by Amy Saunders
“I, um, had asked her a few times and she’d never gotten back to me. I was just irritated.”
“Where were you yesterday afternoon? Between about noon and three?”
Shelby looked afraid and conflicted.
“Is this really necessary?” Dinah’s narrow face pinched up in anger, making her look gaunt.
“Someone murdered Angie Chen,” Jonas said, “and I’m assuming you’d like us to rule out your daughter. It’s just a routine question.”
“Mom, it’s fine.” Shelby wriggled free of her arm and stood straighter. “I was working in my studio in the basement around then.”
She’d had a minute to pull together a story, so Jonas narrowed his eyes. “Can anyone vouch for you?”
She hesitated. “No.”
“Are you sure?” She certainly didn’t sound sure to him.
Dinah huffed in irritation. “Yes, she’s sure! Can we go now?”
Jonas ignored her, especially since Shelby shot her mom an annoyed glance. “One more thing. How well did you know Kevin Pratt?”
Shelby noticeably blinked in surprise. Clearly, she had no idea that would come up. “The guy who was on the beach?”
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“I’d never heard of him before the news.”
Jonas arched his eyebrows. “But you were in the same art class just weeks ago, and there weren’t that many students.”
Shelby blushed, her eyes shifting to her mother quickly, who looked befuddled. “Right,” Shelby said. “I barely spoke to him. Sorry.”
Dinah recovered and stared at Jonas coldly. “We’re talking to our lawyer.”
“That would be wise.” Dinah liked his agreement with that conclusion even less. “Thanks for your time.” He found his way out, calling Soto. It was time to have the fake Simone painting analyzed top to bottom and compared. Starting with Angie.
Chapter 18
That afternoon was the dreaded tennis day. Belinda waited in the car in Bennett’s driveway while he changed, distracting herself from periodic stabs of panic over the money situation with new messages and e-mail. Still nothing from Mia, but Victoria had texted her that Dan spotted the new garden gnome. She smiled, picturing his deadpan reaction to that. And Victoria had thought he wouldn’t notice.
Fortunately, that morning she and Bennett had a successful meeting with Portside House Cleaning. Belinda had laid out her conditions, and they’d met her demands. After some thought, Belinda’s conditions had come to include that they change their policy of not hiring anyone solely based on blights on their past. In fact, they were going to embrace people’s blights and work with an organization devoted to getting former drug addicts and others back on their feet. Not only was this more reasonable considering recent events, but it was also a means to improve their reputation. It would make a wonderful news story, and turn a less-than-stellar situation into a positive one. She even had plans to recommend Colleen interview Isabel, Elena Campos’ sister, for the feature. (Colleen was handling it, even if she didn’t know it yet. It was the least she could do since Elena partly fell into that situation because of her, anyway.)
Belinda would use their services, road-testing new recruits. Instead of sicking a housekeeper on Bennett, who would not really like it, she recommended transferring that perk to Jonas. Bennett wholly agreed, so without even consulting Jonas (he would like it, whether he knew it or not), she insisted on weekly cleaning for his apartment. He was busy; he’d thank her later.
While she and Victoria texted back and forth about the garden gnome debacle, Bennett came out of the garage, truly Portside yacht club tennis worthy in a pair of knee-length white shorts and polo shirt and sneakers, baring a racket in one hand. He ducked into the front seat, his eyes bright and chipper. He had no clue what awaited him.
She’d done her best to warn him, trying to talk him out of it again that morning, but he wouldn’t listen. So there they were, pulling into a space right across from her mother’s convertible. Belinda had been hoping her mother would cancel, but that was clearly not going to happen.
The yacht club was a brown shingled building with green trim that sat on a small hill across the road from the mouth of the harbor with a view of the Portside Bridge that connected Portside to the mainland. Across the street, Kyle taught sailing lessons. Facing into the harbor, you could see the wharves and other buildings in downtown. The side of the yacht club faced the bay with a large green where people lounged in Adirondack chairs. Once in a while, it was home to polo matches and weddings.
A restaurant and bar was in the back. Off the hallways were rec rooms and libraries to sit in and talk or read. But they needed the tennis courts, which were out back. They walked that direction with locked hands, stopping to chat several times along the way. The women complimented Belinda on her clothes and wished Bennett the best in his game with Rosalind (her mom’s tennis playing was infamous), the men shook Bennett’s hand and told him to come play a round of golf sometime. Everyone wanted to talk to them. Belinda wasn’t sure how it happened, but they were looking and playing every bit the part of a PPC (Portside Power Couple).
They finally reached the tennis courts and after some chitchat, Bennett and her mom got down to business. Belinda gave him a quick peck, mouthing “play fair” to her mother, who gave her a non-reassuring smirk. Belinda sighed and crashed into a chair just off the courts, fantasizing about the restaurant’s piña coladas. But she needed to stay as a visual reminder to her mother to play nice.
Her mother served and the clack, clack, clack of the ball echoed on the court. Belinda was always impressed by her mom’s actual skill, even if she never liked playing by the rules. Bennett wasn’t bad himself (no real surprise) as he dove for the ball, his shoes squeaking on the court.
The chair next to Belinda screeched and she jumped, expecting Victoria but finding Jarrett instead. He smiled in apology, his teeth glistening in the light. Belinda wished someone else was around to act as a buffer. Jarrett might be normal and fine now…or not. She had no way to know for sure.
“That is intense,” he said, resting his head back on the top of the chair, motioning toward the court. Belinda turned to see Bennett and her mother running up and down and back and forward after the ball, their jaws clenched and a sheen of sweat visible on their faces and necks. “I don’t remember your mom being like that.”
“Neither do I.”
“Maybe your boyfriend is bringing out her competitive side.”
Belinda sat up straighter, lifting off her sunglasses. “Is my mother playing by the rules?”
“Looks like it.”
“I didn’t even know she knew the rules.”
Jarrett raised his chestnut eyebrows. Victoria blew in and sat down slowly, resting her palms on her bump.
“My student ran late, so I got here as fast as I could,” she said, out of breath. “What did I miss?” Victoria had a handful of serious piano students who never stopped lessons, even in summer. Plus, even some of her less serious students were cramming in time with her before she went on maternity leave. She was one of the favorite teachers at her music school, and Belinda had a feeling her students would mourn her big time.
“My mom is playing by the rules.”
“Oh…. Wait. What?” Victoria sat forward, examining the two players locked in their game. Rosalind had just scored and Bennett crouched down, waiting for her serve. “Belinda, your man has your mom playing by the rules. And not just any rules, mind you, but the rules.”
A smile crept across Belinda’s face until her eyes sparkled. “My man has my mama playing by the rules.”
“Yes, he does.” Victoria smirked. “Quite the turn-on, huh?”
Jarrett glanced at them. “Is this conversation going to get weird?”
“I’ll behave,” Victoria said, adjusting her seat. She and Belinda made eye contact and giggled.
Jarrett bounced up out of his chair. “Well, I see someone I want to talk to. Catch you later, Be
linda.”
Belinda said good-bye, kind of relieved they’d scared him off. She was tired and done with awkwardness for the moment. Belinda watched him dash up the stairs, checking out a couple of girls in their tennis skirts coming down.
“Do you need an escort to keep him at bay for you?” Victoria said.
“He just sat down, what was I supposed to do?”
“Shoo him off! I’m sorry, but a few weeks of normalcy doesn’t count as cured. If he’s seeing you all the time again…” Victoria held out her hands to suggest where that could lead.
“This is only the second time I’ve seen him. It’s fine.”
She ignored Victoria’s look of disapproval and went back to watching the game, truthfully ignoring her own internal concerns.
Bennett, in lieu of doing that grunting thing tennis players sometimes do, screwed up his mouth into the weirdest expressions. Belinda got video for the record, also taking some stills for fun, though most of them came out blurry.
Rosalind and Bennett finally finished their match and collapsed in the seats next to Belinda and Victoria, guzzling the water bottles pushed at them. Rosalind looked more worn out than Bennett, but they both had perspiration running down their faces and necks.
“I think I’m ready to dive into the harbor now,” Rosalind said. “Tennis, the great calorie zapper. Serves me right for eating all those pastries in Europe.”
“Who won?” Victoria said.
Rosalind pointed at Bennett. “Only by a little,” Bennett said casually.
Rosalind laughed. “He was being nice to me because of that one over there.” She dipped her water bottle at Belinda. “You could have annihilated me.”
“I’m not so sure. You’re a good player.”
Belinda and Victoria raised their eyebrows at exactly the same moment. Rosalind scrunched her nose at them, flicking her ponytail, and turned to Bennett. “Feel free to say that to my husband later. He won’t believe me.”
“No, he won’t,” Belinda said. “But I did get a minute or so of video proof.” Rosalind lit up and held her hand out for Belinda’s phone, watching the replay eagerly.
“I am pretty good,” she said. “Send that to your dad, won’t you? So, what exciting things are you two up to after this?”
Belinda exchanged a glance with Bennett. “Probably dinner and then DVR’d Antiques Roadshow.”
“Antiques Roadshow?” Rosalind laughed. “What are you two? An eighty-year-old couple?”
“Would you be happier if I said we were going to snog while we watched it?”
A red flash shot up Bennett’s neck and he grabbed his gym bag. “I’m going to hit the showers. Thanks for the game.” He and Rosalind shook hands.
“Meet us at the pool!” Belinda said. Bennett nodded back at her before going inside. Belinda frowned at her mother. “See what you did? You made me embarrass my boyfriend.”
Rosalind sighed. “Blamed for everything. I’m headed back after I shower. Enjoy your culture and snogging tonight.” She air-kissed her daughter. “Ciao, girls!”
Victoria and Belinda waved her off and went to the locker room to strip to their swimsuits. Victoria sported a black and yellow polka dot bikini. They stood in front of the mirrors, making final adjustments before stepping out onto the catwalk, aka the pool area. “This is the only time in my life I can have this size belly and expose it with pride.”
Belinda laughed. “You look fantastic.”
“We still sport a cute figure, I have to say.” She stood on her toes, twisting around to admire her back end.
The door swung open and Shelby came in, stopping awkwardly in front of the two of them. “Is your mom here?” Belinda said after they’d exchanged greetings.
“No.” Shelby seemed troubled, gripping the handle of her backpack dangling by her side.
“Is everything alright, hon?” Victoria stepped away from the mirror, folding her arms across her chest.
Shelby looked around her, then said, “A detective questioned me today, and mom and I had a huge argument after he left. She just stormed off and hasn’t come back, so I came here to get away for a while.”
Belinda thought that was the most Shelby had ever said to her. She must’ve been really upset. Or just more comfortable with her since the grad party. Belinda took a few steps closer. “I’m sorry. That must have been stressful, for both of you.”
Shelby tried to draw her arms around her body, but the bag hindered her. “They think I killed Angie.”
Belinda played dumb. “Angie?”
“She’s an artist…she worked in the class I took.” Shelby inhaled deeply. “Mom didn’t know and then she pestered me with questions about why I took this course and she got all mad. I just…I just wanted to paint for fun for a change. No one knew me in the class and I could do what I wanted.”
Shelby dropped her bag, flopping onto a nearby bench. “I’ve never really known what I wanted to do–art wise, you know? So I’ve just gone with what other people suggested. But going into college…it’s different. You can’t be an artist and not have your own point-of-view.”
Belinda glanced back at Victoria, who nodded like she understood on some level. Belinda had no idea Shelby could talk this much. “You thought the class might help you figure out what yours is?”
“Well, I know it’s not an overnight process. I mean, I’ve worked in different media and styles, but not very much. I never thought my mom would understand. She’s very traditional, you know, when it comes to art. I like that too, but, I don’t know. It’s not the only thing.”
“Well, you’ve got plenty of time to figure things out. And I’m sure you’ll take different classes in school.”
Shelby nodded, gripping her knees. “That’s what Angie said. It’s how she found sculpture. But mom has been all over my classes and it’s making it hard to pick things that are different from what I’m already doing.”
Belinda sat next to her on the bench. “Does your mom know about any of this?”
“No. But you heard what she said about Angie. She would never approve of me digging through the trash to create art.”
Dinah’s opinion of what Angie did was, well, low. But that didn’t mean she’d completely dismiss Shelby’s feelings. “Maybe you should just try telling her you want to try other art forms, too. Nothing’s set in stone at this point.”
Shelby sighed, slumping over like the whole thing was too exhausting. Honestly, Belinda wished she had a problem like her mom disliking her taste in art at this point. On the other hand, she remembered how tough things like that used to be.
“Is that the only reason you took the class?” An image of Kevin and Shelby’s name on the list at the museum flashed in Belinda’s mind. Not that Kevin and Shelby had anything going on, but Kevin was friends with Alec, so maybe there was some sort of connection there.
Shelby’s eyes betrayed guilt, reminding Belinda of a puppy caught chewing shoes. “I partially did it because I knew Kevin was in the class, and I hoped I could find out how…how his friend was doing. I hadn’t talked to him since last summer….” She trailed off like there was a story behind that, and she’d caught herself just before diving into it.
“Your parents don’t approve?”
Shelby half smiled. “They think he’s a criminal.”
Belinda took note of that. It could be Jarrett, though Belinda was relatively sure he wasn’t best buds with Kevin Pratt, so they were probably talking about Alec. “How did you know Kevin was in the class?”
“I was at the museum with my mom, talking to someone who works there, and I just saw a list of students who’d entered. So I signed up.”
Now the pieces of Shelby’s story started to make sense. This may have partly been about art, but it was mostly about a boy. A forbidden boy. Belinda could relate. “Did Kevin tell you they were coming to Portside for vacation?”
Shelby nodded. “When I heard about the party, I knew they’d be there.”
Belinda thought abou
t her next question, knowing she was about to take a leap in topics. But she needed to have all the pieces. “Did Jarrett realize you liked this other guy?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“You don’t think he had any interest in you?”
Shelby didn’t seem to know what to make of that question. “We’re just friends.”
“But he’d go the distance for you? If you needed his help?” Belinda could sense Victoria eyeing her strangely.
Shelby shrugged, puzzled. “I have no idea.”
Belinda smiled. It was worth trying. “Never mind. So did Angie know about Kevin’s friend?”
Shelby hesitated. “I doubt it.”
“I’m taking it your mom doesn’t know about any of this, either.”
“She’d be furious if she found out. Please…please don’t say anything.”
“It’s none of my business.” Though Belinda thought that Dinah might suspect the real reason behind Shelby taking the art class, and that’s why she got mad. Belinda glanced back at Victoria, wondering why Alec was such a big no-no…and why they’d called him a criminal. It could simply be he was in the wrong social circle. After all, she’d just been there herself. But maybe something else had happened.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” Belinda said, changing gears. “About Angie.”
Shelby sniffed. “I guess we weren’t exactly friends, but I admired what she was doing. I just don’t understand…” She drifted off, like remembering she was talking aloud.
“Understand what?” Victoria came closer, reminding Belinda that they were both still half-naked discussing someone’s murder.
“Nothing.” Shelby lurched up from her seat, snatching her backpack off the floor. “I should go. Mom’s probably wondering what happened to me.” She smiled. “Thanks. I’ll think about what you said.” She flew out before they could say anything else.
“Weird,” Victoria said.
Belinda crossed her arms. “Maybe she knows more about Angie’s murder than she claims.”
Victoria took Shelby’s seat on the bench next to Belinda. “If Shelby was using the class–and Kevin–as a means to get to Alec, then Angie may have known. She could’ve threatened to tell Dinah about Alec, or even been a romantic rival.”
