DEATH BY HONEYMOON (15 page)

Chapter 20

Cindy raced home in Clint’s car, anxious to pack her things and catch the next plane she could to Barbados.
The FBI agent was right: she’d never get the answers she really wanted unless she went back there.
And no one else was going to do it for her.
If she really wanted to solve this, to honor Clint’s life, if she really wanted to put this all to rest, she’d just have to go back.

The more she thought about it, The more she realized that this would also give her a chance to go back to where she and Clint had been so happy.
She realized that a part of her had been longing for this—to be back in the place where they were happy, to be able to pick up where they’d left off.

She’d book a room in the same hotel, talk to the staff, see the Coroner, find out the exact condition of Clint’s body.
All things she hadn’t been able to do before.
She would go to the beach where he had gone surfing and tell him herself.

Cindy pulled into the driveway, anxious to get rolling and check the available flights.
Excited, she ran to the door, opened it up and walked into the house.

A cold wave of fear gripped her.

The place was turned upside down.
Tables were knocked over, a curtain torn, magazines scattered on the floor, her favorite vase smashed .
Someone had broken in.

She ran into Clint’s study.
All his files were gone - along with his computer.

Thank God she still had the thumb drive, and had left  hard copies safe with the FBI.

She ran into the bedroom to see if her computer was gone too.
She’d taken to keeping it under the bed, so she could reach for it in the middle of the night.
Miraculously, it was still there.

Cindy immediately reached for the phone and called Officer Fenlen.
To her great relief, he picked up.

“Someone broke into my house,” she told him immediately.
“They grabbed all the files.

Fenlen was quiet.

“I’m scared.”

“Call the local police.
File a report.
And get yourself to Barbados.
I’ll inform the U.S.
consulate that you’re coming.
Stay in close touch.”

Chapter 21

Cindy booked the first flight that was available, a late night flight that was half empty, and leaving that very night.

When she got to the airport, she felt as though she were going back in time.
She and Clint had also taken a late night flight, that left right after the wedding.

“It went great, it went great,” he kept saying, his arms around her, kissing her.

“I never thought we’d have such a wonderful time.
And our families were also happy.
My father and your mother talked a long time.
The band was better than I ever thought it would be.
And did you see Al dancing?”

Cindy had smiled and smiled.
She was exhausted but completely content.
She now had all that she had ever wanted.
She couldn’t wait to get to the beach and lay together on the sand, away from everyone.

As they’d boarded the plane, Clint kept talking and laughing.
He was probably a little high, she’d thought, from all the champagne.

 “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” he kept whispering in Cindy’s ear, over and over during the flight.
It was as though he’d climbed Mt.
Everest and finally reached the top.

Cindy wasn’t sure why he loved her so much, but was happy to hear it, able for the first time in her life, to take it in.
She was sure they had a lifetime of trips like this ahead of them.

Now she slept alone on the plane most of the way.
It felt good being in the air, leaving the mess in the city behind.
But she was also nervous about what lay ahead of her.

 As the plane flew through the air, she dreamt of Clint.
She dreamt that they were on their honeymoon, drinking champagne.
They were back at the hotel, with soft ocean breezes soothing them.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, Cindy saw a small, pocked marked man, carrying a tray with food for them.
The tray was made out of the skin of dead snakes.
Cindy shuddered and let out a little scream.
The man dropped the tray and started running over the rocks, out to the shore, as the snakes slithered wildly all over the floor.

Cindy awoke suddenly on the plane and reached out for Clint’s hand, thinking they were still together.
But the seat next to her was empty.
She shook her head, turned and looked, and then fell back into a restless sleep.

“Prepare for landing,” Cindy was awakened by the sound of the stewardess voice over the loudspeaker.
“We will be descending in about fifteen minutes.
“

Cindy couldn’t believe they were about to land.
She sat up and began to gather her things.
Through the plane window she could see the early morning light begin to rise.
A new day.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.
She had no idea how much she’d wanted to be back here.
She felt so close to Clint, returning to Barbados, as though nothing had changed, as though the world was stable and filled with joy.

The landing was smooth, and as the plane was half empty it took no time getting off.
Cindy went down a shaky plank, got a cup of coffee to take with her at a nearby stand, and walked to the luggage rack to wait for her baggage.

Soon the turnstile began to spill out the few pieces the plane had carried.
Cindy watched the passengers pick up their luggage in the still sleepy airport.
Hers came last.
She took it and went outside to get a cab.

As she walked to the taxi line, the warm, salty air washed over her, relaxing her muscles and bringing a smile to her face.
With all that had happened, it was still wonderful being here.
Cindy shook her hair out and let it fall loosely to her shoulders as she looked up at the sky.
It was soft blue, with light clouds drifting playfully overhead.
She felt so at home here in the Caribbean, as if this were exactly where she belonged.

As she waited a few moments for a cab, she wondered if she would get the same driver she and Clint had before.

She didn’t.
A tall, thin young man, drove up.
He got out of the cab, put her luggage in the back as she got in.

“El Barado Hotel,” she said.

Just as the driver on their honeymoon, this one stopped, turned around and looked at her oddly.
“You sure?”

“Very sure.”

“You know where you’re going?”

Cindy wondered if all the drivers were instructed to warn travelers before taking them there.

“Most go to the West Coast,” He said.
“There’s plenty of rooms available there.”

“I always go to the El Barado,” said Cindy.

“Always?
Yeah?
You like it there?”

Cindy didn’t feel like having a discussion, She wanted to get to the hotel.

 “Let’s go,” she said.

He made a face, turned around, started the car, turned on the radio loud, and drove off.

“Can you make the radio lower?” she said.

“I like it loud,” he said.

The radio blared reggae music for most of the drive.
Cindy leaned near the window and looked out at the little villages she and Clint had passed.
Rows of sugar cane farms and tiny villages of single-story houses once again dotted the landscape.
It was early, nothing had woken up yet and the villages seemed eerie, almost ghost towns, with barely one person to be seen.

In what seemed like no time, the cab wound up the narrow road, behind bushes and towering palm trees, to the El Barado hotel, nestled in the rocks, besides the ocean.
And the beach that had claimed Clint’s life.

Everything seemed closed.
The cab parked in front of the hotel and to Cindy’s surprise the driver tooted his horn loudly to let them know they’d arrived.
Then he got out to get her luggage.

Cindy got out of the cab.
It was shocking to be back here.
The place was exactly as she remembered it, with nothing changed, except that the clouds were quickly becoming a little heavier, and the wind was picking up.

The driver went back into the cab and leaned on his horn again.

“It’s nothing, miss,” he said grinning.
“Do it all the time.
Got to let them know they got a guest.”

At that very second, the entrance door to the hotel flung open and Alex came running out, his arms spread wide.

“Miss Cindy, Miss Cindy” he said, moved to see her.
“What a pleasure to have you back here with us.”

Cindy was thrilled to see him.
But it also felt odd, arriving so early and alone.
This was a honeymoon spot for couples.
But Alex knew she’d been here with Clint.
He remembered what had happened, had taken a special interest in them.
She hadn’t gotten to say good-bye to him properly when she’d left before.
That last day was all a blur.
They’d put her on sedatives to calm her down.
Greerson had been there, accompanying her to the airport.
She didn’t remember seeing Alex at all at the end.

Cindy ran up to him now.
He was such a strong connection to Clint.
She wanted to hug him, like an old friend, but stopped just a moment before she did.

He held out both hands and grasped hers in them.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his eyes welling up with tears.

Cindy grasped his hands in hers.
They gave her strength and comfort.

“Your room is ready,” Alex said.

She’d reserved the same room she and Clint had stayed in.

“I thought maybe you’d like another room,” Alex said tentatively then.
“If you want to change rooms, you can.”

“No,” Cindy said.
She wanted to go through all the steps exactly as they happened.
“No, I appreciate it.
I want the room we stayed in before.”

Alex took the baggage from the cab driver, who was listening intently to every word.
Cindy paid, tipped and thanked him.
He took the money, grinned at her and left slowly through the front door.
Cindy was glad he was gone.

Alex picked up her luggage.
“Did you have a good trip?” he asked,

“Perfect, easy,” said Cindy.

Alex smiled.
“Very good, very good.
Let’s go get you settled.
“

She followed him upstairs to the room.
He opened it and the two of them walked inside.

The room was exactly as she remembered it, the patio overlooking the wide expanse of teeming ocean, the wooden shutters flapped lightly against the windows.
Cindy took a deep, salty breath.
The huge king bed they’d slept in was there, and so were the seashells and conches, laid out in straw baskets on the table.

Alex put her baggage down and seemed to want to say something, but fought it back, staying silent.
He probably wanted to say how sorry he was.
He was probably also wondering what in the world she was doing back here now.
She would tell him, in good time .
Now, she took out some bills to thank Alex.

He shook his head.
“Not necessary, Miss.
It’s a pleasure to have you here.” Then he turned to leave and stopped at the door.
“I hope your stay will be pleasant.
If I can help you with anything, Miss Cindy, I’m right here.”

And then he left.

Cindy was relieved to be alone in the room.
She went to the bed and ran her hand over the light blue, cotton bedspread, the same one that had been here before.
She pulled the bedspread off the bed and held it close, as if she were wrapping Clint around her.

Cindy lay down and stretched out on the bed, looking up at the high wooden, ceiling.
She listened to the wind in the palm trees outside and breathed the salt air .
Everything was exactly the same as before.

Laying there, she felt Clint’s spirit with her strongly.
She hadn’t felt it so powerfully before and felt certain that he would guide her every step of the way.

As she lay there, Cindy went over all the things she wanted to do that day.

First she wanted to walk on the beach, retrace where it happened.

Then, she would go straight to the Coroner’s office to get the report.
She needed details about the condition of Clint’s body.
Up to now she hadn’t been able to bear even thinking about that.
But here in Barbados, a strong energy filled her.
She felt planted in nature, powerful and able to deal with anything.

Cindy closed her eyes and slept for a little while and then awoke, swiftly, upset with herself.
She hadn’t meant to take a nap.
The trip must have tired her out more than she thought.
She checked her watch and jumped out of bed and headed right down to the beach.

Even this early in the day, the tides were in and the waves rolling roughly onto shore.
Cindy loved the sound of the pounding turf.
It cleared her mind and helped her see details she’d never seen before.
She and Clint had run along this very beach together.
It felt wonderful being here now.
She ran faster and faster, in tune to the beat of the waves.

She stopped at the stretch of beach where she’d gone that day Clint died, the spot where his surfboard floated up.
It had been a day pretty much like this one, only the surf had been calmer.
Cindy stood there looking out at the ocean and gazing around on the beach.
There was nothing there that said that a man’s life had been cut short at this spot.
That the surf had swallowed him up.
As if nothing had happened, the waves simply rolled on.

Farnell’s questions came to mind.
How did she know Clint died at this spot?
His surfboard had floated up here, but that didn’t prove anything .
It was a waste of time to stand here wondering.
She had to get to the Coroner’s office, see the report for herself, get the facts.

Cindy broke into a run back.
As she ran, she realized how much of this amazing life she’d been blind to.
She’d lived in a tiny corner of the world with familiar people and situations.
There was no way she could go back to living like that.
It was time to open her eyes and go deeper into the island and what it had done to the man she’d loved.

*