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.She still felt uncomfortable with taking their charade public, but as Dexter pointed out, the INS might ask for references.They might believe she kept a low profile, but she couldn’t expect them to believe Dexter had no friends either.The gathering ended by eleven, and as she and Dexter walked home, Genevieve daydreamed that they weren’t married, but had simply gone out on a date.What would happen when he saw her to her door? Would he have kissed her, as was his habit? Would she have invited him in, continued kissing him, and eventually adjourned to the bedroom? She would never know.When they got upstairs, Dexter dropped onto the couch, propped his feet up on the coffee table and said, “I’ll just wait another hour or so until Z.L.leaves, and then I’ll get my bag and go.I’ve got to work at the lab tomorrow.”“I thought you were finished.Didn’t you give notice before Labor Day?”“They asked if I’d be interested in working as an on-call backup on the weekends, and I accepted.They get me two or three times a month.”She immediately became concerned.“Are you sure it’s not too much for you, with classes starting next week and you working full time at the M.E.’s office?”“No, I’ll be fine.It’s not every weekend.Besides, the M.E.’s office tends to be pretty quiet in the evenings.There’s just me and the stiffs.I’ll get a lot of studying done.”He kept his word, leaving with his duffel bag twenty minutes past midnight.His departure left an almost palpable void in the apartment, turning Genevieve’s surroundings from warm and lively to cold and empty.But it was the only thing to be done.Why, then, did she feel like she’d been abandoned?There’d been a lot of pretty ladies at last night’s party, and Dexter had looked especially handsome after he’d showered at her apartment and changed into a yellow tailored shirt, brown slacks and a tan tweed blazer.He would have had to be blind not to notice how they smiled at him like they were auditioning for a Rembrandt commercial.Had he decided that there were too many women in New York for him to be hung up on her? He wasn’t in a position to return the flirting at the party, of course, but when they weren’t posing as happy newlyweds and he was out alone, would he ask for a woman’s phone number? He’d certainly be within his rights.She’d told him herself that he was free to see other women.What she’d said was one thing.What she felt was another.And thinking of Dexter with another woman made her feel pretty damn lousy.A brown tweed pantsuit on a mannequin in a store window caught her eye, and she walked closer to the window, glad for a distraction to get her mind off Dexter.She’d almost reached the window when, out of nowhere, someone slammed into her and sent her sprawling forward.“What the—ouch!” She didn’t know which hurt the most, her ankle, which twisted in the fall, or her wrist, which she used to break her fall.The cement sidewalk had rushed at her like a forty-mile-per-hour wind.“My goodness, he’s just knocking everybody down,” a woman indignantly declared.Genevieve struggled to her feet and grabbed her packages.Already her twisted ankle throbbed, and it hurt to put weight on it.She’d never make it home on foot; she’d have to hail a cab.Sirens blared as numerous police cars pulled up to the curb, while others sped down the busy street in pursuit of the perpetrator.The officers busied themselves helping the trail of people who’d been knocked down get to their feet.and asking questions.Her entire body went rigid, and the throbbing in her ankle increased.She’d managed to avoid any encounters with the law the entire time she’d been back in the States, and now, because she’d been knocked down by some petty criminal, she was about to be questioned by the police.The key was not to show any nervousness.She hadn’t even seen anything except the back of a long-legged young man zipping down Seventy-Second Street, pushing people out of the way as he ran.She leaned against the glass of the window to take some of the pressure off her twisted ankle.The officers quickly moved through the crowd, calling out to those who had seen anything or who had been hurt.A young brown-skinned officer caught sight of her leaning against the wall, trying to balance herself on one foot.“Are you injured, ma’am? Oh!” he exclaimed, taking in the gash on her right leg.“He knocked me down, but I’ll be all right.Please.I’d really like to go home.”“Can I get your name, please?”She told him.“Okay.Did you get a good look at the man who knocked you down?”“No.All I saw was his back as he ran down the street.” In spite of her eagerness to get away from the officer, she couldn’t help being curious.“What’d he do?”“He ran off with an expensive ring while he was pretending to want to buy it from the jewelry store on the corner.Did you see him at all?”“Not really.He had dark hair, I think.And he wore a white dress shirt and dark slacks.The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up.” She remembered the arms that protruded from his sleeves.“I’m pretty sure he was white.Light brown hair.Not too tall, but slim.And I presume he was young.”“Good.Anything else?”She thought a moment, then shook her head.“No.”He smiled at her.“See, you saw more than you thought.Thank you, ma’am.If you’ll just wait a few minutes, we’re transporting everyone who’s been hurt to the hospital.”“I don’t think that’s necessary.”“You probably need to get that leg cleaned up.And an x-ray wouldn’t hurt, either,” the officer said as he noticed her wince with pain when she put weight on her ankle in an effort to keep her balance.“In the meantime, is there someone I can call for you, Miss Gray?”“Mrs.” Instantly she regretted the word, for her ring was in the change compartment of her wallet [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]