This place wasn’t so safe for Ann though, thought Cindy. “What about random murder of tourists?” Cindy questioned him quickly.
“Nah,” the driver shook his head. “Doesn’t happen. We’re civilized here. Nothing goes that far.”
Cindy gritted her teeth, glad to be going to a local district, eager to face off with Alain. She suddenly had a flash of how Mattheus had felt when he was on the hunt to find his former wife’s killer. It was personal and a streak of revenge had burned through him the whole time. That streak of revenge burned now through Cindy as well. The feeling was new to her and terrifying. But Cindy was relieved that the police let her know about Alain; at least they were letting her in on the investigation, keeping her informed.
The taxi drove across narrower roads now, through low hanging trees, and around small shanty homes crowded together. Debris was scattered on the streets and through some of the open windows you could hear loud voices and music playing. As they approached Alain’s address, an odd sense of oppression filled Cindy’s heart.
The driver slowed down, looking for the exact number Cindy had given him. He finally stopped in front of a wooden cottage that sloped to the side.
“How long do you plan to be here? Want me to wait for you?” the driver seemed slightly apprehensive.
“I’ll be awhile,” Cindy replied, though she had no sense at all how long it would be, or whether Alain would even be here.
“For an extra fifty bucks I’ll wait nearby. You can call me when you’re done and I’ll be right over.”
It seemed like a good idea to Cindy. She paid the driver, she ordered the return trip.
As Cindy watched the driver pulled away, the low hanging trees overhead rustled. Cindy suddenly felt forlorn. Her visit with her mother had been unnerving, Ann was gone and so was Mattheus. Cindy felt as if she were truly treading the road alone. For a second Cindy thought of how Ann would feel seeing her like this, unprotected, roaming about in places she didn’t belong. Ann wouldn’t like it, she’d tell Cindy to get out of there immediately. Ann never ventured out of familiar territory, she’d created a life of total safety, and look what had happened to her now. The memory of her sister stretched out on the slab shot through Cindy’s heart like an arrow. Try as hard as Ann did to be safe, she couldn’t escape her destiny, though.
Cindy walked to the small door of the house and boldly rang the bell. For a few moments, no one answered. Just as Cindy was going to ring again, she heard footsteps approaching.
“Deidre?” a male voice inside called out. Clearly he was expecting someone.
“It’s Cindy Blaine,” Cindy answered as the footsteps came up close to the door.
The door opened suddenly and a tall, young, attractive, Caribbean man in jeans stood at the door. He looked as surprised as Cindy.
“I’m Cindy Blaine,” Cindy repeated more loudly.
“Who?” He seemed confused. “I was expecting my sister, Deidre.”
“Alain?” Cindy asked.
“Yes, do I know you?” he replied.
“May I come in a few minutes and talk to you?” Cindy tried to smile.
“Sure, come in,” he was cordial and curious. “Who are you? What’s going on?”
Cindy followed him into a small, freshly painted room with slanty windows and a wicker couch.
“Thanks so much,” Cindy murmured, as he pointed to a chair.
“Make yourself comfortable,” he smiled. “Want a drink?”
“No, thanks so much.” Cindy was grateful for his hospitality. He certain didn’t seem to be hiding anything, or feel uneasy about her visit.
“My name is Cindy Blaine,” Cindy repeated, now nervous.
He sat opposite her on an ottoman. “You told me that already, honey,” he answered, “now tell me what you’re doing here?”
“My sister was killed a couple of days ago,” Cindy blurted out, feeling herself flush.
“Dear God,” he replied.
“It happened at the hotel you were working at,” the words tumbled out by themselves. “You know who she was. You brought room service to her.”
His eyes opened wide. “Which room?”
“Her name was Ann, she was here with her husband Frank. Room 323. Do you remember?” asked Cindy nervously.
Alain leaned forward. “That’s a terrible thing that happened to your sister,” he said quietly. “I didn’t hear about it.”
“Horrible,” Cindy agreed. “Please try to remember her!”
“Let me think,” he replied, scanning his memory. “Describe her to me.”
“She was in her early forties, beautiful, gracious,” Cindy started, her eyes quickly smarting with tears.
Alain closed his eyes, seeming to scrutinize his memory. “Yeah, yeah,” he said suddenly, “was she married to a big, heavy set guy?”
“That’s right, she was!” Cindy got excited.
Alain got excited, too. “The guy came down first and then the wife joined him a couple of days later?”