Mattheus drew back. “Once I was,” said Mattheus. “At a different time.”
“Anyone in the picture now? Roomey asked, interested.
“No,” said Mattheus, “no one,” as the muscle under his left eye started to twitch.
CHAPTER 6
Cindy slipped into a fitted black, sleeveless dress, brushed her hair loose over her shoulders, grabbed a small, sparkly, evening bag, and went to the bar that Paul hung out at after work. It was downtown, on a wide street lined with clubs, bars and topless night spots. The front entrance of the bar was hidden by a long purple awning, covered with shining lights. There were pots of flowers outside, and you could hear the music of a live jazz band playing inside.
When she walked in, people were speaking freely to each other, drinking, laughing. Cindy saw some guys at the bar look up at her admiringly. It would take about three minutes, Cindy figured, to get a date for dinner and beyond.
Cindy thought about Mattheus for a moment and smiled. She wondered what he was doing in the casino, if he was getting useful tips. She also wondered how he would react seeing her here now. There was a kind of freedom she felt with him away, but he was also on her mind.
Cindy went to the bar, took an empty seat, and ordered a rum and coke. The bartender was a local, in his mid-forties, with warm eyes and a welcoming smile. Probably a good person to start talking to, Cindy thought, especially as this was one of Paul’s regular haunts.
“Did you happen to know Paul Robbins?” Cindy started lightly.
The bartender stopped and frowned. “Of course. Who didn’t know Paul?” He stared at Cindy. “Why do you ask?”
A woman sitting next to Cindy, with long, flowing chestnut brown hair, a low cut dress, and bright, red lipstick, overheard and broke in. “You looking for Paul Robbins?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Cindy.
“Well, it’s too late, honey,” the woman went on.
“That’s a hell of a way to talk about my friend,” the bartender interrupted, offended.
The woman shrugged, “What did I say? Just that it’s too late.”
“What would Paul do if he heard you?” the bartender’s eyes were flashing. “Is that how he deserves to be talked about?”
“He can’t hear anything anymore,” she said and turned on her barstool to Cindy. “He’s gone.”
“I realize,” said Cindy.
“You realize?” The bartender looked really perturbed.
“I came down to the island to help with the case,” Cindy said softly. She liked the bartender and wanted help anyway she could get it.
“Who are you?” the woman asked. Apparently she’d taken a liking to Cindy.
“Cindy Blaine,” Cindy said,
“A cop?” the woman’s eyes opened wide.
“Private detective,” said Cindy.
“Working for who?” the bartender was riveted.
“Kendra Robbins,” said Cindy.
“Whew, that’s a new development,” the bartender seemed relieved. “Forget about paying for the drink. It’s on the house.”
Cindy was surprised. “No need for it.”
“Listen, anyone that’s helping out Paul is a friend of mine,” he said. “His wife needs a hand, too.”
The woman besides Cindy didn’t seem to agree. “We women get what we deserve,” she said under her breath.
“Kendra deserved this?” Cindy asked her, amazed.
The woman grabbed her drink and poured what was left of it down her throat. “I’m not saying Kendra in particular, I’m just saying a woman gets what she’s willing to fight for.”
Cindy was fascinated.
“Don’t pay any attention to her,” said the bartender. “She’s had too much to drink – she rails against everything.”
The woman next to Cindy put her glass down and asked for another. The bartender left to get it and she turned to Cindy.
“I had to ask for another to get rid of him. He’s a terrific pain when he wants to be. Thinks he runs the island. Well he doesn’t, the only thing he runs is this bar. Paul was a big tipper, took good care of him. Paul’s wife never came here though. The bartender never met her once.”
“You knew Paul’s wife well?” Cindy asked her.
“Not at all,” said the woman, straightening out her skirt. “I knew Paul, though. He hung out here almost every night after work. Except when he was out of town.” She looked at Cindy knowingly.
“Playing around?” said Cindy.
“I didn’t say it, you did,” said the woman.
“He came on to you?” Cindy wanted more.
“Never me. Never anyone I knew, either. Whenever I saw him he was just chatting it up with the girls. Paul loved to chat up the ladies and the guys as well. He needed attention. Tons of it. If you asked me, I could see this coming. He was a slippery kind of guy.”
“How?”