Death by Devotion (Caribbean Murder #9)

“You might not ever have to, though,” Ann went on, hopeful. “For all you know you might meet a wonderful guy and settle up here. The two of you might have children. You’ve always wanted children. I always thought you’d be a wonderful mother, Cindy.”


Tears filled Cindy’s eyes. She’d always thought so too. She remembered how she and Mattheus had been recently talking about having a family, how wonderful that had felt, how

badly she’d wanted to have a child with him. She’d also dreamt of having a family with Clint. Neither had worked out. She couldn’t go through this again.

Cindy looked straight into Ann’s eyes then. She could see that Ann only wanted the very best for Cindy, and to have her dear sister close.

“Of course it’s true, Ann, anything can happen,” Cindy said, wanting to ease her sister’s feelings. “Who knows who I could meet?”

Ann snapped that right up. “You could be happy here Cindy, finally settle down. Then you might not be so addicted to living in the Caribbean and putting yourself into danger over and over solving horrible crimes.”

“It’s not an addiction,” Cindy protested.

“What is it then?” Ann was insistent.

“I’m needed there,” Cindy responded. “I know the terrain, and the ways people operate. It’s complicated, a tangled web. On the surface it looks beautiful, but you can’t imagine what goes on underneath, on winding streets and in hidden corners. It can be truly dark and dangerous. People get killed and no one cares.”

Ann wouldn’t have any of it, though. “That’s not why you stay down there,” she was exasperated. “You stay in the Caribbean to re-live what happened with Clint. You feel responsible for it and want make it right, again and again. You feel it’s up to you to bring all killers to justice. It doesn’t make sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” said Cindy. “I am responsible for justice, so are you and everyone else.”

“But I don’t spend my time hunting down killers,” said Ann. “I live a normal life and do what I can to help when a situation presents itself. You actively go hunting.”

“And I like doing it!” said Cindy, feeling a rush of pride, thinking of the exquisite triumph of the moment when the true culprit in a case was revealed and taken into custody. There was nothing like it. It was as though the world, which had been out of kilter, was suddenly set straight again. Someone wrongly accused, was often set free. The pain of a family eased, fear dissipated. It was like watching the sun come out after a horrible storm. If Cindy was addicted, it was to that moment, to feeling she’d set things right in the world once again. “I like it, Ann, I really do,” she insisted.

Ann let out a long, troubled sigh. “Cindy, in your mind you’re getting revenge on Clint’s killer again and again. I’m telling you, it’s an addiction.”

“That minimizes what I do. It offends me,” Cindy protested. “Someone has to step forward and bring justice.”

Cindy jumped up off the edge of the bed then and started walking around the room, to release the tension that was forming. As she moved about her eyes fell upon the small, bible that Pastor Mallord have given her when Clint died. It was still there, where she had left it.

Cindy paused, went over and picked the bible up. It was comforting to hold it. She opened the pages randomly, and her eyes fell upon the following words:

What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?

“Look at this, Ann,” Cindy started reading aloud, “look what is required of me -.”

Ann jumped up from the edge of the bed then, as well. “Please, Cindy, stop it,” she begged. “I understand you want to do good. I appreciate that, really. But, please just go for this interview tomorrow. All it is is an interview. Give it a try.”

Cindy saw how upset she was making her sister. She put the Bible down.

“Alright,” she relented. “Don’t worry about me, Ann, please. I’ll go for the interview, I’ll talk to the guy.”

“You’d be a fool not to go,” said Ann, “there’s lots of ways of bringing justice. You could do more to help with a column, for all you know.”

*

Before Cindy went to bed that night, she sat on her bed and thumbed through the pages of the Bible. It was good to be here and difficult, too. She couldn’t stop thinking of Mattheus and what he was going through. During this time they’d become real partners, always covering for each other, seeing something the other overlooked, guarding each other from danger. Of course there was no danger Mattheus was up against now, just an emotional reunion with a long lost child that he’d abandoned years ago and wanted to make things right with now. There was something noble about that, Cindy mused, as her eyes grew heavy with sleep. Even though his departure had hurt terribly, there was something about it that she could respect.

Enough, she finally said to herself as she closed her eyes, lay down, turned out the lights, and wondered why she was really here and what the next day would bring.





Chapter 4