Death by Obsession (Caribbean Murder #8)

At that Lynch let out a long, hollow moan. “Why was she killed? Who did it?”


The sound of his cries upset Mattheus terribly and he put his arm on Lynch’s shoulder. “Take it easy, Lynch, that’s what we’re here to find out.”

“You got to find out!” Lynch was inconsolable.

“Is there anything else you can tell us?” Mattheus asked in a low tone. “Did Tara say anything at all about where she was going after you parted, or what she wanted to do?”

Lynch racked his brain but could come up with nothing. “I can’t remember anything special. I just knew she was going back to her room to get ready for the rehearsal dinner.”

“She was excited about it?” Ned continued.

“She was thrilled, we were happy,” Lynch kept moaning.

Suddenly then, the door opened and a huge cop walked in. “Over here, Ned,” he said, beckoning him quickly to the other side of the room.

Cindy and Mattheus followed along and the cop stared at them belligerently.

“It’s okay,” said Ned, “they’re on the case. Private detectives.”

“Okay,” the cop relented, “you won’t believe this. Just listen. The news that the victim was murdered at around five pm was on TV late last night. So, first thing this morning, two eye witnesses walk into the station and report they saw a guy hovering around Ryder’s Cove at ten after five last night. That’s around ten minutes after the victim died. We talked to them separately, asked for a description, showed them some photos and both of them identified the same guy.”

“Spit it out, tell me who?” Ned was on pins and needles.

“Dawl Lemmings,” the big cop said.

Cindy felt punched in the stomach. “Whoah, wait a second,” she broke in. “Who are these guys who identified him?”

“They’re two locals who work on the docks nearby,” the cop said. “I’ll give you their names in a few minutes.”

Cindy didn’t believe it. “What were these guys doing at the Cove?” she demanded.

“They said they took a walk there after work. There’s a spot they go to for dinner, nearby,” the cop reported. “It’s perfectly normal.”

“Nothing’s normal here,” said Cindy, “I want to talk to them

“Yeah, and who are you?” the cop flipped back at her.

“Cindy Blaine,” she replied. “My partner and I work for Aldon Whitfield, the father of the murdered girl.”

“Fine, so come into my office and speak to them, then. They’re still here,” the big cop relented.

Cindy walked down the hall into the big cop’s office and saw two heavy set Caribbean men in overalls, seated next to each other on metal chairs.

“Todd and Mac,” the cop introduced them.

Cindy walked over to them and the guys looked up at her, their eyes dull and torpid.

“Exactly when did you learn that the victim was murdered?” Cindy blasted the question at them. She wanted to see if she could shake their story, ruffle them up.

“We were in the bar together last night, saw it on the TV,” one of them answered, dully.

“Probably about eleven o’clock,” the other agreed.

“What were you doing at the Cove on that afternoon?” Cindy felt relentless. “Why were you there?”

“Hey, honey, we’re not on trial for murder here,” one of them scoffed.

“Why the hell shouldn’t we be at the Cove?” the other one broke in. “We work at the dock nearby. Work was done and we took a walk over. Do it all the time.”

“Can this be verified?” Cindy asked the big cop instantly.

“Sure can,” he said, “nothing special about it.”

“You’re positive you saw Dawl Lemmings there?” Cindy returned to the guys.

“No question about it,” one of them answered. “The minute the cop showed us his picture, we knew who it was. Hey, a girl’s been killed and this guy’s a menace.”

“What was Dawl doing near the Cove?” asked Cindy.

“Hanging by himself, looking down at the water. He looked funny, if you asked me. I mentioned it to my friend right away. I said, we don’t usually see this guy down around here, late afternoon. There are regulars who hang here, and he’s not one of them.”

“Very convenient,” said Cindy.

“You sound like you’re working for Dawl,” one of them said to Cindy, smiling oddly for a second.

And who are you working for? Cindy wanted to ask, but forced herself to say nothing.

Mattheus walked over to her. “Watch what you say,” he whispered to her, “you’re getting the cop upset. There’s no reason to doubt their story. The police will verify it.”

“It doesn’t make sense to me, Mattheus,” Cindy felt desperate.

“Just calm down,” Mattheus demanded.

“These two guys just pop up out of nowhere?” asked Cindy.

“We’ll find out more about them in a few days,” Mattheus said. “You don’t want to make enemies of the police, or they’ll keep us out of everything.”