Death by Devotion (Caribbean Murder #9)

“Honey, I’m here.” The terrain was so rocky, Mattheus got down on his knees and crawled to where she was laying. He wanted to put his arms on her shoulders to comfort her, but didn’t want to scare her. “I’m here,” he repeated softly.

“Too little, too late,” she muttered and slowly raised her head, looking at him out of the corner of her eyes.

“What’s going on here? Tell me,” Mattheus begged her.

Andrea gathered herself together and sat up. “What do you think, we got a bed of roses to live in?”

“I don’t know what to think,” Mattheus said. “But I came down to find out and help you. You’ve got to tell me.”

“Cain’s an ex con,” Andrea started.

“You told me that already. “He’s your stepfather?” Mattheus wanted to be sure he got the details straight.

“He beats us regularly,” Andrea breathed.

“Beats us?” Mattheus wanted to be certain he heard right.

“Me and my mother,” Andrea mumbled, “it’s his favorite past time.” Then she pulled up the sleeves of her shirt and showed Mattheus the marks all over her arm. In the moonlight they looked eerie, as if strong arms had grabbed her from behind and pummeled her, leaving dark, ugly bruises all over her skin.

“My God, have you told the police?” Mattheus breathed, horrified.

“Don’t make me laugh,” said Andrea. “You think they care about guys who beat women down here? It happens all the time.”

Mattheus’s head swirled as he pulled his daughter to him. He took her arms into his hands and looked at the bruises more closely.

“There have got to be laws,” Mattheus insisted.

“Give me a break,” Andrea looked at him as if he were a fool. “There’s nothing we can do. Mom’s been through this before and so have I. I grew up all my life watching her husband’s give her a thrashing. When I let them beat me too, she doesn’t get it so bad.”

Mattheus pulled his daughter to him. “This can’t go on,” he exclaimed. “I won’t allow it.”

Andrea seemed fascinated. “And just what are you going to do?”

“There’s a lot we can do, and we have to,” Mattheus started thinking quickly. “One day this guy could really hurt you. We can’t let it go on.”

“You’re living in dreamland,” Andrea answered, sounding strangely like her mother for a second. “This is how local guys treat women down here. It would take a miracle to stop him.”

“We don’t need a miracle. There are other ways,” Mattheus murmured.

Andrea sat up straighter then. “Oh yeah? Like what? Give me a hint,” she said, oddly excited. “Don’t think I haven’t thought about it myself, over and over.”

Mattheus fell strangely quiet then, thinking about what could be done, as a large bird swept closely overhead, howling into the dark night.





Chapter 5


Even though it was a frosty morning, Cindy and Ann bundled up with scarves and warm jackets and walked along the water at the local beach. It was fun to be here with Ann, feeling the wind on her face, moving briskly. The past few days had been jammed pack and Cindy had enjoyed the activity. As Ann had predicted, the interview at the newspaper was interesting and stimulating. Cindy liked everyone she met there and they were definitely impressed with her. They were offering her a tremendous opportunity to write her own column on crime, track down the people who made a difference and cases that needed attention. It actually sounded so interesting that Cindy had a hard time not just taking it on.

“I just need a few days to think it over,” Cindy had told Al’s friend Hal.

“Sure, you can have a few days,” Hal agreed, “but we want to get going on this as soon as possible. Any questions you have?”

Cindy had asked a few more questions and he answered them fully. She told him she’d get back to him in a couple of days and he seemed satisfied with that.

Ann stopped walking and grabbed Cindy’s hands, “So, let me know,” she finally said, “what are you going to do about the paper? The suspense is terrible. Are you taking the job?”

Cindy laughed at the abrupt way that Ann broached the topic.

“Probably,” Cindy quipped.

“Probably?” Ann’s eyebrows rose. “Well, that’s better than definitely not. I was hoping for a Yes, I’m thrilled.”

Cindy laughed. “Well, I am thrilled to be back here right now. Everything’s about it is great, except for Clint’s family.”

“Forget about Clint’s family,” Ann’s face clenched. “I’m truly sorry I set up the meeting between you and Marge. I’m truly sorry I let her into the house.”

“It’s okay, Ann, it’s not your fault,” Cindy quickly countered. “You meant the best.”

“I did,” said Ann, uneasy.

“You had no way of knowing she was playing you, too. But I warned you about it,” Cindy commented.

“Yes, you did,” Ann said somberly, “and I’m sorry, I really am.”