"With me?" she asked him.
"What?"
"Were you angry with me?"
He frowned, as if he wasn't at all sure what she was talking about. "I'm going to get a cold cloth for your temple. That might make you feel a little better." He started out of the room.
"Rex!"
"What!"
"Where did you go?"
He held in the doorway and arched a dark brow, smiling slowly as he looked at her. "I beg your pardon?" She flushed and repeated herself softly. He hesitated, still smiling. "Inquisitive, aren't you?"
"Not usually."
"Well, that rather remains to be seen, doesn't it?" he asked her huskily. Then he said, "I went out to see Gene."
"Gene?" She sat up abruptly, then moaned and slid down again. "Gene? He's my great-grandparent."
"Yeah, but he's my very good friend. I saw him every day, you know. I lived here. You were off in New York."
There was a strange sound to his voice as he said that; Alexi didn't have time to ponder it, because he went on to say, "I'm sorry. Maybe I had no right. I went out to ask him if he thought John Vinto could be behind all these strange occurrences."
Alexi watched him, then offered up a soft smile that Rex knew was not for him. "How is he?" she asked. "Gene?"
"Of course Gene." "He's fine. He'll be out soon. He wanted to give you time to surprise him."
She was still smiling when he left the room. By the time he came back with a cloth for her head, they could hear the sound of a siren as the sheriffs car headed for the house. Alexi closed her eyes as Rex placed the cold cloth on her head.
"Mark's here," he told her, listening as the sound came closer and closer. "Mark?"
"Mark Eliot. A friend of mine." He saw the deep smile that touched her lips. "You have a lot of friends around here, Mr. Morrow--an awful lot of friends for a recluse."
"It's a friendly place," he said lightly. He squeezed her hand and went on to answer the door.
Mark Eliot was a tall man with sandy-blond hair and a drooping mustache. Rex shook hands with him at the door and was glad to see that Mark seemed to be taking it all very seriously--not with the humor he had shown when Rex had suggested that the snakes might have been set loose in the house purposely.
"Was anything taken?" Mark asked as they came into the parlor.
"Not that we know of," Rex said. He frowned as they came in, noting that Alexi had chosen to sit up. She still seemed very pale.
"Alexi, Mark Eliot, with the sheriff's office. Mark, Alexi--"
"Alexi Jordan." Mark took her hand. He didn't let it go. "Anything, ma'am. Anything at all that we can do for you, you just let us know."
"Mark--we're trying to report a break and enter and assault."
"Oh, yeah. Yeah."
He sat down beside Alexi. Rex crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall and watched and waited. Mark did manage to get through the proper routine of questions. He even scribbled notes on a piece of paper, and when he was done, Rex had to admit that even tripping over his own tongue, Mark was all right at his job.
"There is no sign of forced entry. Nothing was taken. Rex, when you came back, the house was still locked tight as a drum. Miss Jordan..." He hesitated.
"I didn't imagine a knock to my own head," Alexi said indignantly.
"Well, no..." Mark murmured. He looked to Rex for assistance. Rex didn't intend to give him any. "You did fall down the stairs," Mark said. "After I was struck," Alexi insisted quietly. "Well, then..." He stood up, smiling down at her. "I can call out the print boys. May I use the phone?" "Of course. Please."
Mark Eliot called his office. Rex offered to make coffee. In very little time, the fingerprint experts were out and the house was dusted. Alexi insisted on coming into the kitchen with the men. While the house was dusted, Mark excitedly told Rex about the book he was working on, and Rex gave him a few suggestions. Alexi put in a few, too, and was somewhat surprised when they both paid attention to her. It was late when the men from the sheriffs department left. Alexi started picking up the coffee cups that littered the kitchen. Rex caught her hand. "Come on." "Where?" "Hospital."
"Rex, I'm fine--" she protested. "You're not." "I don't--" "You will."
She set her jaw stubbornly. "Rex, dammit--" "Alexi, dammit." "I'm not going anywhere. It's been hours now, and I feel just fine."
Rex leaned back and thought about it for a minute. Independent. She was accustomed to being independent. She really didn't like to be told what to do. Women were like that these days--independent--and they meant it. If he forced her hand, it could stand against him.
But she really needed to go to a hospital. Just as a precautionary measure. She'd be mad at him, but...
"Rex...?"
Alexi didn't like the way he was looking at her as he came toward her. "Rex!" She screamed out her protest when he scooped her up into his arms. "Rex, damn you, I said--''
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I heard you." "You can't do this!" "Apparently I can."
He stopped by the kitchen table to slip his pinky around the strap of her purse. He hurried through the house, yelling at Samson to get back when the shepherd tried to follow him. Alexi struggled against him, but he didn't give her much leverage. A moment later he deposited her in the car and locked the door. He slid into the driver's seat and revved the car into motion before she could think about hopping out.
She didn't say anything to him. She stared straight ahead, rubbing her wrist where he had gripped it.
Rex put the car into gear and glanced her way. "Alexi, your face is pale gray!"
She didn't say anything. She just kept staring ahead, watching as they left the peninsula behind and sped on to the highway.
"Gray, mind you--ashen."
She cast him a rebellious stare, her blue eyes sizzling. "Sickly, ash gray."
She sighed and sank into the seat. “You could have at least let me get my toothbrush!"
Rex laughed and turned his attention back to the road. She would, he felt sure, forgive him for this one.
"Maybe they'll say that you're fine and that you can go right home."
She smiled at that. But when they reached the hospital, the doctor determined that she did have a minor concussion and that she should stay at least overnight for observation.
Alexi cast Rex a definitely malignant stare, but he ignored her--and promised to run down to the gift shop and buy her a toothbrush.
He had no intention of leaving her. From the coffee shop, Rex called Gene and very carefully chose the words to tell him what had happened. Gene was in good health, but Rex was wary, never forgetting that the man was in his nineties and didn't need any shocks in his life.
Rex told Gene that he was wondering if there wasn't a way to get her out of the house. Gene shrewdly warned him that if the danger was directed at Alexi, it wouldn't help to get her out of the house.
Rex asked him harshly, “Then you think that it is John Vinto?"
"I didn't say that," Gene protested. He paused a moment. "I don't know what to think."
“Just for the weekend, then,'' Rex murmured.
"What? What, boy? Speak up there. I can't hear you!"
"Oh. I said just for the weekend. I've got the sloop in berth in town. Maybe we'll take her out for a sail. Just to have a few days without anything else happening. I'll leave Samson at the house to guard it, and Emily can come over to feed him and the kittens."
Gene was very silent. Rex barely noticed, he was so busy taking flight with his plans in his imagination.
"I'll be there to see you off," Gene said. "We'll have lunch."
"I haven't even mentioned it to Alexi yet," Rex cautioned Gene.
"You'll figure something out," Gene said. "I'm a man of boundless faith."
Rex stayed at Alexi's side, watching her as she slept, and as the night passed he felt as if more and more of her stole into his soul. It seemed to him that she remained too pale, and yet there was an ethereal quality about her that was beautiful. He was afraid to touch; she was so very fine. Small and fine boned and delicate to look at--golden, like exquisite porcelain or china. But she wasn't really so delicate, he knew. Despite the battles she had waged and lost in life, she was still fighting, a golden girl, a glittering, shimmering beauty.