Native Affairs (17 page)

“I think he likes it,” Cindy murmured, more to herself than to him.

“Beg pardon?” Dr. Markel said.

“He likes the danger, the excitement. Not knowing what’s going to happen from day to day.”

The doctor shook his head. “I don’t understand that.”

“Neither do I. But that’s what makes him different from you and me.”

“From most people, I would guess,” Dr. Markel said practically. He folded his arms and surveyed her critically. “Now our usual discharge hours are in the morning, but if you’ll sign yourself out, I’ll let you go as soon as you can pack your things. You’ll need a ride home.”

“I’ll call Paula,” Cindy said, reaching for the bedside phone.

The doctor headed for the door. On his way out he paused and said, “Miss Warren? Good luck with your adventurous friend.”

Cindy nodded and picked up the phone.

* * * *

Cindy had almost managed to convince herself that there was some mistake, until she called the hospital the following day and was told that Fox still would not see her.

Paula entered the room as she was replacing the receiver.

“No change?” Paula asked.

Cindy shook her head.

Paula sighed. “Well, I was hoping things would improve, but since they haven’t I might as well give you this now.” She went to the coat closet and returned with a large gift box. “This came for you while you were still in the hospital. It’s from him.”

Cindy stared at the package. “How do you know?”

“I saw the receipt when it came. His name was on it, he ordered it by phone.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know,” Paula said, annoyed. “I didn’t open it.”

Cindy took the box and undid the cord, pushing aside the layers of tissue paper after she removed the lid. It contained a cornflower blue dress, just right color for her dark hair and light eyes, in her exact size. There was a card enclosed. She slit the envelope with her fingernail. Inside, on a plain white background, was the drawing of a tiny fox face.

She showed it to Paula. “Why would he be sending me a dress?”

Paula shrugged. “I guess to replace the clothes you were wearing when you were attacked. Fox’s blood got all over them. Didn’t you realize that you were discharged in the things I had brought you?”

Cindy had been so disturbed by Fox’s refusal to see her that she hadn’t noticed what she was wearing.

“He must have had the delivery man stop by the hospital so he could insert the card,” Paula mused.

The more Cindy thought about the gift the angrier she got. “Paula, do you know what this is?” she asked, her mouth a tight line.

“A dress?” Paula said, stating the obvious.

“No. This is goodbye, the kiss off, the statement of farewell. He has decided for some reason or other that he doesn’t want to see me again, and this little item is supposed to do the trick.”

“Well,” Paula began hesitantly, “maybe it would be best, in view of what’s happened, just to let it go....”

Cindy threw the box across the room.

“I guess not,” Paula amended quickly.

“The coward!” Cindy spat. “Well, they have to discharge him sooner or later. He can’t avoid me forever.”

Paula picked up the dress box and set it on a chair.

“If he wants to say goodbye he’ll have to do it to my face,” Cindy said furiously. “When he gets out of the hospital I’ll track him down and strangle him with that bloody dress!”

Paula waited until Cindy had stalked down the hall and into her bedroom. Then she sank onto the sofa and closed her eyes.

Who would have thought that shy, bookish Lucinda had it in her?

* * * *

Fox was discharged from the hospital the next morning. As soon as Cindy got word of his release from the information desk, she took Paula’s car keys and left her a note. Paula had worked the night before and was still sleeping.

Cindy drove to Fox’s condominium with a lot on her mind, the least of which was Dr. Markel’s warning about driving. She didn’t seem to be experiencing the dizziness or blurring of vision that he had discussed, so she forged ahead, more concerned about her showdown with her lover than the state of her health.

Next to her on the passenger seat was the box containing the blue dress. She eyed it as if it were a toad. He was going to be very sorry he ever came up with the idea of sending it.

She walked through the rarefied air of the lobby in Fox’s building as if she belonged there. Luckily the security guard remembered her from her previous visits and waved her on. Cindy was working herself into fine mettle as she ascended to the fourth floor, and she rang the bell with the dress box under her arm like a crossbow.

A middle-aged woman answered the door. Startled, Cindy stammered that she wanted to see Mr. Fox.

“I’m the cleaning lady,” the woman answered. “Mrs. Hallam, just hired last week. Mr. Fox ordered up a whole houseful of new furniture and then discovered that it has to be dusted.” She chuckled at her own joke.

Cindy smiled wanly. “Yes, I know. Could you tell him that I’m here and would like to see him? My name is Cindy Warren.”

“Oh, he’s not at home,” Mrs. Hallam said, shaking out her dust rag. “I’ll be happy to leave a message.”

“Not at home?” Cindy said. “He was just discharged from the hospital this morning.”

“Huh,” Mrs. Hallam said disgustedly. “You didn’t think that would nail his feet to the floor, did you? He no sooner marched in here than he marched out again, still wearing a sling on that bad arm.”
 

“Do you know where he went?”
 

Mrs. Hallam looked her over suspiciously. “I don’t know if I should say.”

“Please, Mrs. Hallam. It’s very important. I really have to see him today.”

“Are you the little lady who picked out all this stuff?” Mrs. Hallam asked, gesturing expansively at the apartment behind her. “Mr. Fox talked about that.”
 

“Yes, I am.”

Mrs. Hallam nodded. “He told me he was going out to that property his uncle owns at some lake. Do you know where it is?”

“Thank you, yes, I do. I really appreciate the information. It was nice meeting you. Goodbye.” Cindy was off down the hall again instantly, leaving Mrs. Hallam to stare after her, shaking her head.

The drive to the lake seemed to take much longer than it had when she was with Fox, and she got lost once when she took a wrong turn. She hadn’t been paying much attention to the route on her previous trip. But she recognized the scenery on the road to Eli’s house, and as she passed it she remembered his invitation to come and see him. It looked like she never would.

She continued down the road, and it wasn’t long before she saw Fox’s pickup in the distance. She pulled up behind it and got out of the car, lifting the dress box into her arms again. She was really tired of carrying it around with her like a cardboard albatross, but it appeared that she would be relieved of her burden soon. She heard a series of reports, sounding very loud in the wooded stillness. They continued, getting louder as she picked her way through the trees toward the shore of the lake. When she broke through the ground cover and into the clearing, she saw Fox about two hundred feet ahead of her, firing a gun.

He was taking target practice. He had set up a makeshift fence along the water, and was methodically shooting beer bottles off it into the dirt. His stance didn’t waver and he didn’t look at her. He never missed. Cindy watched him undetected for a while, and then when he paused to set up new targets she called out to him. He spun around and stared at her, waiting silently as she walked across the grassy shore to his side. He didn’t say a word.

“Hello, Drew,” Cindy said when she reached him, with a calmness that surprised her. “How are you feeling?”

“Stabbed,” he said shortly, and she smiled thinly.
 

“I see that. I like your sling. It gives you a decidedly piratical air.”

“You mean more than usual?” he responded, and then added, “How did you find me?”

“I went to your place and your cleaning lady told me where you were. Does your doctor know you’re out here doing this?”

“My doctor doesn’t know a stethoscope from a stapler.”

He obviously wasn’t going to make this easy for her, so she decided to get it over with as quickly as possible. “I came to return this to you,” she said flatly, and extended the box toward him.

He looked at it, then at her, making no move to take it. She bent and set it on the ground.

He watched her, rubbing his cheek with the back of his uninjured arm, the gun dangling loosely from his fingers.

Cindy shuddered. “Would you mind not waving that thing in my face?” she said sharply. “I hate guns.”

Fox tucked it into the waistband of his pants. “So do I, but I find it necessary to be proficient with them in my line of work.” He waited a couple of beats and then said, “Why don’t you want the dress?”

“I prefer memories over material things,” she said simply, and she saw the impact of her statement hit him.

“Are you all right?” he asked tightly.

“I am, although you would have no way of knowing it.”

His eyes flashed. “I was in touch with that Dr. Markel the whole time you were in the hospital!” he said angrily. “Right up until the minute you were discharged.”

“Why wouldn’t you see me while you were there?” she flared back at him.

He looked away from her. “I thought it best to leave you alone. You were hurt twice because of me; I’m obviously not good for your health.”

“I see. And it never occurred to you that I might be worried about you, that I might want to see for myself that you were okay?”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m sorry, Cindy. I’m sorry about all of it.”

“
All
of it?” she asked, emphasizing the first word.

He knew exactly what she meant. “All of it,” he repeated. “Getting involved with me was a mistake. Next time you might not be so lucky. Next time you might wind up in the morgue.”

His voice was so cold, so distant, that it was hard for her to believe this was the same man who had made such passionate love to her only a few days before.

“All right, Drew,” Cindy said. “I can’t say I’m surprised. This is precisely the reaction I thought I would get from you. I know you very well, I find. I can predict your moods like the rising of the sun.”

He looked at her then, his light eyes measuring, wondering whether she would make a scene.

“I’m going,” she announced. “But before I do I want to say something to you, and I want you to listen.”

He didn’t move, and his expression didn’t change.

“I’m sure you’ve convinced yourself that you have the noblest of motives in sending me away. You can tell yourself that you’re protecting me, and you may actually believe that. You can tell yourself that it’s because of your parents and believe that’s valid too. But the truth is you’re scared.”

He straightened slightly, and his lips parted.

“I’ve gotten to you, haven’t I, and that frightens you. Everybody told me how you acted when you thought I was really hurt, and that behavior doesn’t lie. You care about me, and you were wild when you thought something bad had happened to me. Now that you know I’m okay you’re pulling back from that and running in the other direction.”

He lifted one shoulder slightly. “You can think that if it makes you feel better,” he said evenly.

She shook her head. “Such a tough guy. You forget who you’re talking to, Drew. I know you, remember?”

“You don’t know anything about me,” he replied.

“Don’t I? You dashed back here to your childhood hangout to play with your little gun because it was easier than facing the feelings you have for me. Physically, you’re ready to take on anything and anybody, but emotional intimacy terrifies you.”

He didn’t answer, his jaw clenched so tightly that the little muscles along its edge were jumping wildly.

Cindy sighed with resignation. “I’ve tried, Drew. I can’t try any more. I love you, but I have had enough. Goodbye.”

She turned her back and walked toward the trees.

He made no attempt to follow her.

Chapter 9

Five days later Cindy was in the guest room packing to go home when Paula knocked on her door.

“Come in,” Cindy called.

Paula entered, still in uniform, unpinning her hair from its severe workday style. “I saw your foxy friend this afternoon,” she announced without preliminary.

Cindy looked up from folding a sweater into the suitcase set out on the bed.

“He stopped by the outpatient clinic for a checkup on his arm,” Paula said. “I ran into him in the hall.”

“Is he all right?” Cindy asked.

“He’s fine, Cindy. Stop worrying. It’ll take a silver bullet to finish him.”

“You’re not amusing me, Paula,” Cindy said. She tucked a set of underwear into the liner pocket. “I hope you behaved yourself.” She shot Paula a measuring glance.