Death by Jealousy Read online

  “Perfect plan,” said Cindy as Mattheus got up and left.

  *

  Even before she went to the beach Cindy decided to indulge herself. She would start the day with a massage. There was a luxurious spa in the hotel and at this hour in the morning, Cindy guessed someone would be available to take her right now.

  Cindy made her way directly to the spa, and to her delight, she guessed right. There was an opening, and she was able to book an appointment for right then.

  The spa was incredibly beautiful, made of wood, bamboo, and hand painted tiles. The soft smell of incense greeted her as she was led through the open hallways, to the massage room.

  Cindy entered the room, pulled the curtains closed, took off her clothes, covered herself with a long, plush towel and lay down to wait. The sound of a little waterfall in the room rippled over her mind, helping her relax. Cindy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This was a luxury she hadn’t allowed herself for a long time.

  A lovely, young woman with a Jamaican accent, opened the door and came in.

  “I’m Carita,” the young woman introduced herself.

  “Thanks for taking me on such short notice,” said Cindy, turning around and smiling at her.

  Carita smiled back, put on soft music and came over to Cindy. Then she opened a jar that sat on a little table. It was pungent lavender massage oil that Carita slowly rubbed over Cindy’s tense shoulders and arms. Cindy felt her body ease up as the warm oil soaked through her skin, filling the room with its delicious aroma. Why hadn’t she thought of doing this sooner?

  “You’re a guest at the hotel?” Carita asked, pleasantly, making small talk.

  Cindy didn’t really feel like talking at the moment. “Mmm hmmmm,” she said.

  “Terrible, isn’t it what happened to that young woman?” Carita went on.

  Cindy knew that some masseuses felt their clients enjoyed it when they chatted with them. She didn’t know how to tell Carita how badly she needed quiet, that she’d heard all about it and didn’t want to hear another word right now.

  “Everyone’s talking about the drowning,” Carita went on in a lilting tone. “They say the body was a wreck. People at the hotel are nervous.”

  “Hmmmm hmmm,” Cindy responded, desperate to put it as far from her mind as she could. At least for a few hours this morning.

  “Actually, I just did an early massage with one of my regulars, a guest at the wedding, who’s been coming for massages every day,” Carita’s voice assumed a hushed, urgent tone.

  Cindy closed her eyes more deeply. She couldn’t escape it, wherever she went. It was understandable that guests from the wedding would come for massages. The tension had to be terrible for all of them. What better way to unwind?

  “She’s a gorgeous girl, a beautiful red head,” Carita went on, half to herself.

  Cindy listened.

  “I gave her an extra early appointment, today. She has so much to do, so busy helping the detectives solve the case.”

  “Helping the detectives?” Cindy exclaimed, loudly.

  Carita, startled, jumped. “Did I say something wrong? she asked.

  Your client has long, red hair?” Cindy asked, alerted.

  “Yes, that’s right,” said Carita, “long red hair. She’s meets with the top detective every day and tells him everything she knows. This is a very, very important person in the case. It’s an honor to take care of her.”

  Cindy felt a wave of tension return and flood through her body. Was it possible that Vivien was meeting with Mattheus every day?

  “What does she tell the detective?” Cindy asked, alarmed.

  Carita stopped massaging for a moment. “Calm down, calm down,” she started stroking Cindy harder. “It’s okay, the danger’s over. They found the body and my client told me the detective she talks to is the best in the world. He promised he’ll find the killer. He’s so handsome and smart, she just loves meeting with him. He even told her there was no way he could have solved the case without her help. That means so much to her.”

  “I’m sure it does,” said Cindy curtly.

  Cindy wanted to jump up off the table, pull on her clothes, run out of there. Of course Vivien could be fantasizing, making up stories, or it could be something was really going on between her and Mattheus.

  “Her name is Vivien?” Cindy asked quickly, just to make sure.

  “Yes, that’s right, Vivien,” Carita replied in her lilting tone.

  Carita was stroking Cindy’s back now, but Cindy was too on edgy to continue. She rolled over, pulled up the towel, and got up suddenly.

  “This was a great massage,” she said to Carita, “but I just remembered that I’ve got to be somewhere. I’m so sorry, I completely forgot.”

  “What?” Carita was flustered.

  “Really, I’m so sorry about this,” said Cindy.

  Then she handed Carita a generous tip, pulled on her clothes and rushed out of the room, leaving Carita speechless.

  Cindy rushed down the hallway, out of the spa and back up to her room. Once inside the room, Cindy paced back and forth uncontrollably. It was unhealthy to be this jittery, there was no way she could go on without trusting her partner. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mattheus’s computer sitting on the desk. Cindy went over to it, sat down at the desk, and opened it up. She had to get her head straight. She had the password to Mattheus’s email account and he had hers. It wouldn’t hurt to scroll through his emails and see if there was any record of him meeting Vivien every day.

  Cindy opened his emails and began scanning through them. To her shock, there was one after another from Vivien.

  I loved talking to you, Vivien wrote to Mattheus, you make me feel safe. You make me feel happy.

  I’m here for you anytime, Mattheus quickly answered back.

  Do you really mean that? Vivien’s next email said.

  I do, I mean that, said Mattheus.

  But we have to keep this quiet, Vivien wrote next. I don’t want Tad knowing I’m talking to you and I don’t want you telling your strange partner, Cindy anything. She gives me the creeps.

  Cindy flushed bright red.

  We can meet wherever you want, anytime, answered Mattheus. No one has to know.

  But I can’t leave the hotel grounds, said Vivien.

  I can take you in my car with me, Mattheus answered. We can go to the hiking trails, or go and sit on the coral reefs.

  Cindy gasped. That was where Mattheus had taken her. He was replacing her with Vivien.

  You turn me on, Mattheus, Vivien wrote in the next email. The thought of being with you in the coral reefs – whew.

  I want you to feel safe with me, wherever we are he wrote.

  Cindy checked the times these emails were sent. Mattheus took a little while before he answered the last one. His answer could mean anything. He didn’t say he was turned on by Vivien as well, but he didn’t clarify the purpose of their relationship, either. He didn’t clearly remind her that this was only part of the investigation. Why should he? He was probably enjoying the exchange as much as she was. Cindy’s heart pounded as she continued reading.

  I want to tell you all about my relationship with Tad, Vivien went on. But only when we’re alone and safe.

  I want to hear all about it, answered Mattheus.

  It was actually unimaginable that Mattheus hadn’t mentioned a word about this to her. Cindy felt the ground dropping out from beneath her as she continued reading.

  I could love you, Mattheus, Vivien’s next email said.

  Cindy imagined Mattheus reading it, taking Vivien’s adoration in, thriving on it, wanting more.

  Love is good, he replied. We all need it, for sure.

  Trembling, Cindy turned away. It was enough. She couldn’t bring herself to read another email. What a miracle that she’d even found these. Thank God, she’d decided to take the massage with Carita. Thank God Carita massaged Vivien every day. This wasn’t the first time on a case that Cindy wat
ched synchronicity working its magical ways. Despite the awful turn of events, she felt guided and looked after, not by Mattheus, but by something much larger than both of them.

  Cindy got up, walked out onto the patio and looked out at the ocean. As long as she lived, she’d never felt so betrayed. She watched the waves lapping up on the shore and rolling back out to sea. There was no way Cindy would go to the drug dealer with Mattheus. At the moment she didn’t want to do anything at all with him. But she was still a professional, and she wasn’t going to let this knock her off her game. She’d go to the drug dealer herself, right now, and if she found anything noteworthy, she’d let the police and Mattheus know. Cindy had come down here to do a job and she would do it, to the last drop.

  Cindy went back into the room, called up for a taxi, went to the bathroom, splashed water on her face and brushed her hair. After she finished this case, she’d immediately return to the States. Cindy suddenly thought of her sister, Ann. Ann had been begging Cindy to return and stay home for so long now. Ann tried to warn her about Mattheus back in Key West. Cindy decided to call Ann now and let her know that she’d be back home for a long visit, in a little while.

  The moment her phone rang, Ann picked up immediately.

  “So great to hear your voice, Ann,” Cindy started. It always calmed and centered her to talk to her sister.

  “How’s it going, down there?” asked Ann.

  “Rough case,” said Cindy.

  “They all are,” said Ann, weary.

  “I’m really looking forward to seeing you when I get back,” Cindy said. “Should be pretty soon now.” Her voice trembled a bit.

  Ann caught it. “Listen, it can be sooner than when you get back. Frank and I are vacationing right now in Miami. We’re only half an hour away!”

  Cindy was thrilled and surprised. “Really? How come I didn’t hear?”

  “We got down here a few days ago,” said Ann. “How about it? Would you like us to fly down and take you out for dinner, or are you just too busy for words?”

  “Fly down,” Cindy said, her heart fluttering. “Get here as soon as you can.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Cindy was incredibly relieved to know that Ann and Frank would be flying down, and she could touch base with them. She wanted to run everything that happened with Mattheus by them, make sure she was not losing her perspective. It was definitely easy to lose perspective during a case where you constantly dwelt upon unspoken motives, imagined the worse scenarios, were always on the lookout for evidence of foul play. She used run things by Mattheus to keep perspective. They’d balanced each other, provided new insight, became a source of clarity and strength. But as Cindy went through Mattheus’s emails, she felt herself deeply withdraw from him. His exchange with Vivien didn’t sit right with her. Nothing about this case did. On the one hand, Allie’s death looked like a routine mishap. On the other hand, Cindy sensed a winding trail of lies beneath the polished surfaces of this gorgeous and incredibly well manicured playground for the rich.

  Cindy went down to the front of the hotel to wait for the taxi who would take her to see the drug dealer, Carlos. For a second she thought of bringing Laura along. Cindy’d actually picked up the phone to call and invite her, but then, thought better of it. These girls in the wedding party were all close to one another. Who knew what Laura would say to who and how the news might spread of where they were headed. Cindy didn’t want that. She wanted to surprise Carlos in his territory, take him unaware.

  The taxi pulled up to the hotel and Cindy got in. When she told the driver where to go, he turned around and shook his head.

  “Not the best place for a woman alone. You sure you want to go down there?” he said.

  His comment startled Cindy. She didn’t think of herself as a woman alone. She thought of herself as a strong detective, able to navigate anything now.

  “It’s fine,” she said, as he started the car.

  The taxi drove along the curving driveway of the hotel, wound its way through the main roads and then suddenly turned left and began a quick descent down a bumpy road. They passed some ramshackle houses and wild brush along the highway. Then they turned steeply down again through a narrow, unattended valley and then around a ravine. Cindy had no idea that a neighborhood like this was buried here on the Island.

  “We’re almost there,” the driver said, as the trees grew thicker. “The place you asked for is down that way,” the driver lifted a heavy hand and pointed forward.

  Cindy leaned over and saw an old, wooden, half broken down building at the end of the road.

  “You want me to wait for you to take you back?” the driver turned around and looked at her.

  “Yes, that would be great,” said Cindy. She hadn’t arranged for that in advance, didn’t realize the place was so secluded, that it would be very difficult to get a taxi here.

  They drove as close to the house as they got could, and the driver pulled up under an old, squatting tree, with sprawling branches.

  “He’s expecting you, right?” the driver asked, as Cindy stepped out of the cab.

  “I’ll be back in a little while,” Cindy answered, grateful for the driver’s concern.

  “Just want to know how long I’ll be waiting here,” he continued gruffly, “I got to get paid for my time.”

  “Of course,” said Cindy, “I realize.” She thought of paying him right then and there, but suddenly decided it would be more likely that he wouldn’t drive away, if he had to wait for his fare. “I’ll pay you double for waiting time,” she said. “Clock it.”

  He grinned. “You’re smarter than I thought,” he said. “Don’t want me running out on you down here, do you?” and he chuckled. “Listen, honey, there are simpler ways to get the stuff, unless you needs lots and lots of it.” He looked at her, questioningly.

  He thinks I’m a dealer, Cindy realized, or a greedy tourist whose gotten sent far afield.

  “I’ll be back in a little while,” she said simply, not addressing the unanswered question in his eyes. Then she got out of the cab and began to walk slowly along a very narrow, broken, wooden road.

  The house at the end of the road looked dark and empty. Cindy wondered if anyone was even there, or if you had to make an appointment to come and get your stash. The closer she got to the place, the more broken down and abandoned it seemed. The air was also moist and dank, filled with little insects flying around. Cindy swatted one or two of them away from her face, as she stepped up to the door. The bell at the side of the door was hanging down, broken, but there was a rusty knocker on the door, still up.

  Cindy reached for the knocker and was about to knock, when the door swung open suddenly.

  Startled, she gasped.

  A heavy, tough, medium size, half bald Jamaican guy, with a scar on his right cheek, stood there, staring at her.

  “Carlos Ramanos?” Cindy asked, trying to get her footing.

  “What the hell you doing here?” he spoke heavily. He was as surprised to see Cindy as she was to see him.

  “Allie sent me,” said Cindy, her voice trembling.

  His eyes opened for a second, and then half shut again.

  “You crazy, or something, lady?” His face grew dark and his eyes glowered.

  “I’ve got to talk to you,” Cindy said then, in a pleading tone. “It’s very, very important.” The urgency in her voice surprised even her.

  It must have startled Carlos too, because unexpectedly, he pulled the door open, and let her in.

  Cindy walked in and couldn’t catch breath. The room was dirty, dark and smelled of thick, stale beer, rum, and cigarette smoke. Cigarette butts were stashed in cans and scattered on the floor. The windows were closed and at one corner was an old, leather, ripped coach.

  “Sit down,” he said, opening his mouth wider, showing big spaces between his teeth.

  “Thanks for letting me in,” Cindy said.

  He nodded heavily, and despite herself Cindy liked him.

&n
bsp; “What the hell do you mean Allie sent you?” he muttered, pulling up a flimsy wooden chair and sitting on it, close to the couch.

  Cindy saw that he’d become nervous. Probably because she’d mentioned Allie. She knew the locals could be superstitious, especially about the spirits of the dead.

  “I’m here to help Allie,” Cindy spoke more softly, wanting to draw him further in.

  “She’s dead,” he blurted out, a little drool coming down the sides of his mouth.

  “Maybe she’s not?” Cindy whispered. She wanted to make him suspicious of what had really happened to Allie. Instinctively Cindy knew this guy had all kinds of answers.

  Carlos started tapping his foot on the floor in a strange rhythm, as if thinking things over.

  “What do you mean, maybe she’s not dead?” His eyes squinted further shut as he spoke.

  “Maybe they found someone else’s body dead? Maybe she got up to the surface and escaped?”

  Carlos shuddered at the thought of it. “They found her body,” his voice descended into the pit of his stomach. “Police identified it. Case closed.”

  “The case isn’t closed,” Cindy whispered tautly, looking around. The place was an incredible mess, old newspapers were lying on the floor, a rusty hotplate was plugged into the wall. “Did Allie come here often?”

  To Cindy’s amazement, his eyes seemed to fill with tears.

  “She came whenever she visited the Island,” he said. “She was caught in the trap.”

  “She needed the stuff badly?” Cindy asked.

  “Yeah, she needed it, but so did someone else,” he muttered. “It’s never just one person alone who needs it. In all my years, I can tell you that.”

  “Allie was dealing for someone?” Cindy quickly responded.

  “Who are you?” Carlos leaned closer to Cindy then. “They got you up front grabbing dope, too?”

  “Was Allie was dealing for someone?” Cindy repeated, amazed.

  “Who are you?” He stood up, swinging his arms back and forth as if ready to take a shot at someone. Not Cindy though. She felt safe with him.