Death by Divorce (Caribbean Murder #2)
Jaden Skye
CHAPTER 1
Cindy knew it wouldn’t be easy as she boarded the early morning flight to Grenada, leaving from JFK Airport in New York. The plane was half empty, and the airline stewardess looked tired and distracted as she showed Cindy to her seat.
Everyone at home had told her that she was crazy to go back down to the Caribbean again so soon, like this. And to Grenada, of all places. Why? Was it even safe?
“Wasn’t there an invasion in Grenada, not so long ago?” her sister Ann had asked. “I don’t have a good feeling. Didn’t a hurricane also wipe out that island? Anything could happen down there.”
“It’s perfectly safe,” Cindy said, trying to soothe her sister. “The invasion was in the 80’s,” Cindy had said. “Everything’s fine now, and the country was rebuilt after the hurricane.”
Ann had been near tears. “Cindy, this isn’t a wise decision. I don’t know why you made it. But it’s time for you to settle down. I don’t know if your life will ever be the same, since Clint’s death.”
As Cindy put her carry-on bag in the overhead compartment, she wondered about what Ann had said. Would her life ever be the same? Probably not. Why should it? Life came and brought incredible surprises that changed us all. It couldn’t be avoided. How could she ever be the same person again?
She took a seat near the window, waiting for the plane to take off and thought more about their conversation. “Dalia told me that Grenada is a hidden gem among the islands,” Cindy had said. “And I’m going down there for a purpose. It’s not exactly a pleasure trip.”
“You’re going down on an impulse,” Ann had cut her off, “A worthy impulse, but a dangerous one.”
Cindy hated it when Ann started preaching at her.
“Look, Cindy, it was incredible the way you solved Clint’s murder. It was all over the news. It’s understandable that people will call you about it and want your help in their lives, but--.”
“It’s not just people,” Cindy’d interrupted. “Dalia was one of my best friends in high school. You knew her, Ann.”
“I remember her well. But it’s strange that she called you now. You both lost track of each other over the years.”
“So what? Her husband is missing, too. The police have come up with nothing, and time is passing. She’s going nuts. I can relate.”
“It’s horrible that her husband is missing, but you’re not a detective, Cindy!”
Cindy refused to be deflected. “I have a good nose, Ann. A second sense. I’m good with people. I can sniff things out. She needs me. I want to help.”
“You’ve just been through hell,” Ann continued, “are you thinking straight? It would be understandable to be a little crazy after the hell you’ve gone through. “
Cindy refused to take that in. Maybe she’d allowed people to say things like that in the past, but not anymore. Those days were done. She’d proved herself to everyone.
“No one can call me crazy any longer, Ann. Cut it out.”
“Okay, but just because you found Clint’s murderer, doesn’t mean you know how to find a missing person. And down in Grenada, no less!”
Cindy’d turned a deaf ear. She thought of her old friend Dalia, and could only imagine the nightmare she was going through. There was no way Cindy could sit by and not respond. Every bone in her body had told her to go.
Dalia’s call for help had brought the memory of Clint right back to mind. Cindy remembered the frantic pain of running up and down the beach in Barbados, when he didn’t return from surfing, looking for him, calling his name over and over, and hearing nothing in return. She remembered the horrible feeling of emptiness that had gripped her then and wouldn’t let go. It still returned these days, when she least expected it.
Cindy realized that late spring wasn’t the best time of year to go down to Grenada. It was the rainy season. But that was all the more reason to get down quickly and find what she could --before storms would come and wash evidence away.
“Get ready for takeoff,” the stewardess spoke. “Buckle your seatbelt. ”