Death by Jealousy (14 page)

“Cindy?”
he said bewildered. “Who told you to come here?”  The muscles in his face grew taut.

“I
came for Allie,” Cindy muttered.

“The
girl’s dead,” Pedro grumbled, his face growing heated.

“Maybe,”
said Cindy, “maybe not?” She liked saying that, liked watching the fear that
flashed over their faces at the idea that it was possible that Allie might
still be alive. Or, at the very least, that her spirit was here with them right
now, watching them all.

“What
are you doing here, Mac?” Cindy asked, feeling suddenly empowered.

“I’m
going to drive you back to the hotel, we’ll talk it over,” said Mac, softly.
Then he looked at the guys in the room. “My boys are in the car. You’ll give it
to them and drive them where they need to go.”

Cindy
shivered. Was Mac in on a drug dealing scheme? Who were the boys waiting in the
back of his car?

Mac
went to the front door the and out to his car.

Cindy
watched him lean in the back window and say something to whoever was waiting
back there. She rushed out the front door of the house after Mac just in time
to see the back door of the car open and two young men duck out. As they made
their way out of the shadows, towards the back of the house, Cindy could have
sworn she saw Jared and Tad.

After
insisting upon paying the taxi driver, Mac drove Cindy away, back up the
incline, through the rocky, dirt roads, to civilization. Cindy was amazed at
how relieved she felt to be in the car with him, returning to the hotel.

As
they took off, Cindy looked out the window, and neither of them said a word for
quite a while. Finally, Mac broke the silence.

“Don’t
ever go back there alone, again,” he said.” You’re playing with fire.”

Cindy
knew he was right.

“There
are parts of this Island you just don’t belong in,” Mac spoke calmly and
definitively. “There’s no reason for you to be there, either. What goes on down
there has nothing at all to do with the case. It’s a side bar.”

“Everything
could have something to do with the case,” Cindy replied. “You never know what
will blow it all open.”

Mac
switched on the radio, and once again, Cindy felt the bristling energy between
them.

“There’s
nothing to blow open anymore,” Mac said as a slow song came on. “You got the
autopsy report. There’s nothing irregular, just what would be expected in a
Scuba drowning accident.”

“So
why don’t I belong down here?” Cindy wanted to hear more.

“How’d
you find out about Carlos, anyway?” he went on, “through one of the girls?”

“Yes,”
said Cindy.

“So?
Allie liked pot. Some of us knew it, some looked the other way. Is that such a
crime?” Mac was undaunted.

“It’s
quite a crime down on this Island,” Cindy replied, “especially if you’re dealing.”

“Allie
wasn’t a dealer,” said Mac. “I promise you that.”

“So,
what was she doing visiting Carlos regularly?”

“She
just went there to pick up stuff for herself. She and Carlos knew each other
for a long time. He was good to her, gave her all she wanted, plus a nice discount.”

Cindy
was surprised that Mac took is so casually.

“Seems
like you knew all about her dealings,” said Cindy, turning sharply to him.

“Of
course I knew,” Mac continued, matter of factly. “It’s my job to know whatever
goes on with anyone connected to the company. I keep an eye on things.” Then he
flashed her a charming smile. Too charming, thought Cindy, as she trembled.

“So,
what brought
you
here?” Cindy continued, as the cool, salty air came
through the car window, blowing over their faces.

“I’ll
tell you if you promise we can have more time to talk, later on,” Mac said. 

“We
can have more time to talk, of course,” said Cindy.

“And,
if you promise,” Mac continued, “that you’ll never go down there again, alone.”

 “I
was actually planning to go down with Mattheus today,” said Cindy.

“Mattheus
is going to be tied up at our office all day,” Mac replied. “That guy’s like a
dog gnawing on a bone.”

“He’s
going through your records,” Cindy replied, “that’s a normal part of an
investigation.” She was interested to hear what Mac would say.

“He’s
obsessed, if you asked me,” Mac went on, “scrambling for whatever he can find.”

Cindy
smiled. “It’s a detective’s job to be obsessed,” she said lightly. As they
drove she felt more and more at ease with Mac and felt the connection between
them grow stronger.

An
old Spanish love song came on and Mac slowed the car down. Cindy was glad, she
was in no rush to get back to the hotel and be in her room alone right now.

“It
seems like you could have a much better life than running around in the
Caribbean, with an obsessed detective, hunting for killers,” Mac said quietly.

He
was right, thought Cindy suddenly, feeling a wave of sadness engulf her.

“You’re
a special woman, Cindy,” Mac turned and looked at her. “I really mean that.”

Tears
welled up in her eyes.

Mac
saw them. “Is something wrong? What’s going on in your life?”

Cindy
wiped her eyes quickly. Once again he’d shifted the focus to her.

“You’re
the one who’s supposed to be telling me about yourself, remember?” she said.

 Especially
what you were doing down there with Carlos?”

“I
remember,” said Mac, as he pulled off the road, under a huge, old tree with
branches that

seemed
to extended forever, creating a little world of its own beneath them. Cindy
felt as if the two of them had entered a natural arbor where they were totally
safe and apart from the world.

 “I’m
a man of my word and I’ll answer your questions, if you’ll answer mine,” Mac spoke
in a throaty tone, as the branches waved slightly in the wind.

“You
first,” said Cindy.

“The
drug regulations are rough on this Island, and stupid, if you asked me,” Mac
went on. “Everyone who comes down here on vacation wants a little pot now and
then. And the people who live and work down here enjoy some, too. Parties and
dinners go on all the time. It’s part of the natural course of business.”

Mac
spoke in such a matter of fact tone that Cindy felt herself getting lulled in,
drawn into his scenario.

“So,
I make sure we always have some on hand,” Mac continued. “It’s a courtesy to
our customers. Carlos is good to us, with nice discounts. It’s as simple as
that. Is it illegal? Maybe. Is it a crime? No.”

“Not
in your view, Mac,” said Cindy slowly as the leaves of the branches rustled
around them.

Mac
smiled and took her hands in his. “You’re not going to arrest me, are you? A
private detective isn’t the same as a cop, is it?” he asked.

“There’s
a fine line,” said Cindy, taking her hands away. Mac was asking her to cover
this up, act as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.

“People
smoke pot all over the world,” he said in a hushed tone.

But
suddenly, the memory of Tad and Jared sitting in the back seat of Mac’s car
suddenly flashed through Cindy’s mind. She remembered the way they’d ducked out
into the shadows and fled to the back of the house.

“What
about Tad and Jared?” she asked.

Mac
looked momentarily startled.

“I
saw them in the back of your car,” Cindy added, waiting for Mac to corroborate
it.

“Jared
takes diving parties out all the time. Folks like a little before they go down,
or, after the dive, up on board. Tad works for us at the company. Same story
there, he’s helping me out.”

Mac
made every detail fall into place. But Cindy felt something was off.

“It
doesn’t add up,” she said quietly.

Mac
lurched back. “Don’t push the envelope,” he said more firmly, “gang violence on
the Island is growing. Those other guys you saw down there are tricky. You don’t
want to mess with them.”

Mac
looked deeply into Cindy’s eyes then, and she felt a wave of concern and
protection, she hadn’t felt in a very long while.

“I’m
concerned for you Cindy,” Mac said.

“Thank
you,” she whispered. Cindy wondered what had happened in his life, why at this
stage he was alone? Although Mac was clearly a hub of the Island’s activities, at
times he also seemed strangely unmoored.

“How
about lunch?” Mac suddenly seemed excited. “I know a great spot you probably
haven’t been to. It’s near old caves and waterfalls, behind a bird sanctuary.
Beautiful.”

“That
would be great,” said Cindy, “but not right now.”

Cindy
needed some time alone to regain her footing, think things over. Mac had the
ability to confuse her logic, stir fantasies of all kinds.

“When?”
Mac wasn’t letting go.

“Not
exactly sure,” said Cindy. “Actually, my sister and her husband are coming down
from Florida to visit today. We’re scheduled for dinner at the hotel.”

“That’s
great,” said Mac, appreciatively. “Good to have family around.”

 “I’ll
call you later on,” she said.

“Is
that a promise?” Mac’s eyes twinkled.

“Yes,
it is,” said Cindy.

Mac
started the car up, relieved. “Okay, then I’ll take you back to the hotel for
now.

*

After
Mac dropped her off at the hotel, Cindy decided to take a walk into town. The
sun had come out and the air grown balmy and inviting. She’d take herself out
for lunch at a café, buy a little gift for Ann, get her head together. She was
glad Mattheus was busy at the office all day. It was good not to wonder where
he was going, who he was seeing on the side.

Cindy
turned North on a narrow street and walked onto a main thoroughfare, letting
the soft wind blow her hair. She stepped off the curb to cross over, when
suddenly, out of nowhere, an old, green car spun around the corner at top speed,
veering right at her.

“Get
Out Of The Way!” a man’s voice yelled.

Cindy
screamed.

A
stranger rushed over and grabbed her by the shoulders, barely pulling her out
of the way!

The
car spun, screeched and sped away, raising a cloud of dust into the air. She’d
missed being run over by a second, could have easily been sprawled on the
ground, dead.

People
on the street gathered around her as Cindy’s knees buckled and she felt faint. The
person who’d pulled her out of danger had his arms around her, steadying her.

“You’re
okay, you’re okay,” he said, “people go crazy down here all the time.  Too much
liquor, too much sun.”

An
old Island woman came over and started rubbing Cindy’s hands. “There’s no good people
around anymore,” she whispered in Cindy’s ear, “someone could be out to get
you. Be careful.”

A
middle aged woman joined in and helped Cindy to a bench.

A
tall British man stood at a distance, shaking his head disconcertedly.

 “I
saw everything,” he commented coolly, “it was just an accident, could have
happened to anyone.”

Cindy’s
heart started uncontrollably pounding. One minute here, the next minute gone.
It was a miracle that she was still breathing. Someone wanted her dead, no
doubt about it. The angels were with her, they’d pulled her to safety, fast.

“It
was a joy ride,” another man commented. “That’s what these idiots do for fun.”

“You’ll
feel better in a few minutes,” the first man, with his arms on her shoulders
said.

When
Cindy calmed down, she reached for her phone. To her amazement it was Mac she
was dialing, not Mattheus.

Thankfully,
Mac picked up immediately.

“Someone
almost ran me over,” Cindy breathed into the phone. “They came right at me.”

Mac’s
voice grew taut. “Where are you? Don’t move a muscle. I’ll be there in a
minute.”

“Hurry,”
Cindy barely said.

*

Mac
appeared in what seemed like an instant and rushed to the bench where Cindy was
sitting, edging others out of the way.

“Are
you hurt?” he was agitated.

“She’s
fine, she’s fine,” the cool British man remarked.

“Let’s
get out of here,” Mac said to Cindy. “Can you get up, are you dizzy?”

“I’m
fine,” Cindy said, letting him help her stand and leaning against his strong
body, as he led her to his car.

Once
in the car, she felt her body trembling from the shock of what had almost taken
place. There was no question that someone wanted to kill her, the car had a
purpose, it was coming straight at her.

 “We
need to talk,” Mac said, turning to her. “Do you want me to take you back to
the hotel?  Are you up to going to a quiet spot and having lunch?”

 Cindy
didn’t want to go back to the hotel at the moment.

 
 “A quiet place for lunch is fine,” she said. She was hungry and it would be
grounding to be somewhere else, have something to eat, and speak to Mac openly.

 Mac
started the car and drove very slowly then, not saying a word. They drove
through a little village and then up a hill and round a bend. The low, wooden
restaurant was nestled in a cove of trees, near a waterfall. As they approached
the sound of birds filled the air.

“You’ll
love it here,” said Mac, opening the car door and ushering Cindy out of it,
solicitously and into the restaurant.

They
were seated at a small table near the window with flowers on it, a tumbler of
Sangria, and two glasses.  Mac poured the Sangria slowly.  Cindy took her glass
and drank some. Cindy was aware that it was Mac she’d turned to. She hadn’t called
Mattheus in her time of need.

“I
want to hear every detail of what happened,” Mac said solemnly, sounding like a
detective himself. Cindy smiled. She felt better, away from the center of town.

“Someone
was out to mow me down,” Cindy said simply. “From out of nowhere an old car
ripped around the corner and came right at me.”