Death by Betrayal (Book #10 in the Caribbean Murder series) (4 page)

The
news gave Cindy no comfort.  The last one she wanted to see now was her mother,
or her mother’s brother, Ben. The two of them were joined at the hip and Cindy
was glad Ben was here with her mother, but Cindy had important work to do. This
was more than a family matter, it was a murder that she had to solve. She needed
to stay clear headed to do it, not get pulled into family sorrow and blame.

Cindy
broke away from Trage’s side and started walking slowly around the room, taking
in whatever she saw. Everything was in its place. There was a sofa at one end
of the room with a coffee table in front of it. A bunch of yellow tulips was on
the coffee table, along with an opened box of chocolates.  Yellow tulips were
Ann’s favorite flower and those were the chocolates she loved. Obviously Frank had
taken extra pains to make her happy.

“Ann
and Frank were down here for a vacation,” Cindy murmured.

“So
we’ve heard,” Trage mumbled.

“Nothing
in the room says otherwise either,” Cindy noted.

“Not
to the immediate eye,” Trage replied. “We’re dusting for fingerprints and have
checked for footprints.  We’re also going over the room and body for DNA.”

Cindy
took a quick, painful breath and as she scanned the beige carpet more closely,
her eye suddenly fell upon a tiny rhinestone, embedded in it.

“What’s
that?” Cindy said, going over to pick up the rhinestone immediately.

“Don’t
touch anything,” Trage shot back.

Cindy
rushed over, picked up the tiny rhinestone and held it between her fingers.
Trage came over quickly and looked at it.

“Could
have come off something your sister was wearing,” he said.

“Could
have, could have,” Cindy held it more closely. Ann had a bathing suit, she
remembered with tiny rhinestones. Suddenly Cindy doubled over sobbing. “Ann,
Ann, she cried desperately.”

Trage
put his arm around her shoulder and led her to the sofa. “It’ll be okay,” he
said in a hushed tone.

“No,
it won’t, not ever,” Cindy gasped between sobs.

“Does
this rhinestone belong to your sister?” Trage asked gently.

“It
could have, I’m not sure,” sobbed Cindy.

“We
have to find out more about your sister,” Trage went on. “Did she have any
enemies?”

Cindy
wiped her face with the back of her hand, and looked up. “Definitely not.
Everyone loved her.  Ann never had an enemy her whole life long.”

“She
obviously did though,” Trage replied. “We just don’t know who yet.”

Even
though Cindy didn’t want to leave Ann’s room, ever, Trage finally insisted that
she go to the room reserved for her, down the hall.

“It’s
been the worst day of your life,” he said, as he carried her luggage and
dropped it off. “Try to sleep, get some rest.  You won’t be any good without
it. We’ll get together first thing in the morning and get right back on the
case then.”

The
worst day of her life? Yes, it was; right up there with the day she found
Clint, dead on the beach in Barbados on their honeymoon. How was it possible
this nightmare was happening again? One by one those she loved were snatched
from her.

“Is
the room okay? Are you comfortable in it?” Trage asked, before leaving her
alone. “Anything else I can get you?”

“It’s
fine,” said Cindy, not bothering to look around. She’d been in so many hotel
rooms, they all blurred into one. All that mattered now was finding out what
happened to Ann and also helping Frank. It was awful that he was being held. It
was crazy.

“First
thing tomorrow morning I want to see Frank in jail,” Cindy said to Trage then,
in no uncertain terms.

“You
got it,” Trage replied. “Anything else I can do?”

Cindy
softened for a brief moment. Trage was a fine guy, he was trying his best, caught
in a tight spot with Cindy demanding to be involved in solving her sister’s
murder.

“No,
thank you so much for everything,” Cindy came to herself. “You’ve been a real
help. I appreciate it.”

Trage
seemed pleased to hear that. “That’s what I do this job for,” he replied. “I’m
here to help you, Cindy.”

Cindy
felt grateful. “Thank you,” she murmured again, as he turned and left for the
night.

Finally,
alone in her room, Cindy fell onto the sofa, buried her head in the pillows and
sobbed and sobbed until she could barely breathe. How would she ever sleep
again? How would she be able to wake up fresh in the morning and get on the
case, clear headed? It felt by now as though it were the middle of the night. She
had to sleep, had to put her grief on the back burner until she found out what
happened to Ann. There would be no way to live until she did, and there was no
one else she could trust with the case, either.

Cindy
got up, went into the bathroom, dried her eyes, splashed cold water over her
face, took off her clothes and got into a hotel robe. She had to sleep. Ann
needed her to. Or else, she’d be no good for anything. Somehow or other Cindy
managed to crawl to her bed, slip beneath the covers, and let herself fall into
a quick, deep sleep.

*

The
bright morning sunlight shone in on Cindy, waking her swiftly. Confused, for a
moment, she looked around the room.  Where was she? Not in Oyster Bay any
longer. It took a second to recollect all that had happened and where she was
now.

“Oh
my God, Ann,” Cindy called out, jumped up, got out of bed, ran to her suitcase,
opened it and clawed through the clothing. It was morning, she had to dress
immediately, have a quick breakfast and get to the jail to talk to Frank. Not a
second to lose.

Before
Cindy dressed she called down for coffee and eggs to be brought to the room.
She wanted to get right over to the jail, not waste time in a restaurant.

The
food came quickly, before she was finished dressing and Cindy gulped it down,
dragged a brush through her hair and called Trage.

“I’m
on my way down to the station to see Frank,” she announced the moment he picked
up the phone. “Get him ready.”

“He’s
ready,” Trage responded.

“Thanks,”
said Cindy.

“Wait
a minute,” said Trage, “how are you, did you sleep?”

Cindy
was taken aback at the concern in his voice. “I slept, I had breakfast and I’m
on the way to the station,” Cindy shot back.

“You’re
something else, Cindy,” Trage said softly.

*

The
cab wound through the beautiful streets of Bermuda easily, arriving at the
police station in no time at all. Along with everything else Cindy’d seen so
far, the police station was housed in a modern, clean, well designed, well-tended
building. Bermuda was upscale in every way, an idyllic place on the ocean, which
seemed to have everything running flawlessly. There was a sense of order and
safety here that helped a visitor relax. But this place wasn’t safe, it wasn’t
idyllic. Her sister had been killed here, laying on her beautifully appointed
bed.

Cindy
paid the driver and raced into the building. Frank was being held here and she
couldn’t wait to talk to him.

Trage
was calmly waiting for Cindy at the main entrance. “Good morning,” he said,
trying to take the edge off and create a semblance of normality. Trage had a
stalwart way about him that Cindy appreciated.

“Good
morning,” she said.

“Let
me take you to where Frank is being held,” Trage said as the two of them walked
down the wide, airy hallway, “it’s just a few steps away.”

“Thanks
again,” said Cindy, eager to see Frank.

“Your
brother in law can’t wait to see you,” Trage filled her in.

“Same
here,” Cindy replied. “And, I want to talk to him alone.”

“You
got it,” said Trage.

“I
still don’t know why you’re holding him,” Cindy suddenly snapped, turning to
Trage quickly. “It’s bad enough that he lost his wife, but to end up in jail
overnight for it!”

“Protocol,”
Trage said slowly.

“That’s
not a good enough answer,” Ann looked swiftly into his eyes.

“Maybe
you’re right, maybe you aren’t,” Trage scratched his head, “but it’s what we’ve
got. I’m sure you and Mattheus have run into protocol.”

“Yes,
we have,” Cindy quickly agreed as they grew closer to where Frank was being
held. She felt odd at the mention of Mattheus and thought for a second what it
would be like to have him here.

“Okay,
Frank’s in this room to the left,” Trage finally said, stopping in front of the
door. “You’re on your own for now.”

Cindy
nodded, opened the door and walked into a small, dim room, where Frank was
sitting at a long steel table, his head in his hands.

“Frank!”
Cindy ran over to him, as he looked up, and grabbed his hands.

“Cindy,
Cindy, my God, you’re here,” Frank murmured and started to cry.

“I
got here late last night,” she quickly breathed.

“Bless
you, bless you,” Frank could barely speak.

“Talk
to me Frank,” Cindy gripped his hands more tightly as he gripped her hands
back.

“Get
me out of here, Cindy,” his voice was wobbly. “I didn’t do a thing.”

“Of
course you didn’t,” Cindy exclaimed. “What happened, tell me?”

Frank’s
drawn face cringed at the thought of going over it again. “I don’t know,” he
started.  “I can’t remember.”

“You
have to remember – everything,” Cindy demanded, “Your life depends on it.”

Frank
shuddered, “It was late afternoon. I went down to the pool for a quick swim.
Ann didn’t want to go with me, she wanted to rest. I told her I’d be back in a
few minutes and she was perfectly fine with it.” He looked up at Cindy bleakly.
“We were having a good time, things were going great, no friction. She just
wanted to rest.”

“Go
on, Frank,” Cindy muttered, “tell me what happened.”

 The
pool was practically empty, just a few people in it. They were busy with each
other, no one took notice when I jumped in. Why should they?  I swam for a
little while and then got out and lay on a lounge for a few minutes. Nothing
wrong with that, is there?”

“Of
course not, nothing at all,” Cindy breathed. “Did you order a drink? Did a
waiter see you?”

“No,
I didn’t,” said Frank. “I was going to go back up and have drinks and dinner
later with Ann. I was just cooling off. Is that so terrible?”

 “It
isn’t terrible! Go on Frank, tell me exactly what happened then.”

“I
stayed down there for about half an hour and then went upstairs to be with Ann.
When I got into our room, right away it felt funny. It was too quiet, there was
a pall in the air. I called out, Ann, where are you? She didn’t answer. That’s wasn’t
like her, you know. Ann talks her head off.”

Frank’s
head suddenly dropped into his hands again, as if he were trying to hide from
the awful memory.

“I
can’t go on,” he finally muttered.

“You
can go on, Frank,” Cindy said softly. “You have to go on and tell me what
happened, every single detail.”

“I
don’t know what happened. Ann didn’t answer. First I checked on the patio. You
know how much she loves sitting on patios, looking at the sky. So I went out
there, but there was no one on it. So, I kept calling Ann, Ann, then I went
over to the bed.” He stopped talking a moment as terror filled his face. “There
she was totally still, laying face down. But Ann never lays face down, and on
top of that, there was a pillow over her head. I reached down and shook her
shoulder, but it didn’t move. She didn’t move.  I shook it again and then
started screaming. No matter how loud I was screaming, she didn’t move. So I
grabbed the house phone and called downstairs for a doctor. I thought she had a
heart attack.”

Cindy’s
heart pounded violently as she listened to every word.

“The
medical people came up in a second and pushed me away from the bedside. They flipped
her onto her back, started pounding on her chest, breathing in her mouth.
Finally, the doctor turned to me and said, “She’s gone.”

“Bring
her back,” I yelled. “He said, I can’t.”

“What
about the scratches on her neck?” Cindy could barely speak.

“They
saw them later,” Frank eyes were twitching. “Thick scratches in her skin.”

“Was
there blood?” asked Cindy.

“I
don’t think so,” said Frank. “I have no idea why they think I did it? We were
here for a vacation, I loved Ann.”

“I
know you did, Frank,” Cindy whispered.

“All
my life I loved her, I was good to her.”

“Yes,
you were,” said Cindy, “I told that to the police. Tell me, was there anyone
who had anything against Ann, Frank?”

“What
are you talking about?” his voice got garbled again.

“Somebody
killed her. Who would want to do that? What’s the reason?” Cindy felt the blood
rush to her face.

“I
have no idea, none at all,” Frank’s tortured voice rose louder. “Everyone loved
her, she had a thousand friends. As soon as she met someone, Ann made friends
with them. She didn’t hold a grudge, she wasn’t a fighter, she took things as
they came.” The vein in Frank’s neck stuck out strongly.

“It’s
okay, calm down,” Cindy tried to quiet him.

“I
can’t calm down,” Frank shouted loudly, “I never will.” I can’t bear this, not
any of it. I’ve got to get out of here.”

“Don’t
worry, don’t worry,” Cindy put her hand over his, “I’ll bail you out as soon as
I can.”

*

When
Cindy stepped out of the room with Frank, Trage was outside waiting.

“My
brother in law doesn’t belong in custody,” Cindy said quickly. “I’m bailing him
out.”

Trage
looked surprised. “It’s a fairly large bail,” he said quietly.

“Large
or small, I’ll do it,” said Cindy,” It’s wrong, it’s not fair and I’m bailing
him out.”

“I
don’t think it’s a good idea,” said Trage slowly.

Cindy
was incensed. “Frank’s not a flight risk. I’ll hold all his possessions and
personally guarantee that we’ll stay in Bermuda until he’s cleared.”

“I
get it, I get it,” said Trage, somewhat tentatively. “I’ll see what I can do.

Cindy
felt a huge sense of relief at the idea of getting Frank out of custody. That
was a good sign, she thought, that things would move in their direction. She’d
get Frank out of jail and cleared and find out what happened to Ann. Then what
would happen? Cindy couldn’t bear to think of how life would be without her
sister. A deep pit filled her stomach at the thought of not having Ann around. It
made her feel completely unanchored. But she couldn’t allow herself to dwell
upon that now. This was the time to stay focused and clear. She owed that to
Ann, at the very least.

“What’s
next on the agenda?” Trage asked, as the two of them walked down the hall, away
from the room they were holding Frank in.

“Next,
I’m going to see my sister,” said Cindy, her voice suddenly dropping.

Trage
was momentarily taken aback. “See your sister?”

“I
want to go to the morgue,” said Cindy, growing more resolute.

Trage
grimaced noticeably. “There’s no need for it. Ann’s body has been identified.”

“But
I need to see her,” Cindy demanded.

“Why?”
asked Trage.