A Deadly Engagement

by Danielle Collins

  Margot resisted the urge to turn away so her gaze wouldn’t betray the truth. She didn’t want to lie to her assistant—especially when Dexter was like her little brother—but she couldn’t betray her word to Adam that she wouldn't say anything.

  Just then, the phone rang and Margot jerked her gaze to the front room where Rosie had just picked up the ringer.

  “Margot,” she said, shuffling through the swinging door, “it’s for you. Don’t sound too good.”

  Despite the fact that it could be bad news, Margot was thankful for the distraction from Dexter’s question. She stepped forward to accept the phone, brushing off her floury fingers on her apron before accepting the device. “Hello?”

  Behind her she felt rather than saw Dexter and Julia step back into the small kitchen, as if drawn by the possibility of bad news.

  Please, don’t let it be about Adam.

  “Margot?”

  “Yes, this is she.”

  “This is Officer Main.”

  Her whole body froze. Why were the police calling her? “Wh-what’s going on, Officer Main?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. This is not about Detective Eastwood,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. “Just to clarify.”

  She let out the breath she’d been holding. “Then what is it?”

  “We have found a burning car at the south end of town and I was instructed to call you by Detective Mabry.”

  Her thoughts raced to catch up. A burning car? Why call her? If it wasn’t Adam, who was it? And why was Adam’s partner having this officer call her?

  “I was told to inform you that it looks like the car belonged to a Mister Bentley Anderson.”

  “B-Bentley?” Her voice was a whisper.

  “And whoever was in that car… Well, they’re gone now.”

  4

  Margot stood in a daze in the middle of the kitchen. Dexter reached out to grab her arm while Julia stepped in front of her, calling her name. Rosie stepped in the middle of it all, grabbed Margot by the shoulders, and shook her gently.

  “What is it, child?”

  Margot blinked and looked down at the phone in her hand. The call was still connected with the officer, but she was trying to reason what he’d said. Bentley was gone? In a burned car at the end of town?

  “B-Bentley,” she stuttered.

  “Hello?” Dexter said, protectively snatching the phone from Margot. “What’s going on?”

  Margot felt tears rush to her eyes at the thought of never getting to talk to Bentley again. Of missing their fun games of Scrabble and their long conversations about the law and what was going on in D.C. Of—

  “It’s not him then?”

  Margot snapped out of it, sound rushing back to her at Dexter’s words.

  “You really need to work on your delivery, man. Yeah, I’ll let her know.”

  “Let me know what?” Margot demanded.

  “That guy…” Dexter shook his head and set the phone on the table. “He meant to say that they found information in the car that links to a Bentley Anderson, but it’s not the Bentley Anderson you’re thinking of.”

  “What?” Margot was trying to comprehend what was going on. “Not…Bentley?”

  “The birthdates don’t match. Detective Mabry told that guy to call and ask you if Bentley had a son.”

  Now Margot’s eyes shot wide open. Her senses returned and she began to feel more grounded. It hadn’t been Bentley in that fire. He was all right.

  “A…son?” Her mind flashed back to the letter his ex-wife had given him. “I need to go see Bentley.”

  “He’s all right, Margot,” Dexter said, kindness in his eyes.

  She paused, resting her hand on Dexter’s arm. “I realize that. Thank you. I'm sorry for scaring you all.” She met Rosie’s gaze. “Can you take my croissants out when the timer goes off?”

  “Sure thing, sugar.” She nodded and went back to watch the front of the shop.

  “Have a good lunch. I’ll explain as soon as I can.”

  “Margot,” Julia said quickly, “Do you want us to take the treats for tonight?”

  “If you don’t mind, that would be very helpful.”

  “Of course, but—” Julia began, but, to the bemused glances of her two assistants, she grabbed her coat and purse and rushed out the door.

  On the drive to see Bentley, she tried to calm her racing nerves. She felt ashamed for all but walking out on her assistants, but she had to see Bentley. For a moment there, she’d almost thought he had died. Thankfully, Dexter had had enough peace of mind to clarify what the officer had been saying, but still…it had been a terrible few moments.

  Then again, it also solidified something for her. There was something strange going on. It wasn’t her imagination making up blue sedans or inventing strange maintenance men, there was something going on and she had a feeling it surrounded Bentley and his ex-wife, and she was going to uncover what that was.

  After scanning the parking lot for blue sedans, she raced up the steps two at a time to Bentley’s apartment and pounded on the door.

  “Hello— Oh, Margot! What are you doing here?” Bentley stepped back for her to enter, surprise evident on his wrinkled features.

  “There is something going on with your ex-wife and we need to figure out what.”

  Bentley turned wide eyes to her. “M-my ex-wife? What are you talking about?”

  She filled him in on what had happened since they’d last spoken, ending with, “And now a car belonging to a man who shares your name has turned up burned at the edge of town.”

  “I have a son?” Bentley said, looking shocked and a little pale.

  “Why don’t you sit down?” Margot said, gently guiding him to his favorite chair.

  “I…I guess that could have been what Lucy wanted to tell me and never did. It would make for a big mistake on her part, as the letter said. But I find it hard to believe. We weren’t married very long.”

  “Maybe she was pregnant when you got the divorce and just never told you?”

  “It sounds like something she’d do.” The bitterness in Bentley’s voice was tempered with years gone by, but it was still there. Margot again wondered what had happened, but it didn’t feel like her place to ask.

  Then, as if her words had finally registered, his attention jerked to hers. “Was he in the car?”

  Margot swallowed. “I don’t know. I wasn’t given many details.”

  “Adam didn’t say anything?”

  Adam. Why hadn’t she thought to call Adam and have him find out for her? Then again, she didn’t like the thought of bothering him while he was on a special assignment, but this was possibly Bentley’s son they were taking about. Practically family.

  “Let me call him.”

  She paced in the kitchen as the call connected. Waiting for Adam to pick up felt like a lifetime but finally, after four rings, she heard his breathless reply.

  “Hey, Margie, what is it?” His tone was quiet, but he’d used her nickname, so he wasn’t likely in an extremely serious situation.

  “They found a car burning at the edge of town. It’s…somehow connected to someone we think is Bentley’s son.” This statement took a bit of explaining, but she finally got to the core of her reason for calling. “Adam, we have to know… Was Bentley’s son in the car? I know they may not know yet, but is there any way you can call Les and have him find out?”

  Adam was silent for a moment, no doubt thinking through the procedure. “I’ll give Les a call. But I’m heading back to North Bank in twenty minutes anyway.”

  “You are?” She immediately felt relieved.

  “Yes. Finished up what I needed to. And just in time, it sounds like. I’ll be there. I’ll find out, okay? Tell Bentley not to borrow trouble, and you too.”

  She smiled, knowing the look he would have given her if he were standing in front of her now. “Will do, Detective Eastwood.” She almost grinned, though in this situation, it was hard to do that.


  “Love you, my Margie.”

  “You too,” she said, whispering it back from the depths of her heart.

  He hung up, and she returned to Bentley to explain what Adam had said. He took it with stoic grace and turned to look out the window. She knew from his posture that he needed to think through the news he’d received. As a once-great trial lawyer, he thought of things from every angle. She’d seen this before. He treated new information like new evidence in a trial case. He’d analyze it, flip it on its head, and think through every aspect until he’d come to a conclusion. At this point, she didn’t know what that conclusion could be, but she’d leave him to think.

  “Bentley, I’m going to go do some digging.”

  This drew his gaze to hers. “Into what?”

  “Your son. Now that we know roughly the age he would be now and the name—your name—I can complete a more thorough search. I’ll keep you posted the minute I hear anything.”

  “Thank you, Margot,” Bentley said, taking her hand in his worn ones and squeezing gently. “I’ll be here.”

  “Thinking. I know.” She offered him a bolstering smile, then turned to leave. She hated that he would be alone, but sometimes being alone was the best way to deal with loss—or in this case, potential loss of something you never knew you had.

  Margot left Bentley, her gaze subconsciously searching the area around the complex just in case the mysterious Felix Lynch showed up again. He wasn’t in sight nor was there a blue sedan nearby. In all of the shock of finding out about Bentley’s son and the burning car, she’d almost forgotten her fright at the possibility of being followed.

  Not smart, Margot. She knew if Adam had learned of the tailing blue car, he would have reminded her to check her surroundings at every turn. She needed to be more diligent.

  She checked behind her three times before backing up and then rushing home. No cars tailed her on the way and she made it inside without further incident. Once securely in her home, she pulled out her laptop and began her search, but this time, it was directed at Bentley Anderson.

  Or would it be Bentley Wolfe? Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, uncertain. Then she thought of what the officer had said. It seemed possible that Bentley’s son had chosen to take his father’s name.

  After a few tries with and without using Junior or II, she came up with something when she added in Texas, thinking back to his mother’s location of death.

  There were no pictures associated with the name, something that she found odd, but there was a Wikipedia page. When she clicked through, she saw that Bentley “Ben” Anderson was labeled a wealthy philanthropist who made it his goal to stay out of the limelight. He was heralded as one of the most influential backers of a cancer research facility in Texas, due to the health issues his mother had faced.

  The rest of the article detailed the little-known facts about his life, his parentage—of which ‘father’ was left blank—and his most current philanthropic exploits. Unfortunately, the article was dated several years prior and hadn’t been updated since.

  Then Margot tried using Ben Anderson and the town name, and jackpot!

  Hometown Hero turned Villain: Ben Anderson wanted for murder!

  Margot’s eyes flew wide and she clicked through to the article. It was a small, hometown paper from the town where Lucy Wolfe had lived until her death. As Margot read the article, she realized many of the details she needed were missing. It was a generalized few paragraphs of poor reporting that basically said someone had seen on the news that Bentley Anderson had been arrested for murder in West Virginia.

  Clicking away from the site offering only secondhand details of everything, she changed her search parameters and found something much more informative and closer in location.

  It was an article detailing an arrest warrant out for one Ben Anderson in conjunction with a burglary and murder at The Garber Resort in Granby Station, West Virginia. Margot’s stomach growled and she thought of ignoring her hunger, but then the slight pressure at her temples warned that if she didn't eat something soon, she’d regret it later with a headache.

  She took one last look at the headline then went to the kitchen to scavenge for something to eat. She ended up reheating the leftover veggie pizza and grabbing a diet soda before sitting back down at her computer. Balancing the plate on her knees, she leaned over and began to read the article.

  There was still a sore lack of information coming from the reporter’s meager efforts at uncovering the truth. A lot of the article was dedicated to the victims of the crimes, since there was a lot of information on the wealthy patrons of The Garber Resort, but there wasn’t much to be said about how or why Ben Anderson was suspected.

  The burning desire for the truth raced through her veins as she took a bite of pizza. She was just reaching for a sip of her soda when the doorbell rang. Momentary fear about the possible stalker in the blue car clenched her stomach, but she brushed it off. Why would they ring the doorbell?

  She went to peer through the eyehole and smiled in response. “Adam!” she said, yanking the door open.

  “You don’t have your phone near you,” he said, giving her a chastising look before pulling her into a warm embrace.

  “Oh my goodness, I must not have heard it vibrate. You’re here, though.” Her smile was met with a gentle kiss.

  “I was about to call you, but figured I’d just as easily swing by. Looks like I just missed lunch.” He eyed the plate and her computer. “And it looks like you’re working on something.”

  She filled him in while grabbing him some pizza from the fridge, then he came to join her on the couch, his own plate balanced on his knees as they both read the article.

  “There’s not much here.”

  “I know,” Margot said, shaking her head before she took another sip of soda. “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “May I?” Adam nodded toward the keyboard and she urged him on. After a few keystrokes, much muttering, and an exasperated sigh, Adam leaned back. “So that is all there seems to be. I could probably find out more at work, but that’s as good as it’ll get for a civilian.”

  “It’s not enough.”

  “Margie, I don’t like that tone.” Adam put his plate on the coffee table and turned to look at her.

  “But it’s not enough. We need to know who Ben Anderson really is…or was. Like what kind of man? Bentley needs to know.” Even as she said the words, she wasn’t sure that was completely true. Was it better for him to not know that his son—whom he’d never met—was a criminal?

  Adam nodded slowly, leaning back on the couch and linking his hands behind his head. She could almost see the wheels turning in his mind.

  “Okay, here’s what I think we should do.”

  She leaned forward, interested to see what he deemed their next steps.

  “We need to go to The Garber.”

  “We do?” She knew she was grinning by the way Adam rolled his eyes.

  “If I’m put on this case, it’s the logical next step. To go to the place where he was last seen and to see the evidence they have.”

  “Can I come?”

  Adam laughed. “I knew you’d ask that. I don’t think I could stop you.”

  She grinned. “So we leave tomorrow?”

  Adam gave an overexaggerated sigh, but kissed her on the cheek. “Tomorrow at eight.”

  5

  Margot made arrangements with Julia and Dexter to cover for her the next day and went to bed early, knowing that they would have at least a three-hour drive to Granby Station and then it would be a long day of questioning before driving back that night. One thing was certain: they would not stay at The Garber. Neither she nor Adam had the money for that.

  Dressed and ready by seven-thirty, Margot typed a few questions into her phone’s note app in preparation. She’d read the article about the incident at The Garber several more times that morning and had narrowed down what she did and didn’t know.

  The knock on her door came
three minutes before eight. She grabbed her large canvas purse, slipped on her sweater, and picked up a light jacket just in case. When she opened the door, she was shocked to see Adam and Bentley standing in front of her.

  “Bentley?”

  “I couldn't let you go without me, Margot. I'm sorry…but I have to know who my son is. And before you ask, yes, Adam told me what to expect.”

  “Bentley…” Margot reached out and took his hand, compassion flooding her. “I hope we can find the answers we’re all looking for.”

  He nodded. “Let’s get on the road.”

  Margot followed them out to Adam’s car and Bentley took the backseat, insisting that she sit up front with Adam. On the road, they avoided the topic of the burning car and even their mission to The Garber Resort. It was one thing to know what they were heading into, but another to discuss it as if Ben Anderson wasn’t someone related to Bentley. He was more than just a man wanted for murder.

  Eventually, Bentley succumbed to the lull of the car and felt asleep, his gentle snores making Margot smile. She took the opportunity to ask Adam something she’d been wondering about since they left.

  “What will we do when we get there? And what did the M.E. say about the body in the car?”

  “I’ll answer the easier question first. Martin hasn’t found anything conclusive yet. The body—” Adam looked in the rearview mirror to check that Bentley was still asleep. “—was badly burned. It’ll take some additional tests to discover who it was.”

  “That’s terrible.” Margot swallowed down her uneasiness.

  “We’re working off the assumption it’s Ben, but the proof is inconclusive. The car was registered to Ben, which is how they knew—or at least assumed—it was Bentley Anderson’s car. The body seemed to be about the right build, according to Ben’s DMV records, as well. But it’s all guesswork at this point.”

  “Did the chief send you today, or is this on your own?”

  Adam smiled. “Let’s just say it’s a little bit of both. I’m authorized to talk to the local authorities once I get some answers at The Garber.”