“Mattheus, I need time. I’ve told you over and over again.”
“It’s not what you think,” he repeated roughly.
Something in the tone of his voice jarred Cindy. He didn’t sound like himself.
“What is it?” she said, exasperated.
“They’ve found Shelly’s body,” he could hardly get the words out. “I got a call late last night.”
“What?” An ice chill went through Cindy’s body. “They found your wife’s body?”
“In Key West, Florida, yesterday. She was brutally strangled. There were signs of a struggle. They’ve got all kinds of evidence. The case is being re-opened.”
“Oh my God, Mattheus!” Cindy was in shock. Mattheus had lived for the day they would find his wife’s killer. “They found her in Key West?” Cindy could barely breathe.
“Yeah. Who knew? The last place we expected. No one even looked there.”
Mattheus had gone over the details of the search with Cindy many times. He and his wife had lived in New Orleans and the search had taken place there within a hundred mile radius of their home. In the beginning there were leads and all kinds of theories, but nothing had panned out. It had been hard to get a beat on why someone would have wanted to kill Shelly. Friends all said that she and Mattheus had a wonderful marriage; they were beautiful, smart, fun, and gracious to all they knew.
The possibility of a robbery was quickly discounted, nothing in the home was missing and there was no sign of a break in. All sex offenders living in the area were checked and cleared. Shelly did have one girlfriend from college, Lana, who always hated her, but she was overseas at the time Shelly disappeared.
The cops also looked into Shelly’s family. Her parents lived in Oregon with her retarded brother, Mike. The one strange note that Mattheus couldn’t come to terms with was that Shelly’s parents never came down to help with the search. When asked about it, her father mumbled that he always knew she would come to no good. Mattheus never knew what to make of that. After she went missing, Shelly’s parents didn’t stay in touch with Mattheus. He didn’t know why, but it hurt.
“I’m leaving for Key West later today,” Mattheus’s voice sounded garbled and distraught on the phone. “I can’t do this alone.”
“Of course not,” said Cindy.
“I need you badly,” said Mattheus. “Will you come and help me find the killer?”
“I’ll be on the next plane down,” Cindy said.
*
Key West, the last stop, down at the furthest tip of the gulf stream, was surrounded by beautiful warm waters, palm trees and history going back to the 17th century, when pirate ships came to shore. Now it was bustling and crowded with tourists, conferences, and those who came for vacation to hang out at one of the great bars or cafes.
The airport was small and funky. Cindy changed planes at Miami to a small shuttle which headed down to the Keys. The flight was quick and bumpy. All the way down Cindy kept telling herself that she wouldn’t stay long, just a few days, long enough to offer Mattheus support and help him get back on his feet. Who else could he turn to?
Mattheus’s own parents had both died in a car crash when he was young. His only living relative, his sister Lily, had called every day after Shelly had gone missing, and then came to spend the first month with him. After that, she returned to Alabama. Once Mattheus moved away from Grenada, he barely heard from Lily either.
Cindy had no plans to tell Ann that she was down here now, either. Ann would go crazy, and maybe she was right? It was hard to see certain things clearly when you had a murder to solve. Your priorities shifted in the flash of a second. Things that mattered a lot before suddenly seemed unimportant, little details you would never have noticed quickly took center stage. Your day was organized around them. There was no way she could explain that to her sister.
Cindy got out of the plane, slightly rattled, not only by the ride, but by the idea of seeing Mattheus again so soon. But, after all how could she not go down and be there with him when he had to go through something like this.
A wind had blown up as they were landing and got stronger as she stepped out of the plane. Her skirt ruffled up around her knees and she put her hand over her eyes, to keep the sand from blowing into them.
“Cindy,” she heard Mattheus calling out to her almost immediately after she stepped out of the plane.
He wore old khakis, his hair was messy, and he looked unshaven and disheveled, not crisp and suntanned as usual.
Cindy was amazed at how happy she was to see him. She wanted to throw her arms around him, but he stopped as he got a few feet from her.
“Great of you to come down,” he mumbled, brushing the ground with his foot.
“Mattheus, I’m sorry.” Despite herself Cindy reached out her hands.