Death by Betrayal (Caribbean Murder #10)

Cindy ran over to him and threw her arms around him. “Thank you, thank you for coming to tell me.”


“You’re a brave woman, Cindy, you can find out the truth,” he went on.

“Does my mother know you’re here?” Cindy asked haltingly.

“No, she doesn’t know I’m here,” Charlie answered, “and she doesn’t know where Frank is either.”

Cindy was stunned and relieved to hear that at least.

“Your Uncle Ben knew all the time though, and he finally told me,” Charlie continued. “I figured it would be better off for everybody if I told you.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Cindy murmured. “You’re right, so right. I’ll go see him immediately.”

“I’ll go with you if you want me to,” Charlie offered.

Cindy would have loved that, but it wouldn’t work. Frank was going to feel exposed enough as it was when he saw Cindy. She’d have to do it alone.

“Where is he?” Cindy asked, breathless.

“In a small boarding house on the edge of the Island,” Charlie replied. “He wanted to get away from everyone.”

“Give me the address,” said Cindy trembling.

Charlie handed her a piece of paper that was half wrinkled, half smooth. “I’m sorry to put you through this, Cindy,” he murmured.

“No, just the opposite,” she said, grabbing the paper tight in her hand. “You’ve given me a way to do what has to be done carefully. You’ve made it easier for everyone. Don’t breathe a word of this though. Keep it secret. I’m going right now, on my own.”

Charlie flushed a little and shook his head. “Anything I can ever do to help, I’m right nearby.”





Chapter 19


Cindy flew downstairs without a moment’s hesitation, grabbed a cab and headed down to the edge of the Island where Frank was holed up. She’d be the last one he’d expect to see and Cindy knew she had to approach him carefully.

The trip took awhile and Cindy was grateful for that. It gave her time to compose herself and her thoughts. Her interview with Ronnelle had disturbed her. At first it was the opposite of what Cindy expected, she liked Ronnelle and believed her completely. Then when she’d learned that Ronnelle was from Wisconsin, a sense of dread filled Cindy’s bones. Could Ronnelle be a charming psychopath who lied naturally with great ease?

The taxi left the main road and went down through narrow streets, and across vacant fields.

Finally, it arrived at a juncture, turned left, climbed a hill and then found a street of small houses packed close together. Most of them had little porches in the front. A large Wisteria tree stood in front of one of the houses and Cindy immediately knew that was where Frank was hiding.

“That’s the one,” she pointed to the taxi driver without even looking at the address.

“Okay,” he said, pulling up in front of it.

Cindy checked the address and she was right on. “Thanks,” she said giving him the fee plus a good tip and then watching him drive away. Cindy stood there alone for a few moments before going up the front steps of the house and knocking on the door.

“Come in, it’s open,” a voice called from inside.

Cindy pushed the creaky door open and walked into the small, dark place.

“Be with you in a minute,” the voice kept calling. “Just take a seat and wait.”

“I’m here to see Frank,” Cindy called back then.

“Who?” a tall, Caribbean man walked into the room there, looking carefully at her.

“I’m Frank’s sister in law,” said Cindy quickly.

“Oh I see,” the man felt better to hear that. “He’s resting in the hammock in the back, like usual,” he said to Cindy. “Come say hello.”

Cindy was grateful for his sweetness and trust in her as she followed him to the back garden.

“Frank, man, you got company,” the guy said in a lilting tone.

Frank, who was indeed resting in the hammock, opened his eyes quickly and then jumped up and crouched like a frightened animal.

“What in hell are you doing here?” he exclaimed.

“It’s okay, Frank,” Cindy said softly, drawing closer. Then she turned to the Caribbean guy. “We need to be alone for a little while,” she remarked.

“Sure thing,” he answered, turning to leave. “See you both later on.”

“What are you doing here? What?” Frank looked flushed and belligerent.

“I’m on your side, Frank,” Cindy softly replied.

“Like hell you are. You’re working with the cops,” he shot back.

“I know you didn’t do it, Frank,” Cindy replied.

At that he stopped dead on in his tracks. “How do you know that?”

“I just do,” said Cindy. “I’ve known you all my life.”

His head hung down then.

“But you got to help me,” she went on. “You’ve got to trust me.”

“But I don’t,” he mumbled.

“You have no other choice,” Cindy’s voice got louder. “The police are looking for you.”

He trembled at that. “They know where I am?”