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

The cop paused and looked at Cindy carefully. “Loretta Twain called and told us you were on your way over,” he replied. “She told us to take good care of you.”


Cindy was grateful to be expected, and also glad to connect with the police. Their support would make all the difference to her in this investigation.

“Thanks so much,” Cindy walked over to him and extended her hand. “Cindy Blaine, private detective.”

He smiled. “Ron, here,” he replied. “Such a pretty little lady with a job like this?”

Cindy realized how much easier it had been interacting with the police with Mattheus at her side. The guys took her more seriously when she was with him. But she couldn’t buy into that now.

“I’d like to see the crime scene,” she replied, professionally.

“All business, eh?” Ron kept the smile on his face.

“Come on, Ron, show it to her,” the girl beside Cindy shoved into him playfully. “It’s good to see you here, honey,” she said to Cindy then. “Even Shanya heard that you were coming and was very pleased about the news.

“Who’s Shanya?” asked Cindy, looking around.

“She’s an older woman who lives here and helps us out,” another girl on the sofa piped up. “She loves Charma, we all do. Shanya told us she’ll definitely be getting out.”

“Really?” said Cindy, fascinated.

“Hey Ellie, you pipe down,” said Ron.

“Pipe up, pipe down,” Ellie sounded like an alley cat, mocking Ron. “I’ll say anything I want, big boy.”

Ron’s smile turned into a grin. “Boy, this is the best job I’ve been sent to for months,” he said, enjoying every minute of it.

“What does Shanya mean that Charma will definitely get out?” Cindy turned to Ron.

“It doesn’t a thing,” Ron mumbled. “They can all think anything they want.”

A tall, sensuous girl then came out of a side room, a printed robe wrapped around her thin frame. An older man, slightly stooped over, followed behind her, scuttling away, the moment he saw Cindy.

What a scene, thought Cindy, agitated, wondering how Pete’s body really ended up here?

“Go with Ron and see the scene of the crime,” the girl next to Cindy urged.

“Shut up Dawn,” Ellie called from the couch. “Cindy knows what she’s doing. Welcome to our house, Cindy.”

“Thanks,” Cindy responded and was then silent. These women meant well, they wanted to help, but it also struck Cindy strongly that none of them seemed the least bit disturbed about Pete’s death. Were they all just relieved thinking Charma would get out? Was it a common occurrence for guys to end up dead down here?

“Go take her to the crime scene Ron,” Ellie got up from the sofa then, coming at him.

“You give me an hour alone with you in the back and I’ll take Cindy anywhere you like,” Ron answered.

“You do what I say or you’ll get the beating of your life,” Ellie played with him languorously.

“Okay, okay,” Ron feigned fear, “I’ll be good. Come on, Cindy, let’s go.”

Cindy followed Ron down a narrow hallway. There were a bunch of closed doors on both sides of the hallway with strange sounds coming from inside the rooms. Finally, they reached the door on the end. He opened it quickly and they went in.

The room was small, airless and messy. Cindy could practically breathe, it was so musty and smoky inside. The bed was stripped. On a small table near the bed was a bunch of plastic flowers in a vase and an ashtray full of cigarette stubs.

“We can’t move anything in the room for a few more days,” said Ron. “Got to keep everything like we found it.”

“Where was Pete when they found him?” Cindy was all business.

“Laying here across the bed, butt naked, blood all over the place,” Ron answered, unmoved.

“Who found him?” asked Cindy.

“Charma,” said Ron. “The girl he’d hired that night.”

Cindy took a swift breath. Ron was giving her the official story but she had to take it with a grain of salt. What proof did they have the Pete had spent the night here? But if he’d been somewhere else and had an alibi, Pete certainly couldn’t tell them about it now.

“The police got here fast and took all the evidence they needed,” Ron went on methodically. “After that they cleaned up the blood.”

Cindy was startled by his nonchalance. “This is all routine?” she asked. “Things like this happen down here a lot?”

“Things like this happen everywhere,” Ron mumbled.

Cindy scanned the room carefully. She was disappointed that the blood had been cleaned up and wondered if blood spatter evidence might have told a different story. Had the police been careful enough about collecting it? Aside from the bed, dresser, flowers and cigarette stubs, there was nothing else in the room she could take note of.