Despite the warm, humid weather, when Cindy arrived back at the hotel, she felt chilled to the bone. The lecture had impacted upon her in more ways than one. The sight of the women who lived there, trailing out of the auditorium after the lecture was devastating. Many of them looked forlorn and abandoned. A few tried to be positive.
Barbara had introduced her briefly to some of the women, who seemed surprised when they found out who she was. Each had something good to say about Shelly, and how disturbed they were about her death. There was nothing she did to deserve it, they said again and again. The senseless killing reminded them of their own situation and frightened them. Who would be next? You never knew.
All kinds of rumors floated around the Shelter about who might have killed Shelly. Everybody had a different idea. Once again, Cindy was amazed that the cops had not come and spoken to these women in depth.
“I don’t get it,” Cindy said to Barbara as they were walking to the front door to get Cindy a cab back to the hotel. “Tell me why the cops aren’t sprawling all over the place, questioning every single woman?”
“The cops don’t much like to come here,” Barbara said, lowering her voice. “We’re a blot on the community, a reminder that there’s a world of violence going on beneath the radar that the police can’t stop.”
The image horrified Cindy, a sub world of pain and terror that no one wanted to face.
“Battered women are outcasts,” Barbara continued, “no one wants to spend time with them. And, for law enforcement, it can be a waste of time. Whatever these women say can be dismissed in court by a good lawyer. They invalidate the witness, just like the women’s partners did, say their testimony can’t be trusted because they’re emotionally unstable now. These women don’t have any clout.”
Cindy was horrified. The two of them stepped out of the building onto the curb, and despite the sun that was shining brightly through the trees, it seemed as if heavy clouds had settled over the place.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” said Barbara smiling, as Cindy got into the cab that was waiting for her.
“You certainly will,” said Cindy, leaning out the window, waving.
“Thanks again for everything,” said Barbara, once again. “You’re a trooper. We really need you here.”
*
By the time the cab pulled up at the hotel it was almost time for dinner, and to Cindy’s surprise, Mattheus was waiting for her in the lobby. He was dressed in a fresh blue shirt and slacks and looked more like himself than he had in a while.
The minute Cindy walked in, Mattheus came over to her. “You were gone twice as long as I expected,” he said, greeting her.
Cindy nodded. She felt solemn and sad.
“Still up for dinner?” he asked.
Actually, Cindy felt quite hungry and tired. “Dinner would be perfect now,” she said, “I’m hungry and sad.”
For a moment it was like old times. Mattheus took her elbow and lead her gently to the main restaurant in a lovely garden in the back of the hotel.
“I made a reservation for us” he said as they walked quietly through the lobby, out onto a trail that led to the restaurant.
“Don’t I need to fresh up and change first?” Cindy asked as they walked.
“Not at all,” said Mattheus, quietly. “You’re beautiful, just as you are.”
Cindy was touched, but didn’t want to be. She wondered what his change of mood was due to, and decided to just let the comment go. There was no point in getting sidetracked. It about her and Mattheus, it was about Shelly’s murder. Cindy wanted to focus on the Shelter, tell him about it. She wished she’d taken notes, there were so many details she needed to remember.
When she and Mattheus got to the restaurant they were led to a perfect table, overlooking the ocean. Mattheus seemed pleased and again, for a moment, it was as if nothing had ever happened between them, as if they were still working together beautifully going to wonderful places, talking over cases, walking arm in arm.
The waiter came over quickly.
“Let’s order some drinks first,” Mattheus suggested.
“I’ll have a glass of white wine,” said Cindy. She didn’t want to drink much, needed to keep her head clear.
Mattheus ordered a Marguerite.
When the waiter left, they just sat quietly looking at each other. It was the first time they’d done that since Cindy had moved out of his home in Grenada. Somehow the tension between them, the anger and fear had subsided.
“I was beginning to get worried about you,” Mattheus started. “I felt strange thinking of you alone over there at the Shelter.”
“It was a long, disturbing lecture,” Cindy said quietly.
Mattheus became more available. “Why?”
“The Shelter’s a devastating place,” said Cindy. “Battering and abuse leave a terrible toll.”
“I’m sure they do,” Mattheus said quietly.
“Would you like to come with me tomorrow, when I go back for the tour?” asked Cindy. “I think it’s important.”