Cindy was startled by his response. “Are we just supposed to go through our day as though someone didn’t die under our window?”
“It wasn’t under our window,” Mattheus insisted. “It’s the hotel’s window. We’re just guests. We’re here to be together, enjoy each other, make plans for our life.”
“Of course, I understand,” said Cindy, “but don’t you want to at least find out what happened?”
“If you want the truth, I do not,” said Mattheus firmly, “I want to lay back down in bed with you and hold you in my arms.”
Cindy couldn’t do it. “I want that too, but not this second,” she said.
“Cindy,” Mattheus looked at her firmly, “this second is all we’ve got.”
“This second and then the next one,” said Cindy.
“But anything can spoil our time together,” Mattheus replied, petulantly. “It’s so great between us now.”
“Mattheus, someone just died under our window. I can’t lay back down with you right this moment in bed.”
Mattheus shrugged and walked away. Cindy absolutely refused to get into a fight with him about this. He was right, she saw how quickly life could change and spoil whatever they’d found. But still, the howl of pain that had woken her up couldn’t be disregarded. It kept ringing through Cindy’s mind.
“Let’s get dressed and go downstairs for breakfast,” Cindy suggested. “We’ll find out what happened, take a few moments, then we can roam around the island. I always wanted to visit Aruba, see the Lighthouse, and snorkel at Baby Beach.” It seemed like a good balance to Cindy. They weren’t pretending nothing had happened, and they weren’t getting stuck in the middle of it.
Mattheus’s face brightened. “Thanks, that’s great,” he said softly.
Cindy stepped closer to him. “Don’t thank me,” she said, “you’re right, Mattheus. We have to remember what we can down here for.”
“It’s not always easy,” he agreed. “I feel antsy, too.”
Cindy was relieved to hear that.
“But you come first to me now,” Mattheus continued and I have to come first to you too.”
CHAPTER 4
It felt strange to Cindy to come first to someone. She wasn’t used to it, hadn’t really felt that before, not even with Clint. It felt more natural and comfortable for her to put work first and have her partner do the same.
“Let’s go, let’s get dressed,” Mattheus was excited about embarking upon their day.
Cindy put on blue linen shorts and a hand painted yellow T shirt and packed a beach bag with a bathing suit and swimming gear. She brushed her hair until it was shiny and felt refreshed and excited as they left their room to go downstairs together.
Breakfast was served in several places, the main coffee shop, the outdoor terrace in front of the hotel and in the back garden, down under a hill, nestled under hanging trees. The terrace in front was easiest to get to.
When Cindy and Mattheus stepped out of the elevator, into the lobby it was packed with guests, reporters and police. A sense of fear and shock pervaded the atmosphere. You could see it on all the faces and hear it in the hushed conversations taking place.
“Oh God,” Cindy whispered, “we have a radar for trouble, run into it wherever we go.”
“This is not our trouble, we’re guests, “Mattheus repeated as they started to walk to the front terrace. But, like everyone else, they were soon stopped by hotel security.
“Guests are being asked not to leave the premises until we interview them,” a tall, lanky guard said. “Sorry about this. It’s a matter of routine. The front entrances are blocked off.”
Mattheus nodded. “We were headed to the front terrace for breakfast,” he said.
“Blocked off for now,” the lanky guard said. “Better go to the coffee shop. Once they speak to you, you’re free to leave.”
Cindy and Mattheus nodded and headed towards the coffee shop, making their way through the uneasy crowds, who looked at each other furtively. They had to be wondering if the killer was here among them, Cindy guessed.
“Nervous crowd,” Mattheus remarked, picking up the edgy vibes.
“They’re obviously wondering who was found dead and how it happened,” Cindy commented.
“Question is - was it a suicide or murder?” said Mattheus.
Cindy stopped walking and looked at him. “Why do you say that?”
Mattheus shrugged, “At first glance it looks like suicide with victim lying splattered on the ground. When someone could have jumped, the police usually consider it suicide in the beginning. But it’s an assumption. The death has to be investigated.”
A slow chill ran up Cindy’s arms. She knew that what Mattheus was saying was correct. She also knew it was possible that the person was murdered and that the murderer was roaming among them right now.
“Are the police any good on this island, Mattheus?” Cindy asked quickly.
“Same as any island,” he remarked. “Overworked, underpaid, probably sick to death of foreigners.” Then he took her arm and moved her along. “Come on, let’s go get breakfast, it’s our vacation, remember.”