Death by Proposal (Caribbean Murder #7)

“You get used to a life style,” Cindy started, “it gets a grip on you. Before you know it, years pass by.”


“How well I know,” said Carl. “I worked for years as corporate lawyer.”

Cindy was surprised.

“Just kept doing it because it brought in money and prestige and the wives wanted that.”

“And what did you want?” asked Cindy.

“Someone like you,” said Carl, looking at her through the sand which was blowing up around them. “That’s all I ever really wanted, someone just like you.”

Cindy felt shivery. “That’s probably how you felt about all your wives in the beginning,” she said softly. “It’s how everyone feels with someone new.”

“No,” Carl shook his head slowly, “this time is different. Let’s sit down and talk. The volcanic pool can wait for another time.”

Cindy smiled. He had a sweet charm about him that made it easy to go along.

The two of them stopped walking then and sat down at the edge of the shore.

“I know I’m too old for you, Cindy,” Carl started.

Cindy shrugged, age meant little to her. Her life had taken so many detours that conventional standards didn’t mean much anymore.

“It’s not about age,” said Cindy, “it’s about who a person is, what they want, how we are together. It’s about what we bring out in each other. But, truly, I’m not looking for anyone new.”

“You’re really in love with Mattheus?” Carl turned to her full on.

Cindy couldn’t answer.

“You hesitate,” said Carl swiftly. “If you were really in love you would have said so right away.”

“I don’t know what really in love means anymore,” said Cindy. “Relationships are more complicated than that. I definitely love Mattheus, that’s for sure.”

“Love him but not in love?” Carl persisted.

“You can’t build a life on in love,” Cindy said. “How long do those feelings last anyway?”

“If it’s the right person, a whole lifetime,” said Carl.

Carl was sweet and hopeful and Cindy liked that. “It’s nice that you’re still so hopeful, Carl.”

“Actually, it’s amazing,” he responded, “given all that I’ve been through.”

Cindy agreed. He’d been through a lot and was still open to finding love. She mused about that. It could certainly indicate a hopeful person, or perhaps it pointed to an attraction to getting hurt, on his part, or to an addiction to the rush that falling in love brings. Cindy wanted to know what had gone wrong in his marriages. But this wasn’t the time to ask about it. Things were hard enough for him now as it was.

“You know, I found out new things about the case from Mattheus,” Cindy said, turning the focus away from them, back onto Kate.

Carl seemed surprised. “Really? What?”

“Well, for starters, Mattheus didn’t think the fact that it wasn’t Kate’s bracelet that Riva had would make that much of a difference. Mattheus found more witnesses though. He said he’d located some people in Kate’s life who actually heard Sean threatening her and verbally abusing her publically.”

Carl shot up in a bolt. “Who told him that? Exactly what did they hear Sean say?”

“They said he called Kate names and want her to get away,” said Cindy.

“That’s it?” asked Clay.

“That’s a lot,” nodded Cindy.

“I’ve heard all about that before,” said Carl. “It was common knowledge. Kate and Sean had lots of lovers quarrels publicly. That’s why I kept trying to get her away from him. He was a loose cannon with his mouth. But he never lifted a hand to her.”

“Still, it builds the case against Sean,” said Cindy.

“Maybe,” said Carl, “but there’s no direct evidence linking him to her killing.”

“No, there isn’t,” Cindy agreed. “It’s tough, I so badly want you and Kate’s family to have closure.”

“Closure?” Carl moaned suddenly, “It’s never going to happen. Not for me. This is a wound I’ll never get over. I don’t know how I’ll get along without Kate. I just don’t know how.”

“It’s going to take time, but you’ll do it,” said Cindy quietly, “I know you will.”

Carl leaned over then and kissed the top of Cindy’s head, and she felt his warmth and yearning flowing down inside.

*

Carl and Cindy spoke for a little while longer and then returned to the shelter of the hotel as the sky suddenly became more threatening and the ocean looked as though riptides were beginning to form. They parted in the lobby and Cindy went back up to her, wondering what state of mind she would find Mattheus in.

When she walked into the room, she didn’t find him at all. He wasn’t there. Probably elsewhere in the hotel, Cindy mused. As she walked to sofa to sit down, Cindy saw an envelope addressed to her on the table. It was from Clay.

Cindy opened it quickly, her hands trembling. The note was written in plain, somewhat scrawling handwriting.