Death by Seduction (Book #13 in the Caribbean Murder series)

“Two ships who could travel side by side, possibly?” Eric’s glance turned quizzical.

The strange moment between them hung in the air, waiting for a reply. There was no question that they were really comfortable together and, strangely in synch. They also were both alone. But Cindy actually knew nothing about him, except for the all-important fact, that Eric was one of Charma’s main customers, and that he cared about Charma a lot. That was all Cindy had to remember to break the spell.

“From where I stand, it looks like you’re taken,” Cindy said softly, not wanting to go further down this road.

“You mean Charma?” Eric responded quietly.

“Yes,” Cindy replied.

“You’re judging me because of her?” Eric looked distressed.

“I’m not judging you at all,” Cindy replied, “just acknowledging the facts as I know them.”

“You don’t think guys who frequent prostitutes can ever have anything more?” Eric’s face flushed. “You don’t think I ever had another relationship?”

“Of course, you must have,” Cindy responded.

“My wife of ten years, who I adored, cheated on me,” Eric replied swiftly. “Then she took everything from me, including my kids.”

“Awful,” breathed Cindy.

“You can’t even imagine,” Eric retorted, a look of deep bitterness crossing his face.

“I can imagine,” replied Cindy.

“No, you can’t. No one can,” the muscles on his face tightened.

“Of course I can imagine,” said Cindy, “and it seems that you decided never to trust a woman again. It must have become easier to have love for sale.”

Eric bristled. “I don’t think of Charma as love for sale.” Obviously the phrase disturbed him. “Charma does her job. I do mine. She does her job well, I respect her for that.”

Cindy thought that Eric had no idea how attached he was to Charma, but it wasn’t her business. She decided to say nothing more about it.

“Don’t you think I can change?” Eric was far from done, though.

“I suppose it’s possible,” said Cindy.

“Everything is possible,” Eric insisted.

“Yes, that’s true,” Cindy agreed, “everything is possible, but some things are not so likely to happen.”

“You’re pessimistic,” Eric chided. “I didn’t realize that before. Such a beautiful woman and so pessimistic!”

“Not pessimistic, realistic,” Cindy replied.

“No, pessimistic, and that’s why you’re alone.”” Eric was insistent. “

Eric’s comment stung. Even though it might be so, Cindy felt his comment was out of order.

“You’ve been hurt a lot, badly disappointed,” Eric was on the offensive. “And you’re reacting to your pain by doing this kind of work. And, now even doing it alone.”

“I didn’t know I was being psychoanalyzed,” Cindy replied curtly. “I happen to love the work I do. I respect it.”

“I like you, Cindy,” Eric’s voice became stronger. “You’re smart, you’re beautiful. I have a right to want to know more about you.”

“I like you too, Eric,” Cindy replied, “you’re smart, you’re handsome, you’re well established. Should I say I have a right to know more as well?”

“Yes, you should,” he replied.

“But that’s not why I’m here with you for dinner,” Cindy turned the conversation around. “I’m here to do a job, to find out who killed my friend’s husband.”

“You’re hiding behind that,” Eric insisted.

“Whether I am or not doesn’t make a difference,” Cindy replied. “It’s why I’m here.”

“And that lady doesn’t look like much of a friend. She’s nasty, she’s bitter,” he continued.

“Loretta’s upset and alone. Her husband has been killed, she has a right to lash out,” Cindy declared.

“Okay, you win,” Eric drew back then. “I’ll give you the same promise you gave me. I won’t try to understand anything about you. I’ll just do what I can to help.”

“That would be wonderful,” said Cindy, “I’d appreciate that.”

“You’re most welcome, beautiful lady,” Eric smiled. “You’re wise too, I’m sure of that. Looks like we’re both in much too far over our heads already.”

Cindy wasn’t sure what he meant by that. “It’s easy to get lost, she just said simply.

“Very easy,” Eric replied. “You can say that again.”

“What’s next then?” asked Cindy.

“Let’s finish up here and go find John Burnd,” Eric was right on it.

“So late?” asked Cindy.

“Absolutely,” Eric replied. “Guys like him don’t come out of the woodwork when there’s still the light of day.”

*

The cab wound down dark, narrow streets to the edge of the neighborhood, making its way slowly.

“There’s a club Burnd hangs out in, Rattlesnake Gin,” Eric said as they drew closer. “It’s sleazy, it’s dirty, but the locals love it. They got crazy music and terrific beer.”

Cindy wondered how come Eric was so familiar with the place?

“When we walk in, hold onto my arm so the thugs think you’re taken,” Eric instructed.