“Thank God, thank God you’re,” she said as Owen patted her on her back.

“It’s okay now, Isabelle, it’s okay,” Owen said, “we’ll make it through.”

“That horrible woman, that horrible nurse,” Isabelle responded. “I didn’t like her from the minute I saw her. I never trusted her.”

“Alana was a problem from the start,” Owen agreed.

“She flung herself at you, didn’t she, Owen?” Isabelle demanded.

“She was half crazed,” Owen said softly, “lots of the help down here are.”

“I didn’t see anything wrong with that nurse,” Ralph cut in. “You don’t trust anyone, Isabelle,” and he threw Owen a strange, side glance. “What about you, who do you trust, Owen?”

“Owen paid no attention to Ralph’s comment. “I kept urging the police to investigate her,” he went on. “Why did it take so long?”

But Ralph wouldn’t let it go. “What did she do? I never saw her fling herself at you!”

Owen smiled sadly then. “Alana was preoccupied most of the time and eager for the case to be over. Once she even said to me, this can’t go on forever. It’s not fair to your wife, stringing her out like this between life and death.”

“She had her right to believe that,” Ralph barked.

“She was unprofessional,” Owen insisted.

“So, why did you keep her on then?” Ralph’s face grew red.

Owen brushed his hands through his well-coiffed hair. “It wasn’t as if we had so many other choices,” he mumbled. “My entire attention had to go to Tara, not to finding new nurses or aides.”

“And why are you so upset about it, Ralph?” Isabelle jumped in. “You agreed that Tara would be better off gone than in a coma for such a long time.”

“Yes, I thought so,” Ralph replied. “But that was our decision to make, not some nurse.”

“Who said Alana made the decision?” Jenna, Tara’s sister, joined the conversation swiftly. “Who knows who egged Alana on?”

“That’s what I think,” Owen shot back. “If you ask me, it looks more and more like the hospital was involved. But Alana was part it anyway, no question about it.”

“The hospital wasn’t involved,” a raspy voice uttered as Loretta suddenly entered the room.

Cindy was stunned to see her, thought she had left Jamaica ago. Loretta still stood apart from the family, glaring at everyone.

“Come in Loretta,” Ralph tried to welcome her.

Loretta would have none of it though. “I’m in,” she quipped nastily, “I don’t have to be invited. I belong here, too. After all, it’s my mother who’s just been killed.”

A strange silence filled the room as Loretta walked in further and sidled over to Cindy and Mattheus.

“I’m sure Cindy and Mattheus know more about the case than anyone here,” Loretta continued. “Why don’t we take some time to hear from them? I’m curious if they think that Alana did it?” Then Loretta turned to Cindy, challenging her.

“I don’t know who did it,” said Cindy, honestly.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Owen was miffed. “Face it, Alana wouldn’t have jumped off the bridge if she wasn’t escaping a fate much worse than being arrested. She was in big trouble and she knew it. Life in jail probably.”

“We don’t know why she jumped,” Cindy repeated. “There’s no specific evidence.”

“Well, Cindy’s not the judge and jury in this case anyway,” Owen declared. “She’s a hired hand, a freelance detective.”

“What do you think, Loretta?” Mattheus asked, trying to deflect Owen’s burst of anger and turning towards the young woman who looked just as gaunt as she had before.

Loretta wouldn’t answer though, just stared with malice at Owen.

“How about it?” Mattheus repeated, more emphatically.

“I think my mother didn’t plan to die,” Loretta replied.

“No one plans to die,” Ralph made a sour face. “That’s a stupid thing to say.”

“Some people plan to die,” quipped Loretta, “Alana did. She went right to the bridge, had a destination.”

“Are you trying to tell us something, Loretta? Are you warning us of something?” Isabelle addressed her granddaughter nervously.

At that Loretta smiled openly. “You think I’m planning to jump? I’m not. You won’t get rid of me that easily. You don’t understand me and never will. Whatever I say, you think the worst. I’ve accepted that, Isabelle.”

“Don’t call me Isabelle,” her grandmother flushed.

“Answer your grandmother with respect, young lady,” Ralph became irate.

Owen walked over to Loretta, clearly wanting to defuse the situation.

“There’s no reason to be so bitter forever,” Owen said quietly. “I’m sure your mother would have wanted me to give you a decent inheritance dear, and I plan to.”

Loretta’s face became gnarled. “I wouldn’t take a penny from any of you,” she shot back. “That’s not what I’m here for.”

“What are you here for?” Ralph’s voice got louder.

“To get justice for my mother,” Loretta’s voice rose.

“The person who killed your mother has lost her own life,” Isabelle interceded. “Justice has been served.”

“It’s been served, Loretta,” Owen insisted, “let it go.”

Loretta spun around then, slunk to the back of the room, and planted herself down on a round, swivel chair. Then she started drumming her fingers along the edges of it.

“Well,” Mattheus took charge then, speaking to the entire group, “Cindy and I just wanted to make a final call to wish the family and Owen well.”

Owen came up and put his arm around Mattheus. “You two did a great job,” he repeated, “I’ll be eternally grateful to both of you. You kept the pressure up, smoked out the culprits.”

Mattheus nodded at him. “Thank you.”

“What’s next for the two of you?” Owen asked pleasantly then.

“Cindy and I will be leaving for the airport first thing tomorrow,” said Mattheus. “I’m glad this worked out well for you, Owen.”

“It has, thanks again,” Owen replied.

It worked out well? Owen’s comment bothered Cindy. How could it have worked out well when his wife had died? Didn’t he realize that he was returning home without her?

After a few more pleasantries, Cindy and Mattheus walked to the door and Loretta immediately dashed up behind them.

“Give me your number, please,” Loretta said to Cindy. “This minute.”

“Of course,” said Cindy, nervously. “Would you like to talk now, before we go to the hotel?”

“No, later’s better,” said Loretta. “I want to talk when we can be alone.”

*

A heavy silence fell between Cindy and Mattheus as they got into a taxi to go back to the hotel and make arrangements to leave Jamaica.

“If you want to know the truth,” Mattheus finally admitted as the taxi pulled away, “I can’t wait to get out of here and for us to finally be alone.”

Cindy nodded, distracted.

“I’ll make reservations on the first plane out of here. We can head wherever you like,” Mattheus went on.

That sounded tempting, “a little vacation?” Cindy asked, halfheartedly.

“Precisely,” Mattheus replied, delighted.

Cindy wished she could have felt delighted as well, but something was nagging at her, wouldn’t let go.

“Okay, what’s wrong? Let’s have it,” said Mattheus, picking up her mood. There was nothing Cindy could hide from him, ever.

“Let’s stay here a few days more,” Cindy suggested.

“Why?” Mattheus bristled, “the case is over. It’s wrapped up.”

“And what if it isn’t?” asked Cindy.

“What are you talking about?” Mattheus was uneasy. “Case closed. Wrapped up.”

“I’m not ready to leave,” Cindy insisted. “Something’s unfinished, it’s bothering me.”

“Cindy,” Mattheus took her shoulders and pulled her to him. “That’s just your nature. You always feel there’s one last thing you’ve left undone. But this is it. We’re finished. They’ve released our client. I’m calling for airline tickets the second we return.”

“No, not yet, I can’t do it,” cried Cindy.

“If you want we can even go back to the States for a while,” Mattheus pleaded. “We can visit the cottage you have in Oyster Bay. I’ve always wanted to see it.”