Death by Desire (Caribbean Murder Series, Book 4) (12 page)

A handsome, rugged, dark haired young man, with
a small scar on his chin, stood there talking to a few other people. Rori was
next to him laughing, holding a drink in her hand.

“I need his full name and address,” said Cindy.
“I’ve got to talk to him right away.”

“Please don’t say you found out from me,” Wynn
started shaking.

“Of course I won’t,” Cindy assured her. “You
can count on me.”

“For what?” asked Wynn.

“For everything,” said Cindy, taking her hand. “You’re
a brave woman, Wynn, and you’ve been a big help. Both Tiffany and I thank you
for everything.”

The moment Cindy returned to the hotel, she saw
Mattheus waiting for her in the lobby.

“Where were you gone to for so long?” he asked,
walking over to her, edgy.

Cindy smiled to herself. Where were
you
last night? she thought, and glanced at her watch casually.

“I’ve only been gone a few hours,” she said. “I
told you where I was going before I left this morning.”

“It’s been more than a few hours,” Mattheus
responded. “It’s almost the middle of the afternoon.”

Cindy looked at him oddly. “Do I have to check
in every hour?”

“Okay,” he said, putting his hand on her arm, reassuringly.
“Sounds like we have to talk.”

Cindy shrugged. She liked it that Mattheus
picked up on clues immediately when things weren’t quite right between them.

“I did something to offend you,” he said. “It’s
written all over your face.”

Cindy smiled.

“Want to tell me what I did?” He smiled too. “How
about getting a quick drink at the bar so you can fill me in.”

Clearly, Mattheus knew his way around women,
read them like a book. He always knew how to make Cindy smile at her own foolishness.
She liked it.

 “Sure,” said Cindy as they walked to the bar,
suddenly feeling needed.

They took a quick seat at the bar, ordered rum
and coke and relaxed a moment.

“Was last night useful?” asked Cindy.

“Ahh, that’s it,” Mattheus said. “I didn’t take
you to the party with me. It got you thinking,” he laughed.

“You didn’t come down for breakfast,” Cindy corrected
him. “I was just curious about what you found out.”

“You were curious if I spent the night with one
of the dames who accosted me at the party?”

Cindy laughed.

“You’re right there, they accosted me, but I
didn’t spend an extra second with any of them.”

“That’s not the point,” said Cindy. “You
absolutely have the right to spend time with anyone you like.”

“In the middle of a murder investigation?” Mattheus
asked.

“Time off is your time.”

“Cindy,” Mattheus said, “that’s crazy. I’m here
for a purpose and so are you. Do you think I’d let my head get spun around by
gorgeous women, scantily dressed?”

“Of course you would,” said Cindy.

“A spinning head is one thing,” said Mattheus. “Doing
something about it is another.”

“True,” said Cindy.

“Would you allow yourself that?” Mattheus
asked.

His question took her off guard. “No, of course
not,” she said.

“So, why should I be different?”
Cindy looked over at him with renewed admiration. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“It’s okay, it’s natural,” he said. “And,
actually, I’m flattered that you cared. Flattered and touched.

Cindy blushed. This wasn’t a conversation she
was comfortable having.

“What about you?” he said, taking her off the
hook quickly. “How did it go today?”

““I
have important news.” said Cindy. “I was actually going to tell you the second
I got back.” “What?”

“Tiffany was having an affair with a guy named
Frances, when she was killed.”

“Are you kidding me?” Mattheus’ jaw fell open.

“I know, it’s shocking.”

“It’s a game changer,” he said, his voice
growing urgent. “Who’s the guy?”

“Someone she’s known a long time. He’s down on
the island now, was actually at the engagement party.”

“You’re sure about this?”

“Her older sister Wynn told me about it. She’s
the most dependable of them all, solid and clear. She felt that Tiffany really loved
him.”

“Whew.” Clearly Mattheus was taken aback. “Did
Tad have any idea what was going on?” Mattheus slowly absorbed the information.

“Wynn is convinced that no one knew a thing,
especially Tad.”

“She’s convinced, but I’m not. Okay, so, what
are we doing sitting here? Let’s get over to talk to Frances, this second.”

*

Frances’s family’s home was high up on a hill,
at the foot of a craggy mountain. When Cindy called his voice was a bit
slurred, but he said they could come right over. The moment Cindy and Mattheus
ran the front door bell, he came down himself to let them in.

Frances was about Tiffany’s age, good looking,
with dark hair, suntanned, with a small, scar on his face. He stood there, a
little disheveled but rugged looking, dressed in shorts, a ripped T shirt and a
bottle of beer in his hand.

“Come on in,” he said, high strung and discombobulated.

The house was big and messy, with fieldstone
floors, magazines strewn around, furniture placed at odd angles and too many
plants lined up near the windows.

“No one’s home right now,” he said. “Parents
are out on their boat with friends.”

“When are they coming back?” asked Cindy.

“Who the hell knows?  Beats me. They go out for
days at a time,” said Frances.

Cindy wondered if he was drunk or high on
something. She and Mattheus walked in, cleared a space on the sofa and sat
down.

“I guess you’re interviewing all of Tiffany’s
friends?” Frances asked as he sat on a stool close by.

“Not all of them,” Mattheus said. “We picked
you for a reason.”

Frances rubbed his hands on his knees quickly. “Oh
yeah, what?”

Clearly, Mattheus was trying to make Frances
uneasy, knock him off his game, get him to talk, thought Cindy.

“Want to tell us about what went on between you
and Tiffany? Mattheus let a nasty tone creep into his voice.

“What am I supposed to say?” said Frances. “Tiffany
and I knew each other for years. We were friends.”

“Just friends?” asked Mattheus, grinning
suggestively.

Frances was getting more uncomfortable by the
minute. Despite herself, Cindy wanted to calm him down. She stopped herself
though. She knew it could be useful to push people to the edge, shake up their defenses,
get them to spill.

“I heard the two of you were much more than
friends,” said Mattheus.

Frances’s eyes opened wide at that. “Yeah? Who’d
you hear that from?”

“It doesn’t matter who,” said Mattheus.

Frances threw Cindy a long, suspicious glance. “From
her?”

“Frances,” Mattheus stood up threateningly and
walked closer to him.  “The game is up. Tell us what happened between you and
Tiffany.”

“I told you,” Frances said, “we were friends. What
else do you want me to say?”

“We’ve been in touch with the medical examiner,”
Mattheus was making it up as he went along, trying to smoke out Frances.

“Oh yeah? What’d he say?”

 “Medical examiner thinks Tiffany was pregnant
when she died.”

Frances jumped up. “What?”

“And the DNA’s gonna tell who the father is.”

 “What the hell are you telling me? She never
said a word about being pregnant to me,” Frances could hardly catch his breath.

“Why would she tell you a thing like that?”
Mattheus was closing in.

“If it was my baby, she’d let me know,” Frances
shouted.

Mattheus shouted louder, “Your baby? You were
lovers?”

“Sure we were lovers,” Frances was starting to
freak.

“For how long?”

“About six months,” he was running his hands
frantically through his hair.

“Was she sleeping with anyone else at the time?”
asked Mattheus.

Frances started pacing back and forth.

“She was sleeping with Tad, but it couldn’t be
his. That baby was mine, for sure.”

“Why couldn’t it have been Tad’s?” asked
Mattheus.

“Because they hardly slept together. Once in a
while, but it meant nothing to her.”

“That’s what they all say,” Mattheus rubbed it
in.

Frances grew furious, “But I’m sure, dude. It
was a whole different thing between Tiffany and me.”

“That’s why she got engaged to Tad?” Mattheus
said, sarcastic.

“It was temporary,” Frances hissed.

Cindy was stunned. Was that what Tiffany told
him? That she’d end up with him?  Cindy suddenly felt badly for him.

“Tiffany got engaged to make her family happy,
to keep her crazy mother from having another nervous breakdown,” Frances spun
into a different state of mind. “Her family never liked me much. I never liked
them.”

“Why not?” asked Cindy.

“Who the hell cares?” Frances spit out. “People
get engaged all the time and the wedding day never comes.”

“You didn’t want it to come, did you?” said
Mattheus.

“It wasn’t going to come,” Frances breathed,
Tiffany promised me that.

“But, you killed her to make sure,” Mattheus
said.

“Are you nuts? I swear I didn’t kill her. I
loved her, she loved me. Why in the world would I kill her?”

“Ten dollars says you did,” said Mattheus
stepping closer to him.

“You got to be crazy!” Frances reeled back and
forth.

“What were you doing when she was murdered?”

“I was here, home alone.”

“Doing what?”

“Doing cocaine,” Frances said, “thinking things
over.”

“That’s how you usually spend your days?”

“How I spend my days is my business, Mister.”

“Not when the woman you were sleeping with was
found murdered.”

“I didn’t do it,” Frances whimpered.

“Was anyone at home with you that day? Anyone
see you?”

“No one saw me. My parents were out on the boat
with friends. They’re always out on the boat with friends. I’m not lying to you
about anything.”

“Prove it then.”

“How the hell can I prove it? You want me to
jump into the ocean and kill myself?”

“That’s a strange thing to say,” said Mattheus.
“Why would a completely innocent guy kill himself?”

Frances was sweating heavily. “Oh Jesus,” he
said, and covered his face with his hands. “Now the baby’s gone too.”

“Do you have any idea who may have done this,
Frances?” Cindy asked quietly, trying to calm him down.

“How do I know? I’ve been thinking about it
since it happened. It’s driving me crazy. I can’t even leave the house.”

“Did Tiffany ever tell you about anyone who had
it in for her?”

Frances’s eyes darted back and forth. “She had
some spats with a few friends, but nothing serious. Those friends of hers were
always throwing darts at each other. It’s how they spent their days.  It didn’t
mean anything. She was used to it.”

“Was one of them particularly jealous of her?”
Cindy asked quickly.

“Not really,” said Frances. “Not that I know.”

“How come she was sleeping with you and engaged
to Tad at the same time?”  Mattheus asked again, returning to the same point,
like a dog chewing on a bone. “What kind of guy sleeps with someone else’s fiancée?”

“I knew Tiffany long before she took up with Tad,”
Frances said. “She and I always had a thing for each other, even though we just
stayed friends. But then, all of a sudden, when she started dating him, everything
turned around. She was nervous, lonely, I saw it in her eyes. I asked her about
it one night at a party when he was out of town. One thing led to another.
Jesus, neither of us had any idea how incredible it would be between us. We
really fell in love.”

“Why didn’t she break up with Tad, then?” asked
Mattheus, irritated.

“She said she was going to break it up, but not
just yet.”

“And that didn’t bother you?”

“How could it? He was no match for what was
going on between us.”

“You were cheating on him behind his back,”
said Mattheus, his jaw tightly set.

“Tad got what he needed from the relationship,”
Frances defended himself. “He wasn’t a victim of anything.”

“No, she was the victim,” Mattheus dug in.

“Oh God,” Frances started trembling. “I miss
her, I really do.”

“Look, I’m going to have to call this into the
police,” Mattheus said quickly.

France’s eyes narrowed. “You have nothing
better to do than nail a guy who lost someone he really loved? Go to hell.”

The pain in his voice pierced through Cindy.

“I’m not nailing anyone,” said Mattheus. “It’s
my duty to call the police and let them decide what to do.”

“You’re a rotten freak,” Frances mumbled, “a
coward.”

“Take it easy,” Cindy went over to him.

He pushed her away, “You get the hell away from
me, too. The two of you stink.”