Native Affairs Read Free Page A

air inside was blessedly cool. Paula led the way up an additional series of carpeted stairs to her apartment.
    “This is it,” she announced, unlocking the door and hefting Cindy’s suitcase over the threshold. “I was on a waiting list six months to get this place.”
    “It’s lovely,” Cindy said, looking around at the luxurious apartment. A living room with a cathedral ceiling and a balcony overlooking the street opened into a dining area with a mirrored wall facing them and a gleaming galley kitchen with all the latest appliances. A hall led away from the living room to the bedrooms at the back. The whole place was done in pleasant neutral tones: beige carpeting, furniture and draperies in cocoa, sand and taupe, with warm accents of orange and peach in the throw pillows and in the modern paintings on the walls. “How does a humble nurse afford a place like this?”
    “She doesn’t,” Paula replied. “I am also the assistant manager of the complex, for which I get a considerable break on the rent. I collect checks, take complaints, and serve as general dogsbody for the outfit that owns the buildings.”
    “I see.”
    Paula dropped what she was carrying and headed for the kitchen. “You should have seen this apartment before I took it. I was so anxious to get in here I agreed to take on the mess. I needed two weeks to clean it up before I could move in.”
    “It was dirty?” Cindy asked, fingering a china cat on an end table.
    “Not exactly. The person who lived here before me had some rather unusual decorating ideas. The walls in the living room were black. When you pulled the drapes closed it was like a full blackout during the London blitz. And as if to make up for that, the master bedroom was fluorescent green, and there were orange flowers all over the bathroom walls.”
    “Oh, dear.”
    “I almost went blind when the real estate agent showed it to me. I had it all stripped and painted before I brought one stick of furniture through the door.” She pointed to the back of the apartment, at the same time poking around in the freezer for ice. “Just put your things in the guest room on the left.”
    Cindy picked up the bag Paula had dropped and lugged her things down the hall, her sandals noiseless on the thick carpeting. The spare bedroom had a single bed with a brass bedstead, covered with a multicolored quilt. It was on the same side of the building as the balcony, which ended about three feet from its window. Cindy dumped her bags on the bed and removed her shoes, wiggling her bare toes blissfully on the cool rug. She ambled back out to the kitchen, where Paula was mixing a pitcher of iced tea.
    “It’s instant,” she said to Cindy, when she saw her watching the process. “I can’t be bothered boiling the water for the real stuff. It’s probably full of additives which will kill us both but today I’m too hot to care.”
    “Has Andrew Fox always lived in this area?” Cindy asked, leaning on the counter which bordered the dining area.
    “Back to him, are we?” Paula said, grinning. “I can see that he made quite an impression. Well, he usually does.”
    Cindy merely stared at her until she shrugged and said, “He travels a lot, as I said, but his home base has always been Council Rock. He’s very close to his father’s family, but almost nobody else.” She smiled as she emptied a tray of ice into the plastic pitcher. “He used to live in a lean-to on his uncle’s property, if you can believe that. Then he had an apartment, and now he’s moved into one of those waterfront condominiums on the other side of town. They cost a fortune, and his change of lifestyle has occasioned quite a bit of comment around town. There’s a lot of speculation about his reasons for relocation. It’s rather out of character.”
    “Why should it seem unusual?” Cindy inquired. “After all, he must make a lot of money doing what he does. You said so yourself.”
    Paula took two tall glasses down from