by Jaden Skye
“I am sorry for your loss,” Cindy started.
Mrs. Crane looked momentarily startled.
“My loss?” It didn’t seem as if she felt that Tiffany’s death was her personal loss.
At that moment, however, a tall, stately man in his early sixties, dressed in slacks and a sports jacket, walked through a wide, latticed door and came over to them. He had to be Tad’s father.
Mattheus stood up. “Mr. Crane?” he said.
The man looked at him keenly.
“How can my wife and I be of help?” he asked. He spoke as if he were attending a board meeting in the middle of a busy day.
“We’re sorry for your son’s loss,” Mattheus started.
“Thank you,” he said, non commital.
Mrs. Crane looked down at the angular patterns etched into the marble floor, her hand resting limply on the edge of the sofa.
“What can I do for you?” Mr. Crane repeated, seemingly eager to get this over with.
“I’d appreciate if you could tell us about your son and his fiancée?” Mattheus started.
Mrs. Crane cleared her throat, perturbed. “We’ve answered this question before, many times.”
“Don’t worry about this, I’ll take over,” her husband said, putting his hand on her arm.
“Tad’s a wonderful son, always has been. He’s thoughtful, smart, successful.”
“Is there anything else?”
“What do you have in mind?” Tad’s father said.
“Sometimes a detail that you’ve left out will surface and it can help us discover a new lead.”
“You live in the world of possibilities,” Mr. Crane responded, “I live in the world of reality. What kind of detail are you looking for?” He was implacable.
“Whatever seems relevant to you,” Mattheus responded calmly.
“Nothing about this seems relevant to me,” Mr. Crane quipped. “Nothing seems understandable or normal.”
“I understand this has been a terrible time for all of you,” said Mattheus.
“Beyond what anyone can imagine,” Mrs. Crane chimed in. “Shocking and deeply humiliating.”
Humiliating? Cindy thought that was an odd way to put it. “How has it been humiliating?” she asked.
“We’ve all come down for a celebration, not only us, but our closest friends,” Mrs. Crane’s eyes opened as she vented. “This was to be a delightful time. It was at first, and then it wasn’t. Some of our friends have even left the island prematurely since this awful turn of events.”
“Why did they leave?” Mattheus asked promptly.
“Well, wouldn’t you?” Mrs. Crane said. “Everyone was appalled, scandalized. They wanted to get as far away as they could. It’s not what anybody expected.”
It never is, Cindy thought and noticed that neither of Tad’s parents said one word about Tiffany, or her family.
“Were you and your husband close to Tiffany?” Cindy asked point blank.
“We’ve told the police all they need to know,” Mr. Crane interrupted. “Frankly, I have no idea what relevance this has at all. What in the world difference can it make how Marge and I felt about our son’s fiancée?”
“It’s okay, Doug,” Mrs. Crane interrupted, trying to calm him down. “They’re just doing their job. This sort of thing is routine.” Then she turned to Cindy and Mattheus. “I actually liked the girl very much,” she said.
“We were as close as we needed to be,” Mr. Crane corrected her.
“You were happy about the upcoming marriage?” Cindy turned to him.
“Tad was happy and that was all my wife and I cared about. We trusted his judgment about so many things, we had to trust it about this as well.”
This was far from a strong endorsement of Tiffany, Cindy thought.
“How about the relationship between Tiffany and Tad?” asked Mattheus.
“Why they were in love, of course. Why else would they become engaged to be married?” Mrs. Crane seemed irritated by the question.
“I would say they seemed fine as well,” Mr. Crane chimed in. “I can’t say I thought Tiffany was necessarily the perfect choice, or even good for him, though. Who knows if the marriage would have lasted forever?” A muscle under his eye started twitching. “But these days, first marriages are often simply suitable for a stage of life. Tiffany wasn’t someone I would have selected, but that’s way beyond a parent’s role these days.”
“Why wouldn’t you have selected her?” Mattheus seemed fascinated.
Mr. Crane was comfortable talking to Mattheus. “Tiffany was much too extroverted for Tad. Tad was always quieter, more thoughtful, reflective. He has an individualistic way of seeing things. Tiffany seemed the opposite. Quite caught up in the social scene, if you asked me.”
“What’s wrong with that?” asked Cindy.
“Nothing, of course, it just didn’t match up with Tad. In the beginning the difference between them alarmed me. I thought she would grow tired of him, drop him like a hot coal. But then time went by, and they seemed to do well together, so I began to take it in stride.”
“And she was always quite lovely to us,” Mrs. Crane joined in, “considerate, friendly, kind. Don’t get us wrong. There’s nothing on earth she ever did to deserve this. Even my daughter Cissy grew to care for her. We’re all deeply disturbed.”
“Of course you are,” said Mattheus. “And how did you the two of you get along with Tiffany’s family?”
“They were all a little too public and noisy for our taste,” Mrs. Crane said, “but the times we spent together were fine. Perfectly cordial at all times.”
“Yes,” her husband agreed. “And beyond this, I have no idea what you want from us.”
Cindy wasn’t quite sure at that moment, either.
“We’d like any ideas you may have on who might be involved,” Mattheus said directly. “Or who could give us more information.”
“I’m afraid that’s way beyond us,” Mr. Crane stood up, as if to end the interview. “This is way beyond anything we could ever have imagined. It’s not, and never was in the range of possibilities for our lives.”
But, just at that moment, a slender, young woman with wild, curly hair walked in, wearing jeans and a ripped T shirt. She had huge brown eyes and flushed cheeks.
“Cissy, this is Cindy and Mattheus, detectives on the case,” Mr. Crane said, formally.
“Finally,” said Cissy. “I heard two far out detectives came down to the island,” Cissy’s wide eyes were staring at Cindy and Mattheus. “It’s great that you’re here. Thank God, you’ve come.”
“Thanks,” said Cindy. Cissy seemed more relieved to see them than anyone they’d met so far.
“Looking for leads?” asked Cissy, edging closer.
“Yes, we are,” said Cindy. “Any ideas?”
Cissy had a smoldering energy, as if any moment she would burst into flame, or let loose with something or other.
“I sure have, “said Cissy. “ First thing - check out Tiffany’s ex-boyfriend, Shane.”
“Why?” Cindy was alarmed by the speed at which Cissy responded.
“Shane’s a player, and everyone knows it. He and Tiffany were on and off for years. None of it ever bothered Tad, but I never felt good about it. And, if you saw Shane at the engagement party, it was truly weird. He didn’t take his eyes off Tiffany for one second. It was definitely off the deep end and gave me the spooks. I actually started to worry for my brother.”
Cindy liked her. Cissy held nothing back and didn’t want to.
“What did you worry about?” asked Cindy.
“I was worried that Shane would get between them him and Tiffany, one day. I swear, I actually thought that.”
“Cissy has always had a vivid imagination,” Mrs. Crane interrupted, her voice brittle. “Since she’s been little, she enjoys creating scenes in her mind and believing in them. In fact, Tad is and always was totally able to take care of himself. Someone like Shane could never make a dent i
n his life.”
Cissy threw her hair back off her face, as if dismissing her mother. The two of them couldn’t have been more opposite.
“Say what you want,” Cissy flung at her, “I thought it. And so did some of my friends. In fact, one of my friends, Alma, was going to speak to Tiffany about Shane. She never got a chance to though.” Cissy grew quiet, suddenly. “There’s a lot of things none of us will ever get a chance to say to Tiffany now.”
“I’m sorry,” said Cindy.
“Yeah, I know,” said Cissy, “but it’s not going to bring her back from the dead.”
“You’re out of line, Cissy,” Mr. Crane chided.
“What did you think about Tiffany’s relationship with your brother?” Mattheus jumped in, obviously wanting more.
“Tad was happy with her,” Cissy answered abruptly. “It was obvious. She brought him out of his shell. Tad has a tendency to brood. You hardly saw it though when he was with Tiffany. I was happy for both of them. Tiffany looked up to him, too. She needed him around her.”
Cindy wondered why. “What was it about Tad that drew Tiffany to him?” she asked.
“That’s a ridiculous question,” Mr. Crane was offended. “You’re way out of line.”
Cissy got quiet though and her cheeks flushed.
“That’s a question a lot of us asked ourselves all along,” she said.
“I think this is quite enough,” Mrs. Crane drew a deep breath. “None of us have any idea what draws one person to another. And, obviously Cissy is completely on edge, fantasizing and talking uncontrollably.”
“She’s been very helpful to us,” Cindy said kindly.
“Really, how?” said Mr. Crane. “By suggesting you interview Shane? I know who he is. He might have been jealous of Tiffany’s engagement, but it’s hard to believe he’s a homicidal maniac. And that’s what we’re dealing with here, is it not?”
“Yes, it is,” said Mattheus, plainly.
“A homicidal maniac?” Cissy echoed, breathlessly.
“I think that’s about it for now,” Mr. Crane turned, as if to leave.
“Is there a maniac loose on the island?” Cissy asked quickly. “Is anyone else in danger?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” said Cindy.
“Thank you so much for doing this,” Cissy repeated.
“Okay, this is more than enough,” Mr. Crane repeated, motioning to the door.
Cindy and Mattheus got up. “Thanks so much for your time,” Cindy said to all of them.
“Just go and check out Shane,” Cissy hissed loudly as they walked to the door.
Cindy and Mattheus drove back to the hotel quietly, going over the interview.
“That sister’s a piece of work,” Mattheus said.
Cindy liked her. “She doesn’t hold anything back.”
“She’s a nervous wreck,” said Mattheus.
“Cut her some slack, her brother’s fiancée just died.”
Mattheus nodded. “Sure, I’ll cut her all the slack in the world, but she’s a time bomb living in a mausoleum. Her mother hates her. So does her father.”
Cindy had noticed before that Mattheus could jump to quick conclusions about people. He summed things up too quickly.
“You can’t say that,” said Cindy. “She’s different from them, very different. They were scared to have her talk too much.”
“What are they scared about?” asked Mattheus. “What do they think she’ll spill?”
Cindy sighed. She hadn’t felt that the interview yielded much and didn’t want to get lost focusing on Tad’s family.
“People like are always scared of revealing anything about their lives. They live in hiding, that’s their mode,” said Cindy. “Even their place is bare and empty.”
Mattheus turned his head and smiled at Cindy. “I love the way you put things,” he said.
Cindy was pleased. “As far as I’m concerned,” she said, “the most important piece of information we got from the interview was to go and interview Shane. That’s the second person who said so.”
Mattheus shrugged as he drove. “Who else?”
“Tiffany’s mother also suspects him.”
“So, you go interview him,” Mattheus said. “I want to focus on Petrovich. There’s a gold mine waiting for us there.”
CHAPTER 8
Mattheus wanted to go back to the hotel to do more research on the Russian Mogul before he went to the party that night. It wouldn’t be hard to find Shane, and Cindy planned to go and talk to him alone. Mattheus told her he wasn’t sure how important the interview would be. He felt Tad’s sister might be enjoying the drama, blowing it all up inordinately. He wasn’t convinced that Cindy would come up with anything special at all.
When Cindy got back to the hotel she called Tiffany’s mother to get Shane’s address and let her know what they’d found so far.
As soon as the phone rang Meryl picked it up, as if she’d been sitting nearby, waiting.
“What do you have? Tell me?” she uttered breathlessly.
“We’re just getting going,” Cindy tried to calm her down. “We’ve met with the police –”.
“They’re useless,” Meryl interrupted. “It’s all for show.”
“We’ve spoken with Tad and just now had an interview with his parents.”
“You’re wasting precious, valuable time,” Meryl’s voice had urgency. “Tad has nothing to do with this, I told you before. And his parents are holed up in their own private world. They never really knew anything about Tiffany’s life, and they didn’t care. They’ve only called our family once since this happened. They’re cold as ice.”
“We have to take it one person at a time,” Cindy said slowly.
“What else?” Meryl demanded.
“I was calling to get Shane’s number and address,” Cindy replied.
“Better,” said Meryl. “I told you to do this in the beginning. What made you decide now?”
“Mrs. O’Connell,” Cindy said calmly, “we hear different things from different people and then plan our course of action.”
“Don’t double talk me,” said Meryl, “and don’t call me Mrs. O’Connell. My daughter’s been murdered and I deserve to have you talk to me straight.”
Cindy didn’t want to give her every detail of the investigation. Some of it would come to nothing, some had to be kept quiet. She had no intention of telling her that Mattheus was going to the party at the Russian Mogul’s home that night. Meryl seemed unstable. For all Cindy knew Meryl would turn up there herself.
“I am talking to you straight,” Cindy said. “Please give me Shane’s contact information.”
Meryl relented and gave it to her. “Will you call me after you see him?” she pleaded.
“I will,” said Cindy.
“Thank you, thank you,” she practically broke into tears then. “I just need to hear something.”
“I understand,” said Cindy. “I’m doing my best.”
“I know you are, dear,” Meryl replied softly, “And I know you’ll find the killer.”
*
When Cindy called Shane, she found him at his favorite surfing beach. It was about three miles from where she was now, and he said he’d be happy to see her if she came.
The beach Cindy headed to was known for surfing, located up behind a cliff where the waves were strong. There were many different beaches on the island, some calm and peaceful, others rocky, this one filled with waves that drew surfers from all over the world. Cindy had noticed on Facebook that Shane was an avid surfer, lived following the tides.
As Cindy drove to the beach, she wound her way through the mist that was growing deeper. It would probably start to rain soon. The weather was unpredictable today and it was hard to believe that Christmas was only a few days away, with the mist, warm breezes and salty air.
When she reached the beach, she parked the car and stepped out onto the moist sand. The surf was rough and for a terrible moment, it brough
t back memories of Clint. Pictures flashed through her mind of the many times he’d gone surfing as she’d waited for him back at the hotel, or came to get him at the beach. He’d always looked thrilled and refreshed after his time in the ocean. Then Cindy remembered the awful day he went surfing and never returned. She grew dizzy for a moment as the flood of memories engulfed her and then slowly faded.
She had to ground herself. Cindy was here on this island with Mattheus now. They both were detectives who’d come to investigate another crime. For a moment she had no idea how her life had taken such a different turn. Clint and Mattheus were opposites in many ways, but at the core, the same. Both were filled with integrity and committed to being of service. She loved and respected that about both of them. Cindy had to trust and admire the man she was with, whatever they were doing together.
As she walked down towards the beach and looked over at the ocean she saw a young, blonde, man with a surfboard, roll out of the ocean onto the sand. It had to be Shane. He saw her walking towards him and waved.
“Over here, over here,” he called to her.
Cindy walked quickly to where he was standing, the wind rustling her skirt. As she got closer she saw that he was about Tad’s age, tall, muscular and suntanned. To Cindy’s surprise, he looked happy to see her.
“Shane?” she said as she got closer.
“Ho, there,” he said, running up to where she was. “Good to see you,” he seemed excited. “Thanks for coming. I appreciate it.”
“Let’s sit on the sand and talk,” said Cindy.
“Great,” he said.
Cindy was taken aback. There was nothing at all about him that seemed uncomfortable or suspicious. He couldn’t wait to get going with the interview.
“How the hell did this happen?” he started, as if Cindy had some answers.
“That’s what I’m here to find out,” Cindy said.
“Jesus Christ,” is all I can say. “If something like this could happen to Tiffany, then no one is safe.”
Cindy could see that under his bravado, he felt badly.
“You knew her very well?” Cindy said.
“For years and years,” said Shane. “She’s the last person in the world you’d expect something like this would happen to.”
