Death by Jealousy (13 page)

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 watched 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.”

 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.

“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.

“I’m
a friend of the family,” said Cindy.

“Bullshit,”
he answered, stepping closer. “A friend of the family wouldn’t come here alone,
sniffing around.” Then he stood back and took a long, slow look at Cindy. “Besides,
I know all the friends of the family, by now.”

“They
all come down here?” Cindy asked in amazement.

“Not
all, just the ones I invite.”

The
two of them stopped and stared at each other. Cindy wondered if Carlos had any
idea that she was part of law enforcement? There was definitely a strange bond
between them. And, he was obviously shaken by Allie’s death. He probably felt
that Cindy was also disturbed by it.

Carlos’s
phone rang then, and he grabbed it out of his pocket, opened it up and
listened.

“Yeah,
yeah,” he mumbled. “I know.”

“Alright,”
he got harsher and turned back to Cindy then. “Listen, some guys are on their
way here to pick up some packages I got ready for them. I don’t know what you
want here, but you can’t stay much longer.”

“I’m
here to help, Allie,” Cindy repeated.

“Too
late for that,” he rubbed his foot on the floor then, as if putting out an old
cigarette.

“What
else can I do for you? You want some hash?”

“I’m
not here for drugs,” Cindy said plainly then. She wanted to be straight with
him, see where it took her.

He
shook his head up and down, taking her in. “You want to know why this happened?”
he said, “who had something against Allie, why she’s dead?”

“Exactly,”
said Cindy, her heart pounding, feeling as though she’d found a compatriot,
someone who could truly help her, who deep down, wanted to.

“I
have no idea,” said Carlos, “and I mean it. This shit took me for as much surprise
as you. Allie was a beautiful, sweet girl who did everything anyone wanted from
her, especially Peter.”

“Did
Peter kill her?” Cindy asked in a hushed done.

“Absolutely
not,” Carlos shook his head hard at that and shut his eyes.

Then
he opened his eyes swiftly and looked out the back window. A car was pulling up
along the other side of the house.

“Okay,
get the hell out of here,” he said, swiftly, as the car screeched to a halt,
parked, and three shifty looking guys got out.

Cindy
was riveted to the spot, watching them approach the house.

“Get
out,” Carlos shouted at her, “now.”

But
it was too late. The guys pushed open a back door and swarmed inside. They stopped
cold when they saw Cindy.

“Who’s
that?” one spit out, looking her up and down, as though she were booty.

“She
came for her stash,” Carlos muttered.

The
guys didn’t buy it, edged closer to Cindy. One in particular looked at her
threateningly, leering and rolling his tongue over his teeth. Cindy felt he could
wipe her out in an instant, if Carlos gave him the word.

“Cut
it out, Flandro,” Carlos said to him.

“Where’s
her stash?” Flandro pointed to Cindy’s empty hands.

“Just
about to get it,” said Carlos, when the other guy slithered up behind Cindy.

“Never
saw this customer,” the other guy said, standing too close, smelling of filth
and sweat.

“Back
off, Pedro,” Carlos warned him, “there’s no time for this. She’s a friend of
the family.”

Pedro
took a few steps back, grinned, and shook his head.

 “Nah,
she’s lying to you. They’re coming themselves to pick the stash up.”

The
tension in the room increased as Cindy felt the guys closing in around her.

Thankfully,
the next moment, they all looked up and out the front window as a long, black
car pulled up in front of the house.

“Alright,
alright,” Carlos muttered. “They’re here themselves.”

Cindy
looked as hard she could through the cracked, dirty, front window as someone
got out of the car and began walking towards the house. She couldn’t make out
who it was right away, but was able to see two other guys, like shadows,
sitting in the back seat.

Carlos
turned to Pedro abruptly. “You got the packages for them?”

“In
the car,” Pedro said, as the man walking closer to the house moved out of the
shadows and into the light.

Cindy
suddenly grew cold and stared.  Mac was strolling up to the front door, as if
he’d been there a hundred times.

“Mac,”
she breathed.

“You
know the guy?” asked Carlos.

“Of
course I know him.”

Mac
pushed the front door open, walked into the room, and suddenly, completely
stunned, stopped on a dime.