Jaden Skye: Death by Honeymoon

Laying there, she felt Clint’s spirit with her strongly. She hadn’t felt it so powerfully before and felt certain that he would guide her every step of the way.

As she lay there, Cindy went over all the things she wanted to do that day.

First she wanted to walk on the beach, retrace where it happened.

Then, she would go straight to the Coroner’s office to get the report. She needed details about the condition of Clint’s body. Up to now she hadn’t been able to bear even thinking about that. But here in Barbados, a strong energy filled her. She felt planted in nature, powerful and able to deal with anything.

Cindy closed her eyes and slept for a little while and then awoke, swiftly, upset with herself. She hadn’t meant to take a nap. The trip must have tired her out more than she thought. She checked her watch and jumped out of bed and headed right down to the beach.

Even this early in the day, the tides were in and the waves rolling roughly onto shore. Cindy loved the sound of the pounding turf. It cleared her mind and helped her see details she’d never seen before. She and Clint had run along this very beach together. It felt wonderful being here now. She ran faster and faster, in tune to the beat of the waves.

She stopped at the stretch of beach where she’d gone that day Clint died, the spot where his surfboard floated up. It had been a day pretty much like this one, only the surf had been calmer. Cindy stood there looking out at the ocean and gazing around on the beach. There was nothing there that said that a man’s life had been cut short at this spot. That the surf had swallowed him up. As if nothing had happened, the waves simply rolled on.

Farnell’s questions came to mind. How did she know Clint died at this spot? His surfboard had floated up here, but that didn’t prove anything . It was a waste of time to stand here wondering. She had to get to the Coroner’s office, see the report for herself, get the facts.

Cindy broke into a run back. As she ran, she realized how much of this amazing life she’d been blind to. She’d lived in a tiny corner of the world with familiar people and situations. There was no way she could go back to living like that. It was time to open her eyes and go deeper into the island and what it had done to the man she’d loved.

Cindy rented a car and drove herself to the Coroner’s office in town. It took a little while to get used to driving here, on the left side of the road.

It was about a two mile drive along a winding road. The Coroner’s office was a three story building in the Center of town, surrounded by some other small buildings, painted white.

Cindy parked and got out.

Little pebbles were scattered along the main pathway and toads scampered here and there. Cindy entered the building and asked a man who sat on a stool where the Coroner’s office was. He barely took notice of her, just pointed straight down the hall. “Wait a few minutes. The secretary’s on a break . Wait over there and I’ll call you when she comes back.”

He motioned to a small waiting alcove with wooden benches.

Cindy went over and sat down. There was a rickety grandfather’s clock standing in it and little tables near the benches with brochures about Barbados and all kinds of articles. There was also a big fan in the corner, whirring, cooling those who came here to wait. Cindy picked up one of the brochures and read.

Three surfers bobbed in the water as a 15 foot swell rolled in on the East Coast of Barbados. One of the surfers paddled into it, snapped to his feet and rode the wave, millions of gallons of the ocean’s energy barreling him forward. He sped left, flipped right, then crouched down and held the sides of his board, launching himself five feet off the crest. He flew, spinning into the air, and landed with perfect ease on the wave, as it settled back down and drove into shore.

Clint had done things like this many times, had described the thrill of it to her, over and over. What went wrong with the wave he caught? Was there really a sudden riptide? Cindy was seized by a desire to read every single word that was written about Clint and how he died. There had to be some articles in the local papers. She made a note to check that out today.

Then she noticed another small brochure on the table next to her, a travel guide from a consulate in another country. Someone had left it there. An item caught her eye.

Visitor, sexually assaulted at knife point, life threatened and robbed in the middle of the day .

The police were indifferent. Locals outside of the tourist business confided that this was not surprising. She also read a consulate travel advisory warning of rape of tourists and increase in violent crime.

Cindy felt jarred. She’d had no idea about this, nor had she checked her consulate’s travel warnings. She folded up the brochure and stuck it into her purse. Every scrap of evidence added to the picture.

The guy that had originally told her to wait came over, and pointed to a door down the hall. The secretary had returned from her break.

Cindy went to the door, opened it and walked in. There were only a few people milling around.

A lovely woman with sparkling eyes and pearl white teeth greeted her at the main desk.

“Welcome to Barbados,” she smiled, incongruently. She seemed to take an instant liking to Cindy.

“I need a little information,” Cindy said to the woman.

“Of course, dear, anything,” the woman said.

“I’m looking for the original Coroner’s report about my husband’s death.”

The woman looked up at her. “Oh my!”

“It happened a few months ago,” Cindy said.

The woman shook her head. “I’m so sorry. Happened in Barbados?”

Cindy nodded.

“And to such a young woman.”

The woman sighed. “Only God knows why he takes our loved ones from us.”

Cindy wanted to stay on track. “The report we have in the US is a summary. It says accidental death, by drowning. I need more details.”

The woman shook her head back and forth. “So much pain for such a beautiful young woman, like you.”

Cindy was becoming frustrated. “I need more information about the investigation.”

The woman shook her head again.

“What do you mean investigation? An accident is an accident. What is there to investigate? The surf can be dangerous on the East Coast. An investigation takes a long time here. First we have an inquest -” she sighed .

“I want the full Coroner’s report.” Cindy said more forcefully.

“We don’t just release that.”

“I just want to read it. You can make a copy of it. That’s all I want.”

“Yes, yes, I understand. But, we’re very busy right now.”

Cindy looked around. They didn’t seem busy at all.

“It’ll just take a minute. Isn’t there some file with the reports?” she said.

“Of course there is a file,” the woman said, “but you can’t just come in and see it. We’d need identification and things like that.”

“I have identification,” Cindy said. “I came all the way from the United States alone to see the report.”

The woman’s eyes opened wide. “Alone?” That seemed to get to her. “Are you asking for an inquest?”

“No, I’m not,” Cindy said. “I just want to compare your report and the one we have. See if we might have missed something.”

“An inquest can take a couple of years,” the woman said as if reading from a form. “We have to line up the witnesses, collect testimonies. The Coroner listens to the evidence.”

Clearly, she wanted to discourage Cindy, send her away. That was her job. Those were her instructions. Cindy had to get around it.

“ I don’t want an inquest,” Cindy repeated. “Believe me.”