Death by Deceit (Book #5 in the Caribbean Murder Series) (6 page)

“Called you down from where?” asked Rodney.
“You left Grenada?”

Cindy felt like she was under investigation
now.  She didn’t like it, there was no need for it. Her personal life with
Mattheus had nothing to do with the case. Or did it, in their eyes?

“I went home for a while to take a break,”
Cindy said succinctly. “Needed some down time.”

“We all need that, “Alex, said, coming to her
defense.

 Cindy appreciated his support.  “Without down
time we can’t do this job,” she repeated.

“You could have said no,” Mattheus turned
towards her, swiftly.

“What I meant to say,” said Cindy, “is that I
didn’t want to say no. I want to be of help here.”

“You believed his wife was dead all along?”
Rodney turned and stared at Cindy point blank.

Cindy shivered. Did they think she’d been
playing around with a married man and had something to do with the killing? The
thought of it horrified her. What else could he be insinuating? Whatever it
was, Rodney’s sudden change in manner threw her off balance. She looked back at
him boldly.

“Shelly’s been missing for six years,” Cindy
said abruptly. “Mattheus described years of intense searching for his wife to
me.  And, as we well know, it’s highly unusual for someone to be found alive
after all this time.”

“Certainly is,” said Alex, brushing his shaggy
hair back off his face.  Although Alex had a low key quality about him, he’d
also been listening intently, not letting one detail slip by.

“Sooner or later, Mattheus had a right to go on
with his life,” Cindy added.

“Of course he did,” said Alex.

“Sounds like you care a lot about Mattheus,”
said Rodney.

“Of course I do,” said Cindy, as the wind blew
up and the waves tossed more swiftly onto shore.

Mattheus looked up at her for a moment as their
eyes touched, then quickly parted.

Alex stepped a bit closer to Cindy. “These
kinds of situations are very complicated,” he said softly.  “You understand we
have to follow every possible trail.”

“Of course I do,” said Cindy. He was reaching
out to her, trying to soothing her and she appreciated it.  “And I have some
thoughts of my own about this as well,” she continued. “Did you guys check the
Abused Women’s Shelter where Shelly worked?”

Alex nodded, “We did.”

Rodney interrupted then, wanting to take back
control of the conversation. “We talked to Shelly’s supervisor Victoria. I
believe I mentioned that Victoria was the one who identified her body.
Everything at the Shelter was in order. Shelly did a fine job, people like her,
they respected her work. The people there are horribly upset.”

“Who else did you talk to there?” asked Cindy,
“co-workers, clients, residents?” It was an unusual place to work and Cindy was
curious about it. “There has to be lots of information you can get about Shelly
from the community there.”

“We didn’t really feel that was necessary,”
said Alex, trying to meet Cindy’s glance. “We’ve been focusing on Anthony.”

“We’ve got the right guy,” Rodney broke in
again, “just have to make this air tight. Clean up any possible avenue that
could lead away from him.”

Mattheus stood up tall at that moment. “I want
to know more about this guy,” he said, his jaw protruding.

“Fill him in, Alex,” Rodney said.

Alex spoke up clearly and simply. “The guy is
in late thirties, from the Caribbean.”

 Mattheus seemed startled. “Where in the
Caribbean?”

“Jamaica. He’s a great musician,” Alex went on,
“played sax in some of the best bands in town. Also cut a couple of albums.”

“I couldn’t care less,” Mattheus grunted.

“Seems like he and Shelly moved in together
about two years ago,” Alex continued.

“Two years?” Mattheus could barely manage to
say it.

Cindy swallowed hard. How awful for Mattheus to
have to know that Shelly'd been alive all this time and living with another
guy.

“What was she doing down here before that?” Mattheus
was digging in.

“Not much for a while, then she got this job at
the Shelter,” said Alex.

Mattheus rubbed his foot on the mud.

“Sorry about this,” said Alex, coughing a
little.

“Just keep going,” said Mattheus.

“The guy Shelly shacked up with was known for
doing drugs,” Alex continued. “Not a dealer, a user, like lots of the musicians
down here. He’s a good looking dude, who gets tons of attention from the
ladies. Makes sense that Shelly wouldn’t like that. Some people told us they
would fight about it at parties after the concerts. Seems like she was the
possessive type.”

Mattheus stared at them, his eyes boring like
coals through the darkness. “Shelly wasn’t a possessive type. She was never
jealous. She felt secure.”

“When she was with you,” Rodney interrupted.

 “This is nuts,” said Mattheus.“I don’t believe
a word of it. It doesn’t ring true.

“These are the facts,” said Alex.

Cindy remembered how Mattheus always said how
the facts were different for different people. They meant something else,
depending on who saw them.

Mattheus’s face grew tauter. “So you ‘re
convinced this guy killed her?”

“They’d been fighting a lot before she turned
up dead. Neighbors heard them and so did others. He was seen running from their
house late at night the day before the killing. His alibi is shaky. He said he
was with a cousin down at the other side of town. The cousin confirmed it, but
we found out that this cousin wasn’t home at the time of the murder. She was at
a nearby club partying. Anthony wasn’t there,” Rodney laid out the alibi, blow
by blow.

 “It doesn’t fit,” Mattheus grumbled, “Shelly
would never be involved with a guy in a band who did drugs. Not of her own free
volition. Believe me!”

“Something could have happened to her between
the time she left New Orleans and was found down here,” said Cindy.

“What?” Mattheus suddenly barked, at his limit.

“That’s what we want to know,”  Rodney stepped
right in.

“Let me talk to this guy myself,” Mattheus
insisted, his breath coming heavily. “I’ll get you your answers.”

“Okay, okay,” said Rodney. “You talk to him.
Grill him good. See what really went on between him and your wife. We’ll set it
up right away.”

Anthony was scheduled to be brought over for
questioning from the local jail down the road to a room in the back of the
police station first thing in the morning. Mattheus got up, showered, shaved
and walked to the police station as the sun was coming up. He’d barely slept,
couldn’t eat and his heart was pounding as he felt a strange mixture of nausea
and excitement.

Finally, he’d be face to face with the guy who
killed Shelly. It was something he’d been waiting for, for years.  This was
different though than he’d anticipated. Now he realized that all those years
he’d been searching, she’d been alive down here. Wasn’t even in hiding, just
perfectly happy.  It made him feel like an idiot, unsure of everything, really.
How could he have been so fooled? She had to be aware that people were
searching for her, living in hell.

Rodney told Mattheus to get to the Police
Station early. When he arrived, the door was open and he walked in, then went
straight to Rodney’s office. It was empty, but Mattheus sat down and waited. He
felt a little woozy, not having had anything to eat this morning or last night.

Last night, after he and Cindy got back to the
hotel, she’d wanted to get a bite in the restaurant, but he'd been sick to his
stomach. Food was the last thing on his mind. Also, he didn’t want to sit
there, opposite her, look at her incredible face and make small talk. There was
no point in pretending everything between them was alright. It wasn’t. The
entire situation made his head spin.

All kinds of feelings tossed around inside as Mattheus
sat down on the rickety chair, waiting for Rodney. For starters, he felt
incredibly humiliated. He’d been cuckolded and ridiculed in the worse kind of
way. And it had been worse having all of this come out in front of Cindy. What
must she think of him now? It was probably lucky that Shelly was dead, or else
he might have wanted to kill her himself now, finding out the truth. She would
have deserved it too, he thought. His body starting to tremble with the old,
familiar anger he’d lived with for years after she’d disappeared.

Then he stopped himself. This was no good, in
the early days Mattheus felt this rage towards Shelly’s murderer, the one he’d
hunted obsessively and never found. Mattheus thought the rage had subsided.  And
it had. But the thought of her living with someone else all these years, was
bringing it to the foreground again. How could she have done that, with him not
knowing where she was, thinking she was dead, searching? Who does something
like that? Not the woman he knew and loved so much.

Of course it was still possible that the body
they found wasn’t Shelly’s.  A small possibility. Mattheus knew he had to
identify the remains himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it yet. He’d
looked at some photos the cops showed him of her, and it certainly looked like
her. There was no real reason to doubt the identification they had.

Mattheus looked around Rodney’s office now. It
was quiet and ordered, ready for a new day. The guys down here did a good job.
Mattheus saw no reason not to respect them. He didn’t know how he’d be able to
stand face to face with the suspect though, and keep from choking him. Why not
do to him what he'd done to Shelly?  Why give him a chance to live? The court
system would put him away and provide three square meals for life.  Shelly
wasn’t eating three square meals though, was she? She was cold, flat dead.

Mattheus felt himself break out into a sweat.
These sweats came upon him all night long. What the hell was he so upset about?
If this was all true, if Shelly’d really taken off and just taken up with
someone else, not letting anyone know, she deserved to be dead anyway.

The door opened abruptly then and Rodney walked
in. He was drinking a cup of coffee from a paper cup and threw Mattheus a
careful glance.

“You’re here nice and early,” Rodney commented.

“I’m ready,” said Mattheus. “Bring him on!”

Rodney sat down opposite him.

“Did you have some breakfast?” he asked slowly.

“No,” said Mattheus. “I’m not hungry. Couldn’t
sleep much last night, either.”

“Makes sense,” said Rodney. “How about a cup of
coffee? There’s a machine out there.”

“Coffee’s good,” said Mattheus suddenly feeling
blurry again.

Rodney got up, went outside to the coffee
machine, came back in a few minutes with a cup of coffee and handed it to him.

“Appreciate that,” said Mattheus.

“Listen, sorry we were so hard on you
yesterday,” Rodney scrutinized Mattheus carefully.

“Forget about it,” said Mattheus, “You had to.
It’s business. I’d have done it, too.”

“Drink your coffee,” said Rodney.

Mattheus raised the cup to his lips but
couldn’t bring himself to drink. The smell of the coffee made him nauseous, but
it felt good to hold the warm cup in his hand. It calmed down the trembling
that came and went at the thought of talking to Anthony.

“They’re gonna bring him over in about ten
minutes,” Rodney said then. “You’ll be in a two way vision room in back.
There’ll be a table between the two of you. Alex and I will be watching from
the other side.”

“Good,” said Mattheus. It was relieving to know
they’d be watching. It would stop him from getting too rough.

“Pull out all the stops,” said Rodney, as if
reading his mind. Let him know you’re the husband. See what you can get him to
spill. We could use a confession. It would be terrific.”

“He denies that he did it?” Mattheus asked.
“Tell me more.”

“Yeah, he denies everything,” said Rodney. “You
go in cold and see what you can drag out of him. He’s been in custody a few
days now, that should be taking some kind of toll.”

Suddenly Mattheus smirked. This was the moment
he’d been waiting for, wasn’t it? Waiting for years! Face to face with the
killer? Okay, now he’d go and get the guy for all he was worth.

“That’s it,” said Rodney, “let’s go.”

Mattheus stood up, his legs suddenly wobbly and
followed Rodney out of his office, through the corridor, around a hallway, to a
room in the back. 

“You go in through this door,” said Rodney,
motioning to the first door. “I’m going in the door behind. He’ll have no idea
we’re here listening in. Good luck.”

*

The room was small and stifling with a window
high up, through which early morning light was trying to stream.  Mattheus took
a seat behind the metal table and waited. He didn’t want to plan what he was
going to say, was going to let it all just rip.  It was better to work off the
moment and see what it brought.

The door opened suddenly, and a warden came in
with a tall, dark, good looking, muscular guy. Too good looking for his own
good, thought Mattheus. The guy was dressed in prison garb, his head held high.

“Anthony Freeway,” the warden said.

Mattheus bolted, stood up and stared at him,
baring his teeth.

“Ring the bell over there when the interview’s
done,” the warden said, “and we’ll come back and get him.” Then he left.

Mattheus couldn’t take his eyes off this guy.
This was the guy Shelly had slept with, lived with, chosen over him. Why? The
guy seemed strangely comfortable being here, too. That surprised Mattheus and
irritated him.

“Sit down,” Mattheus hissed, taking charge.

Anthony went around the table and took the seat
opposite Mattheus. For a second, they sat absolutely still, staring at each
other. 

“You’re looking at Shelly’s husband,” Mattheus spit
out.

Anthony closed his eyes a second.

Open your lousy, rotten eyes, bastard, Mattheus
thought. Don’t try to pull something like this on me. 

Anthony kept his eyes shut tight.

“Law enforcement! Detective on the case,”
Mattheus threatened. He wanted to see the guy flinch. Anthony didn’t. “Did
Shelly tell you about me? Did she tell you she was married?”

Anthony opened his eyes and stared a long time.
Now this seemed hard for him, too.

“Answer me, you rotten bastard,” Mattheus felt
his blood begin to boil.

“No, she didn’t,” Anthony said sadly.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I didn’t know a thing about you,” Anthony
said, finally, not a word all these years.”

Mattheus felt completely side swiped. He didn’t
know why.

“Look man, I’m really sorry,” said Anthony,
lurching back in his chair.

Mattheus was even more thrown off.  An apology
was the last thing he’d expected. “Sorry about what?”

Anthony shook his head, “I’m truly sorry you
have to go through something like this.”

“Like what?” Mattheus’s voice rose and he felt
his body clenching. “Don’t talk in riddles to me, man.”

“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not my fault. Give
me a second, man. I didn’t know Shelly was married. I had absolutely no idea.”

Mattheus felt the blood drain from his face.
“Shelly lied to you, too?”

“Looks like it,” said Anthony.

Something about this guy caught Mattheus.
Something in his tone, in his voice, disconcerted him. “Okay, talk,” Mattheus
said.

“When I met Shelly, she was living down here
alone, a free floating woman, if you know what I mean,” Anthony went on.

“No,” Mattheus felt, heat rising. “I do not
know what you mean!”

Anthony shook his head harder. He seemed to
feel really sorry for Mattheus. “I mean Shelly had her own place, her own
friends, her own ways, like every other single woman.”

“I don’t believe a word of it,” Mattheus snarled.

“If I’d known about you, man, it would have
been different,” Anthony said. “After they found her body, the police told me
that she’d gone missing from New Orleans. I was just as shocked as everyone
else. Believe me, I had no idea.”

“You guys lived together and didn’t talk about
her life?” Mattheus wasn’t buying it.

“Sure, we talked. She told me all kinds of
things. I have no idea if I can believe any of them, now,” said Anthony,
shaken.

“She never mentioned me?” Mattheus repeated
insistently.

“She didn’t man, not once,” Anthony mumbled
under his breath.

Mattheus wanted to lunge at him, but then
pulled back. Something again in the tone of his voice – Mattheus had to listen.

“I didn’t hurt her, I swear it,” Anthony cried
out, in deep, sudden pain.

“But she’s dead,” Mattheus proclaimed loudly.

Anthony’s eyes glazed over. “I know it, I know
it.” His head fell into his hands. “You don’t think I want the killer found? I
do. I loved her, man.”

“You loved my wife?” Mattheus was shaken,
watching him.

“I loved Shelly,” Anthony repeated in a broken
voice.

  “Everyone saw the two of you fighting,
yelling,” Mattheus said, “they saw you running through town late at night the
day before she was killed.”

“It was no big deal – people fight, they make
up,” Anthony picked his head up out of his hands.

Mattheus looked at him closely. His eyes were
red and bleary.

“We had our rough spots, she wasn’t always
easy. In fact, she could be one wild broad. We laughed about it. “

“No, not Shelly.”

“Yes she was - a  handful. But that’s what I
loved about her.”

Mattheus cringed to hear it.

“We were together for a long time,” Anthony lamented.

That stopped Mattheus cold. It was obvious
they’d had a powerful relationship. This guy was devastated. It was real.

“Tell me more,” Mattheus demanded.

“When I first met her Shelly she’d been down
here about six months or so,” Anthony seemed relieved that someone was actually
listening. “She loved it down here – that never changed.  Told me she loved it
from the first time she visited, when she was a teenager.”

“She never visited this place when she was a
teenager,” Mattheus corrected him, his jaw clenched tight. “The first time she
visited was when she came down with me.”

“I believe you - she lied,” said Anthony. “Who
the hell knew it then? Now I’m figuring it out, but I didn’t know then. When we
first started to date, we took it slow - she told me she needed time. She said
her life had been rough, she needed space.”

Mattheus didn’t know exactly what that meant? Her
life had been rough? Her life growing up, or her life with him? Mattheus
thought her life had been perfect when they were together, that he gave her
everything she wanted.

Anthony went on slowly, remembering. “I gave
her all the space she needed and little by little, she settled down. We got
closer and closer.”

Mattheus swallowed hard.

“I would never have killed her,” Anthony
suddenly cried out in such an anguished tone it drove chills through Mattheus.
“She was everything to me!”