Death by Desire (Book #4 in the Caribbean Murder series)

by Jaden Skye

  “Where shall we meet?” Cindy responded on a dime.

  Myrtle gave her the address of a different hotel on the island, Place de Jour.

  “Get here as soon as you can,” said Myrtle.

  “I’m on my way,” Cindy said.

  One hour later, Cindy arrived. The hotel was on the edge of a cliff, in a fishing village. The village was off to the edge of the island, out of the way, less crowded than the main sections. It was a relief to be here, out of the rush and noise. The hotel was smaller than the one Cindy was saying in, made of white clapboard and looked like an old, whaling inn.

  Cindy dressed casually, in slacks and a loose shirt, her hair tied back. The lobby of the hotel had upholstered sofas to sit on and after entering Cindy immediately scanned the place looking for Myrtle. She wasn’t there. Cindy checked her watch. She was right on time and wondered where Myrtle was? She’d seemed so eager to see Cindy right away.

  Cindy waited in the lobby for about ten minutes. Myrtle did not appear. Uneasy, Cindy went to the desk, described her and asked if they’d seen her around.

  “You mean that older woman with the big, green bag?” the young woman at the desk looked at Cindy oddly.

  Cindy had no idea if Myrtle carried a big, green bag, but decided to say yes.

  “She’s waiting for you in the back restaurant,” the young woman continued.

  Cindy was startled. They’d agreed to meet in the lobby.

  “Where is it?” she asked.

  The young woman showed her where the restaurant was and Cindy immediately went. The moment she walked in, she saw Myrtle sitting alone at a large table, looking distressed. She was a sorry sight, looking as if she were coming undone. Her hair was uncombed, curly and frizzy. Her nails were unpolished. Her eyes shot back and forth furtively, as if she were trying to spot someone hiding nearby.

  Cindy walked right over to her.

  “You’re very late,” Myrtle said, displeased as Cindy approached her table.

  “I’ve been waiting in the lobby,” said Cindy. “I thought we said we’d meet there.”

  “Well, you were wrong,” said Myrtle, motioning for Cindy to sit down.

  Cindy sat down quickly, her heart pounding. She was positive that they’d arranged to meet in the lobby.

  “I’d never arrange to meet in such a public place,” Myrtle said, her voice raspy. “Where’s Mattheus?”

  “He’s doing research for the party we’re going to tonight,” Cindy said.

  “The Russian Moguls?” Myrtle quipped.

  “Yes.”

  “He’s following my husband’s directions, naturally. My husband’s obsessed with the Moguls. If you ask me, he’s jealous of them - wants their money and clout.”

  Cindy was surprised to hear that.

  “We’re checking out the background situation thoroughly, before we go to the party tonight,” Cindy filled her in.

  “There’s no situation to check out,” Myrtle spoke between gritted teeth. “There’s only lots of bucks, glitz and slinky women that any man can have for the asking. Each one tries to outdo the other and they all end the night drunk or buzzed.”

  “Did your husband go to those parties? “Cindy couldn’t help asking.

  “Of course he did,” Myrtle hissed. “He’s a man, isn’t he? You think any of them can resist easy booze and flesh?

  Cindy breathed deeply and paused. She wondered if the Senator was in Petrovich’s pocket? Did Petrovich have something on him? Was he involved with one of the women? If it were made public it could ruin his career. It could also have a direct bearing on the murder.

  “I’m sorry,” Cindy said.

  “What are you sorry for?” Myrtle snarled. “It’s the way of the world. I got used to it. A strong woman can get used to anything. But one thing I’ll never get used to, is losing a daughter. No mother can.”

  “Of course not,” said Cindy.

  “And I’m going to find her,” Myrtle insisted, “you’ll see.

  “Find her, or her killer?” asked Cindy quietly.

  “Same thing,” Myrtle said, “don’t hold me to the fine points.”

  Then, Myrtle lifted a large, green pocket book she had with her, and spilled the contents out onto the table.

  “Look at this,” she said.

  Little photos spilled out, bracelets, mementos, seashells and two amethyst stones.

  “These all belonged to Tiffany. They’re pictures of her when she was little and growing up. They’re things that were important to her. I’m trying to find someone who recognizes them or has a matching piece. Tiffany’s helping me, she’s telling me what to do.”

  Both Myrtle’s words and the mess sprawled on the table seemed like the product of a deranged mind.

  “I’m not crazy, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Myrtle said heatedly. “I’m smarter than all of you. These pieces have my daughter’s energy. Tiffany loved these amethyst stones. I gave her four and there are only two here. The one who has the other two is the one who stole her soul.”

  “What about the necklace?” asked Cindy.

  Myrtle leaned closer, “Nobody will find it. I’m sure they completely ripped it apart.”

  “How are you going to find the lost stones?” Cindy asked.

  “By looking,” Myrtle said. “I take these mementos, walk up and down and let them lead me wherever they do.”

  Cindy was momentarily overcome with sadness for her. Tremendous grief and shock could derail anyone.

  Then Myrtle lifted her arm and called for the Waiter.

  “Bring us both the lunch special,” she demanded.

  Cindy wasn’t the least bit hungry.

  “Their soup du jour is magnificent,” Myrtle said, suddenly turning into like an elegant, French lady.

  For a moment, Cindy was flabbergasted, had no idea how to proceed.

  Myrtle took care of that for her. She threw her head back, narrowed her eyes and looked at Cindy keenly, all business now.

  “I heard they’ve arrested a guy named Frances,” Myrtle started, seemingly clear as day.

  “Yes, they have,” Cindy said. “Do you know him?”

  “Of course I know him,” Myrtle said. “I’ve known him for years. He’s an old friend of Tiffany’s. He meant nothing to Tiffany. I told you the one to investigate was her ex-boyfriend Shane.”

  “I spoke with Shane,” said Cindy. “He’s engaged to someone and has a perfect alibi, was at a party where lots of people saw him.”

  Myrtle grimaced. “That means nothing.”

  “No, it means a great deal, “said Cindy. “Shane was nowhere around when the event happened.”

  Myrtle leaned closer. “You don’t have to call it an event. It was bloodshed,” her teeth gritted, and she looked like an animal on the loose. “Are you going to find the one who did it?”

  “Yes, I will,” said Cindy, with such determination that Myrtle suddenly calmed down.

  “Why in the world did they arrest Frances, though?” Myrtle went on, disconcerted.

  The waiter brought two bowls of delicious cream and spinach soup with tiny croissants besides them.

  Myrtle dug in and drank it with ferocity.

  Cindy couldn’t even take a bite.

  “So, why did they arrest Frances?” Myrtle asked again, her mouth full of food.

  “You haven’t heard what they’re saying about it?” Cindy asked gingerly, not wanting to further inflame her.

  Myrtle stopped eating and stared at her, angry.

  “I wouldn’t be asking you if I knew, would I?”

  “Frances admitted that he and Tiffany were having an affair when she was murdered.”

  Myrtle stared at Cindy as if she’d landed from another planet.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The two of them were sleeping together,” Cindy repeated carefully, giving it time to sink in.

  “Tiffany and Frances?”

  “Yes.”

  “While Tiffany was
engaged to Tad?” Myrtle looked horrified. “Ridiculous, it’s an obvious lie.”

  “It doesn’t look like a lie,” Cindy said slowly.

  “And a disgusting lie at that,” Myrtle threw down her spoon on the table. “It must have been Tad’s father who spread this rumor.”

  “Why Tad’s father?” Cindy quickly asked.

  “Because he never liked Tiffany, not for a minute. And, he didn’t understand what his son saw in her. I resented that. I resented him. And I let Tad know how I felt, too.”

  “Did his father try to stop Tad from marrying Tiffany?”

  “Not overtly,” Myrtle said, “but he made little comments all the time. Tossed them off like jokes, only they weren’t funny. They were barbs, against my beautiful daughter. And they hurt Tad and Tiffany, too.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Tad’s a good boy, he tells me things. He and I are very close. What he said made me hate his father, though.”

  The intensity of Myrtle’s hatred was palpable. Cindy felt waves of it go through her as well.

  “What did Tad tell you about him?”

  “His father let him know how he felt in plenty of ways, said he didn’t think the marriage would last. Whatever Tad did, his father made him feel lousy about it. I built him up though, told him what a fantastic guy he was. He liked talking to me. I was kind to him and warm. Much warmer than his stiff mother, who went along with whatever the father said.”

  “Why did you want Tiffany to marry into that kind of family?” Cindy asked, appalled.

  “Tiffany was marrying Tad, not his family,” Myrtle spit out. “He loved our family. I knew he’d end up spending more and more time with us. His crazy mother and father wouldn’t have such a hold on him.”

  Cindy shook her head. That was exactly what Tad had believed, that he’d get Tiffany away from them. She had no intention of saying that to Myrtle, though.

  “Your husband liked Tad very much, too?” Cindy was double checking.

  “Yes, of course, he did. Tad belonged with us, there was no question about it.”

  Cindy suddenly felt nervous for all of them.

  “And what does Frances have to do with all of this?” Cindy went on.

  Myrtle looked confused. “Absolutely nothing, it’s a complete foil. There’s no way he could have been sleeping with Tiffany. She was a good girl.”

  “You’re sure of that?” asked Cindy.

  Myrtle looked outraged.

  “Are you turning it around, blaming the victim? Are you ascribing disgusting qualities to my daughter, slandering her even in death?”

  “That is not my wish,” said Cindy.

  “But that’s what you’re doing,” Myrtle bit her lip. “If you ever dare believe that Tiffany was sleeping with Frances, I’ll have to fire you on the spot.”

  “I am just reporting to you what people are saying,” Cindy spoke in the most professional tone she could muster.

  “What people say on this island is meaningless,” Myrtle threw her head back. “I keep away from all of it. When we’re down here, I stay on the boat alone. My husband is the one who mixes it up, goes to parties, talks at events, makes a name for himself. I couldn’t care less. All I ever cared about was Tiffany. She was the one who really mattered to me.”

  “How about Wynn?” Cindy asked, horrified.

  “Wynn’s okay,” Myrtle went on, haughtily. “She’s close to everyone, though. Tiffany belonged to me!”

  “I heard Tiffany had many people she was close to,” Cindy wanted to bring some reality in.

  “Of course Tiffany had many friends,” Myrtle leaned over, “but the one who mattered to her was me. At the end of the evening, she’d come home and tell me every little thing that happened. She didn’t hide a thing. And she never said a word about Frances. Nothing. He was just a casual friend.”

  Tad hadn’t been so far off track. Tiffany’s mother had her clutches into her, big time. Cindy felt the need to take this further, shock Myrtle and get more information.

  “There is a question,” Cindy continued, “that Tiffany might have been pregnant at the time of her death. Frances claims it was his baby. The medical examiner is trying to find out.”

  Myrtle’s mouth hung open. “Pregnant?” It was more than she could absorb. “What are you talking about?”

  “There’s a chance that Tiffany was with child,” Cindy spoke evenly. She felt that sooner or later Myrtle would hear this anyhow. “It’s a definite possibility.”

  Myrtle scratched her hands on the table desperately.

  “Frances insists he’s the father,” Cindy continued. “We thought it could be either him or Tad. Tad said it’s impossible that Tad could be the father.”

  Myrtle face grew pale.

  “Why would it be impossible for Tad to be the father?” Cindy asked.

  Myrtle’s face began to twitch.

  “My precious daughter was pregnant?” she moaned. “A grandchild was on the way?”

  “Do you think Tad was the father?” Cindy persisted.

  “No, he’s right. He couldn’t have been, he told you the truth.” Myrtle could barely get the words out.

  “Why couldn’t he?” Cindy knew they were zoning in on something crucial.

  “Tad didn’t do well sexually,” Myrtle said softly.

  Cindy’s brain raced with possibilities. “Impotent?” she asked.

  “Most of the time,” Myrtle said, matter of factly. “It’s not such an uncommon problem these days.”

  Cindy was shocked that Myrtle knew such intimate details about Tiffany’s life.

  “Tiffany and I discussed it many times,” Myrtle continued, “I told her it didn’t matter so much. It was better in the long run to have a husband who wouldn’t go running after all the women who would fling themselves at him.”

  “Do women do that with the Senator?” Cindy asked.

  “Of course they do. Why not? He’s a handsome man, but cold,” Myrtle smiled bitterly. “In the long run these women don’t get much.”

  “How could Tiffany be happy in a marriage with an impotent man?” Cindy asked bluntly.

  Myrtle stared at her then. “Does sex really matter so much?” Myrtle asked. “I mean once you have your children, do you really need to be bothered all the time?”

  Cindy flushed. She couldn’t imagine not being close to someone she loved.

  “I guess sex is important to you,” said Myrtle, disdainfully, “and maybe to some others, but not to Tiffany. I told you Tiffany was a good girl. She liked to play, dance, run around with her friends. I thought a man like Tad would appreciate her sweetness. And, he could be quite affectionate too, when he wanted to. Affection counts for a lot, plenty of women would rather have that.”

  “What will you do if you find out that Frances was the father?” Cindy asked, point blank.

  She knew this was only a story Mattheus had made up, but the police were going with it, and even though it wasn’t true, it was a good story for smoking out information.

  “What would I do if I discovered Tiffany had lied to me, hadn’t told me the truth about her life? Hid the fact that a baby was coming?” Myrtle’s face flushed beet red. “I’d feel even more betrayed than I do now.”

  “Betrayed by Tiffany?”

  “No, betrayed by life, useless, worthless.”

  “You have two other daughters who love you.”

  Myrtle stared at her with vacant eyes. “Rori doesn’t love me. Ever since she was little she could never stand to be near me. And Wynn is more like her father, always networking, looking for the best in everyone.”

  Myrtle then leaned over the table and scooped up the knick knacks that had belonged to Tiffany and began putting them back into her bag, one by one.

  “This has been a terrible lunch,” Myrtle said slowly, half to herself. “In the beginning everyone focused on Tad. Now Frances is the latest. What does it all amount to?”

  “There’s no way it could be Tad?” Cindy repeated
just one more time.

  Myrtle looked at her, suddenly listless.

  “How could it be Tad? His alibi was perfect, just like Shane’s. Tad was Scuba Diving at Jimmy Bolton’s diving school. Why would Jimmy Bolton lie about it? He’s always been Tad’s best friend.”

  Cindy wasn’t sure she’d heard right. “What did you say?”

  “Nothing,” said Myrtle, stuffing what was left of the mementos into her bag.

  “You said Jimmy Bolton, the guy who ran the Scuba Diving School, was Tad’s best friend?”

  “Yes,” said Myrtle blankly. “It isn’t a big deal.”

  “It is a big deal,” said Cindy, startled. She hadn’t heard it before.

  Cindy would have to tell Mattheus about it right away. They’d have to re-check Tad’s alibi to see if anyone else had seen him Scuba Diving that afternoon.

  “Why is it a big deal?” asked Myrtle.

  “It changes the quality of Tad’s alibi, if it was his best friend who confirmed it,” said Cindy.

  “You’re implying Jimmy Bolton could have been covering for Tad?”

  “Possible,” said Cindy. “Do you know if anyone else saw Tad Scuba Diving?”

  “I have no idea who did or did not see Tad Scuba Diving,” said Myrtle, irritated. “But I do know you’re way off the track. You haven’t really heard a thing I said. Tad had no reason to kill Tiffany. He loved her, she loved him. And, she accepted him as he was. She wasn’t the kind of woman who was filled with hopeless desire, like you.”

  Cindy stopped and stared at her. That was a strange way to put it.

  “Myrtle was unnerved. “Am I right? Are you that kind of woman? Always hungry for a man?”

  “Are you?” Cindy wanted to shoot back, but held her tongue as Myrtle threw her head back and ran her hands through her frizzy hair.

  CHAPTER 16

  The excitement of getting ready for Petrovich’s Christmas Eve party over rode the surprising news about Tad’s alibi.

  “We’ll check out it later,” Mattheus said, off handedly, when Cindy told him about it. He was convinced that the party tonight would set them in the right direction, be a treasure cove of leads. “Let’s get ready now,” he said.

  But Tad’s alibi didn’t sit well with Cindy. She couldn’t stop thinking about it, but decided to focus on the upcoming gala as she dressed for it. She knew the evening ahead would be exciting and glamorous. There would be lots of people there who could fill both her and Mattheus in on all kinds of deals and secrets about the Senator’s personal life.