Death by Request (Caribbean Murder #11)

“That’s why you came down here, isn’t it? To find that out?” Alana peered strangely at Cindy. “You want to know if I did it?”


“I need to know more about what happened at your other job,” Cindy replied honestly.

“I was fired because I can’t make rich, white folks happy no matter how hard I try. I had an old lady who was a patient and did everything for her, from A to Z. It was old age that took her, but her family said it was all my fault. They turned on me. Everyone has to blame someone, don’t they?”

“How exactly did she die?” asked Cindy, suddenly frightened.

“She died of old age, I’m telling you,” Alana’s voice became loud and shrill. “Why can’t you believe me? Why didn’t they?”

“Did she die unexpectedly, as well?” Cindy had to check every angle.

“When does anyone ever expect a person to die? It’s always a shock,” Alana started to yell. “I just happened to be her main nurse, so I was fair game, get it?”

“Nobody in this hospital knows about it, do they?” asked Cindy.

“Except Konrad,” Alana howled. “He hired me despite it, he trusted me from the first minute we met. Why should anyone else know? Am I supposed to live my life under a black cloud?”

“I’m sorry,” said Cindy softly.

“What are you sorry about? That Konrad trusted me, or that the old woman died?” Alana began to quiet down.

“I’m sorry you’ve been in the middle of people dying strangely, over and over again,” Cindy replied.

“Well, don’t be so sorry,” Alana scrambled over to the side of the room and grabbed something laying on a table there. “Here, take this,” she returned and thrust a book into Cindy’s hand. “It’s Tara’s diary. I found it in her bag when she was brought in.”

Cindy felt shaken, looking at it. “You took Tara’s diary?”

“I took it a few days before she died,” said Alana. “I suddenly wanted to know more about her life, to keep her close to me.”

As Cindy took the diary her hands started trembling.

“You keep it now, you read it,” said Alana. “Read it before her cremation. It’s up to you to get justice for her now.”





Chapter 13



The first thing Cindy did when she returned to the hotel was to call Tara’s family to get Loretta’s number. Isabelle, Tara’s mother, immediately answered the phone.

“This is Cindy, from C and M Investigations,” Cindy quickly reminded her.

“Yes, of course,” Isabelle replied. “I remember you well. It’s good to hear from you. How can I be of help?”

“I actually want to speak to Tara’s daughter, Loretta,” Cindy responded. “Is she still around?”

“Yes, she’s waiting for the cremation before she goes home,” Isabelle replied, not pausing to ask how Cindy even knew about Loretta’s existence.

“May I come to the Villa to see her now?” Cindy asked.

“Loretta’s not staying at the Villa with us,” Isabelle sounded weary. “Naturally, we invited her, but she didn’t want to. That’s how she is. She’s staying at a motel.”

“Which one?” Cindy wanted to go there immediately.

“Loretta wouldn’t tell us,” Isabelle replied,” but I do have her phone number. You can reach her that way.”

Cindy was surprised that Isabelle was willing to give her Loretta’s number so quickly.

“Thank you,” said Cindy, pausing. “And how are you doing? It must be quite a shock for you to suddenly have your granddaughter here with you again.”

“My granddaughter?” Isabelle answered in a haze.

“Yes, it must be quite a shock to see her again,” Cindy repeated, realizing how jarring Loretta’s sudden re-appearance must have been.

“Everything is a shock for us these days,” Isabelle replied slowly. “Loretta hasn’t been part of our life for years and it’s hard to believe that Tara is gone.”

How well Cindy understood what Isabelle was feeling. She softened her tone. “Mattheus and I were surprised not to have met Loretta at the Villa along with the rest of the family,” she commented.

“I never thought of it,” Isabelle sounded slightly nervous now. “Why would you want to meet her? Are you and Mattheus coming to the cremation?”

“Yes, certainly,” Cindy replied.

“Good,” Isabelle replied, as if Cindy and Mattheus were responding to an invitation to a formal dinner party. “At the very least, you’ll see Loretta then.”

Cindy wasn’t sure what to make of it. Did Isabelle really wanted her to meet Loretta, did she expect Cindy to reach her by phone? Cindy wanted to call Loretta immediately and find out.

“I’m really sorry for your loss,” Cindy said once again, wanting to hang up the phone. “Please accept my condolences.”

But Isabelle was not ready to end the conversation. “How are you doing with the case? “Anything new?” she went on.

“It’s too soon to say specifically,” Cindy remained vague.