Chapter 42
42
Belinda, Arthur, and Sally entered the cozy bakery, greeted by a symphony of delightful scents that wrapped around them like a warm embrace. The air was thick with the tantalizing aroma of cinnamon, vanilla, and freshly roasted coffee, and Belinda’s senses were ignited with comfort. From behind the counter, the familiar servers chimed out cheerful greetings and well wishes for a speedy recovery. She smiled as she waved at them.
Bess emerged from the back, her smile as wide as her arms were spread, enveloping Belinda in a tender hug. Leaning back, Bess stared with gentle intensity into Belinda’s face and asked, “You’re not doing too much, are you? And don’t even think about lying to me, Sis. You’ve only been out of the hospital a couple of days.”
“I admit I’m tired just from the short ride over here. But I promise I’ll be all right. I’m going to sit here, have a cup of coffee, and meet with a potential client,” she reassured.
“Well, sit close by, and I’ll get everything prepared for you before I head back into the kitchen.”
Turning, she saw that Arthur and Sally had already claimed a small, two-seater table near the back. Opting for a table within sight of the entrance, she selected a table near the front windows. A server promptly brought a cup of coffee, then leaned down and whispered, “Bess is getting ready to bake a new batch of turnovers. Eat whatever you want, and then you can take the rest home to Aaron.”
Grinning with anticipation, Belinda eagerly nodded just before the jingle of the bell over the door announced the arrival of a poised, impeccably dressed woman. Every strand of hair was flawlessly in place, and her makeup was perfect. Clad in a sweater twin set with a string of pearls, black slacks, and heeled pumps, she epitomized sophistication.
Belinda felt self-conscious in her casual T-shirt and leggings but hoped that her attire wouldn’t undermine the impression of professionalism she aimed to convey with her photography.
Hoping she wouldn’t wobble, she stood and thrust out her hand. “Carol Winters? I’m Belinda Crowder.”
The woman smiled warmly and took the seat indicated, setting her designer bag in her lap.
“It’s very nice to meet you, and I’m so glad we could have this time together before I have to go back.”
“I’m also glad we were able to meet. You didn’t mention what kind of event you’re hosting.” Normally, Belinda would engage in light conversation with her clients, but today, the act of leaving Aaron’s apartment and venturing to the bakery had drained her. Despite her eagerness for the photography job, she had little energy to establish rapport with Carol.
“A wedding,” Carol said. “It will be a small wedding for my stepdaughter that will take place here in a few months. My husband and I have been down here looking over the shore and love the idea of her getting married here.”
Curious about a bride who was letting her stepmom choose the place for the wedding, she hoped that the girl would also be amenable to whoever was picked to be the photographer. She dreaded the prospect of investing effort only to have the bride’s vision clash with her stepmother’s.
“I see. Then congratulations to your stepdaughter. Will she be joining us, or are you simply on a fact-finding visit? I ask because it helps if I know exactly the bride's vision for their wedding, including photographs. Sometimes, you understand, a young bride disagrees with her parents' ideas.”
Her comments seemed to surprise Carol, but she quickly countered, “Believe me when I say that my stepdaughter will go along with whatever my husband and I choose. We are paying for everything, after all.”
Beginning to see the handwriting on the wall that this meeting might not go as well as she had hoped, she nodded and decided to send the woman most of her information through the Internet and keep today’s meeting short.
The server brought over the coffee for Carol, and Belinda, who had already set up Aaron’s laptop, turned it around and began showing pictures from her website that she’d taken of other local weddings. She went through her new client spiel and hoped her enthusiasm was greater than her energy. She caught Carol staring at her carefully and felt the need to explain. “I’m sorry, but as I said on the phone, I’m recovering from an injury. Actually, it was an injury and then surgery, so I assure you that I’m recuperating, but I am now rather tired. I can send you an email with a link to my website so that you and your daughter?—”
“Stepdaughter. I assure you that I am not old enough to have a daughter of marriageable age.”
“Yes, I’m sorry. Um… then you can look at my website to see what you and your stepdaughter might like, and it will have a comprehensive cost estimate.”
“I love what I see so far,” Carol said. Leaning toward the computer, she pointed at the screen and said, “Can you tell me where some of these pictures were taken? We are still looking at venues.”
Warming to the subject with Carol’s interest, Belinda shifted in her chair to more comfortably point with her right hand, scrolling through several and giving the information.
Carol also shifted and reached over to grab her coffee cup, fiddling with the cream and sugar before putting her hands back in her lap. “Oh, this coffee is so good,” Carol said after taking a sip of hers.
Belinda nodded. “My sister has a local coffee supplier that she uses for her roasted beans.”
Looking down at Belinda’s cup, Carol asked, “Are you not going to have any?”
“Yes, but I also know my sister is bringing out some fresh pastries, and for me, coffee is better when I have something to eat with it.”
They pivoted back to the computer, and a few minutes later, Bess walked out from the kitchen with a platter of apple turnovers.
“Here they are, just as I promised,” Bess declared with an undertone of forced brightness. She set the platter onto the table with unnecessary force, knocking Belinda’s coffee cup over. The sudden movement sent Belinda and Carol leaping from their seats while Bess mumbled hurried apologies.
Belinda hastily grabbed napkins and searched her sister’s face for clues to Bess’s too-wide smile, which seemed painted on. Despite Bess’s apologies, her tone betrayed an underlying tension. As she reached for napkins, pain shot through her shoulder at the abrupt movement. Weaving slightly, she steadied her stance against the table, and her grip white-knuckled as she grasped the edge.
Carol’s sudden gasp drew Belinda’s attention to the window, where she glimpsed sheriff’s vehicles pulling up outside the bakery. Frozen in place, she could only watch in confusion as the situation changed quickly. “What is going on?—”
Before she could process the scene outside, the moment was interrupted when Carol pulled a small gun from her purse and aimed it directly at Belinda. Fear crystalized in her veins, freezing her to the spot. Adrenaline raced through her body, but staring at the barrel of the gun, she felt no fight or flight. There was simply the numb terror locking her body into place. Not a muscle moved, and her gaze stayed pinned on the weapon.
While her muscles may not have worked, her ears were well-tuned to the sounds around her—the slamming of vehicle doors outside of the bakery and the shouts of law enforcement. Bess stood so close that Belinda could’ve reached out and grabbed her sister’s hand if she hadn’t been so afraid. Instead, her grip tightened on the edge of the table, hoping her legs would not give out from under her.
Bess. It suddenly slammed into Belinda that while the gun was pointing toward her, she was not the only one in danger. Bess. Arthur. Sally. The other servers.
She had no idea who Carol was but could only imagine she must have been involved with whoever had shot her.
“You can’t possibly think this is going to work,” she said, her head slowly moving back and forth. “Whatever you’ve done, whoever you’re with, this will only make things so much harder on you.”
“Shut up,” Carol growled.
A slight movement beyond Carol's shoulder caught Belinda’s attention. From where she was standing, she could see the outside of the bakery, now surrounded by law enforcement vehicles, men and women in uniform, and weapons pointing toward them. A noise came from the kitchen, and she wondered if they had also slipped through the back. She had no idea where Aaron was in the gathering but felt he was somewhere close by.
A voice called out, “Eileen Matherson. This is the North Heron Sheriff's Department. Put your weapon down, and keep your hands where we can see them.”
Belinda kept her eyes on Carol—or rather, Eileen, and watched emotions crash against each other like waves on the sand. Anger. Fear. Frustration. And she could see how desperately Eileen was trying to figure out a way to control the escalating situation.
“Eileen Matherson. There’s no way out of this except for you to surrender. Drop your weapon and lift your hands.”
In the instant Eileen glanced to the side, Belinda jerked the small table upward with her right hand, knocking it into Eileen’s legs, at the same instant that Bess’s arm flung out with the tray in her hands, slamming it into Eileen’s arm.
The gun skittered along the floor as Eileen staggered back. Belinda kicked it out of reach as Bess flung her body into Eileen, and they both fell to the floor. Aaron’s dad rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Belinda and gently pushing her behind him.
“You bitch! You pointed that gun at my sister!” Bess screamed as she scrambled to hold Eileen down on the floor.
At the same time, the bakery was flooded with law enforcement, led by Aaron, and his eyes were filled with concern. Brad rushed in and plucked Bess off Eileen, allowing the deputies to haul Eileen to her feet, clapping handcuffs on her while reading her rights. Eileen’s screams of indignity filled the small shop.
Aaron reached out, and Belinda was carefully enveloped in his arms. The cacophony of voices fell away as her knees buckled, and he held her, giving her his strength.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he said.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s a long story, but let’s just say she was tied into the murder of the man found on the beach and related to the man who saw you at the park and took a shot at you.”
Her eyes widened, her brain not following everything he was saying.
“Don’t worry about it now. Once all the loose ends are tied up, I’ll let you know. All that matters now is that you’re safe.”
She leaned in and kissed him, and with legs still weak from spent adrenaline, she remained in his arms. “Is there something you need to do here? I’ll be okay?—”
“The most important work I have is standing right here in my arms. Let everyone else figure out what to do.” He leaned down and kissed her again, then pulled her tightly to his chest, and she rested her cheek against his heartbeat.
Of all the voices, she heard someone shouting Bess’s name. Looking over, she saw Brad with his hands on Bess’ shoulders, his large body leaning over hers, and his face red as he shouted, “What the hell were you thinking? We had a shot, and you smack her with a tray! You could’ve been killed!”
“Well, I wasn’t, was I? Anyway, Belinda tipped the table over on the crazy bitch, and I don’t see you yelling at her! I had to save my sister.”
“You could’ve gotten both of you killed!”
Bess narrowed her eyes, then turned and shoved her way through the crowd until she stood close to Belinda. Her face softened, and she asked, “Are you okay, Sis?”
Reaching out her hand, she grabbed Bess, and then the two women burst into tears as they hugged each other. Finally, leaning away, they held each other’s gazes, and then their lips began to twitch upward. Leaning closer, Belinda asked, “What’s going on with you and the detective?”
“Oh, him? Nothing. He’s just… him!” Bess squeezed Belinda’s hand and said, “I need to go see if my employees are freaked out.” With that, Bess turned and gently pushed her way through the law enforcement filling the bakery and headed behind the counter.
Belinda settled back into Aaron’s embrace, praying the incidents were finally over. “I know we have to go to the station, but then, take me home,” she begged.
“Which home, sweetheart?” he asked, and she spied doubt moving through his eyes.
“Mine… or yours… as long as we’re there together and I can fall asleep in your arms, it doesn’t matter to me.”
She knew that was the right answer when his smile widened, and he leaned down, kissing her lightly.