Death by Proposal (Caribbean Murder #7)

“Huge storm,” Carl commented.

“Why do you want to speak to Clay?” Mattheus insisted.

“I want to see his correspondence with Kate,” Carl demanded.

“Cindy’s got your ear? Is she getting you crazy, making you think something else could have happened?” Mattheus asked.

“Leave Cindy out of it,” Carl stood up out of his chair.

“Whoah there,” said Mattheus, “Cindy’s my partner, remember?”

Carl threw Cindy a painful glance, shaking his head, as if to say, look at him. This is the guy you’ve chosen?

Cindy decided not to get involved with the undercurrents, not any of them.

“I think it’s a good idea for Carl to have a chance to look over his niece’s correspondence. It’s only fair,” Cindy stated firmly.

“What’s fair about it?” Mattheus flung out. “It was Kate’s correspondence, it was personal.”

“Nothing Kate did was hidden from me,” Carl declared. “If she wrote something to Clay, I need to see it.”

“That’s nuts,” said Mattheus, “Kate’s correspondence was her own. If she wanted you to see it, she would have shown it to you.”

The rains fell harder and the sky darkened.

“Café being closed in five minutes,” the Ma?tre D announced. “We’re boarding it up for the storm.”

“Okay,” said Cindy, “while the café is being boarded up, I’m going upstairs with Carl to Clay’s room and see if he’ll let us see the correspondence again. No harm in that, is there?”

Mattheus glared both at her and Carl then. “No, of course,” he said between gritted teeth, “have a lovely afternoon.”





CHAPTER 18


Cindy called from the front desk to tell Clay they were coming up for a visit, but no one answered the phone.

“I know he’s there,” Carl said, growing more anxious by the second as the phone kept ringing. “Let’s go up go up anyway and knock on the door,” he said.

“He may be with his parents,” said Cindy.

“Let’s go up and see for ourselves,” Carl insisted.

The two of them took the elevator and in a few minutes stood outside Clay’s hotel room, and knocked on the door. They waited and waited, no one answered.

“I know you’re in there, Clay,” Carl spoke loudly, pressing closer to the door.

No answer.

Cindy flashed for a moment on the night of Kate’s death. Did the same thing happen? Was Sean left out there, knocking and knocking?

Carl knocked even harder. “We’ve got to see you. It’s important, Clay,” he called.

Suddenly Clay yanked the door open and Carl almost fell inside.

“Thanks for letting us in,” said Cindy calmly, walking in beside Carl.

“Who said I let you in?” Clay seemed dazed and angry. “I didn’t. I just opened the door.”

Was Clay unaware that he’d let someone in the night Kate died, Cindy wondered.

“What do you want?” Clay looked taller than before, and more sullen. He stood in front of them, partially blocking their way.

“We just wanted a few moments with you, Clay,” Cindy began softly, in a conciliatory tone.

“A few moments turns into an afternoon, then a day, then a year,” Clay mumbled. “No one understands or respects time.”

Carl looked perplexed.

Cindy jumped on it. “I remember you told me that the moment you met Kate, time meant nothing. You felt like you knew her your whole life long,” Cindy said.

Clay looked at her acidly. “You remember that? An odd tidbit.”

“Not odd,” said Cindy, “another insight into time.” She wanted more from Clay and had to get it out of him quickly.

Clay liked Cindy’s comment and seemed more hospitable. He stepped back a moment and looked at Cindy, but then also at Carl. His eyes kept going back and forth between them.

“Here with another guy today?” Clay suddenly smiled, showing a perfect row of very white teeth. “You sure get around.”

Despite herself, Cindy flushed. “This is Kate’s Uncle Carl,” she responded.

“What happened to the stud you had with you before, Mattheus?” Clay seemed fascinated.

Cindy felt as though Clay had poured a pail of mud over her.

Carl was also offended. “Cindy and I have come to see you because I very much want to see your email correspondence with Kate,” he said.

Clay backed away and stared at him. “You think I’m that stupid?” he said.

“What are you talking about?” Carl became antsy.

“My correspondence with Kate is sacred. It was between her and me and no one else. I made the mistake once of showing some of it to Cindy, but then I realized she couldn’t understand a word of it. She knew nothing about love.”

Carl seemed staggered. “I’m not following you.”

“Too bad,” said Clay, as the winds blew harder against the hotel. “Get out of here now, I’m busy packing. We’re flying out tomorrow.”