Afterward, they lay together like two spoons in a drawer, their bodies damp with sweat. Bella’s heart still pounded as she snuggled closer. “Not one day’s gone by I haven’t thought of you. You have no idea how much I regretted how I handled things. I’m an idiot.”
He turned her so she faced him and then stroked the side of her face so tenderly it brought tears to her eyes. “Bella, I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you. I know it’s crazy but when you know, you know.”
“I feel the same.”
He smiled; the area around his eyes crinkled. “That said, I’m scared out of my mind.”
“Me too.”
“When this thing happened with my fiancée I vowed never to let myself be vulnerable again. I’d turn myself into a player, you know, and not have to feel anything again. But it didn’t work. Because at the end of that vow was you, walking around in your bikini on Drake’s deck. I told Annie that night I was a goner over you.”
“What did she say?”
“Same thing as everyone else. Stay away from Bella Webber.”
She couldn’t help but feel a little hurt over this information “Why would Annie say that?”
“Because Annie knows I have a tender heart. That’s how it is between two tender hearts. We recognize the each other.”
“I have a tender heart too,” she said, husky, feeling defensive.
He kissed her, soft and searching. “I know you do. All this sass is just an act to hide how you really are. I knew that after the night we spent together last summer. But when you ran away, every red flag in my baggage-laden brain went crazy.”
“I understand that, actually.” How good his body felt next to her. Familiar, like they’d been together all their lives. “Everyone has so many hurts, just piled up one on top of another until all we are is those hurts instead of the way we begin, open and willing and ready to love one another.” She kissed the side of his face gently. “How did you find out about your fiancée?”
She felt him stiffen. “I don’t want to talk about that now, okay? It’s done. In the past. That drawer is shut.”
“Okay.”
“Bella, we have to see this thing through—meet it head on instead of running away.”
“You make it sound like a combat sport,” she teased, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair.
“The physical part kind of is,” he whispered into her ear. “You won’t run away. Will you?”
“Not this time.” She nestled into him, yawning. “I wonder if Annie and Drake will notice I’m not in my room in the morning?”
“Not if you show up at breakfast demanding a meal big enough for a lumber jack.”
“Hey, I’m very hungry. What can I say?”
He chuckled, kissing the top of her head. “I remember.”
And for the second time in her life, everything felt right. This was the man she’d waited for, a man to be trusted and who deserved to be repaid for that trust with truth and loyalty and bravery. She drifted off to sleep. Happy.
Bella dreamt. Her father smelled of body odor and stale booze and old cigarette smoke. His eyes were wild and unfocused, with small red stripes. He sat with his feet dangling over the edge of the building and held her with both hands around her waist. She knew not to kick or wriggle because it might send them both over. “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy.” She screamed, shifting her eyes without moving her head to see her mother standing. Her hands were clasped together. And her mouth was moving but Bella couldn’t hear what she said, only her father’s voice, rough and desperate.
“Don’t come any closer, Alice, or I drop her.”
The crowd below gathered in clumps. Bella knew there were five stories down to the sidewalk. Five sets of stairs to their apartment when the elevator was broken, which was often. The rain was a drizzle. She heard the sound of a siren. It sounded far away. Would the firemen come like in the book Drake kept by his bed? Would they have a tall enough ladder? And then suddenly they were yanked back, toppling together, Bella landing on top of him in a backwards embrace. Her mother came then, gathering her up in her arms, crying into Bella’s hair. She squeezed her eyes shut. Would he come and push them both over? “Run, Mommy, run.” Was this a whisper or a silent scream? She heard heavy footsteps on the roof coming towards them. Peeping over her mother’s shoulder, she saw two men in blue uniforms. Policemen. They had guns pointed toward the floor. She shifted her gaze. Drake was on their father, straddling him, pummeling him with the heel of his hand. One of the cops yanked him up and still Drake struggled, his arms and legs flailing. “Let me go. I’m not done,” he shouted.
She woke, heart pounding, covered in sweat. The clock said 4:21 a.m. Next to her, Ben reached out and pulled her to his chest. “Was it the dream?”
“Yes,” she whispered, closing her eyes and burying her face into his chest. “You were there this time. In the crowd.”
“I am here,” he said into her hair. “I’m here.”
Chapter 5
The next morning, she awakened to her cell phone ringing from the sitting room. She rolled over. Ben was sound asleep, snoring. Stumbling, bleary eyed, she headed for the sound, rummaging in her purse until she found her phone. It was Genevieve. What time was it? Almost ten o’clock. Had she overslept for work, she thought, panicky for a moment? It was Friday morning. No, she didn’t need to be on set until eleven o’clock. She would get showered and dressed quickly.
“You all right?” asked Bella.
“No. Something terrible.” Genevieve’s normally smooth and centered voice was broken and shaky.
“What’s the matter?”
“Tiffany was found dead this morning in her hotel room. Strangled.”
Bella collapsed onto the couch. “Murdered?”
“That’s what they’re saying. The county police are all over the hotel. Somehow the press already knows too. They’ve arrived in droves, like the locusts they are. I don’t know how they know so fast.”
“Holy shit.” Her mind was turning. Ben. Was Ben the last person to see her alive? Except, of course, for the murderer. Next, she thought of Sabrina. Poor sweet Sabrina. “Did Sabrina find her?”
“Yes. When she went to check on her. This morning at like seven. Oh, Bella, it’s so awful. Richard said Sabrina howled like a dying animal when they pronounced her dead.”
Ben had arrived home a little after midnight. It entered then, the slippery smoke of suspicion. He’d been gone for an hour with nothing to explain his absence but a tale of a drunken, sick girl in a hotel room. Thoughts of deception danced and tossed about her mind like voices in a dark room during the moments before dawn. How well do you know him? they said. Are his laughing eyes only deception wrapped in a pretty package? Might his heart be black, his temper a flame easily sparked into violence, his strong hands capable of murder and lovemaking on the same night?
No, no, no, she cried out silently to the voices lurking in the dusty, dim corners. He’s a man to be trusted. A good man. A kind man. Trust your instincts, her mother always told her.
“Bella, are you there?”
“Yes. I’m here. Trying to get my mind around this.”
“I know. It’s such a terrible thing.”
“Gennie, Ben took her home last night. By himself. He didn’t get home until midnight. He said she was vomiting and he didn’t want to leave her alone.”
“Home?”
“Here home. Drake’s. I was waiting for him. To talk about things.”
“Oh.”
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” She got up from the couch and tiptoed over to the bedroom. Ben was still asleep, snoring softly.
There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment, then, Gennie’s voice clear and sure. “Honey, there’s no way Ben had anything to do with this.”
“But it looks bad. Doesn’t it?”
Again, there was a moment of hesitation from the other end of the phone. “Yes. It does.”
Suddenly, she re
membered Sabrina’s confession from the night before. Did Tiffany’s death have something to do with debt? Was she into something bad? And the men following her in the bar parking lot? Who were they? Had they gotten to her in her room?
“Gennie, Sabrina told me last night Tiffany’s broke. What if those men Ben saw in the parking lot had something to do with this?”
“Like she owed them money or something?”
Her phone beeped. It was another call, this time from Drake. “Gennie, I have to go.”
Drake’s voice sounded alarmed. “Where are you?”
“In the guesthouse. With Ben.”
“Oh.” A split-second pause, and then, “The police are coming up the driveway. It’s about Tiffany Archer. They want to question Ben.”
“Crap.” Just then she heard the sound of a car approaching. She went to the window. It was indeed a police car coming up Drake’s long drive. “I have to wake up Ben.”
Bella sat on the side of the bed and shook Ben’s shoulder. “You have to wake up.”
He opened his eyes and then broke into a wide smile. “Good morning, beautiful.”
“The cops are here.”
He sat up, his face turning from sleepy to shock in an instant; there was a flicker of something else too. Something she couldn’t decipher. “What? Why? Is everyone okay?”
“Tiffany Archer’s been murdered.”
The color drained completely from his face. “Murdered?”
“Sabrina found her this morning.”
“Oh, God. They’re sure it’s murder? Did she choke?”
“No, strangled. According to the police.”
“Strangled?” He put his face in his hands, speaking through his fingers. “I stayed with her to make sure she didn’t choke on her own vomit and then she’s strangled? How can this be?”
“Ben, did people see you go into the lodge last night? I mean, with her?”
He looked at her with a blank expression. “What do you mean?” Then, clearly realizing what she meant, his eyes grew big. “You mean I’m the last person who saw her alive?”
“I mean, you were alone with her in her room and in the morning she’s dead.”
He didn’t say anything. His pale face turned green. “Yeah, she couldn’t find her room key. I had to get another one. There were several attendants on duty, giving me the whole once over for being with a drunk actress in the middle of the night. I had this ridiculous urge to defend myself, like, ‘Hey my girl’s waiting for me at home, not this pitiful thing.’ Anyway, they were still on duty when they saw me leave an hour later.”
She took his hand. “Just tell them the truth. Every detail you can remember.”
“I will. Of course.”
Bella dressed in the jeans and sweater she’d discarded the night before. At the window, she saw two detectives dressed in suits get out of a police car. “I’ll go inside the house and tell them you’re here.”
But Ben had already gotten out of bed and was pulling on a pair of jeans. “I’ll go with you.” Shirtless, he took both her hands in his. “Bella, you know I would never hurt anyone, right?”
“Of course. Don’t be ridiculous.”
His eyes searched her face. “You think I’m in trouble here?”
“No. They’ll interview you and see there’s no way you did this. No motive, for one thing.”
“Right. Sure.” He paused, pulling a blue T-shirt over his head. “But you have to admit, it looks bad. You know, me being in her room alone.”
“I should never have let you go alone.”
He pulled her into an embrace. “This isn’t your fault. Anyway, the truth is I had nothing to do with it. Surely that’ll be obvious to them.”
She nodded, kissing him and holding him close for a moment. “It’ll be fine.” But inside she wasn’t so sure. He was right. This did not look good.
The detectives were from Echo Grove, a larger town to the north of River Valley, according to the markings on their car. They were making their way across the driveway to the guesthouse when Ben and Bella came out the door. The weather was damp and gray, the clouds close. A cold wind had come up during the night. Bella shivered and pulled her raincoat tighter.
“Benjamin Fleck?” asked the shorter of the two detectives. He was middle-aged and plump. The other was younger with hair the color of carrots.
“That’s right,” answered Ben.
“Bella Webber?”
Her voice shook when she answered. “Yes.”
“We need you both to come down to the station. Answer a few questions for us about Tiffany Archer.”
“Both of us?” asked Bella.
“Yes. We’re interviewing everyone who spent the last several hours with her. From what we gather, that includes everyone who sat with her at the bar last night.”
Everyone? That meant Stefan and Genevieve. This was going to be in all the papers. Neither of them needed this kind of publicity. Graham would be having an absolute fit about his movie right now. She almost felt sorry for him, knowing how this kind of thing, so out of control of his own power, would make him insane. But that was a fleeting thought. Mostly she was worried about Ben. The good news was that they would all have the same story. Stefan and Gennie would tell the truth as they remembered it.
Behind them, Annie and Drake came out of the house, putting on coats. Her brother had his cell phone in his hand, his face eerily calm whereas Annie was visibly shaking.
“I called my attorney in Seattle,” said Drake to both of them. “He recommended two defense attorneys.”
“If you need them,” said Annie, mouth trembling, her eyes darting to the detectives. “You’re just asking questions, right? No one’s being accused of anything?”
“That’s right, Mrs. Webber. Just gathering information about the victim’s last hours.”
“Do we follow you, then?” asked Ben.
“No. We’d like you both to get in the car.”
Now Bella started to shake. Riding in the backseat of a cop car was not how she wanted to spend the morning. It was supposed to be spent making up Gennie’s face, not down at the station answering questions.
“I’ll call Peter Ball, too,” said Drake to Ben. Peter Ball was a detective with the Seattle Force, assigned three and a half years ago to Drake’s wife and daughter’s murder case. The two men had become close during the horrific months that followed their deaths, both because of Peter’s careful and detailed work on the case and his genuine humanity and sensitivity. No one could unravel something and put it back together like Peter Ball. Bella shivered. If Drake was calling attorneys and Peter, it meant he was worried. And that made her even more afraid.
Chapter 6
The cop with carrot hair interviewed Bella at the police station in Echo Grove. The room was windowless and held only a simple table and two chairs. He sat across from her, his gaze both intense and unflinching, taking notes on a yellow tablet. They’d been together an hour already. She was hungry and the lack-of-caffeine headache was starting, faint still, like the air right before a thunderstorm. So far he’d asked her to tell him as accurately as possible everything she could remember about last night and she’d answered as honestly as she could.
“What is the nature of your relationship with Ben Fleck?”
She returned his gaze, unflinching. “We’re sleeping together.”
“Is this a purely physical relationship?”
“How is that relevant to anything?”
He shrugged, his hazel eyes cold. “I ask the questions here.”
She flushed, hot suddenly. How was her relationship with Ben a factor in anything? Regardless, despite her inclination to sass him, she knew for her sake and Ben’s she had to play nice. “We’re newly together. My brother’s known him forever, though.”
“And you were with him in the early part of this morning?”
“Correct. We’re both staying at my brother’s house. I left him at the bar around eleven. He returned to the house shor
tly after midnight.”
“Are you sure about this?”
Bella felt dampness at the base of her neck where her curls brushed the collar of her blouse. She put her fingers there, fluffing her curls, trying to remain calm. “Yes.” Just tell the truth. “I’d fallen asleep and looked at the clock when he came in.”
“And did you ask him what took him so long to return?”
“Yes.”
“And?” Carrot Cop raised his eyebrows and spoke to her in a voice dripping with disdain.
“Tiffany was throwing up and he didn’t want to leave her to die in her own vomit.”
“You really think a man like Ben Fleck held her hair while she puked for an hour?”
“Yes. He saw Tiffany was in trouble and shouldn’t drive so he stopped to help. That’s the kind of man he is. I’m quite certain he did hold her hair.” She put her fingers against her lips, watching him. There was a trace of meanness in his demeanor he didn’t bother to disguise with professionalism. He was a small man and unattractive, with eyes that bulged and one of those mouths where his gums showed over large teeth every time he grimaced. And that awful orange hair? He’d probably been tormented as a child and decided to be a cop so he could become the bully rather than the bullied.
He looked down at his notes for a moment before meeting her gaze, tapping his pen on the table. “How well do you know him, if, in your words, you’re newly together?”
“I just do.” She hesitated. How did one explain to a man like this one about a man like Ben Fleck? She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows. “Surely you can imagine he’d be in a rush to make it back to me. It took a kind man to stay and take care of a girl he barely knew.”
“Miss Webber, Miss Archer was raped before she was strangled.”
The pain in her head surged then. She stared at Carrot Cop, her thoughts too jumbled to respond.
“Miss Webber?”
“If that’s the case, it means someone else was in her room after Ben.”
The River Valley Series Page 63
