Death by Betrayal (Book #10 in the Caribbean Murder series)

by Jaden Skye

  Trage looked down. “Right now we’re holding him for questioning at the jailhouse,” he replied.

  Cindy was stunned. “Why?”

  “Routine procedure,” Trage continued, “he’s next of kin and the last one to see your sister alive.”

  “Frank loved Ann with all his heart,” Cindy suddenly burst out wailing, frozen with horror at the implication that Frank could be involved. “They’ve been together for years, he’s always loved her. He’s been tremendously good to her.”

  “He said he was swimming in the pool when your sister was killed,” Trage broke in. “But no one saw him there.” The sound of Cindy’s wailing clearly disturbed him.

  “That’s no reason to hold him,” Cindy insisted.

  “He has no alibi,” Trage went on.

  “So what? That’s not evidence of anything,”Cindy’s eyes flared.

  “It’s enough for us to hold him,” Trage looked directly at her.

  His strange look woke Cindy up, shook her out of her reveries and filled her with fear. This was a grim reality she was dealing with. She had to be as clear and keen as she could be. There’d be plenty of time for grieving later. For all she knew Frank could be in danger now as well.

  “We also need to question you about your sister,” Trage continued. “We need to know as much as we can about Ann.”

  “You can ask me anything you like,” Cindy flipped into a professional stance, “and I need to question you as well. I’m working this case right along with you.”

  Trage stepped back and shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he started.

  “Oh, yes it is,” Cindy interrupted.

  “You’re way too involved,” he said kindly. “This is family we’re talking about.”

  “I’m not involved barely enough,” Cindy’s eyes flashed at him. “You’re right, this is my sister and I intend to work full out on the case. I need your support.”

  Trage grew quiet, rubbing his foot back and forth on the floor.

  “You need me too,” Cindy then said, her voice rising. “So does Ann and Frank.”

  A look of sadness crossed Trage’s face. “Alright,” he said finally. “Doesn’t seem like you’ll take no for an answer, anyway.”

  “Of course I won’t,” said Cindy fiercely. “Ann is not only my sister, she’s my best friend.”

  Trage went along with Cindy. “First we have to check into the hotel,” he said quietly.

  “Then I want see the crime scene immediately,” Cindy demanded, feeling waves of adrenalin soaring through her. “After that I have to speak to Frank.”

  “Whoah, calm down there,” said Trage in a throaty tone. “One thing at a time.”

  “There’s no time to lose, none,” answered Cindy.

  “Cindy,” Trage put his hand gently on her shoulder, “you have to calm down. Investigations take time. There’s no imminent danger, no rush to save anyone. Your sister is gone.”

  *

  Gone, the word echoed through Cindy’s mind as Trage checked in for her at the front desk. The reality of what had happened to her sister flashed through Cindy suddenly like a wave of lightening, that struck fiercely and then disappeared.

  “Was Ann in pain?” Cindy asked, her voice choking, as Trage turned from the desk.

  “We have no way of knowing that yet,” he replied softly.

  “You are sure this was a crime? She didn’t have a heart attack?” Cindy had a thousand questions for him.

  “There were scratches on the neck that showed evidence of a struggle,” Trage responded quietly. “

  “What kind of scratches? Who made them?” Cindy had to know.

  “The body’s in the morgue right now. Soon it will be seen by the medical examiner,” Trage replied. “We’ll know more later on.”

  Cindy’s heart clutched. “I want to see my sister as soon as possible,” her words fell over one another.

  “Cindy, are you sure you’re ready for this?” Trage responded as they walked to the elevator to visit the crime scene on the third floor.

  “Of course not. No one is ever ready for something like this,” Cindy replied fitfully, “but where else could I be? What else can I do?”

  *

  The elevator rose to the third floor quickly, opened and let them out just a few steps from the room Ann and Frank had been staying in. A policeman stood guard outside the door. He was young, very slim and jittery, looked like he was new on the force.

  Trage walked over to him and said something under his breath, and the cop looked over at Cindy furtively.

  “Sorry about what happened,” he said, nodding to her. It obviously upset him to see her.

  “Thanks for helping,” Cindy responded.

  “Okay, let us in Rob,” Trage ordered.

  Rob opened the door slowly and Cindy and Trage walked carefully into the crime scene.

  Cindy trembled from head to foot. This was the place where Ann had lost her life. Two policemen were in the room collecting evidence, brushing the walls for fingerprints. Other than that, there was an oddly peaceful sense about it. The room was spacious and beautiful, with ivory furniture and a plush beige carpet. Large windows looked out at rows of palm trees that bordered the back of the hotel. Yellow bands had been draped around parts of the area, designating it a crime scene. Otherwise nothing was out of order, there was no sense of chaos, fear or despair here. There was no sense of Ann here either, none at all.

  Cindy wanted to go to the closet, take out Ann’s clothes and hold them. She wanted to smell her sister’s scent, feel her presence.

  “You said my sister fought for her life?” Cindy asked Trage her eyes avidly searching every nook and cranny of the place. “There’s no sign of a struggle.”

  “No, there isn’t,” said Trage. “But the scratches on her neck tell another story.”

  “There has to be DNA with scratches,” Cindy was right on it.

  “Usually true,” said Trage soberly.

  “That should clear things up quickly,” Cindy replied.

  “Not completely,” said Trage. “DNA alone doesn’t speak to motive, or who engineered the death.”

  Cindy could feel that Trage suspected Frank, whether or not they found his DNA on the scratches.

  “There’s no sign of a break in either,” said Cindy, looking around.

  “No, there isn’t,” said Trage definitively. “Which is why we’ve concluded that Ann knew her killer, let him in.”

  “Or the room could have been open,” Cindy remarked. “Ann was never one for locking up behind her. She left doors unlocked all the time. She was a trusting soul.”

  Trage shook his head, “sorry to hear that.”

  “Sorry that she was trusting?” Cindy took exception. “I’m not, I’m proud of her. Ann lived her life finding the best in everyone.”

  “Didn’t do her much good now, did it?” Trage replied.

  “Better to live and be trusting then curled up in fear,” Cindy had a burning need to defend everything about her sister. Ann didn’t deserve this. Nothing she had ever done in her life warranted her having such a horrible ending.

  Rob came into the room for a second and said something to Trage that Cindy couldn’t hear. Trage nodded and thanked him and Rob went back out on his post.

  “What’s going on?” Cindy didn’t want to miss a thing.

  “Rob said he heard your mother and uncles have landed at the airport and will be checking in shortly. They’re staying in the hotel as well, on the sixth floor.”

  The news gave Cindy no comfort. The last one she wanted to see now was her mother, or her mother’s brother, Ben. The two of them were joined at the hip and Cindy was glad Ben was here with her mother, but Cindy had important work to do. This was more than a family matter, it was a murder that she had to solve. She needed to stay clear headed to do it, not get pulled into family sorrow and blame.

  Cindy broke away from Trage’s side and started walking slowly around the room,
taking in whatever she saw. Everything was in its place. There was a sofa at one end of the room with a coffee table in front of it. A bunch of yellow tulips was on the coffee table, along with an opened box of chocolates. Yellow tulips were Ann’s favorite flower and those were the chocolates she loved. Obviously Frank had taken extra pains to make her happy.

  “Ann and Frank were down here for a vacation,” Cindy murmured.

  “So we’ve heard,” Trage mumbled.

  “Nothing in the room says otherwise either,” Cindy noted.

  “Not to the immediate eye,” Trage replied. “We’re dusting for fingerprints and have checked for footprints. We’re also going over the room and body for DNA.”

  Cindy took a quick, painful breath and as she scanned the beige carpet more closely, her eye suddenly fell upon a tiny rhinestone, embedded in it.

  “What’s that?” Cindy said, going over to pick up the rhinestone immediately.

  “Don’t touch anything,” Trage shot back.

  Cindy rushed over, picked up the tiny rhinestone and held it between her fingers. Trage came over quickly and looked at it.

  “Could have come off something your sister was wearing,” he said.

  “Could have, could have,” Cindy held it more closely. Ann had a bathing suit, she remembered with tiny rhinestones. Suddenly Cindy doubled over sobbing. “Ann, Ann, she cried desperately.”

  Trage put his arm around her shoulder and led her to the sofa. “It’ll be okay,” he said in a hushed tone.

  “No, it won’t, not ever,” Cindy gasped between sobs.

  “Does this rhinestone belong to your sister?” Trage asked gently.

  “It could have, I’m not sure,” sobbed Cindy.

  “We have to find out more about your sister,” Trage went on. “Did she have any enemies?”

  Cindy wiped her face with the back of her hand, and looked up. “Definitely not. Everyone loved her. Ann never had an enemy her whole life long.”

  “She obviously did though,” Trage replied. “We just don’t know who yet.”

  Chapter 4

  Even though Cindy didn’t want to leave Ann’s room, ever, Trage finally insisted that she go to the room reserved for her, down the hall.

  “It’s been the worst day of your life,” he said, as he carried her luggage and dropped it off. “Try to sleep, get some rest. You won’t be any good without it. We’ll get together first thing in the morning and get right back on the case then.”

  The worst day of her life? Yes, it was; right up there with the day she found Clint, dead on the beach in Barbados on their honeymoon. How was it possible this nightmare was happening again? One by one those she loved were snatched from her.

  “Is the room okay? Are you comfortable in it?” Trage asked, before leaving her alone. “Anything else I can get you?”

  “It’s fine,” said Cindy, not bothering to look around. She’d been in so many hotel rooms, they all blurred into one. All that mattered now was finding out what happened to Ann and also helping Frank. It was awful that he was being held. It was crazy.

  “First thing tomorrow morning I want to see Frank in jail,” Cindy said to Trage then, in no uncertain terms.

  “You got it,” Trage replied. “Anything else I can do?”

  Cindy softened for a brief moment. Trage was a fine guy, he was trying his best, caught in a tight spot with Cindy demanding to be involved in solving her sister’s murder.

  “No, thank you so much for everything,” Cindy came to herself. “You’ve been a real help. I appreciate it.”

  Trage seemed pleased to hear that. “That’s what I do this job for,” he replied. “I’m here to help you, Cindy.”

  Cindy felt grateful. “Thank you,” she murmured again, as he turned and left for the night.

  Finally, alone in her room, Cindy fell onto the sofa, buried her head in the pillows and sobbed and sobbed until she could barely breathe. How would she ever sleep again? How would she be able to wake up fresh in the morning and get on the case, clear headed? It felt by now as though it were the middle of the night. She had to sleep, had to put her grief on the back burner until she found out what happened to Ann. There would be no way to live until she did, and there was no one else she could trust with the case, either.

  Cindy got up, went into the bathroom, dried her eyes, splashed cold water over her face, took off her clothes and got into a hotel robe. She had to sleep. Ann needed her to. Or else, she’d be no good for anything. Somehow or other Cindy managed to crawl to her bed, slip beneath the covers, and let herself fall into a quick, deep sleep.

  *

  The bright morning sunlight shone in on Cindy, waking her swiftly. Confused, for a moment, she looked around the room. Where was she? Not in Oyster Bay any longer. It took a second to recollect all that had happened and where she was now.

  “Oh my God, Ann,” Cindy called out, jumped up, got out of bed, ran to her suitcase, opened it and clawed through the clothing. It was morning, she had to dress immediately, have a quick breakfast and get to the jail to talk to Frank. Not a second to lose.

  Before Cindy dressed she called down for coffee and eggs to be brought to the room. She wanted to get right over to the jail, not waste time in a restaurant.

  The food came quickly, before she was finished dressing and Cindy gulped it down, dragged a brush through her hair and called Trage.

  “I’m on my way down to the station to see Frank,” she announced the moment he picked up the phone. “Get him ready.”

  “He’s ready,” Trage responded.

  “Thanks,” said Cindy.

  “Wait a minute,” said Trage, “how are you, did you sleep?”

  Cindy was taken aback at the concern in his voice. “I slept, I had breakfast and I’m on the way to the station,” Cindy shot back.

  “You’re something else, Cindy,” Trage said softly.

  *

  The cab wound through the beautiful streets of Bermuda easily, arriving at the police station in no time at all. Along with everything else Cindy’d seen so far, the police station was housed in a modern, clean, well designed, well-tended building. Bermuda was upscale in every way, an idyllic place on the ocean, which seemed to have everything running flawlessly. There was a sense of order and safety here that helped a visitor relax. But this place wasn’t safe, it wasn’t idyllic. Her sister had been killed here, laying on her beautifully appointed bed.

  Cindy paid the driver and raced into the building. Frank was being held here and she couldn’t wait to talk to him.

  Trage was calmly waiting for Cindy at the main entrance. “Good morning,” he said, trying to take the edge off and create a semblance of normality. Trage had a stalwart way about him that Cindy appreciated.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  “Let me take you to where Frank is being held,” Trage said as the two of them walked down the wide, airy hallway, “it’s just a few steps away.”

  “Thanks again,” said Cindy, eager to see Frank.

  “Your brother in law can’t wait to see you,” Trage filled her in.

  “Same here,” Cindy replied. “And, I want to talk to him alone.”

  “You got it,” said Trage.

  “I still don’t know why you’re holding him,” Cindy suddenly snapped, turning to Trage quickly. “It’s bad enough that he lost his wife, but to end up in jail overnight for it!”

  “Protocol,” Trage said slowly.

  “That’s not a good enough answer,” Ann looked swiftly into his eyes.

  “Maybe you’re right, maybe you aren’t,” Trage scratched his head, “but it’s what we’ve got. I’m sure you and Mattheus have run into protocol.”

  “Yes, we have,” Cindy quickly agreed as they grew closer to where Frank was being held. She felt odd at the mention of Mattheus and thought for a second what it would be like to have him here.

  “Okay, Frank’s in this room to the left,” Trage finally said, stopping in front of the door. “You’re on your
own for now.”

  Cindy nodded, opened the door and walked into a small, dim room, where Frank was sitting at a long steel table, his head in his hands.

  “Frank!” Cindy ran over to him, as he looked up, and grabbed his hands.

  “Cindy, Cindy, my God, you’re here,” Frank murmured and started to cry.

  “I got here late last night,” she quickly breathed.

  “Bless you, bless you,” Frank could barely speak.

  “Talk to me Frank,” Cindy gripped his hands more tightly as he gripped her hands back.

  “Get me out of here, Cindy,” his voice was wobbly. “I didn’t do a thing.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” Cindy exclaimed. “What happened, tell me?”

  Frank’s drawn face cringed at the thought of going over it again. “I don’t know,” he started. “I can’t remember.”

  “You have to remember – everything,” Cindy demanded, “Your life depends on it.”

  Frank shuddered, “It was late afternoon. I went down to the pool for a quick swim. Ann didn’t want to go with me, she wanted to rest. I told her I’d be back in a few minutes and she was perfectly fine with it.” He looked up at Cindy bleakly. “We were having a good time, things were going great, no friction. She just wanted to rest.”

  “Go on, Frank,” Cindy muttered, “tell me what happened.”

  The pool was practically empty, just a few people in it. They were busy with each other, no one took notice when I jumped in. Why should they? I swam for a little while and then got out and lay on a lounge for a few minutes. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

  “Of course not, nothing at all,” Cindy breathed. “Did you order a drink? Did a waiter see you?”

  “No, I didn’t,” said Frank. “I was going to go back up and have drinks and dinner later with Ann. I was just cooling off. Is that so terrible?”

  “It isn’t terrible! Go on Frank, tell me exactly what happened then.”

  “I stayed down there for about half an hour and then went upstairs to be with Ann. When I got into our room, right away it felt funny. It was too quiet, there was a pall in the air. I called out, Ann, where are you? She didn’t answer. That’s wasn’t like her, you know. Ann talks her head off.”