Mattheus jaw clenched as she spoke. “You couldn’t live with yourself if we didn’t take it?” he asked. “Why not?”
The noise around them grew louder and it was hard to hear what he said. Cindy could see from the look on his face though, that he wasn’t on board.
“I can’t stop thinking about that young girl,” said Cindy, “she was beautiful, innocent.”
“You don’t know that,” said Mattheus. “She might have been a rotten liar.”
A chill went through Cindy. “But I can’t stop thinking of her anyway.”
“That’s called obsession,” Mattheus responded.
“I’d call it compassion,” Cindy countered.
“Call it what you want,” Mattheus grew heated, “this is our vacation.” Then he waved at the bartender and ordered another round of drinks.
“Mattheus,” Cindy put her hand on his arm. “I made a promise.”
“Yes, you did. You made a promise to me, remember?”
“I also made a promise to Clint,” said Cindy.
Mattheus grew stone cold. “Clint’s dead, Cindy. I am here now. Open your eyes.”
Cindy sat up straighter as a bolt of energy flashed through her.
“I made a promise not just to Clint, but to what he stood for,” said Cindy. “And I made a promise to myself that I would dedicate my life to helping victims of crime.”
“You’ve kept your promise and you’re keeping it,” Mattheus insisted, taking the fresh martini that the bartender brought him and drinking it down. “What about your promise that you wouldn’t let anything get between us? Doesn’t that count, too?”
“This doesn’t have to get between us,” said Cindy.
“But it is,” Mattheus insisted.
“We can do this together,” Cindy replied, “we’re a team. You taught me all I know as a detective.”
“I don’t want to work on a case now. I came down here to be with you,” Mattheus was definite.
“You want us to spend our time drinking martinis and dancing when a young woman has been killed right under our nose?” asked Cindy.
Mattheus bristled, “Young women and men are getting killed every day all over the world.”
“Not right where we are. This case has been brought to us directly.”
Mattheus placed his cocktail glass back on the bar. “There’s always an excuse for everything, isn’t there? Looks like the roles between us have become reversed. Could it be that you’re the one now who’s afraid of intimacy? Has it been that way all along? Are you a workaholic, Cindy, afraid of loving and being loved?”
Cindy stopped cold. Was it so? Was she running away from closeness and happiness, hiding in cases? She didn’t think so. She’d been extremely happy to be close to Mattheus before this happened. She hadn’t gone out seeking another case. An emergency had happened, like a sudden summer storm. She was being summonsed to help. That was different, wasn’t it? How could she say no?
Mattheus turned his back to her then and ran his hands over his face. Cindy knew he did that when feelings of hurt and anger started to build.
“I love you, Mattheus,” Cindy reached out her hand to him, “I’m not running away from you. I never will.”
“I’d say you are,” he turned back and stared at her. “It’s one thing to say I love you, it’s another to live it.”
“We can put time into the case and then after it’s over, continue our vacation. We’ll both feel better then,” Cindy was adamant.
“Put time in? It’s not so simple.”
“Could be it’s a suicide?” Cindy pleaded. “That will be simple.”
“And if it’s not?” Mattheus shook his head back and forth. “I don’t like this.”
“I’m sorry, Mattheus.”
“Just like that? You’re sorry. You’ve made up your mind? It doesn’t matter if I agree?”
“I’ve got to do it, I’m sorry, Mattheus,” Cindy repeated. “I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t.”
“You’ve got a problem, Cindy,” Mattheus said, looking away. “I’ve seen it happen to detectives before. They become addicted to the chase, a normal life becomes boring, a regular relationship unfulfilling. I’ll never be able to compete with a hidden murderer floating around. Once the addiction sets in, all you really want, all you live for, is to nail down the next culprit, see them brought to justice. Only then can you sleep at night. “
“It’s not like that with me,” Cindy protested. “I sleep very well at night.”
“Yes, it is that way, and you don’t even realize it,” Mattheus was on a roll.
“You’re describing yourself, the way you used to be,” Cindy breathed.
“That’s how come I can recognize this a mile away,” Mattheus grumbled. “But I’m over it now. I’ve detoxed. Now it’s your turn.”
“I’m not addicted,” Cindy demanded, “I’m just doing what’s right. I want you, Mattheus. I want a normal relationship and a normal life.”
But Mattheus wouldn’t listen. He believed what he believed. “Come on,” he said, “let’s get out of here.”
*