by Jaden Skye
“Oh God, Katrina was right,” Cindy echoed.
“Right about what?” Mattheus snapped.
“Katrina said Shelly went after her husband, big time. And that he liked her, too.”
Cindy’s eyes locked with Mattheus’s and did not part. She saw the depth of horror in them.
“This isn’t the woman you knew, Mattheus,” said Cindy. “Some things are so hidden, you never suspect. You avoid all signs, brush warnings under the rug. You desperately want your life to be normal.”
“My life was normal,” Mattheus whispered.
“Not really,” said Cindy.
“Flan killed Shelly?” Mattheus suddenly echoed, unbelieving.
“Katrina said Flan’s a violent guy, who tortures women in all kinds of ways. She’s seen it firsthand.”
“Jesus Christ,” Mattheus whistled under his breath. “An eye witness?”
“I don’t know,” said Cindy, “could be.”
“What was the attraction Shelly had for a guy like that?” Mattheus was trying to make sense of the nightmare he was in.
Cindy didn’t want to tell him what Katrina said about his marriage. But there was no point keeping the rest from him. He had to know the truth, ultimately it would heal.
“Katrina said Shelly went after all kinds of guys, flirted with them, had to have them.”
Mattheus stared at her blankly. “The longer we were married, the colder she became – finally I had to beg her for whatever I got.”
“I’m sorry, Mattheus.”
Mattheus started gnawing on his lip. “Tommy said the same thing about her,” he muttered, “that Shelly came to his bar all the time and had a grand time – carried on like a wildcat.”
“When enough people confirm it, you have a fact,” Cindy replied.
“Okay, okay,” Mattheus was starting to get upset again. “So, I’m a complete jackass and cuckold! One thing I do know for sure, though, is that Anthony didn’t kill her. They got the wrong guy locked up.”
“Did you find out more about that?” Cindy was relieved to change the subject for a second.
“Yeah, I went to visit his cousin’s neighborhood, where he moved in. It’s a ratty place where people don’t easily surface. So, I spent time scouring the neighborhood, talking to folks who stay under the radar. I found two people who actually saw Anthony right around the time Shelly was killed, before he went to sleep that night. They saw him out at the corner shop, getting beer. The time these folks saw him made it impossible for him to have killed her. The shopkeeper at the place confirmed it, too. Anthony probably forgot all about it. They said he was stoned.”
“Why didn’t they come forward?”
“Nobody got to them. They didn’t know the information was needed.”
Cindy took Mattheus’s hand and held it close to her.
“You’ve done a wonderful job, Mattheus. You’ve saved a guy’s life.”
Mattheus smiled and looked at her deeply. “Thank you.”
“But it’s not over yet,” Cindy went on. “We’ve got to close in on the killer. I’m going to speak to Flan right away.”
“You mean we’re going to speak to him,” Mattheus bristled.
“No,” said Cindy, definitely. “If this guy’s got so much going on with women, there’s a better chance of cracking him if I go alone.”
Mattheus stopped and considered for a moment. “You’re right,” he said, “you can do the talking, but I’m going to be hanging close behind.”
“Not too close though,” Cindy was insistent. “I’ll see Flan out in the open, out on the pier near his ships. There’ll be plenty of people around. If you’re too close by, he’ll smell it. It’s better for me to go alone.”
Mattheus’s eyes grew narrow. “I need to see the monster myself,” he breathed. “I’m gonna wring his neck with my very own hands. I’ve been waiting for this for a very long time.”
Yes, I know you have, Mattheus,” said Cindy, shaken. “That’s why I have to go alone.”
*
The pier Flan’s boats were docked at was about two miles away, not far from the Police Station. Cindy got there easily, in a taxi and promised to call Mattheus as soon as she was done.
The second she got out of the cab, Cindy saw a large sign, Flan’s Shark Fishing. It was late-afternoon, but the sun was still warm, shining down on the boats, the glistening water and the people milling around. Cindy walked down the runway to one of his boats to find out when Flan was expected in.
A small, heavy man, drinking a beer was squatting on a low stool outside the entrance. It looked like it was his job to direct people to the boats, to sign up for the next fishing expedition.
Cindy went up to him. “Where can I find Flan?”
Without even looking up, he answered, not missing a beat.
“Hell, Flan’s right inside that boat over there,” he pointed. “He’s been in for two hours now. Boats leave early in the morning and get back late afternoon. If you want to sign up for the next day, you come early that morning.”
Cindy’s stomach clenched. Flan was right there where she needed him. The timing was perfect, everything was lining up. When things lined up like this, it was usually a sign of a big find.
Cindy brushed her hair back off her face and walked up to the boat, went right onto the deck and let the cool breezes wash over her. It was hard to believe that she hadn’t even heard this guy’s name until that morning. It was amazing how quickly things could turn around, in a second a case that was sealed tight could flash open. That’s what she loved about the work so much.
“Anyone here?” Cindy called out along the boat’s deck. No answer. Could be that guy drinking beer was wrong, she thought. This might not be as easy as she thought. She tried again, “Hello, anyone there?” Then she heard a noise and spun around quickly.
An absolutely gorgeous, suntanned, powerful, guy with wavy blonde hair, green eyes, and no shirt, was staring at her. She’d barely heard him come out on deck.
“Looking for someone?” his mouth curled into a slow smile as he looked her up and down.
“Looking for Flan,” Cindy said, trying to avoid his leering gaze.
“Well, you found him, honey,” Flan sauntered over, “and for all we know, might have found even more than you expected.” As he got closer, Cindy felt the heat from his body and magnetic energy, pulling like an undertow.
Involuntarily, she took a step back.
“What can I do for such a beautiful lady?” Flan asked, moving in closer, not taking his eyes off her for a second. “For all we know this could be the best day of our lives.”
He wasn’t wasting a minute, out for the grab, thought Cindy, flustered, and Shelly dead only a little over a week. Cindy gathered herself together and saw how women could easily fall for him. This guy knew just what he was doing. If ever there was a player, this was him.
“I’m here investigating Shelly’s death,” Cindy said, trying to sound professional.
It only half worked. He leaned back on one leg, cocked his head to the side, and looked at her with amusement. “You’re investigating the murder?”
He made Cindy feel foolish, childish, as though she were playing games.
“Cindy Blaine,” she said, crisply, “private detective.”
“You don’t say,” his grin widened. “We get everything down here, from people thinking they’re movie stars, famous musicians, detectives -.”
Cindy by passed his disparaging comment.
“You were seen in public with Shelly quite a bit,” she moved right on with her questions.
“That’s right,” Flan agreed, “she was a hell of a dame. I liked her, so what?”
“So, she turned up dead,” said Cindy.
Flan began to get irked. You could see he wasn’t used to being spoken to like that.
“I’m talking to everyone who knew her,” Cindy went on in a clipped tone, hoping to irk him more, get him to spill. “Did you know Shelly well?”
/> He threw back his head then, and sauntered closer, taking charge. Cindy could almost feel his warm breath on her face.
“Don’t play games with me, honey,” he said. “You know I knew Shelly well, so don’t try to lead me on with stupid questions.”
Cindy said nothing for a moment.
“Exactly how did you find out about the two of us?” he was turning the tables on her now.
Cindy didn’t want to tell him that she’d learned about it from Katrina. God knows what he would do to her then.
As Flan waited for her to answer, the smile left his face and his manner turned oppressive.
“My partner and I heard about you and Shelly from Tommy at Rancher’s Bar,” Cindy said. She was grateful that Mattheus had made that connection. She also wanted to let Flan know she was part of a team, not alone.
Flan looked contemptuous for a second, then he gathered steam and looked at her cagily, “who’s We?” he asked, zeroing in.
“I’m here with my partner, Mattheus -,” Cindy started.
“That’s, a weird name! Flan burst in before she could finish, “Mattheus’s got to be Shelly’s husband, right?”
“Right,” said Cindy.
Flan laughed. “The pitiful loser she ran away from?”
Cindy didn’t like anything about this. Flan knew too much about Shelly. He should have been interviewed by the cops first thing.
“Shelly was one desperate woman,” Flan went on, “a starving plant needing water! That gal never knew what a real man was, until she met me. Then, she couldn’t forget.”
“She forgot it now,” Cindy cut him off at the pass.
“What the hell you talking about?”
“Shelly gave her life for it,” said Cindy.
“Well, maybe it was worth it?” Flan shot back. “Wouldn’t you give your life for something as terrific as me?”
Cindy recoiled. He was not only threatening, he was an ego maniac. Women were his toys, he got power from them, from this.
“The guy Shelly was married to was a stiff,” Flan seemed to enjoy seeing the revulsion in Cindy’s eyes. “He led Shelly on too, she expected big things, and the jerk never delivered. I know guys like that, they taunt their women by promising the world, and when it comes down to it, when it’s time, they give them nothing! They’ve got nothing to give. They find a million ways to back away. It’s an old story. Me, I never back away from anything!”
Cindy felt punched in the heart.
“I’m a little rougher than most,” Flan grinned at her, “but at least I’m involved. The women know I’m here.”
Cindy wanted to get as far away from him as possible, but had to stay and pin him down. He had information and she needed it. And, once he’d gotten started talking, he didn’t want to stop.
“So, exactly what do you know about Katrina?” he asked then, looking closely at Cindy.
“I know your wife was a resident at the Shelter,” said Cindy, “and that she’s back living at home now.”
“Damn right she’s back,” said Flan. “We have our little spats and she gets over them. It’s as simple as that. That’s what couples do, they fight, they make up. The Shelter gives her a little breathing room to come to her senses.”
Despite herself, Cindy felt afraid of telling him she’d actually spoken to Katrina. This guy’s energy left no room for equivocation. She had no idea what he’d do to her then.
“And by the way,” Flan continued, “Katrina knew all about Shelly and me. She knows about all of them,” he relaxed a little then. “She’s used to it, it’s no big deal. A guy needs what he needs and takes what he takes. But, Katrina’s my wife and no one else. Shelly knew that, too. They all do.”
“Did that upset Shelly? Did she make a fuss about it? Get on your case?” Cindy couldn’t imagine how Shelly could have gone along with this, except for his sensual, animal energy.
“You know you look a lot like Shelly,” he laughed then, reaching out and stroking Cindy’s hair.
Cindy flinched.
“Don’t run away, it’s cute,” he said then. “Both of you are gorgeous. Shelly was great in the beginning too. We were good for each other, but then she became to be too much! Exhausting, over the top. I could see how rough she could have been on her husband. How about you? You doing Mattheus, too?”
Cindy felt nauseous, thinking of Mattheus sleeping with Shelly and thinking of herself caught up with all of them.
“Where were you when Shelly was murdered?” Cindy demanded swiftly.
Flan stopped in his tracks and stared at her.
“What the hell did you just ask me?” The question really took him aback.
“Where were you when Shelly was killed?” Cindy was fed up with him.
“That’s a hell of a presumptuous question!” his eyes flared.
“No one else has asked you?” asked Cindy.
“Why should they?” his eyes narrowed into slits.
“Well, I need to know,” Cindy wasn’t backing down.
The ocean water lapped against the boat loudly then and a few sea gulls, howling, flew by.
“Honey, you don’t need anything, except what I want to give. Get it?”
Cindy looked around suddenly realizing that the two of them were alone on the deck.
“It’s a routine question,” said Cindy firmly.
“There’s nothing routine about it to me,” his voice got deeper. “You’re suggesting that I’m a suspect. Who the hell invited you on my boat anyway?”
“Why is it a problem letting me know where you were?” Cindy wouldn’t be intimidated. She didn’t like it, wouldn’t take it.
“It’s a problem for me being pushed around by a damn, stupid woman, that’s what!” he threatened. “If I were you, I’d shut up.” His hands turned into fists, and he bit his lower lip.
“I have no intention of shutting up,” Cindy said, standing taller and looking straight at him. “I’m doing my job. You tell me where you were!”
Amazed, Flan reached out and grabbed her shoulders.
“You go to hell, little bitch,” he said, “no broad talks to me like that.”
Cindy tried to pull back. He wouldn’t let her.
“Now you tell me you’re sorry, nice and slow,” he said, his face up against hers, his hands digging into her shoulders.
Cindy tossed her head. “I’m not sorry for anything.”
He drew back his hand and suddenly slapped her hard on the face. Cindy was stunned. It burned like hell. She struggled harder to get out of his grasp.
“You see this ocean, it would just take me a minute to flip you into it, and nobody would know where you were, nobody would care! One of my sharks would eat you for dinner. Then he’d get indigestion.” And he slapped her again.
Cindy shouted in pain. “Get the hell away from me!”
“You shut up, or I’ll dump you in the water! You’re asking for it.”
Cindy shouted louder then and suddenly heard sounds of footsteps rushing up to the deck. She squirmed around and to her tremendous relief, saw Mattheus.
Mattheus raced up and yanked Cindy out of Flan’s arms. The he flipped Flan from behind and threw him down onto the ground, stamped his foot on him and held him there, as he dialed for police.
“The police know we’re here, they’re waiting to hear,” Mattheus muttered.
Flan struggled to get up, but Mattheus knew how to keep him locked down.
“Who the hell are you? Mattheus?” Flan mumbled, his face squashed down onto the ground.
“Damn right,” said Mattheus.
“Yeah, well, I did your wife,” Flan gurgled. “She loved it too. Boy, did she love it. Said you were the pits!”
Cindy saw Mattheus face grow red and ferocious. She put her hand on his shoulders to calm him.
“Don’t take the bait, don’t take it,” Cindy whispered to him.
“I’m going rip this guy limb from limb,” Mattheus muttered.
“Not now,” said C
indy, “calm down. You were here all the time, you were watching me?”
“Hell, yes,” said Mattheus. “Think I’d let you see this scum bag alone?”
*
Three policemen, including Alex, came running up onto the deck in what seemed like seconds and grabbed Flan.
“We got the right one this time,” Mattheus hissed, the muscles in his cheeks trembling. “The bastard was about to throw Cindy into the water when she asked about Shelly.”
Alex, unbelieving, looked back and forth between Cindy and Mattheus. His eyes darting, looked scared.
“Thank God you’re alright,” he said to Cindy.
“You guys messed up, big time,” Mattheus murmured. “You held the wrong guy. Never checked out the real shark.”
Cindy watched them handcuff Flan, and pull him off the deck into the police car.
“What’s his alibi?” asked Alex quickly, before he left with them.
“I have no idea,” said Cindy, “he refused to tell me.”
*
Cindy and Mattheus walked to the Police Station together, letting them take Flan in the car. The light was dimming, as early evening was coming.
“You did an amazing job,” said Mattheus, his arm around her, protectively. “I’ve never known such a brave woman.”
Cindy wanted to put her head on Mattheus’s shoulder, but wouldn’t let herself. She had to stay strong, remember who she was, and what she was doing down here in Key West. It was too easy to get lulled into a false sense of comfort. That was the last thing she needed. She had to stay sharp.
When they walked into the station, the police were surrounding Flan, who was pinned down on a chair.
“Where were you when she was killed?” Rodney was demanding.
“Out in the boat,” Flan said, flummoxed, “fishing as usual.”
“Out in the boat at night?” Rodney asked, jeering at him.
“They didn’t find her in the night,” Flan objected.
“No, they didn’t,” Rodney pushed up against him, “but the time they found her and the time she was murdered were two different times.”
Flan tried his best to re-group.
“No big deal,” he said vehemently. “I thought you were asking where I was when they found her?”
