by Jaden Skye
That was unexpected and felt good to hear.
“How about leaving the computer for now and us taking some time together?” he said.
Cindy wanted to do it, but was also afraid. She sensed something here that they could not let go of.
“I want to,” said Cindy, “but it bothers me that Kate wrote about predators. It doesn’t sit right.”
“So, go back and see exactly when that message was written,” said Mattheus. “Put it in perspective and let it be.”
Cindy scrolled back to the message and checked the exact time and date it was sent. As she did, she froze in horror.
“My God,” Cindy called out suddenly.
“What?” asked Mattheus, unnerved.
“My God, my God” Cindy’s voice got louder, “this message was sent after Kate was dead.” Frantically, Cindy scrolled further. “So were the others!”
“What others? What others?” cried Mattheus.
“Mattheus, Mattheus,” Cindy suddenly cried from the top of her lungs, “Kate never announced her engagement to Clay. The messages were sent after she was dead. Kate didn’t post them. Who did?”
CHAPTER 21
“We’ve got to find out who wrote and posted those messages,” Cindy said to Mattheus urgently.
“I’m going with the case as it is,” Mattheus replied. “There will never be a way to prove who wrote them. Kate could have written them before she died, and then someone posted them later. We’ll never know, we’ll never know.”
“Someone was obviously pretending to be Kate,” Cindy replied firmly. “They announced the engagement after she’d died. Why? It’s weird, it’s crazy.”
Mattheus wouldn’t get into it. “You’re chasing a rainbow,” he said. “There are lots of them across the sky, especially after a storm.”
“This is not a rainbow, it’s a lead,” Cindy was inflamed. “Who else had access to Kate’s computer except Clay?”
“We don’t know,” answered Mattheus in a clipped tone, “and by now the computer has so many fingerprints on it, it’s anyone’s guess.” Then he got up and walked to the door. “I’m taking a walk,” he said. “I’ll be back later.”
“When?” asked Cindy, ruffled.
“Does it really matter?” asked Mattheus. “You’re busy anyway, off and running after a new lead.”
It was hard to believe that Mattheus had become so lackadaisical, not really like him at all, thought Cindy. He must have believed that she was using it to put a wedge between them, avoid being back on vacation again. But his lack of involvement troubled Cindy deeply. It also made her wonder whether their working together was even a good idea anymore.
After Mattheus walked out and closed the door, Cindy immediately put in a call to Carl, who picked up instantly.
At first, it was hard for Cindy to talk to him though. It should have been Mattheus she was talking this over with, thought Cindy, flustered.
“What’s going on?” asked Carl, surprised to hear from Cindy so soon.
“There’s been a sharp turn in the road,” Cindy finally managed, in a husky tone.
“What’s wrong?” Carl picked up her urgency.
Cindy regained herself quickly and jumped in. “Kate never posted those messages on her Facebook page about her engagement. They were posted after she had already died.”
A frozen silence greeted Cindy on the other end of the phone.
“Did you hear what I said, Carl?” asked Cindy.
“I’m just taking it in,” he replied, horrified.
“Someone else posted the announcement of Kate’s engagement,” Cindy repeated
Carl’s voice sounded strangled. “I don’t know what to make of this,” he uttered, “what does it mean?”
“We’ve got to find out who wrote and posted those messages,” said Cindy fervently. “And it has to be done immediately.”
“We?” asked Carl, “you and me?”
“Yes,” said Cindy.
“What about Mattheus?” Carl sounded dumbfounded.
“Mattheus is not into it,” Cindy replied. “He still believes that Sean did it. Right now, he’s gone out for a walk.”
“At a time like this?” Carl couldn’t believe it.
“I need your help Carl,” Cindy could barely speak.
“Of course I’ll help you. I’m on it completely. I’ll make those calls and find out exactly where we can find Clay when he’s not in the hotel. Give me a few seconds and I’ll call you right back.”
True to his word, in about ten minutes Carl called back. He learned that Clay hung out at a rocky cliff on the Western, primitive side of the island. The cliff was high above the ocean, with an incredible view of the sky and sea. The airports would be opening day after tomorrow, and Clay and his family were grounded until then. If they couldn’t find Clay at the hotel, that was where he’d probably be.
“You’ve done a fantastic job finding this out,” Cindy breathed, thrilled. “Wonderful.”
“Thanks,” said Carl, gratified. “It’s the least I can do. But I’ve also decided I’m going there first thing tomorrow morning to surprise Clay myself.”
“Not a good idea,” Cindy retorted sharply.
“Once I see him that guy won’t know what hit him,” Carl continued. “I’m gonna drill the bastard for all he’s worth.”
“I don’t recommend it,” said Cindy.
“Why not?” asked Carl perturbed.
“Don’t go alone,” said Cindy, “meetings like that can become tricky. I’ll get Mattheus to join you.”
“That’s the last person I want to go with,” scoffed Carl.
“Mattheus is a professional and he’s on the case,” Cindy became no nonsense. “You hired him exactly for a situation like this.”
“How about you?” asked Carl, “you’re a professional too, aren’t you?”
“I’d love to join you,” said Cindy, “but I think Clay may talk more without a woman around.”
“Could be the opposite?” said Carl. “The guy’s pretty close to his mother.”
Cindy thought about it for a moment. Maybe Carl was right. Clay had seemed more open to her initially when Carl was not around.
But none of that seemed to matter much to Carl. “Maybe you’re right about my going with Mattheus,” Carl said, “but whether or not he comes along, I’m going to be there first thing tomorrow morning, around ten o’clock. If Mattheus wants to come, let him. I couldn’t care less. I’ve got questions for Clay that he’s going to answer, like it or not.”
*
Mattheus came back about an hour later, quiet and reserved. Cindy had been waiting up for him on the sofa, going through some magazines.
“I’ve been waiting up for you,” she said when Mattheus came in.
Mattheus looked surprised. “Why?”
“Because I want to talk to you.”
“We’ve talked a lot, Cindy,” said Mattheus with resignation. “Too much, maybe?”
“What is that supposed to mean?” she asked.
“I’m tired of talking about the same things over and over again,” he said.
Obviously he was thinking of their relationship, not the case. Cindy had to get him back on track.
“I’m not referring to our relationship,” said Cindy then. “I want to talk about the case.”
“You’re obsessed with the case,” Mattheus turned full force on her. “You’re addicted, driven, completely consumed.”
Cindy was shocked at the vehemence of his tone. Obviously, he’d been thinking about it.
“I’ve seen this before and I’m seeing it again now,” Mattheus continued. “This has become a sickness.”
Cindy felt her face flush. “It’s a sickness to want to find out the truth?”
“That’s right, in this case, it’s a sickness. Even after a case is solved, I’ve seen detectives dwell on it for months. They become positive something was overlooked, that they didn’t do enough. They begin to feel like it’s their respo
nsibility to save the entire world. It’s a sickness, Cindy.”
“Yes, it is, but I don’t have it,” Cindy cried out. “There’s new, important evidence here.”
“That’s what they always say,” Mattheus yelled back. “This one new lead will turn everything around.”
Cindy felt sweat break out on her forehead. If Mattheus refused to listen to and acknowledge the importance of the fact that Kate had died before her messages were posted which one of them was in denial? She took a deep breath, got up and walked out onto the patio.
Mattheus followed her out there. He came close to her and put his hands on her shoulders lightly.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, “I just want to wake you up.”
“Carl is going to a rocky peak on the Western side of the island to confront Clay tomorrow morning,” Cindy replied. “He wants you to accompany him.”
“He wants me to accompany him? Or you do?”
“I don’t think he should do this alone,” said Cindy.
“It’s nice to see how much you care about Carl,” Mattheus responded, “how busy you are looking after his welfare.”
“Carl hired us to solve this case,” replied Cindy bitterly.
“The case has been solved,” Mattheus quipped. “Carl hasn’t hired us to be his bodyguards while he works out his anger with his niece’s fiancée. First he was angry with Sean, now his anger has turned towards Clay.”
“It’s not quite like that,” said Cindy.
“Well, tell me what it is then?” said Mattheus. “You know Carl much better than I do anyway.”
Cindy bit her lip hard. Mattheus’s devastating jealousy clouded his vision and judgment every time it flared up like this.
“You say I have a sickness,” Cindy said, “how about you and your jealousy? It’s crazy and rampant. The least little thing can spark it. It clouds your judgment, Mattheus.”
“I accept that,” said Mattheus, “but I do not accept the fact that it is my duty to accompany Carl to an encounter with Clay. Carl’s doing this for personal reasons that have nothing to do with the case.”
“Everything has to do with the case,” Cindy insisted.
“That’s the sickness speaking,” said Mattheus, as he took his hands off her shoulders and walked back inside.
*
Cindy could barely sleep all night thinking of what Mattheus had said. Was it true, was her drive to solve the case a sickness, or addiction of some kind? Had she gone overboard? She tossed and turned as Mattheus slept, facing away from her all night long.
As the first light of day broke through the window, Cindy got out of bed, showered, pulled on navy linen slacks and a hand painted summer shirt, and brushed her long hair, hard. Then she looked in the mirror. Who was looking back at her? On the one hand she saw a beautiful young woman, suntanned, hair flowing down over her shoulders, beautifully dressed for the oncoming day. On the other hand, if she looked deeper, she saw someone driven. Had she become a person whose life had been taken over by the pursuit of killers, down here in the Caribbean? Was Mattheus right? Had the hunt for these killers and justice for the victims become more important to her than building a life and relationship of her own? Had finding killers replaced it? Was there any room for her to be with Mattheus in the way he wanted it to be? Cindy stopped for a second a wondered.
She walked back into to the bedroom and looked at Mattheus sleeping for a moment, before she opened the door and went downstairs. Mattheus was a good man and he loved her. She loved him as well, and for a long time they’d loved working together. Cindy wasn’t sure when things changed so deeply and became the way they were now.
Cindy considered waiting for Mattheus to wake up before leaving, but the thought of Carl going alone to confront Clay worried her. If Mattheus wouldn’t go, at least she should. This was a delicate time for all concerned and there was no telling what could take place. It was the right thing to do, it was the only thing to do, she told herself as she stepped out of the door and onto the elevator.
After having a quick breakfast downstairs in the café, Cindy hailed a cab and took it to the spot Clay liked to hang out at. It was early to go, but Cindy wanted to be sure to there before Carl arrived.
The taxi made its way to the Western part of the island then wound up a hill and stopped at a high peak, over the ocean, and Cindy got out. The waters and winds were calmer today, and the air had the wonderful, biting smell of ocean, mixed with the fragrance of flowers, after a storm had passed.
As Cindy walked slowly towards the edge of the peak, to her surprise, she saw Clay there already. Cindy shuddered as she walked closer. Clay was standing on the edge of the peak, tearing papers wildly, and throwing them down into the ocean below.
“Clay,” Cindy called out, despite herself, unsettled by seeing him doing that. She was sorry the moment she called his name, though. She’d wanted to hide in the shadows for a while and watch what else he was up to.
The moment he heard her, Clay spun around and faced Cindy directly.
“You, again!” his face grew tight. “What are you doing here, following me?”
Cindy walked closer to him. “Calm down, Clay, I’m not following you.”
“What are you doing here, then?” he demanded, disturbed by the sight of her.
“I just wanted to talk to you a little,” said Cindy quietly, letting the wind carry her words to him.
“Like hell,” said Clay, grabbing another bunch of papers and ripping them up.
“What are those papers in your hands?” Cindy asked, taking another step quietly.
“What business is it of yours?” Clay shot back, tearing them more intensely.
“I’m your friend, Clay,” Cindy said quietly, trying to win back to his confidence.
At that his eyes opened wide. “My friend? You expect me to believe that?”
“I do,” said Cindy.
“She said that to me, too, in exactly the same voice,” Clay remarked, growing edgy.
“Who said that?” asked Cindy, “Kate?”
“No, not Kate,” Clay threw his head back and looked up into the sky. “April, my high school sweetheart. She said she was my friend, but she wasn’t. She made fun of me behind my back. My mother found out about it finally, and let me know.”
“I’m sorry, that sounds awful,” said Cindy.
“Awful is putting it mildly,” Clay seemed suddenly sad. “My mother warned me that you can’t trust any of them. I kept trying though, I didn’t want to believe her for a long time.”
“Your mother said you couldn’t trust any women?” Cindy was horrified.
“Yes, and she was right,” mumbled Clay.
“That must have been hard to live with that idea,” said Cindy.
“Very,” Clay raised his head and tossed it backwards again, as if scanning the sky for something.
“What are you looking for, Clay?” asked Cindy.
“Traces of love, long left behind,” he murmured. “Where did it go?”
Cindy shuddered again. He seemed disoriented. Was he reciting a poem? Had the loss of Kate unhinged him?
“Are you reciting a poem?” asked Cindy softly.
“A poem I wrote long ago,” said Clay, looking back down at her. “I love my poems, I read them over and over. When I can’t sleep at night, I write new ones.”
“Do you have trouble sleeping at night, Clay?” asked Cindy, curious.
Clay looked at Cindy oddly then. “Most nights I do,” his voice dropped so low she could barely hear him. “Did you know that the night is a dark and dangerous time?”
“I didn’t know that,” said Cindy, coming closer, but afraid to get too near to the edge of the precipice they were standing on.
“My mother told me to be careful at night when I was little, but it took me years to realize it was true,” Clay went on. “Bad things happen at night when you’re sleeping. You always have to be on guard.”
Cindy wanted to ask what happened to Ka
te at night, how the danger happened, but she backed off. It would be too much to confront him just like that. He knew something had happened though. Obviously, he’d blocked it out.
“How do you stay on guard at night, Clay?” Cindy continued.
“I sleep and wake and wake and sleep during the dangerous night,” he practically whimpered, moving closer to her.
How could he have possibly slept through Kate falling from the patio, then? Cindy wondered.
“You hear every little noise in the room when you sleep?” Cindy spoke to him as though he were a child.
“I walk in my sleep all the time,” Clay said, matter of factly. “I have since I was a little boy. I walk and guard my family against danger.”
“You sleepwalk?”
“All the time,” said Clay, looking proud of it.
Cindy gasped. Did Clay harm Kate while walk in his sleep and not even realize it?
“What happens when you walk in your sleep?” Cindy’s voice grew more shaky.
“I don’t know,” said Clay, “I can’t remember. “But I know that it’s dangerous for me to sleep any place but home. Sometimes I do, though.”
Cindy felt the blood rush from her face. “No one knew you were coming to Aruba to sleep over here, did they, Clay?” she asked.
“No one but Kate,” said Clay then, turning to Cindy with an eerie smile. “Kate knew it, she was excited. Kate loved me so much. She was thrilled.”
“And, where did you sleep when you came up to New York to visit Kate?” Cindy asked.
“I slept at a motel nearby. Nothing bad happened then,” said Clay.
Nothing bad happened, it surprised Cindy to hear him say that. At least he was aware that something bad had happened this time.
“Did something bad happen this time, Clay?” Cindy asked pointedly.
“I think it did,” said Clay. “Something happened to Kate. Someone took her away from me,” his hands clenched into fists as he said that.
“Who did it?” Cindy shot out.
“I have no idea,” Clay wailed.
In the flash of a moment Cindy realized that he did know somewhere in the back of his mind. He couldn’t remember though, he was hiding from it. Cindy felt a glimmer of light was about to dawn for both of them.
