Death by Betrayal (Book #10 in the Caribbean Murder series) (14 page)

“Maybe
she does, maybe she doesn’t,” said Cindy, shaky.  “Maybe my mother just wants
to keep living in her perfect dream world and finding who killed Ann would turn
her life upside down.”

“I’m
sure she’ll help us,” Mattheus ignored Cindy’s comment.

“Don’t
be so sure about anything,” Cindy shot back. “Let’s go back now. You talk to
Frank on your own, then we’ll see what comes next.”

*

They
left the beautiful hiking trails, returned to the hotel and Mattheus went to
find Frank and set up an interview. Cindy went to her room and sat there half
frozen. She could only imagine what would happen. Mattheus would be tough and
relentless. Frank would resent him like hell. Mattheus would push him to the
limit, go for the kill. Outraged, Frank would blurt out what he thought about Mattheus
and his relationship with Cindy. Frank would say things he could never take
back. Afterwards, everything would only grow more difficult for them in the
family.

Cindy
decided to stop it before things got bad.  It would be a while before Mattheus
could find Frank and talk to him. Cindy would go to her mother immediately and convince
her to have Frank give Cindy the password to his computer. That would calm
everything down. Mattheus might not even have to ever grill him at all.

Cindy
forced herself up off the sofa, splashed water on her face, shook her head and
decided to go to her mother’s room immediately and ask for help.

Cindy
stood outside her mother’s suite of rooms on the sixth floor and took a deep
breath.  She hadn’t seen her since the memorial and suddenly felt badly about
it. Their relationship had been so distant and sketchy over the years, Cindy
needed time to for it to change. And, besides, solving Ann’s murder was top
priority. After that, Cindy would take the next steps towards her mother. Out
of respect for Ann, Cindy would try to fill in for her – be more like the
daughter her mother had lost.

Cindy
lifted her hand to the door tentatively and softly knocked. No answer. She
leaned closer to the door and listened in to see if she could hear anything. 
By now it was early evening and all was quiet inside. Unwilling to be deterred,
Cindy made a fist and knocked hard.

“What?
What?” a thin voice answered from a distance. “Who’s there?”

It
was her mother. Perhaps Cindy had awakened her? No matter, she was relieved.  Mattheus
was right. They had to get her mother to help.

Her
mother opened the door swiftly and peered out, looking both sleepy and
confused.

“I
hope I didn’t wake you,” said Cindy, suddenly remembering that her mother
always took late afternoon naps.

 “What
if you did? It’s about time you showed up. Come in,” her mother pulled the door
opened fully.

Preparing
herself for the worst, Cindy took a few careful steps inside.

“To
what do I owe this great honor?” her mother’s voice grew stronger as she pushed
her beautiful, thick, sand colored hair off her face.  Her mother’s hair, which
was only slightly grey by now, had always been her great pride. Mostly she wore
it up off her face, carefully coiffed. It was unusual for her to have it hanging
loose like this.

Cindy
said nothing, just watched her mother rearrange herself, try to put the pieces
back together.

“Well,
say something!” her mother demanded. “Where have you been? What are you doing?
Hanging around with that grimy detective?”

“You
mean Mattheus,” Cindy replied, wanting to refer to him by name, to give him the
respect he so dearly deserved.

“Whatever
his name is, it doesn’t matter,” her mother pulled her lounging robe around
her.

“It
matters to me,” said Cindy.

“Is
that what you came here for? To fight with me now?” Her mother threw her hands
up in the air. “At a time like this?”

“No,
just the opposite,” said Cindy. “I’ve come to ask for your help.”

Her
mother grew silent. “My help? How?”

“With
the investigation,” murmured Cindy.

“Is
that all you can think of? Are you obsessed?” the idea of an investigation
seemed to enrage her mother. “It means more to you to find Ann’s so called
killer, than to spend time with me?”

When
have we ever just spent time together, thought Cindy as she watched her
mother’s lower lip tremble. How could it be different, just like that?  Cindy
decided not to get caught in that discussion, but to stay on careful track.
She’d approach the whole matter naturally, working up to the request to get
Frank’s password.

“I
so badly need to know more about Ann,” Cindy started, walking further into the
room.

Her
mother could relate. “Of course you do, you’ve barely had time to be with her.”

Cindy
looked around. There were several gift baskets filled with fruit and candy placed
on the coffee table and a large bouquet of flowers on a side table near the
patio. Probably from friends back home, thought Cindy.

How
were things between Ann and Frank?” Cindy continued casually then, walking to
the settee.

“What
kind of question is that?” Her mother turned and followed Cindy to the small,
ivory settee and sat down beside her.

“I’m
trying to understand everything,” Cindy let herself look at her mother’s face
fully for the first time. To Cindy’s surprise, it suddenly seemed older than
Cindy remembered, more fragile and lost. “The more I understand, the more I can
help,” Cindy continued.

Cindy’s
mother turned away from her gaze, shaken by the softness in Cindy’s tone.

“What
is there to understand?” she replied, sadly. “Can something like this ever be
made sense of?”

“Yes,”
replied Cindy, “in some ways it can. Once we put the pieces of the puzzle
together it will help us restore order in our lives again.”

“And
what about Ann’s life?” her mother’s strong chin protruded.

“It’s
what Ann would want for us, mom,” Cindy said. “Ann always wanted a life that
was ordered.”

“Mom?”
Cindy’s mother looked startled. “That’s the first time you’ve called me mom for
a very long time.”

Cindy
never really saw her mother as a mom, she’d rarely called her that.

“What
I’m trying to say,” she once again evaded her mother’s comment, “is that the
more we can understand and share information, the better it will be for all of
us.”

“Okay,
okay,” her mother stood up suddenly, and began wrapping her hair up on her head.

“What
do you want to know?”

“What
was going on between Ann and Frank before this happened?” Cindy asked the
question with her heart in her hands. It would have been routine to ask it to
anyone else, but this was her family.

“They
were fine, they were good,” her mother proclaimed. “He was a good husband, he
loved her, I’m sure of that. In fact, he told Ann that, over and over.”

“Told
her that, why?” Cindy was taken aback. “Didn’t she know it?”

“Since
Ann was little she had a tendency to be lonely,” her mother broke in. “She
loved Frank and he loved her and gave her plenty of attention. But recently,
she began to complain to me that wasn’t around enough. Ann was feeling
unnecessary, said Frank was taking more business trips. I said, so what? He’s
growing his business, that’s good, be proud of him. Buckle up and live life,
honey.  All men need a little life of their own, don’t they?” At that her
mother shot a quick look in Cindy’s direction.

“Of
course they do,” Cindy agreed, wondering exactly what her mother meant by a
life of their own?

Her
mother was relieved and surprised that Cindy agreed with her. “Well, I’m glad
someone finally agrees with me,” she said. “Your sister had a side to her that
could be pouty. Did you know that?”

Actually
Cindy didn’t. She’d never thought of Ann that way.

“Ann
wanted things her way,” her mother continued. “She didn’t like not having her
husband around all the time.”

“How
much was Frank gone?” Cindy asked, beginning to feel uncomfortable about
talking this way about her sister.

“Who
knows how much?” her mother didn’t like the question. “I didn’t keep tabs on
him and I told Ann she shouldn’t either. Once you keep tabs on a guy it makes
it worse!”

“Did
Ann keep tabs on Frank?” Cindy’s heart started beating more quickly.

“Yes,”
her mother crouched over gracefully, like a cat about to pounce. “More and more
these days Ann was keeping tabs. It wasn’t like her.”

“I
didn’t know that,” Cindy grew nervous.

“You
didn’t know lots of things, did you,” her mother said. “That’s what happens when
you leave your family and run around the Caribbean. If people here need you,
you have no idea of it.”

Cindy’s
head started to spin.

Her
mother straightened up and laughed a little. “It’s okay, I was around though.
Ann had me.”

“She
also had Frank,” Cindy prompted, wanting to hear more of what her mother would
say.

“Look
Cindy,” her mother suddenly had enough of the little dance they were doing.
“All men have times in their lives when they stray. So what? It’s midlife –
they need it. I told that to Ann. I said, chill, honey, if he’s gone a little
more, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you.”

Cindy’s
heart pounded more violently now. “Stray? Frank was having an affair?”

“Call
it what you want,” her mother seemed irritated. “A fling, an affair, what’s the
difference?”

 “It
makes a difference,” said Cindy, unable to believe what she was hearing.

“Bogus,”
her mother’s voice got loud. “Playtime is playtime. Frank’s a good man.”

Horrified,
Cindy had to immediately calm herself down. This could be something her mother was
just imagining, something she’d spun out of whole cloth. Cindy couldn’t take it
seriously, certainly not without definite proof.

“What
evidence do you have?” Cindy suddenly demanded.

“None,
absolutely none at all,” said her mother. “Just that I know men, and I never knew
one that at some time or another didn’t stray. Do you?”

Cindy
felt tremendously relieved, it was her mother’s assumption, that’s all.

“Ann
never said Frank was with someone else, did she?” Cindy had to be absolutely
certain.

“No,
of course, she never said that,” her mother quipped. “She may not have had any
idea about it even. But she did say she’d gotten a bunch of calls and then hang
ups! Now, what’s that?”

“Could
be anything,” said Cindy, unmoved. “People get crank calls all the time.”

“Or
it could be someone Frank was seeing, and the woman was jealous, trying to
frighten Ann,” her mother’s eyebrows raised.

Cindy
broke out into a sweat. “Did Ann ever suggest anything like that to you?
Anything at all?”

“No,
not directly,” her mother breathed hard. “All she said was that Frank was gone
a lot and she felt unimportant. Some women refuse to see beneath the surface,
but it was obvious to me. ”

“Many
women feel lonely or unimportant,” Cindy fought her. “It doesn’t mean their husbands
are betraying them with someone else.”

“Why
call it betrayal?” her mother was put off. “Maybe Frank wasn’t betraying her, but
just getting what he needed for himself. He could do that and still love her,
couldn’t he?”

That
was a huge question and Cindy couldn’t get into it now. It bothered her that
her mother thought that way, but there was no basis to assume that Frank had
someone else. Cindy knew her mother loved to cook up stories, enjoyed a good
fantasy.

 “I
always believed Frank loved Ann,” Cindy answered quietly. “I always believed
they had a solid relationship.”

Her
mother nodded. “They did. And now she was lonely. Ann definitely told Frank how
she’d been feeling. She told me he arranged this trip to make up for his time
away. He wanted to give her the attention she needed.”

Cindy’s
mother seemed to be glad to be talking about this, getting it all off her
chest.  Cindy was relieved as well. Now it seemed like the perfect moment for
Cindy to take the next step and ask for the password to Frank’s computer.

“You’re
close to Frank, too, aren’t you?” Cindy said then, surprising her mother.

“Of
course I am, for years and years. Why?”

“Listen,
mom,” Cindy repeated, “I need the password to Frank’s computer.”

Her
mother grew pale and her body became rigid. “You need what?”

“It’ll
give me more details about Ann’s death,” Cindy replied quickly.

“Back
with the investigation again?” her mother couldn’t stand it.

“Let’s
stop playing this game,” Cindy suddenly zeroed in. “This is not a joke.”

“Do
I look like I’m laughing?” her mother lashed out.

“I
need to have that password before the police get it or anyone else,” Cindy
proclaimed.

“Why
do the police want it?” her mother’s eyes flared with anger.

“It’s
routine - you check the computer of the person closest to a victim,” said Cindy
professionally.

“Then
check my computer,” her mother’s voice was flailing.

“You’re
not a suspect,” Cindy shot back.

“And
Frank is?” her mother looked horrified.

“He
was held by the police for questioning,” Cindy’s voice grew louder. “He’s only
free because I bailed him out. I need his password and he refused to give it to
me.”

“Held
by the police?” her mother looked as if she would faint.

“I
need to learn more,” Cindy moved in.

“Frank’s
life is private. He doesn’t want you snooping in it,” her mother practically
shouted.

“I’m
not snooping,” Cindy stamped her foot on the floor. “I’m searching for a
killer.”

“Shut
up,” her mother began to tremble. “Your uncles are in the next room. I don’t
want them hearing this.”

“I
want you to get Frank to give me his password, or at least to give it to you.”
Cindy continued, her voice even louder.

“I’ll
do no such thing,” her mother yelled over her. “Frank is not a killer. And
there’s nothing on his computer that could possibly help you, ever.”

Cindy
was startled at how adamant her mother was. Why was she defending Frank so
fiercely?

“Trust
me on this one,” Cindy demanded.

“I
can’t trust you on anything, ever,” her mother began wringing her hands. “You
can leave now. Get out of here.”

“I’m
not going without the password,” said Cindy.

“Get
out, get out!” her mother started yelling. “How dare you come in here and
accuse your own family?”

The
doors to the suite opened and both Ben and Charlie came out.

“What’s
wrong? What’s going on?” asked Ben, agitated, as Charlie stood in the
background watching.

“Cindy
came in here and is insisting that I get the password to Frank’s computer,” her
mother was practically shrieking by now. “She’s accusing Frank or harming Ann.”

“I’m
not accusing anybody,” Cindy yelled out above the fray. “We have to check
everything, there could be leads waiting on it. Leads Frank doesn’t even know
about.”

“Could
be, would be!” her mother was trembling. “All she cares about is finding the
killer, she doesn’t care a thing about me! She comes in here and upsets me!”

Ben
came over and put his arms around her mother. “It’s better for you to come back
later,” he said to Cindy, pointing to the door. “Your mother’s not in any
condition for something like this now.”

“Time
is of the essence, Ben,” Cindy said to him as she got closer to the door.

“Go
ask Frank for the password yourself then,” Ben responded.

“I
did and he wouldn’t give it to me,” Cindy exclaimed.

“Damn
it, damn it,” Ben mumbled, distraught.

“It’s
a reasonable request,” said Cindy. “Will you help me, Ben? Will you get the
password?” Cindy asked as she was practically at the door.

“I
would if I could, but I can’t do it,” Ben replied. “Your mother would never
talk to me again.”

*

 “Slow
down, slow down,” Mattheus kept repeating over the phone as the words bubbled
out of Cindy fiercely.

“I
talked to my mother, she won’t help us,” said Cindy.

“Calm
down, Cindy,” was all Mattheus could say.

“I
can’t,” Cindy uttered. “I’m shocked, I’m hurt.”

“Just
calm down,” Mattheus repeated.

“I
don’t think you should grill Frank directly now,” Cindy kept babbling. “It will
make things worse, I know it will. And you won’t get anything from him,
anyway.”

“I’m
lining up my ducks and then I’ll strike,” said Mattheus. “There’s something I
need to do before Frank and I talk. I’ve got the name of a rich hotel owner
here from my contacts. He’s good friends with Tony Beggio. I’ll talk to him and
see what he can tell me about Frank.”

Cindy
suddenly felt tremendously relieved. It was a better plan. They had to circle
around carefully. Who knew what backlash could happen if they made the wrong
moves in the family?

“What
did you find about Ann and Frank when you talked to your mother?” Mattheus
asked.

Cindy’s
heart clenched. She couldn’t tell Mattheus what her mother suspected. It would
only add fuel to the fire and could be nothing but her mother’s fantasies.
Despite Cindy’s upset with Frank, she didn’t believe he would ever hurt Ann or
be involved with anyone but her. Something else led to Ann’s murder, another
thread they hadn’t yet discovered.

 “My
mother was emotional and nasty,” Cindy finally answered. “I didn’t learn much
of value about Frank and Ann.”

“So,
what’s your next step?” Mattheus asked, haltingly.

“I’m
going to meet Tony Beggio next,” Cindy replied. “I heard he’s giving a party at
his villa. It should be easy enough to get invited.”

“Yeah,
of course,” said Mattheus. “I’ll see to it that you get in with no problem at
all.”