“I’ve only been gone a few hours,” she said. “I told you where I was going before I left this morning.”
“It’s been more than a few hours,” Mattheus responded. “It’s almost the middle of the afternoon.”
Cindy looked at him oddly. “Do I have to check in every hour?”
“Okay,” he said, putting his hand on her arm, reassuringly. “Sounds like we have to talk.”
Cindy shrugged. She liked it that Mattheus picked up on clues immediately when things weren’t quite right between them.
“I did something to offend you,” he said. “It’s written all over your face.”
Cindy smiled.
“Want to tell me what I did?” He smiled too. “How about getting a quick drink at the bar so you can fill me in.”
Clearly, Mattheus knew his way around women, read them like a book. He always knew how to make Cindy smile at her own foolishness. She liked it.
“Sure,” said Cindy as they walked to the bar, suddenly feeling needed.
They took a quick seat at the bar, ordered rum and coke and relaxed a moment.
“Was last night useful?” asked Cindy.
“Ahh, that’s it,” Mattheus said. “I didn’t take you to the party with me. It got you thinking,” he laughed.
“You didn’t come down for breakfast,” Cindy corrected him. “I was just curious about what you found out.”
“You were curious if I spent the night with one of the dames who accosted me at the party?”
Cindy laughed.
“You’re right there, they accosted me, but I didn’t spend an extra second with any of them.”
“That’s not the point,” said Cindy. “You absolutely have the right to spend time with anyone you like.”
“In the middle of a murder investigation?” Mattheus asked.
“Time off is your time.”
“Cindy,” Mattheus said, “that’s crazy. I’m here for a purpose and so are you. Do you think I’d let my head get spun around by gorgeous women, scantily dressed?”
“Of course you would,” said Cindy.
“A spinning head is one thing,” said Mattheus. “Doing something about it is another.”
“True,” said Cindy.
“Would you allow yourself that?” Mattheus asked.
His question took her off guard. “No, of course not,” she said.
“So, why should I be different?”
Cindy looked over at him with renewed admiration. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“It’s okay, it’s natural,” he said. “And, actually, I’m flattered that you cared. Flattered and touched.
Cindy blushed. This wasn’t a conversation she was comfortable having.
“What about you?” he said, taking her off the hook quickly. “How did it go today?”
““I have important news.” said Cindy. “I was actually going to tell you the second I got back.” “What?”
“Tiffany was having an affair with a guy named Frances, when she was killed.”
“Are you kidding me?” Mattheus’ jaw fell open.
“I know, it’s shocking.”
“It’s a game changer,” he said, his voice growing urgent. “Who’s the guy?”
“Someone she’s known a long time. He’s down on the island now, was actually at the engagement party.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“Her older sister Wynn told me about it. She’s the most dependable of them all, solid and clear. She felt that Tiffany really loved him.”
“Whew.” Clearly Mattheus was taken aback. “Did Tad have any idea what was going on?” Mattheus slowly absorbed the information.
“Wynn is convinced that no one knew a thing, especially Tad.”
“She’s convinced, but I’m not. Okay, so, what are we doing sitting here? Let’s get over to talk to Frances, this second.”
*
Frances’s family’s home was high up on a hill, at the foot of a craggy mountain. When Cindy called his voice was a bit slurred, but he said they could come right over. The moment Cindy and Mattheus ran the front door bell, he came down himself to let them in.
Frances was about Tiffany’s age, good looking, with dark hair, suntanned, with a small, scar on his face. He stood there, a little disheveled but rugged looking, dressed in shorts, a ripped T shirt and a bottle of beer in his hand.
“Come on in,” he said, high strung and discombobulated.
The house was big and messy, with fieldstone floors, magazines strewn around, furniture placed at odd angles and too many plants lined up near the windows.
“No one’s home right now,” he said. “Parents are out on their boat with friends.”
“When are they coming back?” asked Cindy.
“Who the hell knows? Beats me. They go out for days at a time,” said Frances.
Cindy wondered if he was drunk or high on something. She and Mattheus walked in, cleared a space on the sofa and sat down.
“I guess you’re interviewing all of Tiffany’s friends?” Frances asked as he sat on a stool close by.
“Not all of them,” Mattheus said. “We picked you for a reason.”
Frances rubbed his hands on his knees quickly. “Oh yeah, what?”