“Thank you, thank you.” Cindy was filled with enormous relief.
“There’s no reason to thank me,” he said gruffly. “How could I be anywhere else? I’ll leave for the airport right away. I’ll text you the flight information.”
“Thank you, Mattheus,” Cindy breathed again. “I’ll be there to meet you when you arrive.”
Chapter 7
Cindy hung up the phone and lay down on the lounge chair on the patio. She noticed her entire body was drenched with perspiration. Thank God, Mattheus would be here soon. When they spoke on the phone there hadn’t been even the slightest hint of him pulling away. Every fiber of his body was on the alert, he wanted to get here immediately. Cindy was immensely grateful for his response. He hadn’t mentioned Petra once, or said he wanted to stay there with her. Whatever was going on between them didn’t seem to matter so much. He realized this was a true emergency Cindy was involved in and she needed him here at her side - no question about it.
As Cindy lay outside recouping a bit, her phone rang. Was it Mattheus calling back for more information? She picked up quickly, looking forward to talking to him again.
“Where were you this morning, Cindy?” It was her mother. Her voice sounded troubled and filled with blame.
“What’s up, mom?” Cindy decided not to answer her question or respond to the implicit accusation. Cindy had no intention of stepping into Ann’s shoes, mollifying her mother at every turn.
“I kept calling your room and you didn’t answer,” her mother’s words came quickly.
“I’m working on the case now,” Cindy responded, “there are people to see, things to take care of.”
“So that’s what your sister’s become to you, a case?” her mother sounded appalled.
“Ann is many things to me,” Cindy shot back. “She was murdered, mom. It’s a case, we have to find out who did it, don’t we?”
“We have to probe into the sordid details?” her mother sounded dismayed. “Why? What difference will it make? Will it bring your sister back to us, ever? There are far more important things to do right now.”
“Like what?” Cindy was horrified. What could be more important than finding the killer, prevent others from also possibly falling into harm.
“We have to honor Ann’s memory,” her mother went on undeterred, “and do it in the place she died.”
Cindy never could follow her mother’s train of thought, or understand what was important to her. Why should it be any different now, she thought?
“We have to prepare a memorial service,” her mother went on, “stay close to the family, comfort each other, remember the good times.”
Cindy’s mother was asking her to forget about finding the killer and remember the good times. It was an impossible request for Cindy.
“The best way for me to honor Ann’s memory is to get justice for her,” Cindy responded.
“There is no justice, you can’t get justice!” her mother’s voice grew paper thin.
“Oh yes, I can,” Cindy dug in.
“Even if you find the killer, you’re not getting justice!” her mother’s voice got higher. “There will never be justice. Ann’s life was cut short for no reason.”
“There is a reason,” Cindy said staunchly, “And I’m going to find it.”
“Well, I’m planning a memorial on the beach for the day after tomorrow,” her mother continued. “You can be there, or not.”
Cindy took a deep breath. “Of course I’ll be there,” she said quietly. Her mother was suffering, Cindy had to do something to help her as well.
“But you won’t help me plan the memorial, will you?” her mother was outraged. But whatever Cindy did or didn’t do, her mother was outraged. It had been that way since she was a little girl. They occupied two different universes.
“I’m not helping you plan a memorial right now,” Cindy held her ground. “I have other things to focus on.”
“Then, at least tell Frank to get to my room,” her mother demanded. “I know he’ll want to have a say in it. I know he’ll be happy we’re doing it.”
It suddenly struck Cindy that the bail hearing should be over by now. She could most likely get Frank released right away and bring him to her mother.
“That I can do for you,” said Cindy quickly, sitting upright on the lounge. “I’ll go get Frank and bring him to you as soon as possible.”
“Fine,” her mother seemed mollified. “Do it this minute, if you can.”
*
Thankfully, bail had been granted. When Cindy called Trage he told her she could come and take Frank back with her now. He and his possessions were being placed in her custody. Cindy agreed, grabbed a cold glass of water, washed her face quickly, brushed her hair and ran downstairs to get to the jail and bring Frank back.
When Cindy arrived Trage was waiting for her. “Good to see you, Cindy,” he reached out his hand. “Frank’s ready to go.”
“Thanks so very much for this,” Cindy breathed.