by Jaden Skye
“He’s at Rancher’s Bar now,” said Cindy.
Alex looked surprised. “Rancher’s Bar is closed tonight,” he said.
“Mattheus didn’t realize that,” said Cindy.
“So, he’ll find out soon enough,” said Alex.
“And, what about me?” Cindy went on.
Alex smiled, “What about you?”
“Are you interested in what I find out at the Shelter?”
Alex looked up at her, momentarily shy. “Of course,” he said, softly, “actually, if you want to know the truth, I’m interested in everything about you.”
Cindy flushed and picked up her fork. She wasn’t going to respond to his comment, just stay focused on what she was here for.
She and Alex ate quietly then, until he suddenly looked up, and stared at the entranceway. Frightened, Cindy turned around.
Mattheus was standing there, unmoving in the entrance, glaring at the two of them.
Cindy and Alex stood up at the same time as Mattheus slowly walked towards them, scowling for all he was worth.
“I was standing there like an idiot in the lobby calling your room,” Mattheus said to Cindy, looking back and forth between her and Alex. “You didn’t say a word about meeting anyone for dinner.”
“It was a last minute thing,” said Alex.
“Sure, very likely, Mattheus sneered.
“Mattheus,” said Cindy, shaken, “I needed to talk to the police, Alex was free and in the neighborhood.”
“Talk to them about what?” Mattheus’s jaw tightened.
Cindy couldn’t say she needed to find out if Mattheus was a suspect, that he’d disturbed her with his shifting moods. She couldn’t say she needed someone stable to talk with.
“What in hell do you have to talk to the police with that doesn’t include me?” Mattheus held his ground.
Cindy had never seen him this way before.
“This is my case, this is my wife who was killed,” Mattheus was fed up.
“I wanted to fill the police in about the women in the Shelter,” said Cindy, “get some questions answered.”
“I’m the one you fill in about the Shelter,” said Mattheus. “Then we go to the police together. At least, that’s how it always has been.”
Alex stepped forward and put his hand on Mattheus’s arm. “Listen,” he said, “things are different right now.”
Mattheus shook his hand off abruptly.
“This is your wife’s murder we’ve investigating,” Alex went on.
“So?” Mattheus glared at him.
“So, you’re not yourself right now,” said Alex. “It could be hard for Cindy to talk to you about everything, to feel that you’re able to listen to every detail.”
“Thanks a lot,” said Mattheus, furious.
“Anyone would feel the way you do,” said Alex. “It’s normal.”
Mattheus spun around and confronted Alex directly. “Listen, buddy, don’t tell me how I’m feeling. It’s obvious you two are keeping something from me.”
“That’s ridiculous,” said Cindy. “I kept inviting you to the Shelter over and over. You didn’t want to go. You said I shouldn’t press you.”
Mattheus opened his hand and pointed to the table. “So, you’re getting back at me now?”
“What are you talking about?” Cindy was horrified.
“Nice little romantic dinner you two are having,” Mattheus said to Cindy. “Very convenient. The minute I turn around and leave, you run to someone else.”
“I didn’t run anywhere,” Cindy felt her face flushing. “I called the police for information and support.”
Alex swiftly stepped between her and Mattheus.
“You’re going off the deep end with that comment,” he said. “Cindy came down to Key West to help you.”
“By having dinner with you?” asked Mattheus.
“This dinner is purely business,” Alex repeated.
“Tell me another,” said Mattheus. “That’s what Shelly said to me, too, about all the guys she had dinner with. They were purely friends. They weren’t though, and I believed every word she said.”
“I am not Shelly,” Cindy declared.
“You can say that again,” said Mattheus.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Cindy.
“It means that at least when Shelly went out to dinner with a guy, she told me in advance. I never got a surprise like this one.”
Alex and Cindy shared a quick glance.
“You thought I’d be at the Rancher’s Bar all night,” said Mattheus, “and so you hooked up with him. Well, the Rancher’s Bar is closed tonight. It’s open tomorrow.”
Cindy wasn’t even going to bother answering Mattheus’s crazy accusations. He was not seeing things clearly, was re-living his relationship with Shelly, and Cindy was the convenient stand in now. Obviously, the surprise of seeing her and Alex together had stirred many memories. Then, Cindy, suddenly remembered Barbara’s comment to her. Don’t make excuses for guys. Face the truth. See things as they are, that’s what keeps you smart and safe.
“Maybe it would be better if Cindy got off the case and went home?” Alex said, trying to calm the turbulent waters.
Mattheus stared at him.
“Seems like things are becoming too volatile. In my opinion, it would be a good idea for Cindy to resign from the case,” Alex maintained.
“Listen, I don’t need you telling my partner what she should or shouldn’t do,” Mattheus grew more agitated.
Alex turned to Cindy. “What do you think?” he said.
Cindy was dumbfounded a moment. Resigning wasn’t her style. True, things had grown volatile between her and Mattheus, but something larger was at stake. There was a search for a killer going on and Cindy was an integral part of it now. Her involvement with the case now went way beyond Mattheus. It was also about her relationship with the women in the Shelter who were desperate to have Shelly’s killer found. She wanted to be there for them as well. They would be devastated if she dropped the case and took off. After all, they deserved a role model who took their situation seriously and didn’t run away at the first sign of trouble.
“I’m not running away,” said Cindy. “I always finish what I start.”
Mattheus guffawed. “That’s not exactly how I’d describe our relationship,” he said. “You didn’t finish anything, just ran away.”
Alex and Cindy exchanged another sudden glance.
“So, that’s what your anger with Cindy is about,” said Alex. “It has nothing to do with this dinner.”
“I didn’t run away, I left,” Cindy burst in. “Your wife ran away, Mattheus, not me. You and I had an agreement that you didn’t want to keep, so I chose to return home. That’s not the same as quitting. I’m not a quitter and I never will be.”
Cindy felt an odd commitment to Shelly too now, a burning urge to discover what had happened in her marriage, and who had really choked her to death.
Mattheus turned towards the door
“I’m disappointed in you Cindy,” he said, “shocked and disappointed,” and started walking away.
Cindy began to go after Mattheus, but Alex put his hand on her shoulder, holding her back.
“Let him go,” said Alex, “give him time. He has no idea what he’s saying. It’s like post-traumatic stress syndrome - little things trigger big memories and feelings, and reality blurs.”
Cindy breathed deeply. Alex was right. Mattheus was in the grip of feelings and memories that suddenly rose up and overwhelmed him. But he’d have to learn how to ride the huge waves of feelings that rose suddenly. Like surfing, sometimes, you caught the waves, sometimes they knocked you over. Before they found Shelly, Mattheus had been steady and calm. Cindy suddenly felt very sad for him, and very much alone.
“If you stay on the case you should check in with me,” Alex offered.
Cindy didn’t want to. She wanted to check in with Mattheus as she usually did, wanted everything to be t
he same. But it wasn’t. She looked down at the floor. Would Mattheus be able to come back to himself, or would these huge waves of emotion pull him away from her forever?
“If you feel you have to stay on the case, stay on it,” Alex said, “but you can’t do it alone. I’m glad you’re going to the Shelter. That will be a help to us. You can let us know what you find there. We’ll also run what we have by you.”
Cindy felt grateful. Alex was offering himself in place of Mattheus. She looked up and to her surprise, saw his clear opaque eyes looking at her, filled with admiration.
“Thanks for including me,” she said quietly. “I want to stay.”
“I know you do,” said Alex, “and it’s great to have you with us. “There’s nothing good about quitting, you’re right. But, remember, it also takes guts to know when it’s time to let go.”
CHAPTER 16
Cindy went back up to her room in a little while, and though she wanted to speak to him, didn’t pick up the phone to call Mattheus. It was up to him to calm down and reach out to her now. This was certainly no way to work on a case, she thought, each of them hunkering down in their private corners. She wasn’t sure how she’d suddenly turned into Mattheus’s enemy either, but she didn’t like it.Clearly, there was little hope left for their relationship, even as partners working a case.
Cindy turned on the television in the room, to calm down and distract herself when the phone rang. Relieved, she expected it to be Mattheus, when to Cindy’s surprise, it was her sister Ann again. Ann had an uncanny radar about when Cindy needed her, or was truly upset.
“So, how’s it going?” Ann asked in a pleasant tone. She’d obviously come to grips with the fact that Cindy was working down there on a case with Mattheus.
“It’s going,” Cindy answered blandly.
“What’s wrong?” asked Ann. “You sound funny.”
“Just tired,” said Cindy. “These are long days and it’s hot down here.”
“And you never got that rest period you promised yourself, either,” said her sister.
“It’s beautiful down here though,” said Cindy, changing the subject and looking at a huge conch shell that was on the wicker end table near her bed. “The foliage is blooming, the wild life incredible.”
“Cindy,” Ann interrupted, “what’s wrong?”
“It’s a rough case,” said Cindy, finally.
“Is Mattheus helping you with it?”
“He’s doing what he can. This is a nightmare for him that he’s got to wake up out of. These things take time.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” said Ann. “Cindy, I don’t like this, you don’t sound like yourself.”
“I’ve been better,” Cindy conceded.
“Are the two of you sharing a room?” Ann asked, the anxiety growing.
Cindy was offended. “Come on, Ann, I’m not in high school anymore.”
“Are you?” Ann insisted.
“No,” said Cindy.
“Well, thank God, that shows some sense.”
Cindy was flustered. “Ann, you never met Mattheus, you might even like him.”
“Whether or not I’d like him is irrelevant,” said Ann. “It’s the state of his life that scares me. You don’t belong there. I feel it. Are you getting paid for your work?”
Cindy hadn’t even thought of it. All her expenses were cared for, of course, but usually they were paid for cases by the people who hired them. She and Mattheus always split what they made. Now it was different, it was Mattheus’s wife.
“You’re doing this as an act of love?” Ann said then, bluntly. “My God, Cindy, I’d love to come down and visit you there. Would it be possible?”
“Definitely not,” said Cindy, “I’m on a case.”
“Well, Frank and I might just choose to take a week-end down there anyhow,” Ann was growing indignant.
“Don’t,” Cindy exclaimed, as her sister just hung up the phone.
Cindy felt sad after the call. Ann meant well and Cindy knew it. She just didn’t realize that the focus and intensity involved in the work didn’t permit time for diversions.
Cindy watched a little more TV, waited to hear from Mattheus, and by ten o’clock, when he hadn’t called, decided to get to sleep early. It would be a long day at the Shelter tomorrow and she wanted to be ready for it.
*
Cindy arrived at the Shelter early the next morning. She wore comfortable linen green slacks, a lemon shirt, and tied her hair back gently. It was important for the women to feel comfortable in her presence. She didn’t want to look too professional, or different from anyone here. Instead of carrying her usual briefcase, she slung a large bag over her shoulder in which she’d packed notebooks and pens. It was hard being here alone, without Mattheus to come back to, go over the day with. She knew she could call Alex, but that was entirely different.
Cindy milled around in the front entranceway, waiting for Barbara. The place was totally active and buzzing, women were on their way to different rooms for counseling and groups. Flyers on the walls announced training sessions to develop new skills in the workplace. The seeming normalcy of the routine here was jarring. There was a sense of purposefulness , aliveness, and above all, safety.
Cindy watched the women walking up and down the hallways and wondered what it would take in anyone’s life to cross that thin line and end up here, hiding from danger. What did they not notice? What was it they weren’t able to stop doing, or hoping for? When did they hit that crucial point where they knew they had to call for help?
As Cindy stood there watching, Barbara appeared from behind and tapped her on the shoulder. Cindy jumped.
“Oh my goodness,” Cindy said, “I didn’t see you coming.
Barbara laughed. “You got here early, that’s so great. You’re excited, you’re eager.
They smiled at one another.
“There’s a lot of ground to cover today,” Barbara said, as she started to walk down the hall with Cindy, “let’s go.”
Cindy let Barbara lead her around the bend to a medium size, well lit room with a table in the center and wooden chairs around it. The windows looked out over the back of the Shelter, where birds perched in the large bushes, unaware of what was going on inside.
“This is our interview room,” said Barbara, “Today, I’d like you to start by talking to Angie. She was Shelly’s co-counselor, they worked closely together, talked everything over and liked each other very much. She’ll be here in a few minutes.”
“Great,” said Cindy, and sat down at the table, once again impressed by Barbara’s professionalism. “How did you get the job to oversee the investigation?” Cindy was curious.
Barbara pushed her hair off her forehead. It was warm for so early in the morning, and she was perspiring. “I assigned myself,” she said lightly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “If you don’t take something on, it doesn’t get done. Someone has to step up. This is important to me.”
“It’s inspiring,” said Cindy.
Barbara sat down next to Cindy then. “My mother was battered by my father,” Barbara continued. “I couldn’t do anything to help her, but I can help others in the same situation. And I will.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Cindy, moved by the unexpected revelation.
“My mother ultimately died of her wounds,” Barbara continued.
“Murdered?” Cindy was horrified.
“Basically, yes, murdered, though no one thought of it that way in those days.”
Cindy realized that everyone who worked here had to have some kind of story about what drove them to this work. She wondered again about Shelly, and the journey she’d been on.
At that moment, a tall, wiry, very attractive, youngish woman with dark brown hair and large eyes walked into the room.
Barbara got up to greet her. “Angie, this is Cindy,” she said.
Angie came over and held out her hand to Cindy. “I’m hearing wonderful things about yo
u,” she said.
Cindy was surprised. “About me?”
“The women you’ve spoken to really like you.”
“Thank you so much,” Cindy felt touched.
Angie sat down opposite her.
“What can I do to help?” Angie began. “Shelly’s death has been a nightmare. She didn’t deserve something like this.”
“No one deserves it,” said Barbara, sitting back down as well.
“Of course, no one deserves it,” Angie agreed. “But especially not Shelly.”
“You liked her a lot?” Cindy echoed.
“It’s not just that I liked her,” Angie exclaimed, “Shelly was a worthwhile person. She did a wonderful job and we were good friends.” A look of pain crossed her face.
Cindy was relieved to be talking to Angie, someone who knew Shelly so well.
“Tell me more about her,” Cindy said, taking a notebook out of her bag. She didn’t want to miss a thing, wanted to write everything down.
“Shelly never missed a day at work,” Angie started,”everyone here could count on her.”
That surprised Cindy. Her basic image of Shelly hadn’t been that she was so dependable.
“In fact, the Shelter became like a home to her,” Angie continued, “she told me that more than one time.”
Cindy could understand that. Shelly had come from a rough childhood and this obviously became a haven for her.
“Do you know why she left the life she’d been living and came to Key West to start again?” Cindy asked carefully.
To Cindy’s surprise the question sent a ripple of unease into the room.
Angie closed her eyes a moment. “We all leave something in our lives and start over,” said Angie, “that’s the nature of life. One chapter ends, another begins.”
“That’s a poetic way of putting it,” said Cindy, aware that Angie was side stepping the question. “And, I also need specifics. Why did Shelly feel so at home here? What happened in her life that drew her to this work?”
