Death by Betrayal (Caribbean Murder #10)

“Your mother called,” Mattheus said as they walked down into a valley filled with dazzling wildflowers. “She’s wants us to have dinner with her tonight.

“Oh God,” said Cindy.

“I didn’t think you’d want to,” Mattheus continued. “I told her we might have other plans.”

“She didn’t take that well, did she?” asked Cindy.

“She was quiet,” Mattheus replied, “a bit distant. Doesn’t like me much, that’s for sure.”

“My mother never liked anyone I cared for,” Cindy answered quickly. “Don’t take it personally, Mattheus, it’s an automatic reaction on her part. Before she even meets a person I’m close to, her mind’s made up.”

“That’s rough,” said Mattheus .

“How is she doing?” asked Cindy, concerned about her mother, nevertheless.

“I would say surprisingly well,” Mattheus replied. “She told me she’s waiting for the medical examiner’s report, and then plans to take your sister with her home.”

“None of it has hit her yet,” said Cindy, forlorn.

“It never hits right away,” said Mattheus. “Can take years, actually.”

Cindy nodded in agreement, wondering how much of this she, herself, had absorbed. So much of the time she felt as if it she were in a dream.

“Lots of things can take years to realize,” said Mattheus, “like how much a person means to you, how much you love them.”

Cindy looked up at him swiftly. His eyes were totally fixed upon her, filled with great devotion.

“I don’t want to impose anything on you at a time like this,” Mattheus said softly, “but I’ve realized a lot more than you’d imagine.”

“About me?” asked Cindy.

“About us,” Mattheus replied.

Cindy closed her eyes slowly. She knew what he wanted to say, felt it in every bone of her body. It was good to know he loved her so, but he was right, this was not the time to speak of it. Not while Ann wasn’t even buried.

“Soon we’ll talk about it,” Cindy replied lovingly in return. “Not quite now, not yet.”

“Of course, of course, I understand,” said Mattheus.

As they walked across the valley they came to a little hill, and a bench that stood on top of it. From the top of the hill you could look down over the water and see lots of activity in the harbor.

“What’s going on?” asked Cindy, watching the flurry below.

“It’s almost time for Newport Bermuda Race from the United States to Bermuda,” he said. “It usually takes three to six days, via the Gulf Stream.”

Cindy was surprised Mattheus knew so much about it.

“Actually, I always wanted to be here for it, myself,” Mattheus went on, watching the activity below, excitedly. “Each year, more than a hundred and fifty boats participate. It’s a great time for everyone - people bring picnics while they cheer on the racers as they cross the finish line at St. David’s Lighthouse.”

“Ann would have enjoyed that,” murmured Cindy, remembering how much Ann had loved sporting events and races of all kinds.

“When the boats get about twenty miles from shore, the crews can see Bermuda emerge from the Atlantic,” Mattheus went on. “It must be a thrilling moment.”

Suddenly, feeling a bit dizzy, Cindy leaned on the bench. It was too much to hear about races and celebrations going on. She had come to Bermuda for a reason and wanted to stick to it.

“I feel funny, Mattheus,” Cindy suddenly said in a small voice.

“Come on, let’s sit down,” said Mattheus, immediately steadying her.

Grateful, Cindy sat down. “Let’s de-brief about the case,” she said then. “I want to stay on focus. I’m not here to celebrate, I’m here for Ann.”

“I completely understand,” said Mattheus. “Let me start. I’ve been investigating the murders at the hotel and it definitely seems like all the women who were killed were involved with big hedge fund guys on the island.”

Cindy nodded, “I know.”

“You knew that?” Mattheus asked surprised.

“Evan Price mentioned it at our lunch,” Cindy replied. “He also told me that each of the victims was poisoned.

“My God,” said Mattheus, “I hadn’t heard that.”

“A grim detail, but important,” Cindy continued.

“Absolutely,” Mattheus agreed. “The police must have buried it.”

“Ann wasn’t killed that way though,” Cindy went on. “And the guys the victims were involved with weren’t a part of Price’s hedge fund, either, did you know that?”

“I did,” said Mattheus. “Price has the biggest hedge fund, but there are others here, too.”

“Seems like we got the same information at the same time,” said Cindy.

Mattheus smiled. “There’s no question but that the hotel murders are connected to another hedge fund. One of the guys in that fund even disappeared himself.”

Cindy was shocked to hear that. “It’s terrible, it’s awful,” she said suddenly, “but what has it got to do with Ann’s death?”