“The case is over, Cindy,” Mattheus repeated somberly. “I hope you realize that.”
“I realize it,” she said, getting edgy. “But it has to be over inside me as well. I don’t want to carry this around like a stone on my heart.”
“Oh boy,” Mattheus said.
“Look, I’ll see you here in about an hour,” said Cindy then. “We’ll have plenty of time before we catch the plane back to the states.” Then she hung up quickly.
Tad waited patiently a few steps away while Cindy was on the phone. As soon as she hung up, he came closer and smiled.
“I’m so glad you’re coming over for a little while,” he said graciously. “It’s strange to think that soon you and Mattheus will be gone.”
It was strange for Cindy to think that as well, harder to leave than she’d realized. She had a gnawing feeling that she and Mattheus were much closer to finding the killer than they realized. Maybe something in Tad’s scrapbook would shed light on it. Miracles like that, happened, Cindy thought. Why not to me?
She got into Tad’s car, a small Volkswagen, and they took off for his place.
“Are your parents home?” Cindy asked lightly as they drove down a sloping road. “Do they know I’m coming?”
“Actually, they’re out sailing today,” Tad answered lightly.
“Your sister too?”
Tad grimaced. “I think she’s gone with them. She almost never does, but today she decided to.”
Tad sped up and before Cindy knew it, they arrived at his home.
They walked inside, and as before, Cindy was struck by how cold and angular the place was, empty like a museum that had not as yet been filled.
“Come with me,” Tad said, taking Cindy down the hall into a different room she hadn’t seen before. It was smaller and darker, lined with books from ceiling to floor.
The study?” asked Cindy.
“Right,” said Tad. “This is where my father and I sit and ponder the meaning of life,” he chuckled. “The right side of the room has my father’s books, the left side, mine.”
Cindy was taken aback. “I didn’t know you were so close to your father,” she said. “Actually, I had the impression that –.”
“He couldn’t stand me?” Tad interrupted.
Cindy hadn’t meant to say that exactly. But, perhaps Tad wanted to speak freely now that she was about to leave.
“My father never could stand me,” Tad repeated swiftly. “And it wasn’t a secret to anyone. There was something wrong with everything I ever did, including choosing Tiffany.”
“That’s not what your father told us,” Cindy said.
“My father lied, acted. He was very slick, very good at that. The truth is he hated Tiffany’s guts.”
“That’s a strong way to put it.” Cindy began to feel cooler, listening to him.
“In fact, “Tad’s face began to flush, “my father thought Tiffany was a rotten person.”
Cindy gasped. “That’s terrible.”
“Yes, it was. He said it to me, over and over. And what was worse was that I didn’t believe him.” Tad’s face grew contorted.
“What are you talking about?” Cindy was growing nervous.
“You know what I’m talking about,” Tad said to her in a hoarse whisper, then. “They found you beaten up a few feet away from the pusher’s house, didn’t they?”
“Yes, they did,” said Cindy slowly, not knowing what was coming next.
Tad came closer. “So in the end, you and I found out the same thing.”
“What?” Cindy was having a hard time speaking.
“That Tiffany was a drug addict,” Tad spoke without blinking an eye, watching Cindy’s every reaction.
Her face turned stone cold. “That doesn’t make her a rotten person, “Cindy finally said.
“That’s what I said, too, in the beginning,” said Tad. “My dad kept trying to convince me, but I thought he was just trying to spoil my happiness, like he always did. But you have no idea what my father is capable of.”
“Like killing Tiffany?” Cindy shivered.
“Could be,” Tad smiled strangely. “But who would believe me?”
Was Tad trying to pin the murder on his father, Cindy wondered suddenly.
“I’d like to see the scrapbook,” she said.
“I’m going to show it to you,” said Tad, “but what good will it do if you find out about her? You’re leaving the island in a little while, anyway.”
“Tad,” Cindy suddenly cried out, “what is it you’re trying to tell me?”
“Will you stay on the island if I tell you the truth? Will you lock up my father?”
Cindy suddenly had trouble breathing. She was still weaker than she’d realized. She didn’t know how she could promise him something like that.
“I’ll certainly tell Mattheus,” she started. “We’ll do what we can.”
“Will you stay?” Tad’s eyes started gleaming. “My father doesn’t deserve to walk around alive while Tiffany is dead, strangled and stabbed.”
Cindy took a deep, swift breath. The fact that Tiffany had been strangled hadn’t been made public. Only very few people knew it.
“How do you know she was strangled?” Cindy confronted him.