Native Affairs Page 8

  “Is that all you can say?” Cindy challenged him.

  He met her eyes. “No, that’s not all. I thought the time with you today was too important to miss, and that’s why I said nothing about my... mishap. I figured you’d react just like this.”

  Cindy dropped her eyes. She was only beginning to realize how dangerous his lifestyle was.

  “Does this sort of thing happen often?” she asked in a small voice.

  “Now and then,” he said vaguely, picking up the hamper and setting it aside, shaking out the tablecloth. She bent to help him, and he caught her hand.

  “Cindy, I want to ask you something.”

  She waited.

  “About what happened before, you don’t think I brought you here to... seduce you, do you?”

  She met his gaze squarely. “No, Drew, I never thought that.”

  His relief was only partial. “I just wanted you to see my special place, that’s all. I know that it’s secluded, but I honestly wasn’t thinking about getting you alone or anything.”

  His insistence was almost ingenuous, and she smiled. “Forget it, Drew. Now can we get this show on the road before the ants eat my ankles?”

  He nodded, unsmiling, and they packed up to go.

  Fox was silent on the way back to the truck, and Cindy wondered what he was thinking. There were no cute remarks about the wildlife underfoot or killer fish. Cindy missed the teasing banter, but his demeanor was serious and it didn’t look like it was going to change. When he handed her into the truck she smiled at him, and he didn’t smile back.

  The drive home seemed to pass in a blur of sunstruck palms and roadside stands. By the time they reached Paula’s apartment Cindy was convinced he was going to tell her that they shouldn’t see each other again. And why not? Other women didn’t refuse him; they didn’t make him work so hard. Cindy had heard enough from Paula to understand that, but she also knew that she couldn’t change her personality to suit his expectations. She was sitting in wordless misery, her hands folded in her lap like a grade schooler about to get a scolding, when Fox pulled into a parking place and shut off the motor.

  “I’ll take you up,” he said briefly, and walked at her side up the two sets of stairs, a trip that took an eternity. When they came to a halt outside Paula’s door, Cindy took a deep breath and looked into his eyes.

  “Thank you for my lovely day, Drew,” she said, making a brave attempt to finish everything gracefully.

  He stared at her for a second, and then, with a sound like a broken sigh, he cupped her face in his hands.

  “What a well brought up young lady you are,” he said quietly, rubbing his thumbs gently over her lower lip. “You look like you’re about to cry, and yet you’re able to say the right thing. Come on, princess, the last part of it wasn’t so lovely.”

  “It was too lovely, Drew. That was the problem.”

  He closed his eyes, and it was several seconds before he replied. “Cindy, your honesty is going to get both of us into trouble,” he said huskily, closing her lips with his fingers. “Don’t you know women aren’t supposed to make admissions like that?”

  “Why not, if it’s the truth.” She turned her head, avoiding his touch. “I didn’t want you to think that what happened was your fault.”

  He grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him. “You’re not mad at me, then?” he asked, searching her face.

  “No, of course not. Did you think I was?”

  He dropped his eyes. “I wasn’t sure. You’re always so polite. I thought maybe you were just toughing it out until you got home.” He shrugged. “Even if you did think the worst of me I figured you’d never tell me.”

  “But what about my famous honesty?” she asked, and he shook his head.

  “It would take a back seat to sparing my feelings, though, wouldn’t it?” he answered, and she permitted herself a slight nod.

  “Thought so.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Now, with that behind us, can we start over?”

  “By all means.”

  He grinned, his first real smile since she woke him up at the beach. “Okay. I have to go down to the DA’s office to give a deposition, but it should only take an hour or so. Why don’t you change clothes and I’ll pick you up later. We can go someplace nice for dinner.”

  “Drew, I can’t. I promised Paula I would stay here tonight and monitor the phone.”

  He looked annoyed. “Doesn’t she have an answering machine?”

  Cindy shook her head. “That’s not the point. She’s an assistant manager of the complex, and she’s paid to have a real person on duty to respond to real emergencies.”

  “Then why isn’t she doing it?”

  “She has to work. Come on, Drew, I’m doing her a favor. You can understand that.”

  His expression grudging, he said, “I guess so.” He smiled dryly. “You can see that I don’t like anything to interfere with my plans.” He brightened. “I know. I’ll get some take-out stuff and bring it back here for us.”

  Cindy didn’t reply.

  He read her silence correctly. “No good, huh?” He eyed her intently. “Afraid to be alone with me?”

  “No, Drew, that’s not it. It’s Paula’s place and I don’t think it would be right for me to have company here when she’s not home.”

  Fox rolled his eyes. “You take this Miss Manners thing too seriously, do you know that?”

  She was about to protest when he raised his hand, forestalling her. “All right, all right. Far be it for me to question your judgment on etiquette, though I think Paula is the last person on earth who would care.”

  “I’d care,” Cindy said, and he relented.

  “I’ll call you later, okay?” he said softly, stroking her hair.

  “Okay,” she said, and then touched his arm. He studied her, waiting for the question he could sense was coming.

  “Drew, why do you have to give a deposition on a Saturday night? Is it an emergency or something?”

  He looked as though he regretted bringing it up. “Sort of,” he hedged.

  “What does that mean?”

  He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. It was a gesture of resignation, and she knew that he was about to tell her.

  “You know that guy who gave me this?” he said, pointing to his taped ribs.

  She nodded mutely.

  “Well, I tracked him down in a bar, and when I tried to pick him up he created kind of a ruckus. He came at me with a broken beer bottle, but somebody got in the way and took the cut instead. I have to give my version of what happened and swear to it.”

  Cindy licked her lips, which were suddenly dry. “Drew, that could have been you.”

  “It wasn’t,” he said firmly. “It wasn’t me, and I don’t want you to think about it anymore.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll be able to follow those orders,” she replied, looking away from him.

  The phone rang inside the apartment, and Cindy quickly unlocked the door. “I have to get that,” she said, glancing back at Fox.

  He leaned forward and kissed her briefly on the forehead. “Go ahead,” he answered. “I’ll call you later,” he repeated.

  She left the door ajar, and she heard him whistling as he walked away.

  * * * *

  He didn’t call. All that evening, every time the phone rang, Cindy was sure it was Fox. But she heard from three tenants, Paula’s aunt, and her own mother, everyone but the person she most wanted to be on the other end of the line. As it got later, she began to worry. What could have happened to him? She knew that he would have kept his word if it were possible, and the only conclusion she could come to was that something was wrong.

  Paula returned from the hospital around eleven-thirty, so exhausted from her double shift that she didn’t pause for conversation but just stumbled into bed. Cindy fretted for another hour and a half, and then went to bed, certain that she would not be able to sleep. She had pulled the phone with
its long extension cord into her room, and she drifted in and out of a fitful doze, waiting for it to ring.

  When it finally did, she jumped up so suddenly that she knocked over the lamp on her bedside table reaching for the receiver. She winced as it crashed into the wall, and then plunged to the floor, making enough noise to wake Paula, and possibly several of her deceased relatives.

  After scrabbling for the receiver in the dark, Cindy lifted it to her mouth and said, “Drew?”

  ‘‘Yeah, it’s me.” He sounded very tired.

  “Drew, what happened? Where are you? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. I’m at the county jail.”

  Her heart missed a beat. “You haven’t been arrested?”

  “No, no. Although it would hardly surprise anyone if I had been.” He paused, and she heard a deep inhalation. He was smoking.

  “I got held up after I gave the deposition,” he explained. “The assistant DA who took it brought me over here to look at a lineup. A jumper I caught a few years ago got out on parole and killed a woman. He was using an assumed name, and I had to identify him as the person I returned to custody, and the victim’s daughter had to identify him as the guy she saw leaving her mother’s house.” He didn’t say the experience had been harrowing, but she could hear it in his drained, toneless delivery.

  “Killed,” Cindy repeated. “He killed a woman?”

  “That’s what the prosecutor thinks,” Fox replied. “And from what I know of the guy I certainly wouldn’t put it past him.”

  There was a brief knock, and then Cindy’s door opened. Paula entered the room, wearing two ounces of lace lingerie and a pained expression.

  “What broke?” she demanded. “I heard a noise.”

  “Just a second,” Cindy said into the phone, and then covered the mouthpiece.

  “The lamp fell,” Cindy replied to Paula, “but it didn’t break. I’m sorry. I knocked it over in the dark.”

  Paula, her shadowy form outlined by the hall light behind her, folded her arms. “Who’s that on the phone? As if I didn’t know.”

  “It’s Drew,” Cindy answered patiently.

  “Somebody ought to buy that guy a watch,” Paula stated irritably and slammed Cindy’s door behind her.

  “I guess Paula heard the phone,” Fox said when she got back on the line.

  “Yes,” Cindy said, not going into the rest of it.

  “Look, I’m sorry I woke both of you up. I just got involved and the time sped by. It wasn’t until later that I realized you might be worried when you didn’t hear from me.”

  “I was worried. I couldn’t sleep.”

  “It was only a phone call, Cindy. It wasn’t like we had a date firmed up and I missed it.”

  Cindy was silent. Was he chastising her, asserting his independence?

  “You still there?” he asked, his tone lighter.

  “I’m still here.”

  “All right,” he said. “I’m a jerk. I’m not used to anybody worrying about me, that’s all. I really was tied up with the police until a few minutes ago. I would have waited until morning to get in touch but I’ll be gone by then.”

  “Gone?” she repeated faintly, her spirits sinking further.

  “Yeah, I have to drive up to Alabama for an extradition hearing. The state police just located the guy and it’s set for first thing Monday morning. I can’t get a flight in time so I have to take my car. The town is a long distance from the nearest airport and it’s actually faster to drive.”

  “Drew, you can’t drive. You’ve had no sleep for two nights running,” she said, distracted by visions of him gliding onto off ramps and into telephone poles.

  “Cindy, I have to get there. Unless this creep is extradited to Georgia he’ll get away with defrauding a bunch of old people in his nursing homes of all their retirement funds. He fled jurisdiction when the feds caught on to him, and I want to make sure he is punished for it.”

  Cindy took a breath. “Drew, is your life always like this?” she asked him.

  “Pretty much,” he answered. “I’m not exactly what you’d call reliable.” He paused. “But I guess you’ve gathered that.”

  “When will you be back?”

  “I don’t know. It could be over fast, with just the hearing, or it could take several days.”

  She didn’t know how to handle it. How could she press him for information he didn’t have?

  “Cindy,” he said, “you’ll hear from me. I don’t know when, but you will.”

  “Okay, Drew.” What else could she say?

  “Cindy?”

  “Hmm?”

  “It’s nice that you care what happens to me. I like that.” A smile came into his voice. “Look for me...”

  “Yes, I know. When the sun goes down.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  “Drew, be careful. Take care of yourself.”

  “I will. Goodbye, princess.”

  “Goodbye.”

  Cindy hung up, falling back on the pillows. She glanced at the lamp which lay in a heap, its shade askew, on the rug. Automatically, she got out of bed and righted it, standing it back on the table.

  Could she take this? Could she take Fox’s lifestyle, the pattern of leaving at a moment’s notice with no set time of return? He was going off into danger every time he left, and no amount of rationalizing could dismiss that fact.

  Cindy shook her head and climbed back into bed. It appeared that she was going to find out if she could live with his precarious adventures.

  Because whether she liked it or not, she was falling in love with Andrew Fox.

  Chapter 6

  Five days later Cindy was seated on the floor of Paula’s living room with a stack of index cards. She was methodically sorting the cards and then clipping them to the typed pages they outlined. A casual observer witnessing her apparent concentration would not have guessed her inner turmoil.

  Paula entered the room and displayed her hand like a model on television selling dishwashing lotion. “How do you like it?” she asked. “Mango frappe.”

  Cindy glanced at the iridescent orange nail polish and nodded. “It’s very... shiny.”

  “Not to mention seductive, long wearing, and non chip,” Paula added dryly, quoting from the sales copy.

  She watched Cindy bite the cap of her pen, holding it between her teeth and nibbling at it like a ferret.

  “Is that what you do instead of smoking?” she asked.

  Cindy looked at her uncomprehendingly. “What?”

  “Never mind. I take it you haven’t heard from him.”

  Cindy shook her head.

  “You have nothing to add?” Paula probed.

  Cindy shrugged. “What is there to say? I have no claim on him; he doesn’t have to report to me daily as if I were his mother. He said I would hear from him, and I will. Eventually.”

  “How very mature,” Paula said. “And how understanding. Everyone knows there are no phones in Georgia. Or post offices or Western Union operators.”

  Cindy threw her a dirty look.

  “I know, I know,” Paula said, holding up her hand. “But if you ask me, he’s using this trip to put emotional distance between you.”

  “Nobody asked you,” Cindy pointed out.

  “Has that ever stopped me from offering an opinion before?” Paula asked rhetorically.

  Cindy sighed and uncoiled her legs, stretching them. “Paula, look at it logically. As of this moment, I have been out with him twice, only once on an actual date. Why should he feel compelled to keep me posted on his every move? I believe that he’ll call me when he gets back, and that’s sufficient.”

  Paula nodded patiently. “All that sounds wonderful, but I happen to know that you haven’t eaten a square meal since he left. You may be convincing yourself with your splendid reasoning but I’m not buying it.”

  “Then don’t,” Cindy said shortly, getting up. “Go back into your bedroom and frappe your toenails.”

&nbs
p; “Oh, oh,” Paula said. “Getting a little miffed, are we?”

  Cindy put her hands on her hips and stared her down. “I’m getting a little miffed, yes. Your attitude toward Fox changes with the light. One minute you’re wishing me luck and urging me onward, and the next you’re making wisecracks about his disappearing act. What’s going on, Paula? Are you trying to drive me crazy?”

  Paula considered that. “Okay, you’re right. I am vacillating about this whole thing. Sometimes when I see how happy you are with him, I want it to work out and I encourage you. Then, at other times, I remember what he used to be like…” She left the sentence unfinished for Cindy to draw her own conclusions.

  “People can change,” Cindy said. “They grow up and different things become important to them.”

  “Possibly,” Paula said, her tone unconvinced.

  “Definitely,” Cindy confirmed. “Now go back to your manicure and let me get this work done.” She sat back down and started shuffling papers.

  “I guess I know when I’m not wanted.” Paula sniffed and marched out of the room.

  Cindy looked up after she’d gone, and her expression was thoughtful.

  * * * *

  The next afternoon Cindy was sitting at a table in the back of the reference room when a long shadow fell across the page she was reading. She glanced up and Fox was towering over her, his expression wary, as if he were unsure of the reception he was going to get.

  “Hi,” he said. “I’m back.”

  Cindy smiled. “Hello, Drew. I’m glad to see you.”

  “Yeah?” he said, tilting his head to one side and looking at her askance.

  “Of course. How did the trip go?”

  He pulled out a chair and turned it around, seat forward. Lifting one leg over the back of it, he dropped into it.

  “Fine,” he replied, folding his arms across the top of the ladderback. “We put that guy away where he’ll never cheat anybody again.”

  “That’s good,” she said, closing her book carefully. She couldn’t help comparing this return with his previous one, when he’d opened his arms and she had run into them. But that was before the lake, before they both realized how much was at stake.