she was covertly watching our every move.

  I leaned in toward him, my voice lowered. “Men who stay loyal to their families. Farmers who can pick up calves like they weigh nothing, yet discuss books like they’re professors. Someone who knows me better than I know myself, who lets me be myself, but who has my back when I do highly inadvisable things.”

  He smiled. “And I’m impressed by women who hold their own whether they’re taking on a murderer or sitting in back of a stinky truck, transporting a calf back to the barn. The kind of woman who can run her own business, but who has a heart so big, she’ll drop her work to care for a friend’s orphaned homing pigeons.” He got quieter. “Someone who hears the words I don’t even speak.”

  He stopped, very slowly and deliberately moving his face toward mine. Closing my eyes, I met his lips and fell into a long kiss that was equal parts comforting and thrilling.

  That kiss was home to me.

  There was a brief rustling as Mom whisked over to us with bowls of soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, her timing impeccable. I didn’t know if she wanted us to explain ourselves, but given the beaming smile on her face, she’d already approved of the progression of our relationship.

  I knew one thing—I wasn’t heading back to Greenwich anytime today. I needed more time to spend with Jonas, getting to know this neighbor who had owned my heart for some time now.

  25

  After we ate, Jonas wrapped an arm around me, and I drifted off. When I woke up, my back had gotten stiff
and Jonas had fallen asleep, too. Yet his arm was still draped around my shoulders. I reluctantly woke him, knowing he would get behind on chores if he didn’t get going. He said he’d throw feed to the homing pigeons today and then tomorrow morning I could come over and give him more specifics about taking care of them.

  I walked Jonas out to his truck, which he’d hidden behind a grove of trees. I found that I didn’t want to let him go. It was a strange new feeling, being attached. I gave him a long hug and kiss and said I’d see him in the morning.

  I wandered back inside to find Mom talking to Dad on the phone. “No, don’t come home early,” she said. “I have a couple of crias I need to feed and get settled. That’ll keep me occupied. And Belinda’s here.”

  I was struck by how strong my mom was, especially after being tied up by a killer in her own kitchen. I also thought it was cute how my dad was ready to leave work early just to be with her. I wondered if Mom had called Katrina while I was asleep, but I couldn’t fathom talking to my sister right now, especially if she asked about Jonas.

  Instead, I gave Chloe a call. This would be a whopper of a story, and I wanted to be the first to share it with her. After all, she’d let me tag along to question suspects, and in the end, I suppose my questions had paid off…even though I had inadvertently turned myself into bait for the killer.

  She picked up immediately. “Belinda! What happened? Gavin said he heard that they picked up Ella van Dusen at your parents’ house and she admitted to being the literature club killer? Does he have his wires completely crossed? She’s only a kid!”

  There it was again, the defense Ella had been counting on. The fact that had protected her for so long and had made it easy for her to direct suspicion elsewhere. She was a teenager.

  But she was also a murderer.

  “He’s completely right,” I said, and told her how Ella had confessed to killing three people in a misguided attempt to avenge her sister. I recommended that Chloe interview Peter Bear and Adrian, but I didn’t mention Tracy van Dusen. I couldn’t imagine what it had done to her to discover that her daughter had killed the members of the literature club.

  Strangely enough, it seemed that Adrian had roused from his depressed stupor when he had to face the fact that he’d let Ella down. I suspected he would be there in the future for Ella, no matter what sentence she received. Maybe he would be able to make his way in the world, after all.

  I let Chloe ask me all the questions she wanted for her story, so by the time we concluded the call, the overcast sky was already darkening. I wanted to make a meal for Mom and Dad before I had to go back to Greenwich, so I raced downstairs and got busy cooking. By the time Dad came home and Mom came in from working with her baby alpacas, I had made a pot of taco soup and some cornbread muffins.

  At supper, I came right out and told Dad that Jonas and I were now romantically interested in each other. I could feel Mom smiling at me across the table, but I kept my eyes on Dad to watch his reaction.

  Dad spread butter on his cornbread muffin, then he spoke. “Jonas is a level-headed man. I’m thankful he came over today to protect you and Mom. You chose well, Belinda.”

  I felt like Indiana Jones when he chose the right cup as the Holy Grail. Jonas wasn’t the kind of man I’d have to convince my family to like—they already loved him. For the first time in my dating life, I didn’t have to try to explain my love interest to my parents.

  It felt ridiculously right.

  I called Jonas after dark, when I knew he’d be back inside. We talked for a couple of hours, but my eyelids were drooping, so I had to tell him I was phasing out fast.

  “You’re still in shock,” he said. “You need to get to bed, so you’re ready for your trip tomorrow.”

  “I appreciate that you haven’t tried to talk me out of going back to Greenwich,” I said.

  He laughed. “Not yet.”

  * * * *

  The next morning, the skies were clear and filled with sunshine that belied the fact that November was here and a cold winter would be nipping at its heels. I grabbed some bacon and a hug from Dad, then I jumped on my four-wheeler and drove over to Jonas’s.

  Jonas wasn’t outside when I drove up, so I went to his back door and knocked. He opened the door in a T-shirt and jeans, gripping a steaming mug.

  He invited me to come in and join him for coffee, so I accepted. It felt natural to watch him moving around the familiar kitchen, as if we’d done this a thousand times before. Only this time, I noticed that he kept throwing glances at me. Had he always done this and I’d been blind to it? I’d wondered for so long if he’d cared for me the way I did for him. I probably should’ve just come right out and asked him, like Katrina had recommended, but in the end, it seemed things had worked out exactly as they were supposed to.

  He handed me a cup of coffee and set the creamer on the table for me. “Thanks for coming over before you left.” He almost looked shy, which floored me. Jonas Hawthorne was never shy or weak…did I actually have that kind of power over him? If so, it was no wonder I felt intoxicated.

  “Of course. Although I can’t promise those homing pigeons will love you as much as they loved me,” I joked.

  Instead of laughing, Jonas got quiet. Had I said something wrong?

  “If you ever want to take care of them on a long-term basis, we could work that out,” he said.

  I sipped at my coffee. “What exactly are you saying, Jonas?”

  His eyes flickered up to mine. “I was just thinking…have you ever considered moving back to Larches Corner?”

  “I have, but why are you asking?”

  He stretched a large hand out and placed it over mine. “I was hoping we might have time to…I don’t know, date, I guess? Get to know each other.”

  I flipped my hand up to grasp his, loving the feel of his fingers entwined with mine. “But we already know each other,” I said.

  He picked up his chair with his free hand and scooted it closer to me. His voice was earnest as he said, “I want time with you, Belinda. Time to make our own memories. We can’t do that if you’re in Greenwich.”

  Jonas could be a powerful persuader when he wanted to be, and I felt myself getting sucked into his plan. Yes, of course I wanted time to make memories with him. Far more than I cared about maintaining my pet-sitting business in Greenwich.

  I managed to resist his pull, because I knew it had to be my decision. If I moved back home, it had to be when I was good and ready. And I knew I wasn’t yet.

  “I’ll think about it,” I said honestly. “Please know that I want time with you, more than anything. But for now, that might have to look like talking on the phone with you every day. I still have some things I need to do in Greenwich.”

  He sat back and gave me a long, thoughtful look. He took another drink of coffee. “Of course,” he said finally.

  Although he didn’t say another word, I had the distinct impression that he had taken into account my fly-by-night personality and my tendency to make snap decisions and he’d decided that I would, indeed, move back to Larches Corner the moment I took a notion to.

  I leaned in and kissed his coffee-flavored lips. “Has anyone ever told you how attractive you are when you’re so serious?” I put a finger to his lips. “No, wait, don’t tell me or I’d have to kill her.”

  “No one,” he murmured. “There’s never been anyone for me but you.”

  * * * *

  We went out to the pigeon loft, and I explained the ins and outs of caring for them, although I had the feeling Jonas didn’t really need my play-by-play as to how to care for animals. He was the kind of guy who just knew those kinds of things. But he paid close attention and asked me a few questions as we went along.

  We sat and I watched the birds swirling around one more time. Maybe he’d find a buyer for them while I was gone.

  My thoughts dr
ifted over to Peter Bear and the literature club. “They were like the pigeons,” I said.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Peter and the club members. They all watched as Claire stepped onto those tracks. They all knew Peter couldn’t have saved her in time. They made the decision not to mention there’d been a club meeting that night—whether to protect themselves from police suspicion or to protect the van Dusens from the truth, I don’t know. But they flocked together to ward off further pain, just like the homing pigeons stay together to ward off their predators.”

  “It’s sad that Claire was really the one to inflict all that damage on her own family and friends,” Jonas mused.

  “I’m sure Mom and her Bible study ladies will check in on Tracy soon,” I said. “And you know, strangely enough, Peter Bear and Adrian seem to have moved past their animosity. Now that the truth is out, maybe things can start to heal.”

  “For everyone but Ella,” Jonas said.

  I watched as the flock shifted up and expanded their circle. I thought of the Ella I had first met, the one who was considering career choices and who’d enjoyed swinging as high as she could. Maybe that Ella was still there and she just needed time to heal, as well.

  “I’m going to try to go see her, maybe over Thanksgiving,” I said, almost daring him to oppose me.

  “I’ll go with you,” he said.

  I kept my eyes on the sky, but I reached out to take his hand.

  26

  Ava Fenton called as I drove back to Greenwich, so I put her on speakerphone and filled her in as to why my return had been delayed for so long. I gave her time to exclaim over my near-fatal run-in with a murderer, then I tried to change the subject and asked about Adam’s brick oven party.

  She said it had gone okay, although Leo Cushing had showed up, even without an invitation. After he’d practically proposed to one of their already-married friends, Adam Fenton had driven him home and banned him from ever stepping foot on their property again.

  “Although, speaking of marriage,” Ava said, “I heard through the grapevine that Stone the fifth took a little jaunt upstate, maybe to see you? Did any sparks fly?”