by Jaden Skye
Cindy looked over at the guy next to her, wondering if he was an ex pat himself. Perhaps he knew Sean? “Do you live here?” she asked him.
“Part time,” the guy responded, guarded. “Not an ex pat, if that’s what you mean. I come down to play and then go back up home again. Can’t beat that for a lifestyle.”
“What are you looking for down here?” the bartender focused in on Cindy, as the big gold door opened and more elegant, happy patrons came in.
“The young Caribbean girl who’s being held for the murder claims she was down here in Magenta’s Cavern at the time her stepfather was killed,” Cindy said.
That took the bartender back. “Really? We’re implicated in this?”
“You’re not implicated in anything,” the guy next to Cindy spoke forcefully. “It’s an alibi, but can someone confirm it?” he zeroed in on Cindy. Cindy wondered if he were a lawyer himself.
“That’s what I came down here to find out,” Cindy replied, “The young woman said people here saw her.”
“Really?” the bartender seemed uneasy at that.
“Who usually takes the afternoon shift at the bar?” Cindy continued.
“I do,” the bartender answered disconsolately. “I’m here from noon until seven each day.”
Cindy was delighted to hear that. “Then you would have had to be here when she claims she was.”
The guy next to Cindy moved closer again. “Look around here for a minute,” he said in a hushed tone, trying to be a buffer, “Is this the kind of crowd the girl would fit in?”
At a quick glance, of course, the answer was no, but Cindy remembered that Andrea had said
there was a wealthy, white guy in love with her. She turned back to the bartender then.
“Think about it carefully. Did you see a local ex pat here with a young Caribbean woman in the past couple of weeks?”
“Hell, there are so many people that come drifting in,” the bartender looked at Cindy, shifty.
“This couple had to stand out,” Cindy insisted.
The guy next to Cindy quickly shook his head, as if to tell the bartender to keep quiet.
“If we find out that you saw the couple and you keep it from us, that’s obstructing an investigation,” Cindy informed the bartender.
The bartender hedged. “Yeah, I think I remember something. Some local, young guy comes in, once in a while, with a very pretty, Caribbean girl. We don’t ask any questions, it’s none of our business. They come in and sit at the table over there. They stay a little while and then they go. He pays in cash.”
Cindy’s heart started beating fast. “Who is he?” she demanded. This information could save Andrea’s life.
“I really don’t know,” the bartender said, suddenly rapping his knuckles on the bar. “It’s not part of my job to know exactly who the customers are.”
“What do they do when they sit there?” Cindy was on fire.
“They have a drink and talk to each other,” the bartender replied carefully.
“Do they seem close?” Cindy couldn’t stop asking.
“Hell, how do I know?” the bartender shrugged. “Everyone seems close until they aren’t.”
“Anything else you noticed about them?”
“Nothing, I know nothing, I told you, and neither does anyone else,” he was getting fidgety now.
“That’s it,” the guy next to Cindy broke in. He and the bartender were obviously friends. “There’s no reason to pull him into this mess.”
“A young girl’s life could be at stake,” Cindy turned to him. “If there’s a witness that puts her here at the time of the murder, he could be saving her life. What time was she here?”
“I really don’t know,” the bartender had enough. “I have no way of knowing that. I just remember seeing them. I don’t know when they were here or for how long.”
Cindy’s excitement faded somewhat. At least part of Andrea’s alibi was true. She had been seen here with someone. Of course it wouldn’t amount to much unless they could say exactly when.
“Did anyone else see them?” asked Cindy.
“Now you’re going too far,” the bartender backed off. “I have no idea who was here and saw them. And I have no idea who the guy is.”
“If by some chance he should come in again and you see him, would you please get his contact information for me,” Cindy asked.
The bartender threw his head back and closed his eyes a second, “If by chance he comes in, I will,” he echoed as Cindy realized that there was absolutely no way he meant what he said. “Anyway,” he went on, “you want a drink?”
Cindy really didn’t. She stood up and the guy beside her had stood up as well, irritated. This certainly wasn’t the kind of thing he came to the bar for.
Cindy turned to him anyway, “You’re sure you didn’t see them, either?” she asked casually, just in case for some reason he might have.
“Not a chance,” he responded, patted Cindy on the shoulder, lowered his head and said, “it’s not a good idea to keep pursing this. There are people around here who make sure this part of the island is kept trouble free. The tourist trade and the value of the homes here depend on it. They don’t like detectives snooping around. They won’t take well to it.”
“And who are these people, if you don’t mind my asking,” Cindy wouldn’t let him off the hook.
The guy smirked. “You didn’t hear what I said,” he answered. “They don’t answer questions like that.” Then he turned and walked to the other end of the bar, sat down and turned his back to her.
*
Cindy easily got a cab to take from Magenta’s Tavern back to the hotel. As she sat down in it, she was surprised to realize how exhausted she was. It had been a grueling day. But, at least this trip was not in vain. Andrea had actually been seen here. Her story wasn’t total fantasy. That was something, at least. The bartender’s shift was from noon until seven, so at some point during those hours she’d actually been in the Tavern. Cindy was excited to tell both Mattheus and Sean about this. The fact that Andrea had been seen here gave some support to her claim.
But Cindy needed more and she didn’t want to let another moment go by. It suddenly struck her that Petra would know about Andrea’s visits to Magenta Tavern. She might well know who Andrea met there. Cindy quickly leaned over to the taxi driver and told him to go straight to Petra’s house.
Chapter 18
Evening was approaching as the taxi drove in the fading light to Petra’s house. Cindy expected she’d be home. Where else would she go? Cindy had heard that these days Petra had been laying low in her home, not talking to many people.
When Cindy got out of the taxi, she walked quietly to the front door. To her surprise it was ajar. She could just push a bit and go in. For a moment she was going to do that, but then decided to ring the bell first. Cindy rang and rang and no one answered.
Finally Cindy pushed the door open a little more and heard loud music playing. It was probably drowning out the sound of the bell. She took another few steps down the familiar hallway and then walked straight into the living room.
To Cindy’s total amazement, Petra sat on the sofa with Mattheus. They both had drinks in their hands and were smiling. Again? Cindy couldn’t believe her eyes. Another rendezvous?
“Excuse me for interrupting,” said Cindy as she stood at the edge of the room.
Petra and Mattheus stopped talking at the same moment and looked over at Cindy.
Petra jumped up, in horror. “You don’t believe in knocking?”
“I rang the bell many times,” said Cindy.
Mattheus got up and came over as well. “The music was loud, we didn’t hear you,” he said, looking nervous.
“So I gather,” said Cindy, shocked and amazed to see him here again.
Petra was agitated. “You have a lousy habit of walking in on people, you know. What are you, some kind of crazy stalker?”
“I just came from Magenta’s Tavern,” Cindy replied, ill at ease
. She didn’ t know exactly what had drawn her to Petra’s place this moment when Mattheus was here, but she was glad she’d come. And, of course, that didn’t deny the fact that Petra was right, she should have knocked or called. On the other hand, finding Mattheus with Petra was totally disconcerting. He hadn’t said a thing to Cindy about going to talk to her again. Obviously they were developing some kind of relationship.
“What happened at the Tavern?” Mattheus was right on it.
“The bartender remembered seeing a pretty young Caribbean girl there a few times with a guy from that area,” said Cindy. “That had to be Andrea.”
“Oh wow,” Mattheus was excited.
“Beyond that, nothing. He doesn’t remember what time she was there exactly,” Cindy spoke to Mattheus as though he were a distant, business acquaintance.
“Cindy, it’s great that you found that out,” Mattheus jumped off the sofa and took a step over to her.
Cindy’s body jerked away instinctively.
“What so great about it?” Petra dove in. “I could have told you that. Andrea went to Magenta’s Tavern regularly. So what?”
“So, it could prove her alibi,” said Cindy.
“Nothing’s gonna prove her alibi,” Petra suddenly became sullen. “No one wants it proven.”
“Don’t start that again,” Mattheus said to her.
Cindy looked at the two of them partially disgusted, partially unmoved.
“Petra believes that Andrea’s gonna get killed in jail,” Mattheus commented. “She called me here to tell me that.”
“By who?” asked Cindy coolly,
“What’s wrong with you, Cindy?” Mattheus asked.
“What’s wrong with me?” Cindy finally flared up. “I’m not the one who declares their undying
love one minute and then runs to be with another woman the next.”
“His undying love?” Petra laughed out loud. “For who? For you? It’ll never last, honey. You’re not the kind for him. Guys like Mattheus need a woman who can be there for them all the time, whatever happens, no matter what.”
Obviously that was the way Petra ran her love life, and look what it lead to. Cindy wondered what else her comment was implying. Had Mattheus told her personal details about their relationship?
Cindy shuddered at the thought of it.
“Sounds like Mattheus has given you an earful,” said Cindy.
“An earful of lots of things,” Petra smiled, throwing out the gauntlet at Cindy.
“This is going too far,” Mattheus didn’t like it. He tried to break in. “I’m here to find out more about Andrea, just like you are, Cindy.”
Cindy refused to engage with Mattheus, though. “I came here to find out who the guy is that
Andrea meets at Magentas,” Cindy said straightforwardly to Petra.
“If I knew his name, I’d tell you,” Petra’s eyes flared. “But I don’t. No one does. Andrea’s keeping it secret.
“Why?” Cindy demanded.
“Why not?” asked Petra.
“Playing games with me isn’t going to help a thing,” Cindy took her on. “I’m here to help your daughter.”
“Don’t give me that,” Petra snapped. “You’re here to take Mattheus far away from
his daughter. You’re here to help yourself. You want Mattheus back, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t,” said Cindy and meant it. “In fact, I can’t wait to solve this case and get out of here.”
That truly pleased Petra, “Be my guest,” she jumped right in. “Get out of here now.”
“You don’t want everyone possible here, helping to free your daughter? That’s peculiar to me,”
Cindy looked at her accusingly.
“Everything’s peculiar to you because you don’t belong here, and you don’t understand our
world,” Petra replied. “So I can’t see how you’re gonna do any good.”
“Especially when you don’t really want your daughter freed,” Cindy replied menacingly. “Do
you, Petra?”
Petra winced. “You accusing me of something again?”
“I don’t know, Petra, should I be?” Cindy took a step closer to her. As she did, she noticed Petra’s eyes were bloodshot. She’d probably been drinking. “You had a lot to gain by Cain being dead, didn’t you?”
“Oh yeah? What?” Petra seemed suddenly woozy.
“How about you and your boyfriend, for starters?” Cindy wasn’t holding anything back.
“I told you the guy I was with was a neighbor,” Petra insisted.
“Who said him? I mean Mattheus,” Cindy shot back.
Mattheus gasped at that comment. “That’s ridiculous, Cindy, it’s nuts,” he exclaimed.
Petra smiled a long, languid smile though, “Now that’s something that’s not such a bad idea,” she crooned. “I can think of lots of worse boyfriends to have than Mattheus. If you ask me he looks even better now than he did years ago when I first met him.”
“This is crazy!” Mattheus shot back at Petra. “What are you trying to do? Get both of
us locked up?”
Petra threw back her head, laughed loudly, flung herself at Mattheus and put her arms around his neck. “Honey, I can think of a lot of worse things than being locked up with you!”
Cindy cringed as Petra tossed her a backhanded look over her shoulder. It was as if she were saying, he’s mine now. I got him. Go take a walk.
*
Cindy took Petra’s advice and stormed out of the house without another word. She wasn’t
taking any walk though, but heading straight to the jail to speak to Andrea one more time. Andrea
deserved to know that part of her alibi had been verified. Maybe when she heard that she’d tell Cindy
the name of the guy she’d been there with.
Despite the late hour, Cindy was admitted into the holding station without much ado. By now
The police there and guards knew who she was.
“I need to see Andrea right away,” Cindy said to the main guard the moment she entered.
Cindy’s urgency frightened him a little. “Why? What’s happened?” he exclaimed. “More trouble
coming?”
Cindy knew he was referring to the beating Andrea had undergone. “Could be,” Cindy
answered, to make sure he’d let her in.
“Well, tell us about it first,” the guard requested.
“I’ll tell you about it after I talk to Andrea,” Cindy exclaimed, holding it as a card to insure they’d
let her in.
Without further fuss, the guard took a ring of keys and lead Cindy down the hallway to the waiting section.
“We don’t usually get visitors this late at night,” he mumbled as they walked along.
“It’s urgent,” Cindy repeated and he grew quieter as they approached the waiting section.
“I’ll sit here,” said Cindy, “while you go get Andrea.”
To Cindy’s relief the guard did exactly as she told him to. Cindy hoped that the time of night and intensity of the visit might job something loose in Andrea, get her to talk to her honestly.
*
In just a few minutes the guard returned, with Andrea following him, looking scared.
“Sit here,” he commanded her, roughly, motioning to a chair opposite Cindy.
Andrea sat down, staring at Cindy, almost in tears.
“We need to be alone now,” Cindy said to him, in an authoritative tone.
“Got it,” he replied, grumbling, and walked back down the hallway.
“What happened?” asked Andrea nervous. “Why are you here so late? Did something happen to my mom?”
Cindy thought it was interesting that Andrea would think that. “Why do you think that?” she probed.
“Because she’s all alone now,” Andrea’s voice sounded as if she were wailing.
“What about her friend? The neighbor who came here with her?” Cindy asked promptly.
“He’s just a neighbor, he’s in and out,” Andrea looked more frightened. “If she’s alone anyone can harm her.”
“Was that your job, Andrea, to take care of your mother?” Cindy asked then, breathlessly.
“It was one of my jobs,” said Andrea. “Why?”
“And what were the others?” Cindy had to hear.
“What do you want from me now? Why did you come so late?” Andrea’s lower lip started to tremble.
Cindy reached out her hand and put it on Andrea’s. “I didn’t come to upset you. I came to tell you interesting news. It could be important, it could help you.”
“What is it?” Andrea’s eyes opened.
“But you have to cooperate with me, too,” Cindy took her hand back. “You have to answer my questions.”
“I’m answering them as best I can,” Andrea looked both helpless and terrified at the same time.
Cindy decided to calm her down, give her the news and hoped that would cause her to respond.
“I went to Magenta Tavern,” Cindy started, “and the bartender told me he saw you there.”
“What?” Rather than relieve her, she grew more alarmed. “Why did you do that? That’s crazy.”
“I went to confirm your alibi,” Cindy exclaimed. “No one else had, I told you I wanted to. And I did. The bartender said he saw you there with a guy. Is he the one who loves you?”
“Shut up,” Andrea snapped back. “It’s none of your business.”
“Of course it’s my business, I’m here to help you, Andrea.”
“That’s what he said too, he said he’d always help me. But where is he now? Nowhere. Has he even come to the jail once to see me? No. None of my friends have come to visit. And I’ve even gotten a weird note saying that now he’s seeing someone else.”
“I want to see that note, Andrea, I have to see it,” Cindy said intensely.
“I ripped it up right after I read it,” Andrea exclaimed. “Then I got other notes, pressuring me to confess, or else.”
“Did you rip those up too?” asked Cindy.
“Of course. The notes said I should rip them up right away, or I’d get beaten even worse than ever. And besides that, I hear someone walking back and forth outside my cell late at night. When I told the police, they paid no attention.”