Jaden Skye: Death by Honeymoon

“Ann,” Cindy began, “I found a lot of troubling information. About Clint’s company. I have a report he wrote…I know it sound crazy, but I think he was getting ready to implicate them. And I think they got rid of him.”

Ann nodded.

“And I think that whoever got rid of him wants me dead, too.”

“Do you any proof?” Ann asked.

“Just one report he wrote. But it’s pretty damning.”

Ann nodded, eyes drifting in and out.

“What should I do?” Cindy asked. “Go to the police.”

Ann shook her head.

“The FBI,” Ann said.

Cindy’s eyes opened wide.

“It’s an international crime,” Ann continued. “You need the FBI. Go. Don’t wait.”

Ann’s words gave Cindy a chill. They also gave her courage, determination to go on. She squeezed her hand as her eyes drifted closed and she knew, once again, that Ann was right.

Cindy’s meeting with Officer James E. Farnell at the FBI took less than fifteen minutes. Farnell was a big, heavy set, square jawed guy, who’d been through this a thousand times. Cindy brought all the information she had about Clint’s death, along with everything that had happened since then, including the company reports, and placed it all squarely on Farnell’s desk.

He sat there chewing on his bottom lip, examining the papers.

His eyes half closed, he peered at Cindy. “It’s all circumstantial,” he finally said.

Cindy’d heart dropped. “You won’t take on the case?” she asked.

“There’s no case here,” he said.

Cindy’s heart dropped.

“I’m not saying it’s not adding up. It’s interesting,” Farnell stuck out his jaw and tapped his thumb on it. “I need more. Something solid, something direct. You’re asking us to take on an international oil drilling firm, with connections in Washington. This isn’t enough.”

“Help me out,” Cindy said suddenly aggrieved.

“Sorry,” Farnell said.

“Wait a minute,” Cindy got angry. “You’re telling me to just forget it?”

A little smile crept around the edges of her mouth. He liked her spunk. Cindy saw that.

“No, I’m not. I’m saying there’s not enough here to start an investigation.”

“What else do I need?”

“Get me the original Coroner’s report,” Farnell said. “I want to see it firsthand. Get me a witness. Who found the body? Who collected evidence? What did they find? And what about the crime scene?”

Cindy’s mind was racing. She pulled out her pad and started taking notes.

“The crime scene was in the ocean,” she said, tears suddenly filling her eyes.

“How do you know?”

That stopped Cindy cold.

“What kind of evidence was collected? I need the exact condition of the body, what exactly was inside it or outside?

“I’d have to go back to Barbados to get those kinds of specifics,” she breathed.

“So, go,” he said.

The second he said it, a jolt raced through Cindy. She knew it was right. It felt right. Yes. Barbados. Of course. She had to go back.

Cindy felt nervous, but excited.

“Can I keep in touch with you?”

“Send me evidence if you get it, and I’ll take a look.

And as far as all of your theories about DGB and the sudden death of Greg…”

“Hamden,” Cindy said.

He wrote it down. “Hamden, right…well, I’m not promising anything, but I’ll look into it,” he relented.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Cindy said.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said. “Let’s see what you come up.”

Cindy stood.

“One more thing,” he added.

She stopped and turned.

“If there was some sort of cover up down there, you might be walking into the hornet’s nest. If the local police were paid off, if they had a hand in falsifying evidence, then don’t go looking to them for help.”

Cindy swallowed, nervous. She hadn’t thought of that.

“But then…” she began, “who can I turn to?”

“Just keep your head low, get what you need, and come back,” he said. “But if you find yourself in any kind of trouble, get to the U.S. Embassy. And call me from there.”

Cindy’s heart pounded in her chest, as she wondered how badly all of this could go.

Cindy raced home in Clint’s car, anxious to pack her things and catch the next plane she could to Barbados. The FBI agent was right: she’d never get the answers she really wanted unless she went back there. And no one else was going to do it for her. If she really wanted to solve this, to honor Clint’s life, if she really wanted to put this all to rest, she’d just have to go back.

The more she thought about it, The more she realized that this would also give her a chance to go back to where she and Clint had been so happy. She realized that a part of her had been longing for this—to be back in the place where they were happy, to be able to pick up where they’d left off.

She’d book a room in the same hotel, talk to the staff, see the Coroner, find out the exact condition of Clint’s body. All things she hadn’t been able to do before. She would go to the beach where he had gone surfing and tell him herself.

Cindy pulled into the driveway, anxious to get rolling and check the available flights. Excited, she ran to the door, opened it up and walked into the house.

A cold wave of fear gripped her.

The place was turned upside down. Tables were knocked over, a curtain torn, magazines scattered on the floor, her favorite vase smashed . Someone had broken in.

She ran into Clint’s study. All his files were gone - along with his computer.

Thank God she still had the thumb drive, and had left hard copies safe with the FBI.

She ran into the bedroom to see if her computer was gone too. She’d taken to keeping it under the bed, so she could reach for it in the middle of the night. Miraculously, it was still there.

Cindy immediately reached for the phone and called Officer Fenlen. To her great relief, he picked up.

“Someone broke into my house,” she told him immediately. “They grabbed all the files.”

Fenlen was quiet.

“I’m scared.”

“Call the local police. File a report. And get yourself to Barbados. I’ll inform the U.S. consulate that you’re coming. Stay in close touch.”

Cindy booked the first flight that was available, a late night flight that was half empty, and leaving that very night.

When she got to the airport, she felt as though she were going back in time. She and Clint had also taken a late night flight, that left right after the wedding.

“It went great, it went great,” he kept saying, his arms around her, kissing her.

“I never thought we’d have such a wonderful time. And our families were also happy. My father and your mother talked a long time. The band was better than I ever thought it would be. And did you see Al dancing?”

Cindy had smiled and smiled. She was exhausted but completely content. She now had all that she had ever wanted. She couldn’t wait to get to the beach and lay together on the sand, away from everyone.

As they’d boarded the plane, Clint kept talking and laughing. He was probably a little high, she’d thought, from all the champagne.

“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” he kept whispering in Cindy’s ear, over and over during the flight. It was as though he’d climbed Mt. Everest and finally reached the top.

Cindy wasn’t sure why he loved her so much, but was happy to hear it, able for the first time in her life, to take it in. She was sure they had a lifetime of trips like this ahead of them.