by Jaden Skye
“You’re too hard on her Tyra,” Carl interjected, “you always were.”
“Not hard enough,” Tyra insisted. “If I were this might never have happened.”
“How long were Kate and Sean seeing each other?” Cindy asked, wanting to stay on track.
“A long time,” said Carl, “much too long. He was her high school sweetheart and it went on and on.”
“He was her prom date,” Tyra interrupted. “I had a bad feeling even back then.”
“Kate was never really happy with him,” said Carl, “everyone knew that. It was always one thing and then another, up and down, back and forth. They’d get together and then break up again, all through college and after. That’s a sign of danger, I told her. If you knew how many times I begged her not to go back to him.”
“What do you mean a danger sign? Cindy was all over it. “Did he harm her?”
“I don’t mean it like that,” said Carl. “I mean it’s a sign that the two of them were not really meant for each other. Too much turbulence in their patterns, if you know what I mean. Differences don’t usually get better, they get worse. Sooner or later, the relationship breaks. And, the longer it goes on, the harder it hits.” Carl looked distressed as he spoke, as though he knew the drill well, had been through it himself many times.
Sadly, also had Cindy. “Why did Kate keep going back to Sean?” she asked.
“That’s the real question, isn’t it?” said Carl, turning full face to Cindy and looking into her eyes, deep down, way past the question. “If we had an answer to that one, the world would be a different place, love would last -.”
“Love lasts,” said Cindy in a small voice.
Carl smiled and moved closer to her. “Really? For whom? When?”
For a moment Cindy wanted to tell him about Clint, that she still loved him either though he’d died. But, she stopped herself instantly. That was beyond the scope of the conversation, and also it suddenly struck her, that she didn’t think of talking about Mattheus that way.
“Kate went back to Sean over and over because loved him,” Tyra chimed in, unabashed. “She loved Sean wildly.”
Carl winced.
“Carl could never understand that,” Tyra continued, “but to me it was obvious. Kate was never herself when she broke up with Sean. She’d go places, see friends, was always popular, but part of her was always just waiting for them to get back together again.”
“I don’t get it, never did,” Carl’s jaw clenched hard, “such a gorgeous girl, such a beautiful heart, what the hell did she see in him? He was lousy at school, dropped out of college, loved racing cars, hung out with a bunch of arrogant losers.”
It sounded gruesome to Cindy, like a strange kind of torture for Kate.
Tyra put her hand on Carl’s now.
“I did my best to stop it,” Carl continued, “I even tried to bribe her once. Nothing worked.”
“Kate loved you, Carl,” Tyra suddenly cried out, her voice breaking. “No one in the world could have been a better uncle than you. It’s not your fault. Some women like guys who give them a hard time. They can’t help it. I’ve seen it before.”
Cindy thought for a moment about her relationship with Mattheus, also up and down, wonderful and then troublesome. Was that a sign of danger? There was certainly a fascination about it though. It never got boring, that was for sure.
“Okay, tell us, what did you find out about Kate and Sean?” Carl wanted to know more.
Cindy was relieved to get back on track. “People on Kate’s Facebook page mentioned that she and Sean had recently broken up, had even come close to getting engaged.”
“Thank God that never happened,” said Carl nervously.
“That would have been better than this,” Tyra interrupted.
“Some said that Kate had been really hurt by the recent breakup,” Cindy continued. “They wondered why she was getting engaged to someone else so fast.”
“They wondered? What about us?” Tyra couldn’t seem to absorb the idea. “Kate never once said a word to any of us that she was getting engaged.”
That was definitely jarring, no doubt about it.
“You’re sure of that?” asked Cindy. “Kate didn’t mention it to you either, Carl?”
“No, she didn’t,” Carl shook his head. “It came as a shock.”
“Did she mention Clay at all?” Cindy continued.
“Very little,” Tyra shrugged. “I knew she was emailing with someone online, but that’s what they all do, isn’t it?”
“Just emailing?” asked Cindy.
“Kate said she met someone online who wrote wonderful emails and sometimes sent her poems. She looked forward to reading them, it made her feel better. I vaguely knew he came up to Long Island to meet her a few times and they went out on some dates,” said Tyra. “Kate didn’t say much about their dates, either. He was just someone from out of town. It didn’t seem important.”
“Have you met him yet?” asked Cindy.
Tyra covered her face with her hands and started crying. “I haven’t, I can’t. It’s too awful.”
Cindy turned to Carl. “Did Kate mention that she dated Clay to you?” Cindy asked.
“Yes,” Carl said somberly. “Frankly, I was glad that someone else had caught her interest. I never met him, but it sounded was good. He seemed stable enough, did well in school, worked for his father’s company. They didn’t actually meet or start emailing until after she and Sean broke up. Sean cheated on Kate with a girl in town, Riva. A piece of trash.”
“Carl!” Tyra was disturbed. “Don’t call her that. You don’t know her.”
“Riva and Sean hurt Kate,” Carl shot back. “What else can you expect from a slimy guy? The cheating was what did it. It was finally too much for Kate. She didn’t sleep for three nights. Then when she met Clay he wrote to her all day long. She started to feel better, was able to sleep again at night. It kept her mind occupied, she looked forward to hearing from him.”
“I have something that will surprise you,” Cindy said slowly then.
“What?” Both of them turned to her, expectant.
“The police gave me a note they found in Kate’s wastebasket. She wrote it to Sean before she died,” Cindy said, taking the crumpled paper out of her pocket and smoothing it out again.
Both Carl and Tyra stared at the paper.
“What did she say?” asked Tyra, alarmed.
“Read it yourself,” Cindy held it out as Carl leapt forward and grabbed it, his face puckering as he read every word.
“She’ll always love him, what garbage!” Carl exclaimed as he came to the note’s end.
Tyra grabbed the note and read it next. “She loved him. That’s how she felt,” Tyra insisted. “It wasn’t a lie.”
“It sounds like a good bye note,” Cindy said quietly, fishing to see how Carl and Tyra would respond.
Tyra began sobbing again. “She still loved him, she was still suffering,” she whimpered.
“There’s nothing new there,” Carl’s face darkened. “Telling the idiot she loved him again and again. What was there about him to love? Why didn’t she send the note to him?”
“She may have,” said Tyra, “this might just be a one version. It’s all crumpled up, the handwriting’s hard to make out. She probably wrote it again on a fresh piece of paper. If I know her, she did. Always begging him back, one way or another.”
“It’s an odd note to write the night you get engaged,” Cindy remarked. “The police are taking it as a suicide note.”
Both Carl and Tyra froze into silence.
“What do you think?” Cindy’s probed.
“That’s not possible,” Carl said in a husky tone. “I completely reject the possibility. There was no reason for her to kill herself over this. She’d been through breakups before.”
“But she hadn’t gotten engaged to someone else before,” Cindy interrupted. “Kate just got engaged to Clay and really wanted to be with Sean. Could be
she was desperate and didn’t know how to get out of the situation?”
“She could always have called me,” Carl burst out. “She called me for everything, all the time. I’ve gotten her out of worse situations.”
“But she knew you couldn’t stand Sean,” Tyra interjected. “Maybe she thought you wanted her to be with Clay.”
“Of course I did,” Carl was shaking. “Anyone could see why.”
“Did you know that Kate was coming down here to meet Clay for the week-end?” asked Cindy pointedly.
“Of course I knew,” said Carl. “I told her I thought it was a good idea. She needed distraction. She needed help forgetting Sean.”
“You knew? You knew? You never told me that,” Tyra began sobbing again.
“Did you also know that Sean and Riva are both down at the hotel here, too?”
“What?” Tyra jumped off her seat.
Carl grew pale. “Are you sure about that?”
“Positive,” said Cindy, “and did you hear that someone was yelling and banging on Kate’s door late that night?”
“No, I did not,” Carl’s face grew white. “Get the police on it, and you talk to that bastard right away.”
“Sean and Riva at the hotel? Why? What are they doing here?” Tyra could not be consoled. “It’s awful. What if they ran into Kate and Clay, what a nightmare for everybody.”
“Get right on this, Cindy,” Carl demanded, “you’re terrific, you’ve gotten to the heart of the matter. Suicide, my ass. If Sean and Riva are here that could be the answer to our questions. It could lock things up.”
“I am on it,” Cindy replied, as Carl stared at her, half admiringly, half afraid.
CHAPTER 11
As Cindy walked back to the hotel from the bar, she noticed the sky clouding over again and winds blowing up. It was unusual in Aruba for the clouds to keep returning. Usually the sun was constant and strong. Cindy wanted to get back to the hotel quickly and freshen up before she and Mattheus met with Sean. The police had called and informed him that they were coming and he was waiting for them. It seemed strange to Cindy that no one had spoken to Sean yet. She wanted to proceed wisely.
Cindy thought about having seen Sean briefly at Kate’s table the night before she died. She realized that the girl he’d brought with him was Riva, the one he’d cheated on Kate with. Sean had seemed agitated that night and now Cindy realized why. But why would be bring Riva along to talk to Kate? It seemed unnecessarily heartless, shoving their relationship in Kate’s face. It certainly didn’t bode well for Sean. As Cindy thought dwelt upon it, she felt uneasy about seeing him again.
As soon as she walked into the hotel, Cindy checked for messages at the desk. The clerk tapped his hands on the counter and then pointed to a couple sitting on a settee a few feet away.
Cindy turned and saw a striking, middle aged couple, sat on the edge of their seats, eagerly.
“They’re waiting for you,” the clerk said in a hushed tone, “Mr. and Mrs. Peters over there.”
Cindy looked over. The minute the couple saw her looking at them, the two of them got up, smoothed out their clothing, and walked to the desk. The woman was svelte, with a perfect figure, dressed in a mauve linen summer suit and the man was attractive, and well groomed, with thick, sandy, wavy hair. The two of them looked as though they’d traveled the world together.
“Cindy Blaine?” the woman reached out to shake Cindy’s hand. There was a stony composure about her that made Cindy feel as though she were in disarray.
“Yes?” asked Cindy, at first not realizing who they were, “can I help you?”
“I certainly hope so,” the man said without hesitation. “Margaret and Dan Peters here, Clay’s parents. Our plane just arrived a little while ago.”
Cindy felt oddly startled. “So glad to meet you,” she said.
The two of them stood before her unswerving, like a granite mountain.
“Our son is totally innocent,” Dan pronounced immediately, staring at Cindy pointedly. “The police will not give us any confirmation of this, or anything.”
“Your son hasn’t been charged with anything,” Cindy answered professionally, feeling put on the spot.”
“Let’s not play with technicalities,” Dan spoke intensely. “My son’s been through a horrendous nightmare. He doesn’t deserve this. He’s an incredible young man.”
“I’m sure he is,” Cindy said promptly, “no one has suggested otherwise.”
“He’s the focus of the investigation though, isn’t he?” Margaret said, taking her husband’s stiff hand in hers.
“It’s routine to focus on the person who last saw the victim alive,” Cindy said softly.
“Supposedly,” said Dan abruptly, the muscle under his eye twitching. “There’s no evidence that Clay was the last person to see her alive, though, is there? How can they be certain that someone didn’t break into the room while Clay was asleep?”
“We have no idea how it even happened that the two of them were sharing a room,” Margaret said, her face growing paler. “That is not Clay’s typical behavior.”
Cindy was taken aback. Were Clay’s parents living in their own world? Clay was over thirty.
“It’s not unusual for young men and women to go away for the week-end and share a room,” Cindy said gently.
“We knew nothing at all about this young woman, nothing,” Margaret spoke without taking a breath. “Then we learn that Clay was away in a hotel with her and they became engaged? After that she fell to her death the very next morning? The whole thing is preposterous. The paper said Clay met her over the internet. I don’t believe it. It never happened. It’s a setup, a complete scam. Someone is framing Clay.”
“It’s not hard to see why our son would be prey to scams like this, either,” Dan went on. “Clay hasn’t ever dated much. He isn’t the kind who’s familiar with women and their schemes. He’s always been close to his mother.”
“Too close perhaps,” Margaret said through pursed lips, “but there certainly hasn’t been anyone else in his life.”
“Have the police researched our son carefully?” Dan stepped in. “He’s always been a complete gentleman, had the best grades in school, graduated top of his class, amazing writer, editor of the school paper. He’s quiet and thoughtful - and now this! Here he is in the middle of a sordid situation with a young woman we never even knew. I doubt he even knew her.”
“Oh, he knew her alright,” Margaret chimed in. “I’ve seen the photos of them together on the web.”
Dan scraped his throat roughly. “Well, they may have gotten together in this hotel for a few hours for nefarious reasons. But that’s it.”
“Like what?” Margaret resented that.
“Sex, dear,” he said. “The girl probably lured Clay in for reasons of her own, a romp in the sack. With a high price to pay.”
“Not Clay,” Margaret said bitterly as two red spots rose on her face.
“Clay and Kate just became engaged,” Cindy said quietly. “They were planning a life together. She announced it to all her friends.” Cindy felt a need to protect Kate’s memory, to keep her from being reviled from those who would have become her new family, her future in-laws.
“Engaged?” Margaret’s voice grew shrill. “Clay would never have become engaged to someone without asking what I thought of her. He just wouldn’t. That’s not Clay.”
“Sometimes we don’t know our own children or the ones we’re closest to,” said Cindy.
Dan would have none of that. “Preposterous, both Margaret and I know our son thoroughly. We have an excellent relationship. I see Clay every day, he works for me. There is nothing hidden between us. Nothing at all.”
“Have you seen Clay here yet?” Cindy asked softly.
“Of course we have,” Margaret burst in. “He’s not himself, but how could he be? He’s confused, rambling, imagining things. Keeps saying how much Kate loved him. I said, Kate who? He said Kate, Kate, and opened the computer to
show me her picture online, and all the messages they’d sent and received.
“I looked at her and said who is she Clay? She’s a stranger to me,” said Margaret. “Then he looked at me and said look at the pictures of us together, Kate loved me. It was positively horrifying.”
“I can only imagine,” said Cindy.
“Clay told us that Kate’s family hired private detectives to find out more about how she died,” Dan interjected.
“Yes, they did,” said Cindy, “that’s understandable, isn’t it?”
“No, it isn’t,” said Margaret. “What have detectives got to do with this?”
“Either the girl jumped on her own, or she was killed, “said Dan. “And our poor son had to be the one to find her like that in the morning. But what else does it have to do with him? They were strangers, absolutely strangers.”
“Strangers who became engaged,” said Cindy.
“No one has proved that yet,” Dan insisted, “a few messages on Facebook doesn’t prove anything.”
“The girl was obviously seriously disturbed,” Margaret continued. “She created some kind of web around Clay, sucked him right into it. He was helpless to say no.”
“Clay doesn’t seem like the helpless kind,” Cindy responded, “and they weren’t strangers. Seems they had quite an internet correspondence going, and they’d also met in person a few times.”
“Have you read their correspondence?” Dan asked quickly.
“Not yet,” said Cindy.
“Well, you don’t know him then,” Margaret’s voice became more strident. “Clay could become helpless at times, he’s so trusting, poetic, only wants to see the best. Sometimes he becomes terribly disappointed with the way this world is. He and I have talked about it.”
Dan then took a step closer to Cindy. “Back away from Clay,” he said. “He’s having a hard enough time enough as it is now.”
“What makes you think I’m moving in on Clay?” Cindy shot right back at him.
“I didn’t say you were moving in on him, I just said back away,” Dan corrected himself. “We’re going to have a long talk with Clay tonight and get straight about everything - how he met the girl, what he was doing down here with her, and why he never said a word to us.”