Death by Engagement (5 page)

Doug
turned away then, clearly letting Cindy know their meeting was over.

“Thank
you for talking to me,” Cindy said softly, as she took the hint, went to the
door and left.

When
Cindy arrived in the lobby, Mattheus was there on a nearby sofa reading the
paper, obviously waiting for her. The moment she stepped out of the elevator,
he looked up. Cindy was greatly relieved to see him. Most likely he’d thought
it all over and was going to join her on the case. It was all she could do not
to throw her arms around him.

“Thanks
so much for being here,” she exclaimed.

“Just
came down to deliver a message,” Mattheus responded, holding out a large
envelope. “The police had someone drop this envelope off at the hotel and the
desk called upstairs to let me know about it.”

 “This
has to be the suicide note,” Cindy breathed, amazed that it had arrived so
quickly.

“Looks
like you’ve got all your ducks lined up,” Mattheus commented, handing her the
envelope.

“Would
you like to look at it with me?” Cindy asked, eager for his take on it.

“Not
right now,” said Mattheus. “I don’t know about you, but I came down here for a
vacation. Going over a dead woman’s last words isn’t exactly going to help me
relax.”

Cindy
was taken aback. Mattheus was holding onto his position, and of course he had a
right to.

“Well,
thank you for getting it for me,” she responded, taking the envelope from him.

“Do
you happen to have time in your busy schedule for lunch?” Mattheus asked then.

Actually,
Cindy did feel hungry. “Love it.” She smiled, relieved that they would have
some time together and hoping to take the edge off Mattheus’s upset.

The
two of them walked to a charming outdoor restaurant at the hotel, nestled
inside a cluster of trees. They followed the sloping path which led to it and
was lined an array of bougainvilleas. The sweet scent was intense, making Cindy
feel like putting her head on Mattheus’s shoulder, but she refrained. It was
clear that Mattheus wasn’t up for it. They walked instead in silence, a few
inches apart.

Once
they got to the restaurant and were seated under a huge palm tree, Mattheus
seemed to relax.

“Would
you like a glass of wine with lunch?” Cindy suggested as she looked over the
menu.

“Sounds
perfect,” Mattheus agreed, becoming more like himself.

Cindy
smiled. “Me, too,” she said.

“Good.”
Mattheus liked that.

Cindy
put the menu down then, opened the envelope, and tried to take out the note.
Mattheus stopped her immediately though, putting his hands over hers.

“This
is our time, remember,” he repeated. “I want you to look at me, not the note.”

Mattheus’s
behavior now struck Cindy as odd. “I can do more than one thing at a time,” she
said lightly, in a forced but carefree tone.

“After
we have lunch and chat about small things, like our upcoming wedding, “
Mattheus responded, “I’ll go to the pool and you can spend the rest of the day
paying attention to whatever you have to.”

“You
don’t want to know what I found out about Doug, right?” Cindy asked once again,
unbelievingly.

“You
got it right,” said Mattheus. “This case belongs to you, Cindy.”

“Okay,
fair enough,” she retorted, her facing growing flushed as she felt the sun grow
stronger through the trees.

“And,
I happen to have a piece of news for you as well,” Mattheus continued, after
putting down his menu. “Your mother called while I was up in the room.”

Cindy
was startled. “My mother? Why? She never calls.”

“She
and Frank want to come down for a night or two and look at the wedding venues
we’ve chosen,” Mattheus commented, as if it were the most natural thing in the
world.

Cindy
couldn’t believe it. Up to now her mother and her late sister’s husband Frank
had shown almost no excitement about her engagement. “What changed their
minds?” she asked.

“I
guess your mother thought about her only daughter, now. She must have realized
that you’re about to get married, are on a celebration trip, and wanted to be
part of it, somehow.”

“That’s
not like her, at all,” said Cindy, “believe me.”

“Things
change, Cindy,” said Mattheus, “whether we like it or not. Your sister’s
recently gone and you’re the only daughter she has left now. Maybe Frank wants
to come down with your mother as a way of honoring Ann’s memory. Ann loved you
a lot and Frank knows it.”

Cindy
grew silent. She always respected Mattheus’s insight into situations,
appreciated what he had to say now.

“What
did you tell my mother?” Cindy finally asked.

“I
told her to come right on down.” Mattheus smiled oddly.

Cindy
was amazed. “But we haven’t found a wedding venue to show her,” she objected.

“Not
yet,” Mattheus agreed, “but there are plenty to look at. I’m sure she’ll enjoy
looking at them with us.”

“Do
you really want my mother and Frank to join us?” Cindy felt disturbed. It
wasn’t like Mattheus to make a decision like this on his own without checking
with her first.

“I
don’t see any harm in it, unless, of course, you plan on being too busy to
spend any time with them?” Mattheus responded, as the waiter came and he ordered
wine.

Mattheus
was making a point and making it clearly. He had every intention of resuming
their vacation as planned. He was even willing to include her family in it,
just to get them back on track.

“I’m
sorry it’s so upsetting to you that I’m taking some time to investigate,” Cindy
said, nonplussed.

Mattheus
looked over at her and smiled warmly then, putting his hand on hers. “It’s
okay, I can live with it. I just miss you, that’s all.”

“But
I’m right here, “Cindy pouted.

“No,
you’re not, your head’s completely somewhere else. You’re with Shari and her
family right now.”

“Work
the case with me and we’ll be in the same place together then,” Cindy pleaded
one more time.

“No.”
Mattheus shook his head slowly. “Just do this quickly, please, and get it over
with.”

Cindy was surprised by Mattheus’s
refusal to jump in, but could accept it. She’d stay focused on

what
she had to do, and from the looks of it, it would be over quickly, anyhow.

“I’ll
be all yours in no time at all,” she quipped lightly then, as the waiter came
bringing them their wine. “Just a few more things to look into and it’s done.”

*

After
lunch Mattheus left to play a round of golf and Cindy slowly took the suicide
note out of the envelope he’d given her. The first thing that struck her was the
beautiful, graceful handwriting the note was written in. It showed no sign of
discomfort or upset at all. Cindy began reading the words and her heart beat
faster.

I am so sorry to
have to leave you all this way,
the note began.
Please forgive me
for any pain I’m

causing,
but there’s no other choice. It’s too hard to go on living this way, much too
hard, way too hard.

Then,
a few spaces down, in a sprawling hand, she signed her name,
Shari.

What
was so hard about living now? Cindy wondered immediately
.
The note was
disturbing, raising more questions than it answered. Cindy read it once again
and her puzzlement increased. She wondered if the police had checked the
handwriting to make definitely sure it was Shari’s. That was almost too obvious
a question to ask, but Cindy decided to check it out anyway. The tone of the
note was too gracious and controlled, not the way Cindy would imagine someone
feeling before they were about to take their life.

As
Cindy sat musing about the letter, her phone rang. To her surprise and delight
it was Edward Twain, Shari’s father. Perfect timing, she thought.

“How
are you doing? What have you found so far?” His voice had an urgency to it, as
if he were positive something was coming along to prove that his daughter was
the victim of foul play.

“I’ve
spoken to Doug,” Cindy started to fill him in, “we had a good talk.”

“A
waste of time,” Edward said, conspiratorially. “Doug has no idea who did it. He
was in the bar downstairs with me anyway when Shari was killed.”

“We
always first speak to the person who last saw the victim alive,” Cindy
explained.

“The
victim?” Edward’s voice became piping thin. “That’s right, now you’ve got it.
Shari was definitely a victim. I’m relieved that someone finally agrees with
me.”

“We
can’t jump to conclusions yet, Edward.” Cindy wanted to calm him down.

“Who’s
jumping? It’s obvious,” he insisted. “Tell me more. What are you doing right
now?”

“I’m
actually reading the suicide note, as we speak,” Cindy replied.

“Nonsense,
Shari didn’t write that note,” his words burst forth. “She didn’t talk that
way. Shari could never say I’m sorry easily. The word
forgive
was not in
her vocabulary. I never heard her say forgive me! Go find the person who uses
words like those. They’re the one who forged it.”

Cindy
felt short-circuited by his remarks. Although his certainty was unnerving, some
points he made hit home. If the words
forgive me
were not in Shari’s
vocabulary why did they appear so emphatically in the note? Cindy considered
asking Shari’s father about the handwriting as well then, but immediately
thought better of it. He would jump on any little thing as surefire proof that
his daughter was killed. Cindy didn’t want to fuel his suspicion. There was no
immediate evidence to give him any ammunition to support his belief.

“I
plan to visit the crime scene, check your daughter’s social media, and get a
better picture of her,” Cindy continued, wanting instead to give him a larger
picture of what she was about to do.

“Before
you go to the crime scene, come talk to the family,” Edward insisted. “Shari’s
mother and twin sister, Deidre, are here. Even though they’re both destroyed,
they’ll still talk. It will help you understand Shari better.”

*

 Cindy
agreed that talking to the immediate family was the best plan at the moment.
She left the restaurant, walked back up along the sloping path and stopped only
for a moment to smell the bougainvilleas. For a second wished she were with
Mattheus right now, enjoying this magical island. He was right it was their
time, and they’d both waited a long while for it. Cindy understood Mattheus’s

objection
to jumping back onto a case. His ability to say no actually represented growth
for him. Cindy could remember the days when she was the one who wanted more
private time together and he was the one who couldn’t stop working.

 But
this case was different and Cindy felt it. Perhaps it was because it came so
soon after Cindy’s sister Ann had been killed. Perhaps Cindy needed to be in
the midst of an investigation in order to feel more like herself. The work
stabilized her somehow, made her feel as if her days and life had meaning. It
was hard to go on searching for her own wedding venue when another young woman
in the same position had just lost her life.

Cindy
walked into the hotel lobby then and took the elevator up to Shari’s family’s
suite. As soon as Edward opened the door and let her in, Cindy saw that the
room was empty.

“Marla
and Deidre are outside on the balcony,” Edward said immediately as Cindy
glanced around. “They’re a bit upset that I asked you to come. I told them it
was important, but who listens? No one listens. Thank God you do.”

Cindy
looked through the open balcony doors, but still didn’t see them.

“Where
are they?” she asked, feeling as though she were barging into private
territory.

“They’re
huddled together in the corner,” Edward explained, irritated. “I’m not sure
they really want to see you. I told them you were not the enemy. I said you
were trying to help us find the enemy. But they couldn’t care less about what I
say.”

“It
might be too soon for them to talk,” Cindy replied. “This is a terrible, trying
time for everyone.”

“You
can say that again, and for me, especially,” said Edward.

“Why
you especially?” Cindy was surprised.

“Because
I know there’s a murderer lurking out there,” he whispered, his eyes suddenly
gleaming. “And no one else knows it except you!”

Cindy
was about to tell him that she wasn’t sure of it either when a woman’s voice
from outside on the balcony called in.

“Who
are you talking to, Edward?” she called. “Are you still talking to Shari?”

“Still
talking to Shari?” Cindy’s eyes opened wide.

“I’ve
been talking to my daughter,” Edward mumbled in a low tone, “is that so
terrible? I feel her around me, I know she’s listening. I want her to tell me who
pushed her off the cliff.”

Cindy
looked up a moment then and saw a tall woman in white slacks and a dark gray
tunic stand at the door of the balcony and look in. When the woman saw Cindy
standing there, she strode into the room uncomfortably. In a few moments, a
lovely, blonde young woman, almost a double of Shari, followed behind. She had
to be Shari’s twin sister, Deidre.

“Marla,”
Edward said to the tall woman, “this is Cindy Blaine, the detective I hired.”

Marla
came over to Cindy and looked straight into her eyes. “I’m Shari’s mother,” she
said in a broken tone.

“I’m
so sorry,” Cindy replied.