by Jaden Skye
“So many questions erupting now about the way Tara died,” Konrad muttered.
“Difficult,” murmured Mattheus, trying to egg him on.
“The sooner the case is closed, the better for us,” Konrad insisted. “What else do you need to finish it up?”
Clearly, Konrad thought that Cindy and Mattheus were working with the police and would be able to get hold of some evidence the police didn’t have.
“We were brought down to Jamaica by Owen,” Mattheus told Konrad frankly. Mattheus never let half-truths or mistaken impressions linger. Cindy never failed to be proud of Mattheus’s honesty.
Konrad looked taken aback. “Oh, I didn’t know that,” he murmured. “I thought the police brought you in to nail the case shut.”
“No, we were hired by Owen,” Mattheus repeated.
“So, the two of you are working for the devil?” A little smile playing around the edges of Konrad’s mouth.
“What do you mean by that, exactly?” Mattheus bristled. “How is Owen the devil?”
“The guy’s super rich, super slick, super hungry, super, super everything,” Konrad grumbled. “I know a type when I see it.”
“You know Owen personally?” Cindy intervened. Konrad had a way about him that put her off.
“I just know him from the time he and his wife have been here in the hospital,” Konrad said, “he never left her room for a minute.”
“That sounds like a good thing to me,” said Cindy.
“Sounds like it, doesn’t it?” Konrad echoed back, “but the police don’t think so. They arrested him anyway.”
Cindy felt protective of Owen. “There’s no direct evidence linking him to the lethal substance though, is there?” she asked.
“Whoah there, wait a minute,” Konrad became flustered. “Don’t go throwing words like that around. Yes, they found toxic substances in the patient’s system, but who says it came from a lethal substance in her IV? There’s no direct proof of that either.”
“That’s right,” Mattheus chimed in. Mattheus obviously didn’t want to break the bond he was forming with Konrad.
“But there’s no direct proof that Owen did it either,” Cindy took another tack.
“Not yet, but I’d hoped there would be,” Konrad took a step back, examining Cindy adversaraily. “Actually, I thought that’s why you guys came down.”
“We came down to find out who killed Tara,” Cindy remarked in a clipped tone.
“That’s easy enough, isn’t it?” said Konrad. “The boat accident did it. The hospital just kept her alive.”
Cindy wouldn’t let him slide out of it so easily, though. “The patient’s life did not end naturally, there were lethal substances found in her system.”
“It was only a matter of time anyway,” Konrad murmured to Cindy, taking a step closer to her.
“And someone took time into their own hands,” Mattheus intervened. “According to the law -.”
Konrad interrupted him swiftly. “I know all about the law,” he proclaimed, “in fact I’m in charge of running this hospital and observing all of them.” Then he spotted someone at the Board of Directors Table and waved to him. “Please excuse me, I have to speak to everyone here tonight.” Konrad walked away then abruptly, leaving Cindy and Mattheus alone in the middle of the room.
“What was that?” asked Cindy, feeling as though a whirlwind had blown around her.
“It’s a guy doing what a hospital administrator does,” said Mattheus, “protecting his hospital’s reputation.”
“Could it be there’s a cover up at the hospital?” Cindy remarked tartly.
“Could be a million things,” said Mattheus. “but I don’t think we’ll find out much tonight. From the looks of the schedule, we’re in for a long, boring night.”
Cindy smiled. “We could slip away, go downstairs and get lost dancing with the crowd below.”
Mattheus grinned for a moment. “Love to do that,” he said, “but it’s going to be useful to sit through some of these speeches and hear more about the hospital’s operation.”
“We’re just going to hear people patting each other on the back,” said Cindy. “We won’t hear a word about what happened to Tara at the end of her life.”
Mattheus looked at Cindy oddly. “Of course we won’t. Why would anyone talk about euthanasia on a beautiful night like this?”
*
Cindy and Mattheus sat at a small table together in the center of the room right in front of the podium. One speaker after another, stepped up to speak of the wonderful advances the
Ranges Hospital had made and the unique service it offered to the island. Wealthy, beautifully dressed investors, seated on tables around the room, drank champagne and smiled at one another. An elderly man and his wife at the table with Cindy and Mattheus nodded and applauded at whatever was said.
“Lovely hospital,” Mattheus said to them.
“Couldn’t be better,” the elderly gentleman replied. “We adore having it here waiting when we visit. Worth every penny we donate to it.”
Mattheus smiled back graciously, as a short, slender Jamaican man slipped over to their table and stood behind him.
“Hi,” the slender man whispered to Mattheus, “my name is Todd.”
Mattheus turned around and looked at him. “Hi, Todd, grab a chair and join us, if you like.”
“No, no,” Todd seemed nervous.
“What can I do for you?” Mattheus asked.
“I’d like to sit down, but I can’t,” said Todd.
Mattheus and Cindy rose to speak to him.
“I’m Konrad’s assistant,” Todd said in a hushed tone. “I know who you are. Konrad told me he was expecting you.”
“C and M Investigations,” Cindy murmured.
“I’d like to meet the two of you later on,” Todd smiled feebly. He had lovely eyes which darted back and forth as he spoke.
“Of course,” said Cindy, taking her card from her evening bag. “Here’s our card, get in touch with us as soon as you can.”
Todd grabbed her card and stuffed it in his pocket. “Definitely, definitely,” he said under his breath and scuttled away.
*
After giving Todd her card, Cindy wanted to leave. The speeches blurred into one another as did the people who were making them.
“I think all in all, we came to meet Todd,” she finally said to Mattheus. “He’s got something to tell us. The rest of it is a formality only, a waste of time.”
“We’ll see,” said Mattheus, “you never know. An important piece of information can pop up anywhere.”
“Come on, let’s go,” Cindy was feeling restless.
“We’ll go in a few minutes,” Mattheus agreed. “We can’t just walk out in the middle. It will look odd.”
“We’re not here to make an impression, we’re here to solve a crime,” Cindy felt irritated. “I want to get back so I can get up early, get to the hospital and talk to the nurses. That’s where our answers will lay.”
“You can talk to the nurses in the morning,” said Mattheus, “I’m going to spend time checking into how the hospital’s run, find out about its funding and get to know Konrad.”
“You won’t get anything from Konrad, ever,” said Cindy. She felt bitter about him, didn’t like him. “If anything, he’ll only lead us astray.”
“That’s a strange thing to say,” said Mattheus. “You’re making lots of snap judgments these days.”
Cindy realized that Mattheus was right. But snap judgment or not, she had a strong feeling that Konrad had no intention of helping them, was nothing like what he seemed.
*
Cindy felt strangely restless when they returned to the hotel. Even though it was quite late she couldn’t fall asleep. All kinds of thoughts and images rose in her mind and then drifted away. Everything at that hospital party was so slick and formal, Cindy was sure that if they knew it, the truth about what happened To Tara had been carefully buried away. Cindy was
also struck with the fact that Konrad never once mentioned that he felt badly about what had happened to Tara. That simple fact might have been irrelevant, but Cindy was bothered by it.
Cindy got up of bed then and started pacing, trying to figure out what was upsetting her so.
“Stop,” Mattheus urged, as she got up. “Slow down, take it easy, tomorrow’s another day.”
Cindy walked out onto the balcony and let the dark night surround her. Something didn’t fit, and she wasn’t sure what it was. She mulled about it and realized that she didn’t know much about Tara yet, or Owen either, for that matter. Had Tara and Owen had a sudden fight that pushed her over the edge? How could Cindy be sure that Tara didn’t jump off the boat and swim into the front of it herself? Was she sick of life? Could it have been suicide? Did Tara want to die?”
Mattheus came out and stood at the edge of the balcony. “Come back to bed,” he said quietly.
“We don’t know much of anything about Tara yet, or Owen either,” Cindy replied.
“We have time to find out more about them later,” he said.
“Who knows how much time we really have?” Cindy responded. “Time is crazy, you think you have tons of it, and suddenly it disappears, no time left at all.”
“Cindy,” Mattheus walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “This isn’t about Tara, you’re reacting to your sister’s death now.”
“Well, if I am that’s not a bad thing, is it?” said Cindy, startled by Mattheus’s reply. “Maybe Ann’s death had made me more vigilant.”
“It’s not necessarily a bad thing,” said Mattheus, “but for now, it makes sense to rest. Pacing on the balcony isn’t going to give you more time. You can research Tara tomorrow.”
But Cindy couldn’t rest even if she wanted to. “I need to find out more about her tonight. I feel restless.”
“I see that,” said Mattheus.
“All of a sudden I started to wonder if Tara didn’t take her own life?” Cindy continued.
Mattheus was silent a moment. “Where did that thought come from?” he responded. “There’s no evidence of it.”
“But there’s also no evidence that she didn’t kill herself,” Cindy replied. She felt the pulse in her wrists pounding.
“If Tara committed suicide or even threatened to, Owen would have mentioned it,” Mattheus replied quickly. “It would have been a perfect out for him.”
“Not necessarily,” said Cindy. “Maybe Owen was horrified by it, maybe he was ashamed. He wants everyone to think he had the perfect marriage.”
“Or someone in Tara’s family would have mentioned that she was depressed,” Mattheus continued.
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Cindy retorted. “Did you see how depressed her brother Hank was? He didn’t seem normal.”
“That has nothing to do with Tara’s state of mind,” Mattheus was becoming uneasy.
“It could be that mental illness runs in the family,” said Cindy.
“Cindy, what’s going on? You’re all over the place,” Mattheus exclaimed. “This isn’t like you. You usually stick to the facts, stay on focus.”
“But I’m feeling there’s much more to this than we realize,” Cindy cried out.
Okay,” Mattheus’s voice grew low and soothing. “Sit down here on the balcony. I’ll bring out your computer and you can start researching. It will calm you down.”
*
Cindy was relieved to be out there alone with the computer, digging into the details of Tara’s life. First she turned to Tara’s Facebook page, which was open to the public. Tara stared out at Cindy from her page, almost as if she were there with her right now. Cindy stared back at her. Tara was a beautiful woman, in her early forties with smooth skin, long sand colored hair and large, hazel eyes. Her page was filled with friends, who seemed to resemble her in many ways. Obviously, she ran in a circle of solid companions. There were also pictures of her and Owen on the page, looking happy and well suited. To Cindy’s surprise, there were no pictures of Tara’s family to be found anywhere. There were some photos of volunteer work Tara did with orphans, though. Seems like she and Owen supported an orphanage and there were pictures of her with the children.
Cindy read the messages that lined her pages. Most were about plans for lunches, dinners, parties and sailing.
Tara, you’re a hidden angel, one of her friends commented on her page. Nobody knows the truly amazing work you do. No one appreciates it either.
No one appreciates it? Cindy took note. What about Owen? What did that message imply? Cindy kept scrolling and scanning. She also checked other sites looking for more information about Tara.
Incredible, silent philanthropist, one article about her online proclaimed. Tara Danden works under the radar to help children and families whose lives have been torn apart. Married to wealthy entrepreneur and investor Owen Danden, Tara sees to it that those less fortunate are cared for. She hosts charity luncheons and dinners regularly to benefit the Grassen Orphanage.
Cindy was suddenly struck with sadness for her. She also realized that no mention had been made anywhere of whether or not Tara had any children of her own. Cindy suddenly wondered if she and Owen had lost a child in the past? Was this why they were so intent on helping other children? Cindy looked further to see if there was any mention of Tara and Owen’s personal family. There wasn’t.
Cindy pushed her chair back from the table she was working at and ran her hands over her face. It was late and she felt exhausted. From what she’d found so far there was no reason to think that Tara had committed suicide. She didn’t seem impulsive, depressed or lonely. Cindy paused, took a deep breath and relaxed a bit. She wondered what had gripped her so fiercely about Tara, why she hadn’t been able to rest. Mattheus was right, it was time to go inside now and sleep. She’d have better perspective in the morning. Tomorrow was another day.
Chapter 8
First thing the next morning after breakfast, Mattheus decided to go down to the police station and research the Ranges Hospital. Cindy, feeling more rested and clear, decided to go straight back to the hospital and talk to the nurses who knew Tara and had cared for her.
“Good plan,” said Mattheus, relieved that Cindy was more like herself. “Take it slow,” he urged as they parted for the day.
Cindy reached out and gave Mattheus a hug before leaving.
“Boy, does that feels good,” he said, smiling. “I love when you’re affectionate like this, means the world to me.”
I love you, Mattheus and always will, Cindy wanted to say, but stayed quiet. It wasn’t time yet, close but not quite there. Cindy felt warm and safe with Mattheus though, as if life had spun on an axis and was bringing them closer with each day.
*
As soon as Cindy entered the Ranges Hospital she felt strange once again, as if she were going to a rest home hidden away on the hills. The elegant beauty the hospital exuded, being perched on top of a cliff with exquisite views of the ocean and sky made it seem as though illness and suffering could never find a way inside.
Cindy went straight up to the third floor, wanted to go back to Tara’s room. After she got out of the elevator, before she went any further though, she had to stop at the main desk. Cindy introduced herself to the young woman stationed there, told her where she was headed and asked to speak to Alana, the nurse who’d been in charge of Tara’s care.
“Oh, Alana,” the woman at the desk hesitated, “let me call the head nurse and she’ll help you.” The young woman quickly picked up the phone. “Cindy Blaine here to see Alana,” she said, then got quiet and listened. “The head nurse will be here to help you in just a second,” she finally said to Cindy as she put down the phone.
“Not the head nurse, I want to speak to Alana,” said Cindy, “the nurse in charge of Tara Danden’s case.”
But just as soon as Cindy finished speaking, a tall, well groomed, Jamaican woman walked swiftly to the desk.
“How do you do Ms. Blaine,�
� the woman professionally extended her hand. “I am the head nurse on the unit, Beatrice Flann. All of us here have heard a great deal about C and M Investigations.”
“Thank you,” said Cindy. “I was actually asking to see Alana, the nurse in charge of Tara Danden’s case.”
“We heard that Owen Danden hired you,” Beatrice went on, completing ignoring Cindy’s comment.
“Yes,” said Cindy, wondering what was going on.
“Please come with me,” Beatrice nodded crisply to Cindy, glancing quickly at the young woman at the desk who was openly staring at them, listening to every word.
As Cindy walked with Beatrice down the hall she looked to the side and noticed a beautiful lounge for guests, filled with plants and colorful paintings.
“This is an incredible hospital,” Cindy commented as they moved along.
“Yes, indeed,” Beatrice replied, “the facility is exquisite. But the gossip that goes on can be overwhelming, especially after something like this.”
“After something like Tara’s death?” Cindy asked plainly.
“Yes, of course,” Beatrice glanced at Cindy bitterly. “What else are we talking about? Why else are you visiting?”
“Is euthanasia a rare event at your hospital?” Cindy decided to plunge right in.
Beatrice seemed to take exception to that. “I beg your pardon?” she asked, suddenly standing still, her voice growing brittle. “It depends, of course, what you mean by euthanasia. Some patients leave directives in their wills requesting no further treatment in the event of a coma. That is not considered euthanasia.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” Cindy said softly. “Perhaps I didn’t phrase it correctly.”
“No, you phrased it perfectly,” Beatrice started walking again. “We’ll talk more about it in my private office,” she said as they approached a door that was locked. Beatrice took out a big silver key, turned it hard and let Cindy in.
The office was oddly narrow and dimly lit. Situated between two outdoor boulders, there was a view only of the dark side of a hill. Beatrice sat down behind her desk and motioned to Cindy to a chair opposite her, making sure the meeting had an entirely professional tone.
