Death by Devotion (Caribbean Murder #9)

Ann had arranged for a meeting between Cindy and Marge the day after the welcome home party. Marge had arrived looking lovely and happy, quite different from the way Cindy remembered. Probably because she was now divorced from Ralph, Cindy’s thought initially.”You look great, Marge,” Cindy had offered when Marge walked in.

“So do you,” Marge seemed equally surprised to see how put together Cindy seemed.

“Everyone’s wondered what in the world’s really become of you since Clint died and you’ve stayed down in the Caribbean. We all heard that you had a partner. Pretty quick, if you asked me.”

Ann had come out to the living room then with a tray carrying two cups of coffee and tiny pastries.

Both Cindy and Ann took their cups of coffee and sat down on the sofa.

“Yes, I have been working with a business partner,” Cindy replied formally.

Marge’s eyebrows raised and a little smile crossed her face. “Really, just a business partner? People have said he’s much more than that.”

“What people?” Cindy was irritated. Marge had always thrown daggers at her. Seems it was a family sport.

Now Marge shrugged, “Just people,” she countered. “People who have been following your adventures closely, reading about you in the papers. There’s a bunch of them here in Cove Bay, you know.”

For a moment Cindy’s heart fluttered in fear. But she quickly regrouped, there was no reason for it. Marge always enjoyed casting innuendos, creating uneasiness.

“Well, people say all kinds of things, don’t they?” Cindy had answered non-commit ally.

“In fact, people have even been wondering why in the world you’ve come back?” Marge looked at her boldly. “You would think this house had too many memories for you.”

Cindy blanched. “This house has good memories for me, Marge,” she’d answered briskly.

“Good?” Marge seemed amazed.

“Clint and I spent wonderful times here before he was killed,” Cindy said softly. “His things are here and it’s good to be back with him.”

“His things are here, but he’s not,” Marge quickly shut down Cindy’s reverie. “And I can’t imagine that you’d ever bring your new partner here either, would you?”

Cindy smelled something coming became alert and quieted down. “What’s on your mind, Marge?” she asked bluntly.

“Well, it’s actually odd that you’ve returned,” Marge started, “because Al and I were going to contact you, anyhow.”

“About what?” asked Cindy, warning bells going off.

“About this house,” Marge was blunt. “We want it back in the family, just like we wanted it before.”

“Want it back?” the words stuck in Cindy’s throat. “You never had it. The house belonged to Clint and me. We found it, we bought it, we lived here and fixed it up.”

“Your name was never on the deed,” Marge retorted. “And you weren’t mentioned in Clint’s will.”

“The house was in Clint’s name. I was his legal wife and now the house automatically belongs to me. He never updated his will. Whoever thought he’d have to?”

“You were his legal wife for about a week,” Marge retorted, her face flushing.

“What are you trying to tell me?” Cindy demanded, standing up and putting her coffee cup down on the table.

Marge hadn’t hesitated a moment. “Sell the house back to the family. We’ll pay you for it. We want to give it to Clint’s son, to come to and visit. It’s only right that he be near us so he’ll get to know his father’s family. He’s all we have left of Clint.”

Cindy was aghast. Where was this coming from? Had Marge been in touch with Heather? Clint had a son with an old girlfriend, Heather, but never knew about the child. Heather had married someone else before the child was born and told her husband the boy belonged to him. Cindy had only found out about all this after Clint had died. Al had known about it though, had he told Marge? Had she known all along, as well?

“Have you been in touch with Heather?” Cindy asked, horrified.

“Yes, I have,” Marge answered, proudly.





“What about Heather’s husband?” Cindy insisted. “Does he want to come here too?”

“They’re divorced now,” Marge replied quickly, “Heather’s a single parent, just like me. Nothing lasts long, does it, Cindy?”

Cindy stared at Marge, wounded. Obviously Marge and Heather had teamed up, become friendly and joined forces against her.

“Heather’s son is my nephew,” Marge insisted. “We want him to be close to us.”

“And what about Heather?” asked Cindy. “She wants to live here now?”

“Not live here, but she’s agreed to visit, spend time down here with the family as much as she can. She likes the idea. And while she’s down here, you better believe, I’m introducing her to every available guy I know.”

Cindy’s head began spinning. She wasn’t ready to give up the house, let go of her last connection with Clint. The cottage had become a safe haven for her, a place to return to and re-group.