Death by Divorce (4 page)

“You also need to talk to Rocko Lansing, the Captain of his fleet. He knows more about Ames’s business contacts and activities than anyone else. You also need to talk to his business partner, Dale. He comes regularly and will be in town for the Millionaire Yacht Festival in a little while. It takes place each year. I’ll also introduce you to the police who have been on the case since day one. They’ll tell you what they found.

You’ll listen to everything, put it all together, and the answer will come. And I want you to let me know what you find each step of the way. I’ll keep you from covering ground that’s already been covered and the dead ends. ”

Cindy felt a bit overwhelmed for a moment, out of her league. What had she gotten herself into? Did she really have the skills or tools to do what was needed of her?

“Did you ever think of getting a real professional detective?” Cindy asked then.

Dalia looked put off. “Why?”

“I’m not a professional. I’m new at this. The only case I ever investigated was my husband. ”

“And you uncovered the truth, when no one else did, including the FBI.”

“It wasn’t dumb luck: you searched everywhere, you were smart, you wouldn’t stop, even when your life was threatened.”

That was true.

“Are you afraid to do this again for me?” Dalia turned and faced her directly.

“No, I’m not afraid,” Cindy said. “I just want to make sure that you have the best person you possibly can.”

“I have the best person,” Dalia said definitively, and threw her arms around Cindy, giving her a hug. “And I’ll pay you well for it, too. I plan to give you $10,000 up front. When you find Ames alive, you’ll receive another $50,000, all cash.

“And, by some very strange and distant chance,” Dalia continued, “if Ames turns up and he’s not alive, I’ll pay you $40,000.”

Cindy was shocked. She wasn’t doing this for the money.

“I don’t want anything,” she said. “That’s not why I came.”

“Nonsense,” Dalia said, dismissively. “It may not be why you came, but if you’re going to work for me, you get paid.
Everyone
who works for me gets paid. ”

Cindy felt odd. She didn’t like Dalia’s tone, the idea of working for her, of being her employee. But she could see that money meant nothing to her at all, and that she wouldn’t accept her help otherwise.

“Are we good?” asked Dalia. “Will you do it?”

Cindy looked out the window, off into the horizon, thinking long and hard. She saw the crashing waves against the sunset, and thought, once again, of Clint.

If she had had someone like her, to help her search for Clint at the beginning, maybe it could have made a difference. Maybe Clint would still be alive today.

How could she possibly say no?

Cindy decided to spend the rest of the afternoon looking over each room in the house, examining Dalia’s photo albums, and reading the articles Dalia had collected from many newspapers and magazines.

The articles all basically said the same thing: that Ames had been a good man and the search for him came up with nothing. There was lots of speculation about what happened though. Most agreed there had been an accident, Ames had probably drowned at sea. Cindy shivered when she read that -- it was so reminiscent of Clint. Apparently, Ames spent a great deal of time on his boat sailing, both with friends and alone. The day he disappeared, his boat was found unmoored in the waters, drifting alone. That was the main clue they focused on.

The afternoon he disappeared had suddenly grown windy and many thought Ames might have been drinking and fallen over board. Some suggested that he was out on deck, near the edge of the boat and had a dizzy spell. A couple of articles quoted Ames’s physicians saying that he’d complained of dizziness in the past month or so. One article speculated about suicide.

But there was no note, nor had Ames ever displayed any signs of depression. Everyone said he was vibrant and active, involved in life to the brim, and that his cargo fleet was thriving. No one could even think of any enemies he might have had, who would have made life hard for him.

It was all just a little too perfect for Cindy -- not only the articles, but the intense foliage, beaches and beauty of the island. Cindy couldn’t help but wonder what lay under the veneer of this ideal life that Ames had publicly constructed. It wasn’t hard for Cindy to imagine that someone here on the island might have wanted to do him harm.

Cindy read through the articles a couple of times. Everything seemed set in stone. She couldn’t allow these pieces to prejudice her, or close her mind to other possibilities. Dalia was right to bring in someone new, someone who didn’t know Ames or the island.

Dalia was mostly silent at dinner with Cindy on the patio. She seemed tired and uneasy, picking at her food and attempting small talk without much success. A small muscle under her eye twitched and stopped and then started again. Now that Cindy had settled in, and the excitement of her arrival had passed, it was as if a cloud had come over Dalia. All during dinner she seemed to be in a fog. Cindy well understood what she must be feeling.

“It’s okay,” Cindy had said to her at one point, “we can eat quietly. I know how hard it can be to keep up social chatter after something like this. ”

Dalia looked at her appreciatively. “You’re kind, Cindy,” she said softly, “and you’re smart.” Then she handed her plate to Rosa, who slid on and off the patio, bringing food and taking it away.

Cindy couldn’t quite get used to Rosa, the way she appeared from out of nowhere and then disappeared into the background again. She never smiled and still hadn’t met Cindy’s glance.

“Rosa’s odd,” Cindy said to Dalia, after Rosa had left the patio, her hands full of plates.

“No, she’s just very quiet and shy. Rosa was badly beaten as a child, when Ames found her and took her into his home and rescued her from hell. She’s worked for him as a housekeeper for years, but he’s like a father to her, and she adores him. She’s very upset and confused that he’s missing now. ”

“I guess so,” Cindy said and the two of them finished their dinners, in silence.

After dinner, before going to bed, Cindy took a long bath in the wonderful Jacuzzi in her room. She appreciated the time alone and being able to unwind. When she got out of the bath, she dried herself, slipped into a flowing robe and looked at herself in the long mirror on the wall. To her surprise, she looked quite different from even a few months ago. Her long blonde hair was still thick and wavy, but the young, slightly hesitant woman with the fluttering eyes that used to greet her in the mirror had disappeared. She looked taller, more shapely and forceful. Her eyes were clearer and her lips fuller as well. Cindy barely recognized herself for a moment. There had been an incredible transformation, and she felt it was far from over yet.

She turned away from the mirror and went out onto her patio. Incredible stars spread over the sky, like a sparkling canopy of light, greeting her. Gazing up at the sky, Cindy thought about how much Clint would have loved it here. They would have gone snorkeling, listened to Calypso, gone to a fine restaurant, danced, made love.

Cindy could almost feel his energy around her, and wondered if he had any idea of where she was now and what she was doing. Clint had always loved Cindy’s adventurous spirit, but neither of them ever imagined she’d be involved in solving crimes. Would he think she was crazy taking this case on? Or would he approve of her coming back down to the Caribbean, trying to help? It seemed natural to her, as if her own life had prepared her for this unexpected next step. It seemed impossible to return to life as she knew it. And she couldn’t imagine what else she could be doing.

It was destiny, Cindy then decided, that had brought her down here now.

*

When she awoke early the next morning, Cindy was excited to get going and speak to the police. She dressed in white slacks and a short sleeve, paisley, silk shirt with a light sweater over it. She didn’t have to put on much, makeup either. Already her skin had a lovely glow from being outdoors and in the sun. To look professional, she pulled her long, flowing hair back and tied it at her neck.

After a quick breakfast, she and Dalia got into the car and drove through a narrow road, flanked by fragrant bushes, into town. In less than ten minutes they were at the police station, a small, two story building-- made of white stucco. The day was fresh, clear and beautiful, a perfect day to be in the ocean, swimming, snorkeling, surfing. Not a day, Cindy thought, to be searching for the possible remains of your friend’s husband.

“I’ll introduce you to the police,” said Dalia, “then I’m going back home. They’ll bring you back when you’re ready. ”

“Fine,” said Cindy.

When they walked into the main office of the station, two cops were standing there, waiting.

Dalia walked up to them, quickly. Obviously, she knew them well. Cindy walked close beside her.

“Mattheus, this is Cindy,” Dalia spoke to the cop on the right. He was a good looking guy in his late thirties, sun-tanned, with blue eyes, and dark hair.

Mattheus seemed taken aback when he saw Cindy. He extended his hand.

“Hi,” he said, gruffly.

Then Dalia turned to Cindy. “Cindy, this is Mattheus’s partner, Sand.”

Sand, a local, was probably mid-forties, heavier, with big muscles, narrow eyes and a slight paunch.

Sand didn’t shake Cindy’s hand, just shook his head and laughed. “This is the new detective on the case?”

“This is it,” said Dalia, routinely.

“So, you think a woman’s going find something we didn’t?” Sand went on.

“I just want a fresh eye,” said Dalia. ”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Sand, disparagingly. “We know. The chief of police said to do what you want. Your husband was a big guy on the island, so now the Chief’s pacifying you. ”

Cindy didn’t like Sand, and she could see the feeling was mutual. Clearly, he was threatened by her presence.

Mattheus interrupted. “Okay,” he said, pointing to a chair, “You can sit down here, let’s talk.” His voice had a rough edge.

“I’m going back now,” said Dalia. “When you’re finished, you can drive Cindy back to the villa.” Then, she suddenly turned and left. Cindy sat on the chair Mattheus motioned to. He sat opposite her, tapping his fingers on the desk. Sand sat across from the two of them.

“I’m leaving this to you,” Sand said to Mattheus. “You fill the little lady in.”

Cindy felt her jaw tighten. “I’d appreciate that. I know you’ve gone through everything, but Dalia just wants a fresh eye. ”

Both Sand and Mattheus laughed.

“How fresh, honey?” Sand asked.

“That’s enough, Sand,” Mattheus interrupted. “I’ll take care of this.” Then he turned to Cindy. “So tell us more about you. What’s your background? ”

Cindy took a deep breath. “I was a researcher at a large newspaper in New York, tracking down leads.”

Mattheus listened with interest. He had a rugged, weather-beaten look, as if he’d seen a lot in his day.

“That’s it?” he responded, when Cindy paused.

She nodded.

“She’s an amateur,” Sand snickered.

“I
am
an amateur,” Cindy promptly agreed. “The only case I’ve solved so far is a death in Barbados. He went surfing and never returned. Everyone said it was an accident. It wasn’t. He was killed. He was my husband. It happened on our honeymoon. ”

Then the both of them got quiet. Apparently they hadn’t heard about it.

“Jesus Christ,” Mattheus said.

“The murderer’s been convicted,” Cindy continued, in a business-like fashion. She wondered if that would qualify her, in their minds, for what she was doing now.

“Good work,” said Mattheus, taken aback. “I’m sorry about it,” he said, softening.

Sand just sat there, shaking his head. “It’s a lousy, rotten, painful world,” he muttered.

“Anyway,” Cindy continued, not wanting sympathy from either of them, “I’m an old friend of Dalia, from high school. She read about what happened to me, and gave me a call. I’m down here to lend a hand. ”

Mattheus stood up abruptly, and walked around. “Want a glass of water?” he said. Something about Cindy and the story apparently touched a nerve.

“No, I’m fine,” she said.

He got himself a glass of water, came back and sat down. “Rotten luck,” he said to her.

“Yes,” said Cindy, professionally, not giving into the sorrow and discomfort she was feeling. “And, what can you tell me about Ames?”

Mattheus grinned, a half grin. It was easy to see that he liked Cindy’s spirit. “You’re all business, eh?” he said.

“I came down for a reason,” Cindy replied. “Dalia said time was of the essence.”

“You’ve seen the police reports?” Mattheus asked.

“Yes, but I want to hear about it from you.”

Mattheus liked that. “Smart.”

“Show her the island,” Sand chimed in. “Let her see where they found the boat drifting. Give her a feeling of what’s going on. ”

“You plan to talk to other people too?” asked Mattheus.

“After I’ve talked to you,” said Cindy. “I was hoping we’d all work together on this.”

Mattheus smirked. “We’ve done all we can do for now. Of course, if you come up with something fantastic--. ”

Cindy found it tiring being with both of them, as if she were constantly hitting up against a wall. Clearly, they felt irritated by her presence, as if it cast doubt on them. It didn’t look as if they were about to offer information on their own. Cindy felt shut out.

“I’m sure you’ve done everything,” Cindy said calmly.

“We’ve been working on this night and day,” Mattheus said. “Yeah, I’ll take you around, show you the island, let you know what we’re doing and what we’ve come up with. The police chief said to do it. So, I will. ”

“Thank you,” said Cindy, irritated by his imperious attitude.

Mattheus looked up at her then and smiled a tiny smile, “Hey, it’s nothing personal,” he said quietly. “We all just got our jobs to do.”

*