Death by Marriage (Caribbean Murder #3)

“Did you love your husband?” Cindy asked. “Or was it over a long time ago?”


“Go to hell,” Kendra muttered. “You think I’m paying you for this?”

“Paul led a double life. You had to sense something. He couldn’t have been there much for you. How could you not hate him?”

Kendra’s face flushed, then turned ashen. “It’s a complicated,” she finally said. “Did I love him? Depends what you mean when you say love. And hate, that’s a strong word. You have to care a lot to hate someone. Maybe, all the embers between us had just died.”

“Things don’t just die,” said Cindy. “People hurt each other a lot first.”

“Are you crazy or something?” asked Kendra, “pushing me up against the wall?”

“I’m pushing you because I want to clear you,” said Cindy. “I want to get everything out on the table, turn it over in daylight, find out why it went on. The best way to be free is to honest – especially with yourself.”

Kendra turned to her. “You go be honest with yourself,” she snarled between perfectly formed, small, white teeth. “Why the hell are you down here on the island, poking around, way out of your league? It was a mistake to ever hire you.”

Cindy felt punched in the gut. At the same time it was fascinating to see how Kendra could turn on someone who was on her side, trying to help. Maybe she wanted to be found guilty? Maybe she actually committed the crime?

The restaurant was only half filled when they walked in, as it was still early. The moment Cindy and Kendra walked in, the Ma?tre D was ready for them, and showed them to a table in a half lit alcove in the rear, set away from others.

Kendra sat down and looked around anxiously. “Figures she wouldn’t be here yet,” she said. “It’s extremely rude of her to make us wait. What kind of woman would make us do that?”

“We’re a little early,” said Cindy. She’d pulled herself back together, decided to be entirely professional, not take anything this woman said personally in anyway.

Their water glasses were filled and they were given a wine list before the waiter left them alone.

“Why did you ask me if I loved Paul?” Kendra looked at Cindy oddly. “Are they thinking that Margot loved him and I did not?”

“I have no idea what they’re thinking,” said Cindy. “I do think she loved him, though.”

Kendra shuddered. “Do you know how that feels? Hearing your husband was loved by another woman who thought she was his wife?”

“It has to be awful,” said Cindy.

“Infuriating. I loved him in the beginning,” said Kendra. “He changed over the years. So did I. We had a daughter, we had a home. I knew he wasn’t perfect. But his having another wife and son is not something I ever imagined! It sticks in my craw. I’m not ready for this kind of public humiliation. The idiot ended up making me into a fool.”

Cindy felt badly for her. “I’m very sorry,” she said.

“So, if I’m agitated about this, I have a right to be,” Kendra continued.

“You certainly do,” said Cindy.

At that very moment they looked over and saw a woman in a blue silk dress, graceful, perfectly coiffed, walking towards them haltingly. Around her neck, she wore a ruby necklace.

“There’s the bitch,” Kendra muttered under her breath. “And what the hell’s she wearing?”

Both Cindy and Kendra stared at the necklace.

“That’s mine,” said Kendra. “It’s the one I bought that the police couldn’t find.”

Cindy was completely startled. “Obviously Paul gave it to her,” she said.

Kendra’s mouth hung open. “The bastard took my necklace from the safe and gave it to his other wife. He deserves to be strung up!”

Margot came closer to the table.

Cindy stood up, and extended her hand. “Hello, Margot.”

Margot gave Cindy her hand.

“Kendra, this is Margot,” Cindy introduced them.

The two women stared at each other for a moment as Margot sat down. Cindy wished she could get away. The tension was so thick it ran up over arms and legs. For a second she could hardly catch her breath.

“That’s an incredible necklace you have there, said Kendra,” staring at it with fire in her eyes. “Where did you get it?”

Margot lifted her hand and touched it lightly. “Gregg gave it to me for our anniversary,” she said.

“It’s my necklace,” said Kendra.

““What are you talking about? I cherish it,” said Margot clutching it tightly.

Thankfully, at that moment the waiter came back with a wine list for Margot and they ordered a bottle of red wine.

“We have more important things to talk about,” said Cindy, trying to deflect the tension and bring the lunch back on course. It was clear these two had never spoken.

“We have a common purpose being here,” said Margot icily, “to find the person who killed Paul.”

Kendra stiffened. “Why did he give you my necklace?” she murmured, staring at it. “It was mine. I bought it for myself.”

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