That emboldened Ann, and got her going. “Just because Mattheus is so good looking, and charming,” she continued, “doesn’t mean he’s a guy you can trust.”
“You don’t know him.” Cindy’s voice rose. She didn’t want to hear any more now.
“Neither do you,” Ann shot back. “Guys like that are great at camouflage, and I know your whole history with men. Until you met Clint, there was nothing but trouble. Neither Frank nor I like him.”
It hurt to hear that, but ultimately, Cindy’s relationship with Mattheus belonged to her. As did the life she was now choosing.
“This isn’t about my relationship with Mattheus,” Cindy defended herself, “it’s about a case we’re working on together.”
“They’re intertwined,” Ann warned.
“I heard enough,” said Cindy, angry.
“No, you didn’t,” Ann replied. “You didn’t hear a word I said.”
*
First thing in the morning, Cindy dressed in an ivory linen sundress, put on her favorite coral beaded necklace, had a quick breakfast, grabbed a cab and went to the address she had for Katrina. Mattheus would be coming on his own, to Hemingway’s House, in a little while.
As the cab wound through the streets, Cindy thought about what happened between them the night before. It wasn’t all bad, she realized - the rough encounter with her family hit Mattheus hard. He seemed to have woken up to the reality that he would definitely lose Cindy if he continued on as he’d been. It was clear that he didn’t want to lose her, either. Later on, it also became clear that he was beginning to face the truth about his part in his marriage. That turned things around for Cindy, gave her more confidence in him. They’d both needed that kiss desperately too, needed to feel their connection restored. Cindy wondered what Mattheus thought the kiss meant about their relationship now. She herself, wasn’t at all sure, but she was glad to have him back as a partner on the case at least.
The taxi pulled up at a large, pink, stucco house set back from the road. There was a long entranceway, lined with tall bushes and blooming flowers. Cindy felt as if she were arriving at a quirky bed and breakfast that guests seldom came to.
She walked up the entranceway quickly and was surprised to find the front door left ajar. Clearly, Katrina was expecting her and wanted her to walk right in. Cindy decided to knock loudly first.
She knocked, waited, knocked again, and in a few minutes a large woman with unkempt, curly, bleached blonde hair came to the door. She wore a tropical dress, sprawling with flowers and huge hoop earrings that hung far down her neck.
“Come in,” the woman breathed, through her bright red lipstick, “hurry up, and close the door behind you.”
Cindy slipped into the house and closed the door.
Inside place was large and sprawling, but only half furnished, with old rattan furniture scattered around. The wide, empty spaces in the hallway and main room had plants sitting in them, and small, scratched footstools here and there.
“Our cat, Mumu, just loves resting on these footstools,” the woman pointed to them.
“You’re Katrina?” Cindy asked, to be sure.
“Of course,” Katrina stopped walking a moment and flung her hair back, “who else would I be?”
“Just wanted to be sure,” Cindy responded.
“Who’s sure about anything these days?” Katrina commented as she pointed to a ratty sofa, with large print cushions that didn’t match. “Sit down, please.”
Cindy sat down and Katrina pulled up a wobbly chair for herself.
“It’s so early in the morning,” Katrina started quickly, “the whole world is still sleeping, except you and me,” and she leaned back in the chair and heaved a deep sigh. “Thanks again for coming.”
Katrina was clearly living under intense pressure and Cindy wondered why she’d returned from the Shelter, to live here alone with a violent husband. That would make anyone as nervous as she seemed.
“I heard that you knew Shelly very well,” Cindy started, wanting to start the conversation slowly.
“Yes, very, very well,” Katrina’s eyelids fluttered. “She was my counselor.”
“At the Shelter?” Cindy said.
“Yes, of course, at the Shelter! Where else?” The question unnerved Katrina and she looked around the room, as if she were checking to make sure no one could overhear her. “Irrelevant questions upset me,” she said then, “I begin to wonder what other surprises are coming down the road.”
“Sorry about that,” said Cindy. “Can you tell me more?”
Katrina’s eyes narrowed. “More about what? The Shelter or Shelly? The Shelter’s still here, Shelly’s not!” and she smiled nervously.
“Terrible,” said Cindy.
“Yes, it’s terrible thing when things go that far. Usually the guys stop before it gets to this.”