Wynn nodded and caught the waitress’s eye.
“Another Cappuccino,” she ordered. “Want something, Cindy?”
Cindy did not. She wanted information, facts, she wanted to hear something that would alert her to danger and help put the pieces of this puzzle together.
“My father does not have any girlfriend that I know of,” said Wynn, after her next Cappuccino arrived. “Of course anything is possible, but it’s not something I have knowledge of. The truth is I always hoped that he would have someone. I always wanted him to be happy.”
Cindy sighed deeply. She understood. She remembered feeling that same way herself about her own mother and father. It had hurt her to see her father alone, night after night in the living room while her mother went to bed early, or talked endlessly on the phone with friends.
“I guess we all want and need our parents to be happy,” Cindy said softly.
Wynn appreciated that. “We do,” she said.
Cindy saw an opening. “How about Tiffany? Was she really happy about the engagement?” Cindy kept digging.
“I hope so,” Wynn answered, her eyes tearing again. “Everyone thought Tad was a great catch. I hope she felt that way too. In a way Rori was right about her, Tiffany was weak. She always acted like she was happy, but, there were moments I saw her looking strange. She seemed lonely then, desperate, even. How does anyone really know?”
Cindy felt she was getting closer to something, but Wynn suddenly made a hundred and eighty degree turn and diverted the conversation.
“How about you?” asked Wynn. “That’s a horrible story you told us about your husband who died on your honeymoon.”
“Yes, it was,” said Cindy.
“Awful,” said Wynn, “And you deserve to be happy, too.”
“Thank you,” said Cindy.
“Do you think you ever will be?” Wynn asked. “After something so awful happens, can anyone ever be happy again?”
“There are lots of ways of being happy,” said Cindy, tried to answer honestly.
“You know what I mean,” Wynn persisted.
“Do you mean will I ever be happy again with a man?” asked Cindy
“That’s what I was thinking,” said Wynn.
“Who knows? It could happen someday,” said Cindy. “Right now I’m happy doing my job. I loved my husband very much. He was everything I’d always wanted. He was fun, warm, kind, romantic. We were incredibly close, made each other terrifically happy. I felt completely at home in his arms.”
Wynn took a deep breath in. “That’s beautiful.” She looked at Cindy touched that she had opened up. “You were lucky in a way.”
Cindy never thought of herself as lucky regarding Clint before.
“Even if you only had him for a little while, you had a chance to know what real love was like.”
That was true.
“Many people never get that,” said Wynn, “no matter how much else they have.”
Cindy felt warmly towards Wynn and wondered about her love life then.
As if reading her mind, Wynn went on, “I’ve had some great boyfriends, but no one who moved me that way. Nobody I ever felt so safe and at home with.”
“I understand,” said Cindy.
“Yes, I know you do,” Wynn smiled. “It’s good to talk to you, Cindy.”
“I hope you have that special love one day,” Cindy said and meant it.
“Thank you so much,” Wynn responded, moved. Then she smiled, “But, you know, plenty of people decide to get married to someone they don’t really love.”
“Is that what happened with Tiffany?” Cindy pressed forward. She felt something lurking beneath the surface that Wynn was trying to tell her, but could not get out.
Wynn dug into her pocket book then, and threw some bills for the check on the table. Cindy noticed her hand was trembling.
“What happened with Tiffany?” Cindy dug in.
Wynn looked up, tears suddenly streaming down her face.
“Tiffany was having an affair,” Wynn finally breathed.
Cindy was startled. “When she was killed?”
“Yes,” said Wynn, noticeably shaking. “It was with a guy named Frances, who she knew for years. He came down here all the time. He always liked her. She always liked him.”
“Tiffany was sleeping with Frances while she and Tad were together?” Cindy wanted to be sure of what she was hearing.
“Yes,” whispered Wynn. “And it was still going on when she died.”
Wynn was noticeably nervous. She got up suddenly, grabbed her handbag and before Cindy realized what was happening, flew out the door.
“Wait a second Wynn,” Cindy got up and followed after her quickly, walking fast beside her on the street.
“I didn’t want to tell anyone about the affair,” Wynn spoke quickly, “I didn’t want to smear my sister’s name.”
“You didn’t smear her name, you’re trying to help her,” Cindy replied. “Do others know about this too?”
Wynn stopped and stared at her for a second, “No, they don’t. Why would they?”