Death by Proposal (2 page)

The
early morning light shone on Clay as he slept in the king size bed in the
deluxe suite he’d reserved for himself and Kate. This was a special vacation, a
time they’d remember their whole life long. He wanted it to be perfect in every
way.  

Clay
stretched slowly and then reached out to pull Kate close to him. His arms swept
her side of the bed, but no one was there.

Clay
opened his eyes wider, quickly rolled over and gazed at the empty space.  Kate’s
pillow was rumpled and the beautifully embroidered quilt on her side was tossed
aside. She’d probably woken up a few minutes earlier and was in the bathroom,
showering.  Kate had told him she was an early riser. There was nothing to feel
uneasy about.

Clay
rubbed his hands over his face and got out of bed. He’d surprise her in the bathroom,
jump into the shower with her and cover her with hugs. Kate would love that.

As
Clay went to the bathroom he looked around at the beautiful suite. It was
perfect for the occasion, elegant, spacious and stocked with wine, crackers,
cheese, fruit and chocolates for both of them.

“I’m
here, sweetheart,” Clay said, as he flung open the bathroom door.

To
his surprise the room was quiet, the shower not running. No one was there.

“Kate?”
Clay called out, nervously.

No
answer. Damn.

“Kate!”
his voice got louder, as he slammed the bathroom door closed and went rummaging
through the suite. She must be playing some kind of game with him, thought
Clay. Women did that. They thought it was cute. Clay never fully understood
women, but when he met Kate it had been different. He felt comfortable with her
right away. She never seemed like someone who would play these silly games. He
was wrong about that. She was doing it now. He had no idea why.

 “Kate,
Kate,” he kept calling.

It
was early, only seven in the morning. Had she woken up early, been unable to
sleep and gone downstairs for breakfast? He doubted it, but who knew? This was
a life changing week-end for her and maybe she couldn’t sleep. Maybe she needed
a little time on her own.

“Kate,
Kate,” Clay kept calling as he scoured every corner of the suite. Nothing had
been moved or changed in any way. Her beautiful, blue dress still lay draped over
the back of the beige velvet chair, exactly where she’d left it last night.
Wouldn’t she have hung it up if she’d gotten up, dressed for breakfast and gone
downstairs alone?

Clay
pulled open the closet doors. Kate’s clothes were hung perfectly, as when she
unpacked. He ran his hand across them. They were elegant, too, just like she
was. Everything about her was perfectly coordinated. He had no idea why she was
doing this now.

“Damn,”
Clay grumbled, as he reached for his khakis and T shirt. He’d have to go
downstairs to find her. Before he did, one more thing crossed his mind. Could
she be out on the patio? Had she woken up, gone out to rest on the lounge out
there and fallen back to sleep? That had to be it. Suddenly Clay remembered
Kate saying that she loved sleeping under the stars. Immediately, he felt
better.

“Kate,”
he called as he stepped out on the patio.  But the lounge was also empty. No
one there either.

Before
he left the patio to find her, Clay thought of looking downstairs. Could Kate be
outside taking a walk, enjoying the incredible scenery around the courtyard? By
now he couldn’t put anything past her. Obviously, there were sides to her he
never knew about.  Clay walked to the edge of the patio and looked down.

Suddenly,
his entire body froze and grew numb. Someone was laying on their back, spread
out on the courtyard. They weren’t sleeping, they weren’t moving.  Clay leaned
further to see who it was.

“Kate!”
a fierce scream suddenly rose from the bottom of his heart up through his lungs
out through his throat.  Clay’s eyes blurred and his heart pounded as his
desperate shouts got wilder, echoing through the sleeping hotel. Windows and
doors began opening. Guests began stepping out on their patios, looking down.
Clay barely heard other screams in the background, or the rustle of people
rushing downstairs. He barely heard the sound of the police sirens approaching.

“Kate!
Kate!”

Frozen,
he just held onto the patio railing for dear life. He could hardly breathe.

It
was her. It was Kate.

The
sound of desperate shouts rang through the morning air waking Cindy and
Mattheus abruptly. They jumped out of bed, ran to their patio and looked down
into the courtyard below. A crowd had gathered surrounding something. It was
impossible to see what from here.

Cindy
looked around at the other patios in the hotel. Each one was filled with guests
craning their necks, talking and calling to one another.

A
middle aged couple stood on the patio next to theirs. The woman leaned towards
Cindy and called out, “Do you know what’s happened?”

“I
don’t,” said Cindy.

“I
heard someone’s laying dead down there. Looks like they jumped.”

“My
God,” Cindy said, her heart pounding.

Mattheus
drew closer, putting his arms around Cindy.

“When
did it happen?” Cindy called back to the woman.

“Let’s
go back inside,” said Mattheus.

“No
one knows yet,” the woman responded. “The police just arrived on the scene. It’s
horrible.”

“Who
was it?” asked Cindy.

“A
guest at the hotel,” the woman called over the sounds of the birds that had
flown into the trees and stood on the branches chirping loudly.

“Cindy,
let’s go back inside,” Mattheus insisted.

“But
something terrible has happened,” Cindy felt shaky.

“We
don’t know what,” Mattheus said softly, “and we can’t see anything from here.”
Then he took her arm and led her off the patio back into their room.

Cindy
sat down on the edge of the bed and put her head in her hands. It was awful to
wake up like this, the cries had cut through her like a call to battle.

Mattheus
went over to the refrigerator and poured her a glass of orange juice.

“It’s
incredible that something like this would happen right under our nose, when we’ve
come to get away,” Cindy murmured.

Mattheus
handed her the juice and Cindy took it gratefully.

“Thanks,”
she said. It was cool and refreshing and helped her wake up.

“Suicides
are happening everywhere in the world,” Mattheus said as he sat down beside
her. “This is a place for the rich and famous. Makes sense they’d come down
here and decide to end it all. This has nothing to do with us.”

Cindy
remembered Mattheus’s old bitterness towards rich people. It had no place here
and now. She looked up at him and despite his comment, he looked wonderful.
There was a strength and peace about Mattheus she hadn’t seen in a long time.
It actually surprised Cindy to see him so planted in himself again. Their night
together had been marvelous too, more than either of them could have ever hoped
for. Cindy remembered that Mattheus always was more centered and giving after
they’d been happy together. He was a truly a man who needed a woman, though he
never would have said so himself.

Cindy
smiled and stroked his face. “Our night together was amazing,” she said.

He
smiled broadly, nodding. “And I don’t want anything to spoil it, ever.”

Cindy
got up to put the glass away. “Do you want me to get you some juice, too?”

Mattheus
got up and walked beside her. “No, you’ve already given me everything I’ve ever
needed.”

Cindy
stopped and looked at him surprised. It was wonderful to be on the same page
again, fulfilling each other so deeply.

“Let’s
go back to bed now,” he whispered.

Cindy
turned and looked at him stunned. “Now? After something terrible has just
happened down there.”

“But
we don’t know what, and it’s not even our business,” Mattheus replied. “This is
bum luck to have happened here on our vacation, but we can’t let it get in the
way.”

“In
the way of what?” Cindy was confused.

“Of
us, of our time together,” Mattheus answered quickly.

“It
won’t get in our way, but something has happened, Mattheus. We can’t just
pretend it hasn’t. We have to find out more,” said Cindy.

“Why?”
asked Mattheus, put out.

Cindy
was startled by his response. “Are we just supposed to go through our day as
though someone didn’t die under our window?”

“It
wasn’t under our window,” Mattheus insisted. “It’s the hotel’s window. We’re
just guests. We’re here to be together, enjoy each other, make plans for our
life.”

“Of
course, I understand,” said Cindy, “but don’t you want to at least find out
what happened?”

“If
you want the truth, I do not,” said Mattheus firmly, “I want to lay back down
in bed with you and hold you in my arms.”

Cindy
couldn’t do it. “I want that too, but not this second,” she said.

“Cindy,”
Mattheus looked at her firmly, “this second is all we’ve got.”
“This second and then the next one,” said Cindy.

“But
anything can spoil our time together,” Mattheus replied, petulantly. “It’s so
great between us now.”

“Mattheus,
someone just died under our window. I can’t lay back down with you right this
moment in bed.”

Mattheus
shrugged and walked away. Cindy absolutely refused to get into a fight with him
about this. He was right, she saw how quickly life could change and spoil
whatever they’d found. But still, the howl of pain that had woken her up couldn’t
be disregarded. It kept ringing through Cindy’s mind.

“Let’s
get dressed and go downstairs for breakfast,” Cindy suggested. “We’ll find out
what happened, take a few moments, then we can roam around the island. I always
wanted to visit Aruba, see the Lighthouse, and snorkel at Baby Beach.” It
seemed like a good balance to Cindy. They weren’t pretending nothing had
happened, and they weren’t getting stuck in the middle of it.

Mattheus’s
face brightened. “Thanks, that’s great,” he said softly.

Cindy
stepped closer to him. “Don’t thank me,” she said, “you’re right, Mattheus. We
have to remember what we can down here for.”

“It’s
not always easy,” he agreed. “I feel antsy, too.”

Cindy
was relieved to hear that.

“But
you come first to me now,” Mattheus continued and I have to come first to you
too.”

It
felt strange to Cindy to come first to someone.  She wasn’t used to it, hadn’t
really felt that before, not even with Clint. It felt more natural and
comfortable for her to put work first and have her partner do the same.

“Let’s
go, let’s get dressed,” Mattheus was excited about embarking upon their day.

Cindy
put on blue linen shorts and a hand painted yellow T shirt and packed a beach
bag with a bathing suit and swimming gear. She brushed her hair until it was
shiny and felt refreshed and excited as they left their room to go downstairs
together.

Breakfast
was served in several places, the main coffee shop, the outdoor terrace in
front of the hotel and in the back garden, down under a hill, nestled under
hanging trees. The terrace in front was easiest to get to.

When
Cindy and Mattheus stepped out of the elevator, into the lobby it was packed
with guests, reporters and police. A sense of fear and shock pervaded the
atmosphere. You could see it on all the faces and hear it in the hushed
conversations taking place.

“Oh
God,” Cindy whispered, “we have a radar for trouble, run into it wherever we
go.”

“This
is not our trouble, we’re guests, “Mattheus repeated as they started to walk to
the front terrace. But, like everyone else, they were soon stopped by hotel
security.

“Guests
are being asked not to leave the premises until we interview them,” a tall,
lanky guard said. “Sorry about this. It’s a matter of routine. The front
entrances are blocked off.”

Mattheus
nodded. “We were headed to the front terrace for breakfast,” he said.

“Blocked
off for now,” the lanky guard said. “Better go to the coffee shop. Once they
speak to you, you’re free to leave.”

Cindy
and Mattheus nodded and headed towards the coffee shop, making their way
through the uneasy crowds, who looked at each other furtively. They had to be
wondering if the killer was here among them, Cindy guessed.

“Nervous
crowd,” Mattheus remarked, picking up the edgy vibes.

“They’re
obviously wondering who was found dead and how it happened,” Cindy commented.

“Question
is - was it a suicide or murder?” said Mattheus.

Cindy
stopped walking and looked at him. “Why do you say that?”

Mattheus
shrugged, “At first glance it looks like suicide with victim lying splattered
on the ground. When someone could have jumped, the police usually consider it
suicide in the beginning. But it’s an assumption. The death has to be investigated.”

A
slow chill ran up Cindy’s arms.  She knew that what Mattheus was saying was
correct. She also knew it was possible that the person was murdered and that
the murderer was roaming among them right now.

“Are
the police any good on this island, Mattheus?” Cindy asked quickly.

“Same
as any island,” he remarked. “Overworked, underpaid, probably sick to death of foreigners.”
Then he took her arm and moved her along. “Come on, let’s go get breakfast, it’s
our vacation, remember.”

*

A
few minutes after they were seated near the window in the hotel coffee shop, Cindy
saw two, tall, heavy Caribbean cops making their way towards their table.

“C
and M Investigations?” the larger cop asked, grinning at them, pulling out some
chairs to sit down.

Cindy
was taken aback.

“We’ve
been checking all the people here at the hotel,” the larger cop said, matter of
factly. “You guys are pretty famous down in the Caribbean. We spotted you in a
second.”

“Right
now we’re here as guests,” Mattheus interjected.

The
large cop scratched his head and nodded. “Dumb, rotten luck,” he said, “the girl
who died thought she was here as a guest, too.” Then he threw a searching look
at Mattheus, who did not respond.  

“This
comes at a bad time for us,” the cop went on, “we need all the help we can get.
Crime is up on the Island, more lousy gangs floating around.  We’re working on
busting one of them and Carnival is coming up. We need our guys for all that. Don’t
have time to waste on a suicide.”

The
waiter came and poured them all coffee.

“Eggs,
toast and home fries for us all, on the house,” the large cop continued.  “By
the way, I’m Rod and this is my partner Spike. He doesn’t say much, but he’s
one hell of a policeman.”

Spike
just nodded when his name was mentioned, and drank his coffee in one gulp, the
second it came.

Despite
their lackadaisical manner, and Rod’s taking the liberty of ordering for them,
Cindy liked both of them. Their unpretentiousness was refreshing.  She enjoyed
that Rod shot straight from the hip.

“You
guys are sure it’s a suicide?” Cindy quickly intervened.  She knew that the
police hoped it was; wanted to get things tied up fast.

“When
you find them dead under their window, ninety nine per cent of the time, they’ve
jumped,” Rod spoke fast. “Of course this could be that other one per cent. You
never know. That’s why we’ve got to talk to the people at the hotel. Someone
could have seen or heard something, a fight, a threat, too much alcohol?”

Cindy
knew well what they were up against. Hours of interviews to be conducted with
guests who felt upset enough as it was. The police didn’t want to make it
worse. It was bad for business, bad for PR, bad for the island generally.

“Cindy
and I are on vacation now,” Mattheus repeated, “We’re sorry to hear this.”

Rod
interrupted coarsely, filling them in as if they were already part of the team.

 “The
beautiful young lady found dead was twenty six years old,” Rod started. “She
was here with her boyfriend for a long week-end. People saw them at the hotel
last night, dining, having fun. Most said they looked like they were in love. No
sign of trouble. But, when we talked to guests on their floor, they said they
heard loud voices around midnight and someone banging on their door.”

Cindy
was startled. “Did anyone open their door to see who it was?”

“No
one,”“ Rod snickered. “Of course it’s not that no one looked, but no one wants
to get involved. Why would they? They’re on vacation,” and he threw Mattheus a
long side glance.

“The
people who heard the banging need to be interviewed carefully,” said Cindy,
growing nervous.

Mattheus
put his hand on hers, to calm her down.

Spike
shook his head slowly and looked up at Cindy under thick eyelids. “We got lots
and lots of people to talk to at this place,” he said. “Can’t spend forever
trying to squeeze the truth out of the ones who want to back away. Can we?”

This
is complicated,” said Cindy. “You’ve got to know who it was that was banging on
the door.”

“You
never know,” Rod continued, seemingly gratified to see that at least Cindy
cared. “It could have been the boyfriend. The couple could have been fighting,
maybe she locked the guy out of the room and he was trying to get back in. She
couldn’t handle the pressure and jumped off the patio in the heat of pain.”

It
was a tidy scenario, much too tidy for Cindy’s taste. Obviously they were
trying to wrap things up in a neat, little package.

“Or
someone else could have been shouting and banging on the door?” Cindy
suggested. “Someone who was involved in the death?”

“Unlikely,
but possible,” Rod conceded, looking less than enthused about checking it out.

“You’ve
got to find out who was at the door that night,” Cindy felt increasingly uneasy.
“Whoever did it could still be loose? He could bang on someone else’s door
tonight. How would that look for the police force here?”

Spike
gave her a wide smile then, exposing a front, golden tooth.  “Nothing ever looks
good for the police, honey. You should know that.”

“Guess
you guys didn’t hear anything last night?” Rod interrupted, directing his
question to Mattheus.

“Nothing,”
Mattheus said, “our room isn’t on their floor.”

“Some
heard the banging on other floors too,” Rod insisted.

“We
had our music on all night long,” said Mattheus.

Spike
leered at him, “Nice, romantic getaway,” he crooned.

Mattheus
ignored him, and quickly drank his coffee down.

“Did
anyone at the hotel hear the young woman fall to her death?” Cindy promptly
asked. “If she jumped it would have made a tremendous thud.”

“Funny,”
Rod scratched his head slowly, “no one heard that.”

“There’s
too much noise and excitement at the hotel in the busy season to hear someone falling
dead onto the ground,” Spike commented.

“Could
be she didn’t jump at all,” Cindy shot back. “Could be she was killed somewhere
else and the killer brought her here, to make it look like she jumped. You guys
gotta check.”

“You’re
one hot detective,” Spike leered again, “love to have you on our team.”

The
waiter brought steamy, delicious eggs and home fries, and Spike dug right in.

Cindy
shuddered at the thought of the unknown young woman, a floor below her, meeting
her death so unexpectedly.

  “I’m
so sorry,” Cindy said, half to herself, unable to take a bite of the food.

“Sorry
gets us nowhere,” Spike spoke with his mouth half full. “Manpower is what we
need now.”

“You
can say that again,” said Rod as he continued to fill them in. “Last one to see
her alive was the guy she was here with, Clay Peters, thirty one, from Atlanta
Georgia. Great kid, works as a chemist in a big firm down there.”

“Was
he the one yelling for help this morning?” asked Cindy.

“Yelling’s
not the word for it,” said Spike. “The guy’s still jumping out of his skin. We’re
holding him for questioning. He was the last one to see her alive.”

Cindy
suddenly felt nauseous. The reality of what had happened became more vivid as she
was filled in. She knew how hard it would be for the police to come up with answers,
and knew they didn’t much care to try. These were rich folks, from another
country, coming down and going crazy on their turf. What business was it of
theirs?

“Thanks
for filling us in,” said Mattheus, “we’re both very sorry to hear what
happened.”

“That’s
all you have to say?” asked Rod.

“What
else?” asked Mattheus. “I work hard all year, do my part. I deserve a week off,
don’t I?”

“We
all deserve something,” Spike piped up, “even that girl who’s laying there
dead.”

“Well,”
Rod pushed his chair back from the table, “the girl’s parents are on the way
down as we speak and so are Clay’s parents. Can’t imagine how they’re gonna
handle it. They’ve got plenty of money to hire someone, too.”

“Thanks
for thinking of us,” said Mattheus, “but we’re off duty.”

“Lucky
you,” Spike snarled, as both of them got up and took off.

*

“Someone’s
got to be lucky,” Mattheus said to Cindy after the cops had gone.

“You
sounded heartless,” Cindy replied.

“I’m
not heartless, we’re on vacation. Eat your eggs.”

“I’m
not hungry,” said Cindy looking at them, uninterested.

“Eat
your eggs, Cindy,” Mattheus repeated. “We can’t help anyone if we don’t take
care of ourselves. We need each other to solve cases and we need each other to
build a life. It’s not always possible to do both at the same time.”

The
fervent plea of Mattheus touched Cindy.  Of course she understood how he felt.
She’d felt exactly the same way a while ago. She’d actually left him when he’d
ruined their vacation to go out on a case that suddenly came up. It was
definitely a fine line between taking care of others and yourself.

Cindy
put her hand over Mattheus’s. “I get what you’re saying and I love you,” she
whispered.

Mattheus
paused a long, long moment. “You love me?” his voice dropped a notch.

Cindy
smiled. “Yes, I do.”

His
face lit up completely then in a breathtaking smile.

“And
that’s how you finally tell me, sitting here over cold eggs?”