Death by Jealousy (Caribbean Murder #6)

“I’ll be back in a little while,” she said simply, not addressing the unanswered question in his eyes. Then she got out of the cab and began to walk slowly along a very narrow, broken, wooden road.

The house at the end of the road looked dark and empty. Cindy wondered if anyone was even there, or if you had to make an appointment to come and get your stash. The closer she got to the place, the more broken down and abandoned it seemed. The air was also moist and dank, filled with little insects flying around. Cindy swatted one or two of them away from her face, as she stepped up to the door. The bell at the side of the door was hanging down, broken, but there was a rusty knocker on the door, still up.

Cindy reached for the knocker and was about to knock, when the door swung open suddenly.

Startled, she gasped.

A heavy, tough, medium size, half bald Jamaican guy, with a scar on his right cheek, stood there, staring at her.

“Carlos Ramanos?” Cindy asked, trying to get her footing.

“What the hell you doing here?” he spoke heavily. He was as surprised to see Cindy as she was to see him.

“Allie sent me,” said Cindy, her voice trembling.

His eyes opened for a second, and then half shut again.

“You crazy, or something, lady?” His face grew dark and his eyes glowered.

“I’ve got to talk to you,” Cindy said then, in a pleading tone. “It’s very, very important.” The urgency in her voice surprised even her.

It must have startled Carlos too, because unexpectedly, he pulled the door open, and let her in.

Cindy walked in and couldn’t catch breath. The room was dirty, dark and smelled of thick, stale beer, rum, and cigarette smoke. Cigarette butts were stashed in cans and scattered on the floor. The windows were closed and at one corner was an old, leather, ripped coach.

“Sit down,” he said, opening his mouth wider, showing big spaces between his teeth.

“Thanks for letting me in,” Cindy said.

He nodded heavily, and despite herself Cindy liked him.

“What the hell do you mean Allie sent you?” he muttered, pulling up a flimsy wooden chair and sitting on it, close to the couch.

Cindy saw that he’d become nervous. Probably because she’d mentioned Allie. She knew the locals could be superstitious, especially about the spirits of the dead.

“I’m here to help Allie,” Cindy spoke more softly, wanting to draw him further in.

“She’s dead,” he blurted out, a little drool coming down the sides of his mouth.

“Maybe she’s not?” Cindy whispered. She wanted to make him suspicious of what had really happened to Allie. Instinctively Cindy knew this guy had all kinds of answers.

Carlos started tapping his foot on the floor in a strange rhythm, as if thinking things over.

“What do you mean, maybe she’s not dead?” His eyes squinted further shut as he spoke.

“Maybe they found someone else’s body dead? Maybe she got up to the surface and escaped?”

Carlos shuddered at the thought of it. “They found her body,” his voice descended into the pit of his stomach. “Police identified it. Case closed.”

“The case isn’t closed,” Cindy whispered tautly, looking around. The place was an incredible mess, old newspapers were lying on the floor, a rusty hotplate was plugged into the wall. “Did Allie come here often?”

To Cindy’s amazement, his eyes seemed to fill with tears.

“She came whenever she visited the Island,” he said. “She was caught in the trap.”

“She needed the stuff badly?” Cindy asked.

“Yeah, she needed it, but so did someone else,” he muttered. “It’s never just one person alone who needs it. In all my years, I can tell you that.”

“Allie was dealing for someone?” Cindy quickly responded.

“Who are you?” Carlos leaned closer to Cindy then. “They got you up front grabbing dope, too?”

“Was Allie was dealing for someone?” Cindy repeated, amazed.

“Who are you?” He stood up, swinging his arms back and forth as if ready to take a shot at someone. Not Cindy though. She felt safe with him.

“I’m a friend of the family,” said Cindy.

“Bullshit,” he answered, stepping closer. “A friend of the family wouldn’t come here alone, sniffing around.” Then he stood back and took a long, slow look at Cindy. “Besides, I know all the friends of the family, by now.”

“They all come down here?” Cindy asked in amazement.

“Not all, just the ones I invite.”

The two of them stopped and stared at each other. Cindy wondered if Carlos had any idea that she was part of law enforcement? There was definitely a strange bond between them. And, he was obviously shaken by Allie’s death. He probably felt that Cindy was also disturbed by it.

Carlos’s phone rang then, and he grabbed it out of his pocket, opened it up and listened.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled. “I know.”

“Alright,” he got harsher and turned back to Cindy then. “Listen, some guys are on their way here to pick up some packages I got ready for them. I don’t know what you want here, but you can’t stay much longer.”