by Jaden Skye
“And what did you bring out in her?” Cindy couldn’t help asking.
Tad grew a bit pale. “You really want the answer to that question?” he said quickly.
“Very much,” Cindy whispered.
“Okay, before you leave for the States, come to my home for an hour or so, and I’ll show you a whole scrapbook I have of our relationship. There are letters to me, photos, mementos. I have poems she wrote.”
“I’d love to see that,” Cindy said, her heart starting to beat faster. It would be a wonderful closure for her on the case, show her a more intimate side of Tiffany. Cindy didn’t want to be left with only the sordid stories she had heard.
“Great,” said Tad, excited.
“It’s very generous of you to offer to share that with me,” Cindy said.
Tad’s eyes shone brightly. “It’s the least I can do,” he said. “Especially if you’re not giving up, and plan to return to hunt the killer down!”
Cindy didn’t realize he’d taken her comment so seriously. Obviously, it had touched a chord. She didn’t want to go back on it now and tell him she was just joking. It didn’t feel right to joke about Tiffany, anyway. Cindy’s feelings about Tiffany had deepened as the investigation went on. She really wanted to see the scrapbook, learn as much about her as she could, leave on a positive note. How else could she ever put the case to rest?
“What time is your discharge?” Tad asked lightly.
“Around eleven,” said Cindy, “then I’ll be taken to the airport to fly back to St. Bart’s. Mattheus is meeting me there a little later there. We’re scheduled to be on a flight at three back to the States.”
“Perfect,” said Tad. “I’ll pick you up at the airport at noon. My home is only about ten minutes away. That should give us at least an hour before you meet up with Mattheus.”
“Wonderful,” said Cindy, very much looking forward to it. “Tad, you’re a doll.”
“You have no idea how much of a doll I truly am,” Tad smiled appreciatively. “Wait until tomorrow, and you’ll find out.
CHAPTER 21
The discharge from the hospital and flight back to St. Bart’s went easily. Cindy was amazed at how much better she felt, and how good it was to be out of the hospital, headed back to the island. She’d developed a fondness for St. Bart’s, and missed being there. As the plane hovered over the airport getting ready to land, it slowly struck her that she and Mattheus would be leaving for the States in a few hours. A pit in her stomach began to form. How could she leave like this, with Tiffany’s killer on the loose? Who knew when or where he’d strike again?
The plane flew down and landed like a bird drifting off a cloud. Cindy suddenly realized she’d promised Mattheus she’d let him know when she’d arrived. They’d been checking in so much with each other these past days that it almost slipped her mind.
She stepped out of the plane, took out her phone, and gave Mattheus a quick call. As she was dialing, she saw Tad coming up to her, thrilled to see her there. He must have gotten to the airport early and been waiting for her to arrive. Cindy couldn’t remember whether or not she’d told Mattheus she was going to spend a little while at Tad’s house before she and Mattheus met up at the airport. She didn’t even remember if she’d told him about the scrapbook.
Mattheus picked up the phone right away. “You’ve landed?”
“I have,” said Cindy, “easy flight.”
“How are feeling?”
“Great,” said Cindy, “as if it never happened.”
“Whew,” Mattheus sounded relieved. “Take it easy, have some coffee in the airport, read a magazine. I’ll be there in about an hour or so.”
“Actually, Tad’s here at the airport,” Cindy filled him in. “I’m going back with him to his house nearby for a little while. He wants to show me the scrapbook he has of his relationship with Tiffany. I’ll be back at the airport in a little over an hour, before you get there.”
Mattheus grew silent. “What are you talking about?”
“Tad has kept a lot of mementos and he thought it would be meaningful for me to see them.”
“We’re off the case, Cindy,” Mattheus sounded jarred.
“I know, but Tad offered to show it to me when he visited at the hospital, and I wanted to see what he had. It will help me put things to rest.”
“He could have just brought what he had to the airport,” Mattheus didn’t like it.
Cindy hadn’t thought of that. “I guess he thought I’d be more comfortable at his home. It’s only ten minutes away from here. No big deal. I’ll stay there for about half an hour, then he’ll drive me back and I’ll meet you here.”
“The case is over, Cindy,” Mattheus repeated somberly. “I hope you realize that.”
“I realize it,” she said, getting edgy. “But it has to be over inside me as well. I don’t want to carry this around like a stone on my heart.”
“Oh boy,” Mattheus said.
“Look, I’ll see you here in about an hour,” said Cindy then. “We’ll have plenty of time before we catch the plane back to the states.” Then she hung up quickly.
Tad waited patiently a few steps away while Cindy was on the phone. As soon as she hung up, he came closer and smiled.
“I’m so glad you’re coming over for a little while,” he said graciously. “It’s strange to think that soon you and Mattheus will be gone.”
It was strange for Cindy to think that as well, harder to leave than she’d realized. She had a gnawing feeling that she and Mattheus were much closer to finding the killer than they realized. Maybe something in Tad’s scrapbook would shed light on it. Miracles like that, happened, Cindy thought. Why not to me?
She got into Tad’s car, a small Volkswagen, and they took off for his place.
“Are your parents home?” Cindy asked lightly as they drove down a sloping road. “Do they know I’m coming?”
“Actually, they’re out sailing today,” Tad answered lightly.
“Your sister too?”
Tad grimaced. “I think she’s gone with them. She almost never does, but today she decided to.”
Tad sped up and before Cindy knew it, they arrived at his home.
They walked inside, and as before, Cindy was struck by how cold and angular the place was, empty like a museum that had not as yet been filled.
“Come with me,” Tad said, taking Cindy down the hall into a different room she hadn’t seen before. It was smaller and darker, lined with books from ceiling to floor.
The study?” asked Cindy.
“Right,” said Tad. “This is where my father and I sit and ponder the meaning of life,” he chuckled. “The right side of the room has my father’s books, the left side, mine.”
Cindy was taken aback. “I didn’t know you were so close to your father,” she said. “Actually, I had the impression that –.”
“He couldn’t stand me?” Tad interrupted.
Cindy hadn’t meant to say that exactly. But, perhaps Tad wanted to speak freely now that she was about to leave.
“My father never could stand me,” Tad repeated swiftly. “And it wasn’t a secret to anyone. There was something wrong with everything I ever did, including choosing Tiffany.”
“That’s not what your father told us,” Cindy said.
“My father lied, acted. He was very slick, very good at that. The truth is he hated Tiffany’s guts.”
“That’s a strong way to put it.” Cindy began to feel cooler, listening to him.
“In fact, “Tad’s face began to flush, “my father thought Tiffany was a rotten person.”
Cindy gasped. “That’s terrible.”
“Yes, it was. He said it to me, over and over. And what was worse was that I didn’t believe him.” Tad’s face grew contorted.
“What are you talking about?” Cindy was growing nervous.
“You know what I’m talking about,” Tad said to her in a hoarse whisper, then. “They found you beaten up a few feet away f
rom the pusher’s house, didn’t they?”
“Yes, they did,” said Cindy slowly, not knowing what was coming next.
Tad came closer. “So in the end, you and I found out the same thing.”
“What?” Cindy was having a hard time speaking.
“That Tiffany was a drug addict,” Tad spoke without blinking an eye, watching Cindy’s every reaction.
Her face turned stone cold. “That doesn’t make her a rotten person, “Cindy finally said.
“That’s what I said, too, in the beginning,” said Tad. “My dad kept trying to convince me, but I thought he was just trying to spoil my happiness, like he always did. But you have no idea what my father is capable of.”
“Like killing Tiffany?” Cindy shivered.
“Could be,” Tad smiled strangely. “But who would believe me?”
Was Tad trying to pin the murder on his father, Cindy wondered suddenly.
“I’d like to see the scrapbook,” she said.
“I’m going to show it to you,” said Tad, “but what good will it do if you find out about her? You’re leaving the island in a little while, anyway.”
“Tad,” Cindy suddenly cried out, “what is it you’re trying to tell me?”
“Will you stay on the island if I tell you the truth? Will you lock up my father?”
Cindy suddenly had trouble breathing. She was still weaker than she’d realized. She didn’t know how she could promise him something like that.
“I’ll certainly tell Mattheus,” she started. “We’ll do what we can.”
“Will you stay?” Tad’s eyes started gleaming. “My father doesn’t deserve to walk around alive while Tiffany is dead, strangled and stabbed.”
Cindy took a deep, swift breath. The fact that Tiffany had been strangled hadn’t been made public. Only very few people knew it.
“How do you know she was strangled?” Cindy confronted him.
“My father told me,” Tad grinned.
Cindy’s heart was pounding. “He described the murder to you?”
“He did.”
“And you said nothing until now?”
Tad threw his head back and laughed shrilly. “What could I say? He’s my father.”
“Why are you telling me now?”
“Because you said you’re not giving up. You’re going hunt the bastard down.”
“Show me the scrapbook, Tad,” Cindy demanded. I want to see more. I need to see it.”
“What I told you isn’t enough?” he yelled. “What more can I show you?”
“The scrapbook.”
Tad turned on his heel. “Okay, I’ll get it.”
He went to a safe in the corner of the study, and fumbled with the lock. Cindy got up and went beside him.
“The scrapbook is in there?” she asked.
“Yes,” Tad spoke darkly, “under lock and key. This is my safe. No one else can get in. I keep what’s important to me in here.”
The lock finally turned and Tad yanked the door it open. Cindy looked inside. There was a scrapbook and some silk scarves, which must have belonged to Tiffany. As Tad pulled out the scrapbook, the scarves rolled to the side and underneath Cindy saw a gorgeous amethyst necklace glittering. In the center was the exquisite design set in rubies. It looked like a wild heart burning. This had to be Tiffany’s necklace, the one that had been ripped off her when she was killed. It was in Tad’s possession, locked up in his safe.
Cindy gasped and began reeling. She tried her best to re-group. The killer wasn’t Tad’s father. It was Tad. Waves of perspiration flooded her face.
“What?” asked Tad, turning to look at her.
“Nothing,” Cindy murmured. “It got so hot and humid.”
Tad looked at the necklace and looked at her.
Cindy’s mind flew all over the place. She stepped back from the safe, trembling.
“That necklace belonged to my mother’s mother,” Tad said slowly, watching Cindy’s every move.
“Really?” she said casually, trying to be nonchalant. “It’s beautiful.”
“Certainly is,” said Tad.
“You know, it’s so hot, I’m just wondering if Mattheus is on the way?” Cindy said, and reached for the phone that was in her pocket. She wanted to call Mattheus immediately, clue him in somehow. As she dialed the number as Tad stared at her, slowly putting the pieces together.
“Mattheus,” Cindy gasped into the phone.
“What? What?” Mattheus was terrified.
“Mattheus,” Cindy gasped once more, before Tad yanked the phone away.
“Someone showed you a picture of this necklace?” Tad’s eyes narrowed. “They told you it belonged to Tiffany?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Cindy lied.
“Don’t try to fool me,” Tad’s face became contorted. “I hate it when people try to play with my mind. Don’t you dare try to fool me the way Tiffany did.”
“I’m not trying to fool you, Tad,” Cindy murmured.
“Yes, you are. You recognized the necklace and called back up. You want to nail me for the murder!”
He grabbed Cindy by the neck.
Cindy’s phone rang.
Tad pulled the phone out of her hand and tossed it out the back window.
“You’re never answering that phone again,” Tad muttered as it crashed on the patio.
Cindy tried her best to wrestle away from him. The harder she pushed, the tighter his grip got.
“Tiffany was a lousy whore,” Tad started screaming in a high pitched, rancid tone. “I have pictures of her in my scrapbook to prove it. My father took them and gave them to me.”
“Your father took them?” Cindy was horrified.
“My father was onto something. He followed her wherever she went. When she met Frances, my father was there in the shadows, taking pictures of her and him,” Tad shrieked. “He said he did it to save me, to let me know who she was.” Now Tad was breathing heavily. “When I saw these pictures I knew he was right. What else could I do? I had to kill the bitch on the spot. Do you blame me for that?”
“I don’t blame you,” yelled Cindy.
“Blame him! He drove me to it!”
“It’s a nightmare,” Cindy cried out, as though pleading for her life.
“But you blame me anyway, I see it in your eyes.”
“No I don’t,” Cindy yelled.
“The hell you don’t, the hell you don’t,” Tad pressed harder around Cindy’s neck.
“Oh God,” Cindy’s voice wouldn’t come out. “Oh God, she tried to yell anyway in the empty house, “Don’t let me die, please God.”
Tad dragged her back to the edge of the room, threw open the door to the back porch and pulled her outside. It was unusually hot out, and Cindy started sweating profusely. Her back was aching and her strength ebbing.
“Look at this before you die,” Tad grimaced, taking one hand and flinging open up the scrapbook with photos of Tiffany that he thrust it in her face. “When you go meet Tiffany on the other side, I want you to tell her she deserved what she got. Tell her I knew everything about her and that she did nothing but lie and lie. She made a fool out of me, but I got the last laugh.”
Cindy did her best to calm her mind, gather her thoughts, try to find a way she could save her life.
“Maybe Tiffany deserved to die,” Cindy, cried, hoarse with pain, “but I don’t,” Tad. I deserve to live.”
Tad stopped and stared at her.
“I haven’t lied, I haven’t tricked you!”
“All you bitches are the same,” Tad growled. “You’re all disgusting flesh pots. My father told me that a long time ago. And he was right.”
“Not me, I’m different,” said Tiffany.
“Then prove it to me,” said Tad, and loosened his grip just a bit.
It felt wonderful having her throat freer, easier to breathe.
“I can prove it to you,” Cindy promised.
“How?” asked Tad, his eyes
flashing. His face was close, a few inches from hers and he was staring down at her.
At that moment there was a loud cracking noise, as if a tree were falling, or a clap of thunder approached in the distance. Both Cindy and Tad jumped back, startled by the sound.
A loud voice called out. “Don’t make a move. Stay right where you are.”
Then Mattheus burst into the room, his gun drawn, his body taut.
“Mattheus,” Cindy called out desperately.
“See, you lied, you lied,” Tad tightened his grip around Cindy’s neck again.
“You let her go or I’ll shoot you on the spot,” Mattheus came closer, zeroing in.
Cindy felt Tad trembling.
“You’ll lie there in a pool of blood, just like you left Tiffany,” Mattheus voice was fierce with rage.
Tad suddenly let go of Cindy, spun and fled like a wild, crazed deer out back through the trees, and disappeared in a flash.
Cindy ran into Mattheus’ arms and began to sob.
Mattheus held her for a long while.
“How could this have happened again?” he murmured.
“It was different this time,” Cindy could barely get the words out. “Tad did it. He’s the killer. We have all the proof we need right here.”
Mattheus grabbed his phone and called the gendarmes.
“Get the guy,” he said. “He flew out of here about three minutes ago.”
Then Mattheus called the Senator with the news.
“Cindy and I are on his trail,” Mattheus said.
“Where the hell could he go to?” the Senator screamed.
“We’ll find him and let you know.”
Cindy went to the back to get her cell phone and then came closer to Mattheus again.
“We’ll get in the car and hunt him down,” said Mattheus, his eyes gleaming.
At that moment, Tad’s sister, Cissy, wandered into the room, looking disheveled and confused.
“I heard noise?” she said, as if she’d been sleeping. “I heard someone screaming?”
Mattheus turned to her point blank.
“Your brother killed Tiffany,” he said. “We have all the evidence we need. Now he’s on the run.”
