*
When she awoke early the next morning, Cindy was excited to get going and speak to the police. She dressed in white slacks and a short sleeve, paisley, silk shirt with a light sweater over it. She didn’t have to put on much, makeup either. Already her skin had a lovely glow from being outdoors and in the sun. To look professional, she pulled her long, flowing hair back and tied it at her neck.
After a quick breakfast, she and Dalia got into the car and drove through a narrow road, flanked by fragrant bushes, into town. In less than ten minutes they were at the police station, a small, two story building-- made of white stucco. The day was fresh, clear and beautiful, a perfect day to be in the ocean, swimming, snorkeling, surfing. Not a day, Cindy thought, to be searching for the possible remains of your friend’s husband.
“I’ll introduce you to the police,” said Dalia, “then I’m going back home. They’ll bring you back when you’re ready. ”
“Fine,” said Cindy.
When they walked into the main office of the station, two cops were standing there, waiting.
Dalia walked up to them, quickly. Obviously, she knew them well. Cindy walked close beside her.
“Mattheus, this is Cindy,” Dalia spoke to the cop on the right. He was a good looking guy in his late thirties, sun-tanned, with blue eyes, and dark hair.
Mattheus seemed taken aback when he saw Cindy. He extended his hand.
“Hi,” he said, gruffly.
Then Dalia turned to Cindy. “Cindy, this is Mattheus’s partner, Sand.”
Sand, a local, was probably mid-forties, heavier, with big muscles, narrow eyes and a slight paunch.
Sand didn’t shake Cindy’s hand, just shook his head and laughed. “This is the new detective on the case?”
“This is it,” said Dalia, routinely.
“So, you think a woman’s going find something we didn’t?” Sand went on.
“I just want a fresh eye,” said Dalia. ”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Sand, disparagingly. “We know. The chief of police said to do what you want. Your husband was a big guy on the island, so now the Chief’s pacifying you. ”
Cindy didn’t like Sand, and she could see the feeling was mutual. Clearly, he was threatened by her presence.
Mattheus interrupted. “Okay,” he said, pointing to a chair, “You can sit down here, let’s talk.” His voice had a rough edge.
“I’m going back now,” said Dalia. “When you’re finished, you can drive Cindy back to the villa.” Then, she suddenly turned and left. Cindy sat on the chair Mattheus motioned to. He sat opposite her, tapping his fingers on the desk. Sand sat across from the two of them.
“I’m leaving this to you,” Sand said to Mattheus. “You fill the little lady in.”
Cindy felt her jaw tighten. “I’d appreciate that. I know you’ve gone through everything, but Dalia just wants a fresh eye. ”
Both Sand and Mattheus laughed.
“How fresh, honey?” Sand asked.
“That’s enough, Sand,” Mattheus interrupted. “I’ll take care of this.” Then he turned to Cindy. “So tell us more about you. What’s your background? ”
Cindy took a deep breath. “I was a researcher at a large newspaper in New York, tracking down leads.”
Mattheus listened with interest. He had a rugged, weather-beaten look, as if he’d seen a lot in his day.
“That’s it?” he responded, when Cindy paused.
She nodded.
“She’s an amateur,” Sand snickered.
“I am an amateur,” Cindy promptly agreed. “The only case I’ve solved so far is a death in Barbados. He went surfing and never returned. Everyone said it was an accident. It wasn’t. He was killed. He was my husband. It happened on our honeymoon. ”
Then the both of them got quiet. Apparently they hadn’t heard about it.
“Jesus Christ,” Mattheus said.
“The murderer’s been convicted,” Cindy continued, in a business-like fashion. She wondered if that would qualify her, in their minds, for what she was doing now.
“Good work,” said Mattheus, taken aback. “I’m sorry about it,” he said, softening.
Sand just sat there, shaking his head. “It’s a lousy, rotten, painful world,” he muttered.
“Anyway,” Cindy continued, not wanting sympathy from either of them, “I’m an old friend of Dalia, from high school. She read about what happened to me, and gave me a call. I’m down here to lend a hand. ”
Mattheus stood up abruptly, and walked around. “Want a glass of water?” he said. Something about Cindy and the story apparently touched a nerve.
“No, I’m fine,” she said.
He got himself a glass of water, came back and sat down. “Rotten luck,” he said to her.
“Yes,” said Cindy, professionally, not giving into the sorrow and discomfort she was feeling. “And, what can you tell me about Ames?”
Mattheus grinned, a half grin. It was easy to see that he liked Cindy’s spirit. “You’re all business, eh?” he said.