Death by Desire (Caribbean Murder Series, Book 4) (7 page)

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“There are many beaches on St. Bart’s,” Jean
Pierre was driving with them to the scene of the crime, “one more beautiful
than the next. Right now the beaches will all be full. Usually, they’re more
empty and private. People can go and be alone with the sand and sea. There are
also some great nudist beaches for those who want to really unwind.”

Cindy couldn’t stand the sound of his voice
another minute. It was high and nasal, grating at her. He’d taken it upon
himself to be a tourist guide, it seemed. Or, perhaps, to distract them from
the true purpose of their visit. The roads they drove on were now more crowded
too. It was taking a while to get to the beach where Tiffany’s body had been
discovered.

They went up one hill and down another, dwarfed
by beautiful mountains on either side. The terrain here was jagged and
exquisite. Suddenly, the car pulled to a stop. Jean Pierre looked out towards
the right. Below them was an alcove with a white sandy beach on it. A few
jutties stuck out into the ocean. As Jean Pierre had mentioned, the beach was
filled with people, on chairs, blankets, stretched out in bikinis, drinking or
running into the sea. It was a time of joy and playfulness.

“That’s where we found her,” Jean Pierre
remarked.

“Who found her exactly?” Mattheus asked.

“Actually, I did,” Jean Pierre said quietly.

“Why didn’t you mention that before?” asked
Mattheus, disconcerted.

“I didn’t think it was important,” Jean Pierre
remarked.

“Did you know Tiffany?” asked Cindy, sharply.

“Not really,” said Jean Pierre. “I’d seen her
around. Her family’s famous, but there’s lots of famous people here. The place
is known for it – crawling with celebs. You can’t get caught up in it. You get
used to them after a while, don’t pay much attention.”

“How did you come to look at this spot?”
Mattheus was staying on track.

“We got the call that Tiffany was missing just
as it was getting dark,” Jean Pierre went on. “We get calls like that fairly
regularly. It’s not unusual for people to get drunk, get high, fall asleep in
strange places and forget to find their way home. They usually get back in
touch the next day.”

“It didn’t happen like that this time though,”
said Mattheus.

“No,” said Jean Pierre. “When we first got the
call, we didn’t take it so seriously.”

Cindy wondered if they ever really took it
seriously. Had it sunk in that a corpse had been found and that it was their
job to make sure another one didn’t turn up after it?

“By the morning,” Jean Pierre was continuing, “when
no one had still heard from Tiffany, we decided to spread out on the island and
check the beaches and trails. I was assigned this beach and two others. The
other two beaches I looked at were empty. Then, I scooted down here. It was
almost four in the afternoon when I got here. I started walking on the beach
and the sun was in my eyes, so I didn’t see her immediately. He paused,
remembering and suddenly looked troubled.

“Then?” Mattheus jogged him.

“The tide was going out. She was right up
against the water’s edge, near the rock jetty over there. The first thing I saw
was a leg.”

Cindy breathed deeply and looked away.

“Do you want to go down to the spot where I
found her?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Mattheus.

Cindy didn’t want to go. This was close enough.
She got the picture. She sat still in the car as the two of them got out.

Mattheus turned and looked at her. “It’s
important to go down there and be on the spot where it happened,” he said. “There’s
all kinds of things you can notice then.”

Cindy knew it was so.

Jean Pierre looked over. “Rough job for a
woman,” he said.

“Certainly can be,” said Cindy as she got out
of the car.

The three of them climbed down the slope of the
mountain to the beach. Waves of warm, salty air greeted her as she walked close
to the sand. The beach was full with people swimming, walking and laughing
everywhere.  

They walked to the edge of the water slowly and
stood there. Little birds walked on the sand and seagulls flew around them.

“This is where I found her,” Jean Pierre said.

It was terrible, Cindy thought, that Tad lad left
her alone that afternoon.

“Where did Tad go scuba diving?” she asked. “Far
from here?”

“A couple of miles down,” said Jean Pierre. “It’s
a well-known place. He went there all the time.”

Cindy looked into the ocean. What had really
brought Tiffany to this spot? Tad said she didn’t feel like going scuba diving
with him, needed some time alone on the beach. It seemed understandable enough,
but nothing was ever that simple, especially where a murder was concerned. The
fact that it was right after her engagement party may not have been by
accident, either. Had she been too visible? Stirred up too much envy? Cindy
suddenly wondered if Tiffany’d had any sense of her destiny? Often people had a
premonition before something terrible happened. What had drawn her to this
horrendous death? These questions whirled around in Cindy’s mind. She knew that
she had to check back in with Tiffany’s mother soon, who was waiting for
answers. What in the world could Cindy say? How could a mother absorb something
like this?

“What are you thinking?” Mattheus said,
breaking into her thoughts.

“I’m trying to sense what happened to her,”
Cindy replied. “I’m taking the steps she took with her, in my mind.”

Just then Marc and Tomas joined them.

“Okay,” they said, “we’ve been here long enough.
Don’t want to draw attention on the beach.”

Cindy looked up and around. Already a group of
people were looking their way. It must have seemed strange to see the police
here, gathered together.

They all turned around then and walked back to
the car together. Cindy felt badly, as though she were leaving Tiffany stranded
on the shore. She almost felt as if Tiffany’s spirit were begging Cindy to stay
with her.

When they got back up the hill, Tomas stepped
forward.

“Hope that was useful,” he said perfunctorily.

“Everything helps,” said Cindy.

“Next we’re going to talk to Tad’s parents,”
Mattheus said.

Tomas bristled. “No reason for it. We’ve talked
to them enough,” he sounded resentful. “There’s nothing more they have to say.
We’re on top of the case. And the guys from Guadeloupe are on their way up, as
well.”

“I hear you,” said Mattheus, “but we’re got our
own work cut out, too.”

“You don’t get what I’m saying do you?” Tomas’s
voice deepened. “Back off. Take it easy. We don’t want you guys spreading panic
on the island. Tell the Senator’s family what you want, but it’s not going to
help anything for you to get in our way.” His face was red and his eyes half
shut.

“He means what he says,” Marc echoed. “If you
step on the wrong shoes here, you can get kicked back pretty hard.”

“Got it,” Mattheus said.

“It’s been nice knowing you,” said Tomas then,
as the three of them turned to go.

“Looks like we’ve just been relegated to no man’s
land,” said Cindy.

“They can say what they want,” Mattheus
grinned, “it takes more than that to get rid of me.”

“I wonder what they’re so afraid of our finding
out?”

“Whatever it is, it stinks to high heaven,”
said Mattheus, “underneath this luscious island, something’s badly rotting, and
it’s time for us to find out what.”

The drive to Tad’s parent’s
home was surprisingly silent. Mattheus was in deep thought. He had a lot more
research to do on Sasha Petrovich and the political situation on the island,
but wanted to personally speak with Tad’s family as well.

When Cindy had called Tad’s
parents, asking for an interview, it took a while for them to agree.  Cindy had
to promise to keep it short, before they finally gave her their address and
directions to their home.

“I find it odd how little
attention has been paid to Tad’s family,” Mattheus remarked, when Cindy
mentioned that she got the appointment. “They’ve managed to escape into the
shadows beautifully.”

“Why shouldn’t they? This has
to be terrible for them as well,” Cindy replied.

“Maybe it is and maybe it isn’t.
Let’s find out. I’m going with you,” Mattheus was adamant.

Cindy wondered what he
expected to find.

Now as they approached the
home, the narrow road they drove on suddenly grew jagged as it twisted and
turned. At the end of the road a large, well-appointed home stood grandly,
under huge palm trees.

Cindy was taken aback. “This
looks like a little palace,” she said.

“Many of the homes on the
island are like this,” said Mattheus, unimpressed. “Getaways for the wealthy,
while the rest of us mortals have to work.”

Cindy was surprised by Mattheus’
bitterness.

“What’s wrong with working?”
she said. “Working is good. I like what I do.”

“So do I,” said Mattheus, “but
we’re rare. There are millions who do not, who work under the thumbs of folks
like this.”

Cindy turned and looked at
him. She hadn’t realized he had such strong feelings about the wealthy. There
was a lot she didn’t know about Mattheus, she realized. It was fascinating
watching different aspects of his personality unfold.

“I hope you don’t let your feelings
get in the way of the investigation,” Cindy remarked.

Mattheus didn’t like that. “I
never let anything get in the way of cases I’m on. Nothing, ever. I’m a
complete professional.”

“Wow,” said Cindy. “Looks like
I hit a nerve.”

They drove up the driveway,
parked along the side and got out of the car together. Unexpectedly, it felt as
if about to rain, and the house was surrounded by a mist. Unusual for the
weather on St. Bart’s.

They walked up the entrance
way and before they got to the front, the door opened. A tall, very slender,
elegant woman stood waiting to greet them.

“Mrs. Crane?” asked Cindy, walking
to the entrance, extending her hand.

         The elegant woman did not blink an
eye, or extend her hand in return.

      “Come in,” she said in a
plain tone, her face impassive and slightly weary.

Cindy and Mattheus walked into
the home. It was formal, stark and somewhat forbidding. The floors were grey
marble with an angular design and the furniture polished and upholstered in the
finest beige satin. It seemed strange for a vacation house on an island. Cindy
felt uneasy sitting down on the sofa.

“Sit down,” Mrs. Crane said,
motioning to a settee large enough to seat two. Another settee was placed
opposite it.

Cindy and Mattheus sat down carefully.
Everything about the place was carefully appointed, not a hair out of place. It
made Cindy nervous.

“Mr. Crane will be down in a
moment,” Mrs. Crane said as she sat, facing them, on the opposite settee.

“I am sorry for your loss,”
Cindy started.

Mrs. Crane looked momentarily
startled.

“My loss?” It didn’t seem as
if she felt that Tiffany’s death was her personal loss.

At that moment, however, a
tall, stately man in his early sixties, dressed in slacks and a sports jacket,
walked through a wide, latticed door and came over to them. He had to be Tad’s
father.

Mattheus stood up. “Mr. Crane?”
he said.

The man looked at him keenly.

“How can my wife and I be of
help?” he asked. He spoke as if he were attending a board meeting in the middle
of a busy day.

“We’re sorry for your son’s
loss,” Mattheus started.

“Thank you,” he said, non commital.

Mrs. Crane looked down at the angular
patterns etched into the marble floor, her hand resting limply on the edge of
the sofa.

“What can I do for you?” Mr.
Crane repeated, seemingly eager to get this over with.

“I’d appreciate if you could
tell us about your son and his fiancée?” Mattheus started.

Mrs. Crane cleared her throat,
perturbed. “We’ve answered this question before, many times.”

“Don’t worry about this, I’ll
take over,” her husband said, putting his hand on her arm.

“Tad’s a wonderful son, always
has been. He’s thoughtful, smart, successful.”

“Is there anything else?”

“What do you have in mind?”
Tad’s father said.

“Sometimes a detail that you’ve
left out will surface and it can help us discover a new lead.”

“You live in the world of
possibilities,” Mr. Crane responded, “I live in the world of reality.  What
kind of detail are you looking for?” He was implacable.

“Whatever seems relevant to
you,” Mattheus responded calmly.

“Nothing about this seems
relevant to me,” Mr. Crane quipped. “Nothing seems understandable or normal.”

“I understand this has been a
terrible time for all of you,” said Mattheus.

“Beyond what anyone can
imagine,” Mrs. Crane chimed in. “Shocking and deeply humiliating.”

Humiliating? Cindy thought
that was an odd way to put it.  “How has it been humiliating?” she asked.

“We’ve all come down for a
celebration, not only us, but our closest friends,” Mrs. Crane’s eyes opened as
she vented. “This was to be a delightful time. It was at first, and then it
wasn’t. Some of our friends have even left the island prematurely since this awful
turn of events.”

“Why did they leave?” Mattheus
asked promptly.

“Well, wouldn’t you?” Mrs.
Crane said. “Everyone was appalled, scandalized. They wanted to get as far away
as they could. It’s not what anybody expected.”

It never is, Cindy thought and
noticed that neither of Tad’s parents said one word about Tiffany, or her
family.

“Were you and your husband
close to Tiffany?” Cindy asked point blank.

“We’ve told the police all
they need to know,” Mr. Crane interrupted. “Frankly, I have no idea what
relevance this has at all. What in the world difference can it make how Marge
and I felt about our son’s fiancée?”

“It’s okay, Doug,” Mrs. Crane
interrupted, trying to calm him down. “They’re just doing their job. This sort
of thing is routine.” Then she turned to Cindy and Mattheus. “I actually liked
the girl very much,” she said.

“We were as close as we needed
to be,” Mr. Crane corrected her.

“You were happy about the
upcoming marriage?” Cindy turned to him.

“Tad was happy and that was
all my wife and I cared about. We trusted his judgment about so many things, we
had to trust it about this as well.”

This was far from a strong
endorsement of Tiffany, Cindy thought.

“How about the relationship
between Tiffany and Tad?” asked Mattheus.

“Why they were in love, of
course. Why else would they become engaged to be married?” Mrs. Crane seemed
irritated by the question.

“I would say they seemed fine
as well,” Mr. Crane chimed in. “I can’t say I thought Tiffany was necessarily
the perfect choice, or even good for him, though. Who knows if the marriage
would have lasted forever?” A muscle under his eye started twitching. “But
these days, first marriages are often simply suitable for a stage of life.
Tiffany wasn’t someone I would have selected, but that’s way beyond a parent’s
role these days.”

“Why wouldn’t you have
selected her?” Mattheus seemed fascinated.

Mr. Crane was comfortable
talking to Mattheus. “Tiffany was much too extroverted for Tad. Tad was always quieter,
more thoughtful, reflective. He has an individualistic way of seeing things. Tiffany
seemed the opposite. Quite caught up in the social scene, if you asked me.”

“What’s wrong with that?”
asked Cindy.

“Nothing, of course, it just
didn’t match up with Tad. In the beginning the difference between them alarmed me.
I thought she would grow tired of him, drop him like a hot coal. But then time
went by, and they seemed to do well together, so I began to take it in stride.”

“And she was always quite
lovely to us,” Mrs. Crane joined in, “considerate, friendly, kind. Don’t get us
wrong. There’s nothing on earth she ever did to deserve this. Even my daughter
Cissy grew to care for her. We’re all deeply disturbed.”

“Of course you are,” said
Mattheus. “And how did you the two of you get along with Tiffany’s family?”

 “They were all a little too
public and noisy for our taste,” Mrs. Crane said, “but the times we spent
together were fine. Perfectly cordial at all times.”

“Yes,” her husband agreed. “And
beyond this, I have no idea what you want from us.”

Cindy wasn’t quite sure at
that moment, either.

“We’d like any ideas you may have
on who might be involved,” Mattheus said directly. “Or who could give us more
information.”

“I’m afraid that’s way beyond
us,” Mr. Crane stood up, as if to end the interview. “This is way beyond
anything we could ever have imagined. It’s not, and never was in the range of
possibilities for our lives.”

But, just at that moment, a
slender, young woman with wild, curly hair walked in, wearing jeans and a
ripped T shirt. She had huge brown eyes and flushed cheeks.

“Cissy, this is Cindy and
Mattheus, detectives on the case,” Mr. Crane said, formally.

“Finally,” said Cissy. “I heard
two far out detectives came down to the island,” Cissy’s wide eyes were staring
at Cindy and Mattheus. “It’s great that you’re here. Thank God, you’ve come.”

“Thanks,” said Cindy. Cissy
seemed more relieved to see them than anyone they’d met so far.

“Looking for leads?” asked
Cissy, edging closer.

“Yes, we are,” said Cindy. “Any
ideas?”

Cissy had a smoldering energy,
as if any moment she would burst into flame, or let loose with something or
other.

“I sure have, “said Cissy. “ First
thing - check out Tiffany’s ex-boyfriend, Shane.”

“Why?” Cindy was alarmed by
the speed at which Cissy responded.

“Shane’s a player, and
everyone knows it. He and Tiffany were on and off for years. None of it ever
bothered Tad, but I never felt good about it. And, if you saw Shane at the
engagement party, it was truly weird. He didn’t take his eyes off Tiffany for
one second. It was definitely off the deep end and gave me the spooks. I
actually started to worry for my brother.”

Cindy liked her. Cissy held
nothing back and didn’t want to.

“What did you worry about?”
asked Cindy.

“I was worried that Shane
would get between them him and Tiffany, one day. I swear, I actually thought
that.”

“Cissy has always had a vivid
imagination,” Mrs. Crane interrupted, her voice brittle. “Since she’s been little,
she enjoys creating scenes in her mind and believing in them. In fact, Tad is
and always was totally able to take care of himself. Someone like Shane could
never make a dent in his life.”

Cissy threw her hair back off
her face, as if dismissing her mother. The two of them couldn’t have been more
opposite.

“Say what you want,” Cissy
flung at her, “I thought it. And so did some of my friends. In fact, one of my
friends, Alma, was going to speak to Tiffany about Shane. She never got a chance
to though.”  Cissy grew quiet, suddenly. “There’s a lot of things none of us
will ever get a chance to say to Tiffany now.”

“I’m sorry,” said Cindy.

“Yeah, I know,” said Cissy, “but
it’s not going to bring her back from the dead.”

“You’re out of line, Cissy,”
Mr. Crane chided.

“What did you think about Tiffany’s
relationship with your brother?” Mattheus jumped in, obviously wanting more.

“Tad was happy with her,”
Cissy answered abruptly. “It was obvious. She brought him out of his shell. Tad
has a tendency to brood. You hardly saw it though when he was with Tiffany. I
was happy for both of them. Tiffany looked up to him, too. She needed him
around her.”

Cindy wondered why. “What was
it about Tad that drew Tiffany to him?” she asked.

“That’s a ridiculous question,”
Mr. Crane was offended. “You’re way out of line.”

Cissy got quiet though and her
cheeks flushed.

“That’s a question a lot of us
asked ourselves all along,” she said.