Death by Request (Caribbean Murder #11)

Mattheus was about to respond when his phone interrupted once again. “Yeah,” he picked up instantly. “Okay, I hear you. Where are we? We’re a few blocks from the entrance of Jolin Court Beach, sitting under a bench. Yeah, of course, we’ll go right there now.”


Cindy stared as Mattheus hung up.

“Police said Alana’s not at her home. Someone in the neighborhood said they saw her flying down the street, looking crazed, laughing out loud to herself. The police are out there searching for her as we speak. A car will pick us up in a few minutes to join the hunt.”

“Oh God,” said Cindy, afraid.

“If she’s fleeing there’s a reason,” said Mattheus, “could be we’re closer than we think to the case coming to an end.”





Chapter 19



A cop car arrived in a few moments, picked up Cindy and Mattheus, turned on their sirens and fled to join the crew of police cars relentlessly searching for Alana. Brusque messages barked over walkie talkies giving the suspect’s supposed whereabouts. Cindy held Mattheus hand tightly as their car swerved back and forth, up and down narrow streets, following leads that lead nowhere.

“Suspect’s probably leaving town,” the cop who drove the car barked his message back to others.

“All roads leading to the airports are blocked,” came an immediately reply.

Cindy couldn’t imagine Alana leaving Jamaica. Where would she go?

“Does Alana have friends in town she could hide out with safely?” Cindy asked loudly, her voice joining the fray.

The cop driving the car answered, “That’s being checked out now. We got Konrad at the station, and are grilling him. He’s just been fired too.”

My God, thought Cindy. The two of them thrown out like dead meat.

“This looks good for your client,” the cop driving the car shot back to Cindy and Mattheus. “Takes the heat off him, makes these others look bad.”

“Reasonable doubt for sure,” Mattheus whispered to Cindy.

That was true, and Cindy didn’t know why she didn’t feel good about it. She should have been thrilled that Owen would be getting off.

“Will Owen be released soon?” Mattheus asked the cop, alerted.

“Depends on what we get from these two suspects,” the cop commented, “can’t see how they can hold him after this.”

Suddenly an abrupt message from the police barged in, interrupting their conversation.

“Suspect spotted at the Tinderball Bridge. Get there immediately!”

“Finally,” the cop driving exclaimed. “This creep could have lead us on a wild goose chase all night long.”

The car did a sharp U turn, spun across the road and headed fiercely towards Tinderball Bridge about a mile from where they were.

“What’s she doing at Tinderball Bridge?” Cindy called out to no one in particular.

“Who the hell knows?” the cop replied. “Could be she’s on crack and has plans to blow the bridge apart. There’s all kinds of drugs down here that fry the mind. We can’t take any chances.”

Dear God, give her a chance to calm down and talk to someone sanely, thought Cindy, as the car drove up the unpaved road that lead to the bridge.

The car arrived in a few seconds. As soon as it stopped Cindy flung the door open and ran towards the bridge. Even from a distance she could see Alana standing on it, high up near the railing, flinging her arms back and forth desperately.

“Hold on a minute,” a cop tried to stop Cindy as she got closer.

“I’m a detective on the case,” shouted Cindy, pushing the cop back and plunging closer, running up to the very edge of the bridge.

The edge of the bridge was surrounded by cops speaking through megaphones.

“Get down now,” one megaphone called to the desperate woman.

But why would she listen, thought Cindy as she grabbed a megaphone and put it to her lips.

“Alana, this is Cindy,” she called through it. “I’m here and I want to help you.”

It was hard to make out what Alana responded, but if you listened carefully you could.

“I’m innocent,” Alana was wailing. “I didn’t steal drugs, I didn’t kill Tara, I didn’t kill anyone. I’m not a killer. I’m a nurse.”

“She’s claiming she’s innocent,” the cop next to Cindy translated. “She’s been yelling that since we got here.”

“I believe you, Alana,” Cindy called back.

“You don’t believe me,” Alana’ voice grew more desperate. “No one believes me, no one wants to give me a chance.”

“I do,” Cindy begged through the megaphone.

“No, you don’t, you’re against me,” Alana began sobbing. “I’m innocent and no one will listen. I never stole drugs, I didn’t harm Tara or any other patient.”

“Come down, Alana,” a policeman called through another megaphone.

“I believe you, Alana,” Cindy insisted, “I truly believe you.”

“You’re lying again, I can’t trust you.” Alana’s head dropped down as her hair blew wildly in the wind.

“They all claim they’re innocent,” the cop with the megaphone near Cindy stepped closer to her.