Cindy took in his words. He was right, of course. There was only so much we could plan for, arrange and control. Ann didn’t agree, she felt that every detail of life had to be put in order. But Cindy knew how to be ready for the unexpected; the shocking events of her life had trained her beautifully for that.
Cindy and Pastor Mallord chatted a bit more and then he had to depart. After he left, rather than feeling uplifted as usual, Cindy began to feel a strange restlessness. She walked back and forth in the living room aimlessly, then cleared the table, straightened the kitchen, and drank two more glasses of lemonade. Rather than calm down though, she felt more and more uneasy. There was no reason for it though, Cindy mused. Pastor Mallord had probably just brought up old, painful memories and left unanswered questions in her mind.
As Cindy drifted around the house reviewing their conversation, her phone rang. She looked and saw it was Mattheus, the last person she wanted to talk to right now. She let the phone ring and decided to go for a walk outside in the fading light of the day.
Cindy walked for a while and then returned calmer. This was a time of upheaval and it was natural to feel waves of anxiety, she thought. There was a good chance Cindy would take the job at the paper. This was a huge change of life she was embarking upon. And what would happen between her and Mattheus then? She had absolutely no idea.
Cindy came back inside the house, grabbed a book and curled up on the sofa just as the phone rang again. Could it be Mattheus calling for a second time? She hoped not. Cindy stretched over to see who it was and to her surprise saw instead that it was Frank calling from Bermuda.
Excited to talk to him and Ann, Cindy quickly picked up.
“Cindy, Cindy,” Frank’s voice sounded frantic.
“What?” He didn’t sound like himself.
“Cindy,” Frank’s voice grew louder, practically shouting.
“What’s wrong, Frank?” Cindy zeroed in.
“I can’t tell you, I can’t tell you,” he then sounded as if he were about to sob.
“Tell me immediately!” Cindy shot to attention.
“Ann’s been found in our room,” he practically gasped, “not breathing, not moving.”
“What are you talking about? What are you talking about?” Cindy’s heart started pounding.
“Late this afternoon,” he went on.
A haze fell over Cindy’s mind. She couldn’t take in what he was saying.
“What are you telling me, Frank?” Cindy’s voice rose a pitch.
“Ann’s dead, she’s dead,” he started sobbing desperately. “
“Are you dreaming? Are you crazy? Are you high on drugs?” Cindy started growing cold. “Ann’s fine, she’s healthy.”
“She’s gone, Cindy,” Frank managed to gasp between sobs now. “Get on the next plane and come right down.”
Cindy’s entire body started shaking. “Frank, wait a minute! What happened? What happened?” Cindy’s legs buckled as she fell onto the sofa.
“I don’t know,” Frank’s voice suddenly became stony. “I came upstairs from the pool and there she was laying in the bed, face down. Her neck had scratch marks on them.”
“My God, my God,” Cindy breathed.
“She wasn’t breathing, she wasn’t moving,” Frank repeated, sounding ghastly. “I kept yelling Ann, wake up. But she didn’t! She hasn’t! I called downstairs. They sent up a doctor. He did what he could but it was too late. The police are all over the place. They think someone killed her.”
“Frank,” Cindy yelled, “Stop! It’s not possible, I won’t believe it.”
“Believe it or not, it happened anyway,” he growled back, “get down here immediately.”
*
Frank hung up and the phone dangled from Cindy’s hand as the room started to spin and the day turned into a blur. It wasn’t possible, she had to have been dreaming. Cindy lifted herself from the sofa and looked at the phone again. It was true, Frank had called from Bermuda.
Barely able to breathe, Cindy dialed Pastor Mallord.
Thankfully he picked up right away. “It was wonderful seeing you again, Cindy,” he started.
“Pastor Mallord,” Cindy started gasping.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” he sounded alarmed.
“Come over immediately. I need your help.”
“Of course, I’m coming,” he was fully on alert. “What’s wrong?”
“Ann is dead,” Cindy could barely get the words out.
A terrible silence fell on the other end. “What are you talking about?” His voice grew dim.
“I just got a call from Bermuda,” Cindy rallied for a moment. “Frank found Ann dead in their hotel room. They think someone killed her. I’ve got to get on the next flight and get down there. I need your help to get tickets and get me to the airport. I can’t do it alone.”
“My God, my God,” Pastor Mallord cried out aghast. “Dear Lord, why do you give us pain like this?”
Chapter 3