by Jaden Skye
Frank’s head suddenly dropped into his hands again, as if he were trying to hide from the awful memory.
“I can’t go on,” he finally muttered.
“You can go on, Frank,” Cindy said softly. “You have to go on and tell me what happened, every single detail.”
“I don’t know what happened. Ann didn’t answer. First I checked on the patio. You know how much she loves sitting on patios, looking at the sky. So I went out there, but there was no one on it. So, I kept calling Ann, Ann, then I went over to the bed.” He stopped talking a moment as terror filled his face. “There she was totally still, laying face down. But Ann never lays face down, and on top of that, there was a pillow over her head. I reached down and shook her shoulder, but it didn’t move. She didn’t move. I shook it again and then started screaming. No matter how loud I was screaming, she didn’t move. So I grabbed the house phone and called downstairs for a doctor. I thought she had a heart attack.”
Cindy’s heart pounded violently as she listened to every word.
“The medical people came up in a second and pushed me away from the bedside. They flipped her onto her back, started pounding on her chest, breathing in her mouth. Finally, the doctor turned to me and said, “She’s gone.”
“Bring her back,” I yelled. “He said, I can’t.”
“What about the scratches on her neck?” Cindy could barely speak.
“They saw them later,” Frank eyes were twitching. “Thick scratches in her skin.”
“Was there blood?” asked Cindy.
“I don’t think so,” said Frank. “I have no idea why they think I did it? We were here for a vacation, I loved Ann.”
“I know you did, Frank,” Cindy whispered.
“All my life I loved her, I was good to her.”
“Yes, you were,” said Cindy, “I told that to the police. Tell me, was there anyone who had anything against Ann, Frank?”
“What are you talking about?” his voice got garbled again.
“Somebody killed her. Who would want to do that? What’s the reason?” Cindy felt the blood rush to her face.
“I have no idea, none at all,” Frank’s tortured voice rose louder. “Everyone loved her, she had a thousand friends. As soon as she met someone, Ann made friends with them. She didn’t hold a grudge, she wasn’t a fighter, she took things as they came.” The vein in Frank’s neck stuck out strongly.
“It’s okay, calm down,” Cindy tried to quiet him.
“I can’t calm down,” Frank shouted loudly, “I never will.” I can’t bear this, not any of it. I’ve got to get out of here.”
“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” Cindy put her hand over his, “I’ll bail you out as soon as I can.”
*
When Cindy stepped out of the room with Frank, Trage was outside waiting.
“My brother in law doesn’t belong in custody,” Cindy said quickly. “I’m bailing him out.”
Trage looked surprised. “It’s a fairly large bail,” he said quietly.
“Large or small, I’ll do it,” said Cindy,” It’s wrong, it’s not fair and I’m bailing him out.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” said Trage slowly.
Cindy was incensed. “Frank’s not a flight risk. I’ll hold all his possessions and personally guarantee that we’ll stay in Bermuda until he’s cleared.”
“I get it, I get it,” said Trage, somewhat tentatively. “I’ll see what I can do.
Cindy felt a huge sense of relief at the idea of getting Frank out of custody. That was a good sign, she thought, that things would move in their direction. She’d get Frank out of jail and cleared and find out what happened to Ann. Then what would happen? Cindy couldn’t bear to think of how life would be without her sister. A deep pit filled her stomach at the thought of not having Ann around. It made her feel completely unanchored. But she couldn’t allow herself to dwell upon that now. This was the time to stay focused and clear. She owed that to Ann, at the very least.
“What’s next on the agenda?” Trage asked, as the two of them walked down the hall, away from the room they were holding Frank in.
“Next, I’m going to see my sister,” said Cindy, her voice suddenly dropping.
Trage was momentarily taken aback. “See your sister?”
“I want to go to the morgue,” said Cindy, growing more resolute.
Trage grimaced noticeably. “There’s no need for it. Ann’s body has been identified.”
“But I need to see her,” Cindy demanded.
“Why?” asked Trage.
“Because I love her,” the words spilled out of Cindy. “I want to see her, to say good-bye.”
Trage put his hand on her shoulder. “There’s lots of ways to say good-bye. I don’t think it’s not a good idea for you to see her in the morgue.”
“I’m going anyway,” Cindy insisted.
“I’ll take you there if you insist,” said Trage, “but, first let me ask you one thing.”
“What?” asked Cindy, impatient.
“Don’t you think it’s a good idea for you to call your partner down to help you with a case like this?” Trage asked tentatively.
Cindy stopped cold. “Mattheus is busy with another case,” she repeated, not meeting Trage’s eyes.
“But this isn’t just another case. I’d say this was an emergency,” Trage broke in. “The victim’s your sister. I’m sure he would want to be down here to help you with it.”
Cindy suddenly paused. Yes, of course, Mattheus would want to help her with this, but Cindy didn’t know if she could ask him. She wasn’t even sure if they were still a team. Right now he was with Andrea and Petra. Cindy had no idea if Mattheus was getting back with Petra; if he wanted them to become a real family. If that was happening, Cindy couldn’t bear having him around, ever.
“Thanks for the suggestion,” said Cindy, “I’ll think it over.”
Trage looked surprised. “Think it over? This is an emergency in your life, Cindy.”
Cindy suddenly realized how difficult it must be for Trage and the other cops to deal with a detective who was investigating her own sister’s death. They’d probably feel much better if Mattheus was around, with a cooler had.
“I’ve been through other emergencies before,” Cindy stood taller. “When my husband was killed on our honeymoon in Barbados, I handled the investigation myself. No one even thought it was a murder. They all thought it was an accident, and I didn’t even know Mattheus then. I just pushed forward on my own and found his killer.”
Trage whistled under his breath. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I had no idea.”
“I can do this on my own again,” Cindy went on.
Trage looked at her with admiration, “I respect you Cindy, I l really do,” he replied. “I had no idea about your husband being killed. I’ll do whatever works for you.”
Chapter 5
Neither Trage nor Cindy said a word in the car as they drove to the morgue. Though it was a short drive through thick underbrush, time seemed to stretch out forever. They day, which had started out sunny, quickly grew overcast as well, only adding to the gloom. It was unusual weather for this time of year.
“It’s too early for the hurricane season, isn’t it?” Cindy said to Trage, wiping the perspiration from her forehead, as the stultifying humidity rose.
“Yes, it is,” he nodded. “The official hurricane season is from June through November, but the humidity can rise quite a bit in May. Some people have difficulty with it,” and he looked over at Cindy. “Heat stroke, rashes -.”
Cindy didn’t want to hear anymore. “It’s fine, it’s nothing,” she stopped him. “At least I can feel hot and sweaty – Ann can’t feel anything anymore.”
“That’s one way of looking at it,” Trage said.
“I should be grateful I’m hot and sweaty,” Cindy continued. “And, if a hurricane came, at least I could watch the waves get wild and beautiful. Ann will never see that again.”
<
br /> “Cindy, I’m staying beside you as you view your sister,” Trage remarked as the car turned a corner and drove up to a long, low, flat, stucco building, which housed the morgue, and parked in front of it.
“It’s not necessary,” said Cindy, turning to him. “I need time with my sister alone. You can wait outside.”
“I’m not waiting outside,” Trage seemed deeply uneasy. “I’ll wait in the office up front.”
Cindy shrugged, “Wait wherever you like, but I want to be alone with Ann.”
“It’s not the way you think it will be,” Trage remarked, anxiously. “I’ve seen families come to view bodies –it’s heartbreaking and nerve wracking.”
Cindy nodded, “Of course it is,” she whispered, trying to open the car door to get out.
Trage put his hand on hers and stopped her. “Family members don’t usually go in alone,” he continued quietly. “Relatives aren’t allowed to touch or hold the body in any way at all,” he emphasized.
“Of course not,” Cindy continued for him, “that’s in order to preserve any forensic evidence that may still be present.”
“Exactly,” said Trage.
“Let’s go,” Cindy shook his hand off. She was eager to get out and into the building.
Trage wasn’t ready yet, though. “Cindy, your sister’s being held in one of the refrigerated drawers. You’ll only be able to look through a curtained window at her face.”
Cindy’s entire body trembled.
“I don’t say this to disturb you,” Trage’s voice caught in his throat. “I want you to be prepared.”
“I am prepared,” said Cindy.
“No, you’re not, you just think you are,” Trage was insistent. “Everything’s happening too fast; you jumped into the role of a detective without having had time to take it all in.”
Cindy wondered why Trage cared so much.
“I’ve received a call from a friend of yours back home, Pastor Mallord,” Trage went on as if hearing her unspoken question.
Cindy smiled slightly. “He’s a wonderful man,” she said softly.
“Mallord’s worried about you. He told me all about you, said they don’t make women like you anymore.” Trage continued. “I promised I’d watch over you for him.”
“Thank you,” said Cindy, touched.
“Mallord told me to tell you you’re in his prayers,” Trage went on, uncomfortable.
Cindy nodded. She needed his prayers now and so did Ann. Trage was right, Cindy hadn’t had the time to absorb any of this, but what difference did that make? She had to find Ann’s killer and clear Frank right away. What good would it do anyone for Cindy to sit alone now and sob? Grieving was a luxury she couldn’t afford right now.
“Come on, let’s go,” said Cindy. “It’s enough, I get it! I want to see my sister now.”
*
Cindy and Trage got out of the car and walked into the building that housed the morgue. The ceilings were low and the walls made of stucco. In contrast to the moist heat outside it was incredibly cold in here. Cindy shivered terrifically.
As they walked to the front desk Trage said a few words to a thin lipped British woman at the desk, who nodded somberly. She wore no makeup and looked at Cindy oddly before she picked up the phone to call for an attendant.
“The attendant will take you to the waiting room where families sit before they view the body,” explained Trage.
“Ann’s not a body, she’s my sister,”” Cindy replied.
“Of course she’s your sister,” Trage backed off.
“Something else could have happened to her,” Cindy went on. “And only I would recognize it, because I know every little thing about Ann. If there’s an unusual mark that wasn’t there before, I’ll make note that it should be scrutinized.”
“Good enough,” Trage agreed.
“Besides, when will I have a chance to see her again?” Cindy suddenly asked, petulantly.
Trage looked distressed. “I understand,” he replied.
“Really?” Cindy wanted to know.
“Yes, I do,” Trage remarked. “I’m close to every one of my brothers and sisters. If something like this happened to any of them, it would break me in two. I couldn’t do what you’re doing now, Cindy.”
It meant a great deal to Cindy that he understood.
“You’re not alone with this, either, Cindy,” Trage went on. “Your mother and uncle called early this morning. They arrived in Bermuda late last night, staying at the same hotel as you.”
“Do they want to come down here and see Ann, too?” The idea of it relieved Cindy. She wanted the entire family to come and say good-bye, to give Ann the farewell she so richly deserved.
“No, your mother didn’t say that,” Trage answered quickly, “she just mentioned to me that Ann wanted to be cremated.”
A long, slow chill passed through Cindy’s body. She remembered that Ann had mentioned cremation on various occasions.
“That’s right, she did want that,” Cindy replied, “but we can’t do it right away. The body’s a trove of evidence, isn’t it?”
“It’s going to be checked for everything,” Trage assured her. “Forensic pathologists are routinely flown in from Canada and tissue samples are gathered and sent away for further testing.”
Cindy felt some relief at that.
“Have you seen or spoken to your family yet?” Trage continued, obviously upset that Cindy was alone.
The thought of seeing her family hadn’t even crossed Cindy’s mind, though.
“I’m sure they need you,” Trage urged.
“My sister needs me more, first I want to see her,” said Cindy said abruptly, as a tall, heavy set, Caribbean attendant made his way to where Cindy was standing. They looked at each other briefly and without a word he motioned her to follow him,
“I’ll be waiting right here,” Trage called after her, nervously.
Cindy felt a wave of appreciation for Trage’s concern. “Thank you,” she called back, “you’re special, so helpful. It means a lot!”
*
Cindy’s footsteps grew slower and heavier as she trailed behind the attendant to a large, grey door. He opened it and she walked into a small waiting room on the side. Before she even sat down, though, a woman dressed in white trousers and puffy jacket, her face covered with a sterile mask, came into the waiting room and guided Cindy with her into the morgue.
The morgue was a large, cold, antiseptic, and reeked of death. The shock of being in here rolled over Cindy like an enormous, dark wave. For a horrible instant, her knees buckled and she felt herself going under.
“My God,” Cindy uttered.
The woman turned and put her hand on Cindy’s shoulder. “You okay?” she asked.
“I’m okay,” Cindy managed, rallying. “Where’s my sister?”
The woman pointed to the far wall where the bodies were stored in heavy drawers. The two of them walked there slowly and the woman leaned over to one drawer and pulled out Ann. The body was covered by a plain, white cloth but there was a plastic cover over her face. Cindy could still see her.
Ann’s face was fathomless, still, completely grey, only a mask of the beautiful woman she had been. Cindy retched as the room started spinning and felt as if she would vomit.
“Ann, Ann,” Cindy cried out.
The woman turned abruptly and steadied Cindy, as if she were accustomed to this kind of response.
After a few moments Cindy regained her balance. “Show me her wounds,” Cindy pleaded. “I’m a detective and I know that the body holds secrets - speaks loud and clear.”
“Yes, it does, dear,” the woman agreed.
Thankfully, the woman pulled down the edge of the white sheet until Cindy could see Ann’s neck. It was covered with scratches that were wide and jagged and looked as though they’d been made by claws. Cindy stared at them, long and hard.
“These wounds will be checked thoroughly?” Cindy asked the woman. “There’s got to be ever
ything here, DNA here, fingerprints, the works.”
“Absolutely,” the woman agreed. “Don’t worry, we have one of the best forensic teams imaginable. Nothing will be left unexplored.”
Cindy’s heart pounded as she stared at Ann’s neck. “My sister struggled for her life,” she murmured.
“It looks that way,” the woman paused. “I’m sorry.”
“She suffered like hell,” Cindy’s voice grew gritty. “She was overpowered but she knew what was happening. She knew she was dying, I feel it!”
“We don’t have those details yet,” the woman tried to ground Cindy.
“But it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Cindy snapped.
“Nothing is obvious,” the woman said strongly. “We imagine all kinds of horrible things, but we have to investigate everything, inch by inch.”
“No, you’re wrong,” Cindy shook her head wildly, as if to shake the horrible scene away. “Investigate or not, some things are obvious. I can feel Ann’s struggle, she was screaming for help.”
“Do you want time alone with your sister?” the woman backed away.
To her surprise, Cindy did not. She saw what she needed. This was enough. Of course ultimately Cindy wanted time with her sister, but Ann was definitely not here anymore. This was only a shell that she’d left behind. Cindy desperately needed to connect with her sister, and somehow she would, but this was not the place or time.
“Thank you for your help,” Cindy said to the woman, as she quickly pivoted, turned and fled from the room.
As Cindy walked back to the front desk she quieted down, knew she had to become strong and planted. When she walked out of the morgue, Cindy had to return to a place that went on as if nothing awful every happened beneath the island’s beautiful exterior.
*
By the time Cindy saw Trage up front, she’d gathered herself, thanked him and let him drive her back to the hotel.
“You have all the evidence you need on the body,” Cindy finally broken the silence between them in the car.
“Looks like it,” Trage acquiesced, “but we can’t be sure until results are in.”
“Have you started the steps to let me take Frank out on bail?” Cindy quickly turned to Trage.
