Duplicity (13 page)

Ellen wondered if she dreamed the amber light that leaped into his black eyes. Feigning nonchalance, she lifted Gigi's painting from the easel. The abstract drawing, done in red, faintly resembled a heart.

"Good, Gigi," she said while signing. "Tell Ellen picture name."

Love,
signed Gigi.

Ellen taped the painting onto the wall and put a clean sheet of paper on the easel. "Gigi paint again." She turned to Dirk as Gigi carefully selected a yellow paint pen from the box. "I'm always amazed when Gigi paints," she told Dirk.

 What she wanted to say was
I've missed you
. She pointed to a picture done in black. "She calls this one Hate." What she wanted to say was
Hold me
.

Dirk walked over to her so that he could examine Gigi's artwork. Ellen drew a shaky breath as his shoulder touched hers.

"Incredible," he said. But he wasn't talking about the paintings. He was marveling once again at the way Dr. Ellen Stanford could make him feel vulnerable.

"This one," Ellen said, pointing to a black and white painting, "is a picture of her pet cat." She wondered if she could make the tour last forever.

Dirk moved closer to her, ostensibly to get a better view of the painting. "I didn't know she had a cat." What he wanted to say was
I can never forget the fragrance of your hair
.

"She calls him Spot." The minute she turned to look at him, Ellen knew she'd made a mistake. There he was: the fake fiancé who had somehow managed to become real, the artful deceiver who had worked his way into her heart. "Dirk." The softly spoken word was almost a plea as she put her hand on his arm.

His carefully built barriers began to topple as he gazed into her face. "Ellen." It was almost a sigh. He lowered his head, irresistibly drawn to her lips.

Like the touch of a butterfly, his lips brushed hers.
Sweet, so sweet
, he thought as he wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close enough to feel the hammering of her heart. Her lips parted beneath his, and for a few precious moments he drank the forbidden nectar. The light fragrance of her hair, the feel of her body next to his, the taste and texture of her mouth—all settled into his heart and became a part of him.

And then, one by one, he put the barriers back in place. Before the passion of her lips could drug him into a false sense of security, before the urgent message of her body could make him believe that love was for him, he ended the kiss.

"Ellen!" His voice was broken, and he held her fiercely to him before letting her go.
Forbidden
, his mind warned him.
Love is danger; love is vulnerability; love is risk
. At last he dropped his arms. "Good-bye, Dr. Ellen Stanford."

"Stay," she said as he turned to walk away.

"I can't." He smiled sadly at her over his shoulder. "I should never have come back."

"But you did."

"Yes. I did."

"Not just to see Gigi."

"No. I lied about that."

"There seems to be a lot of lies between us."

"Too many, Ellen." Turning away, he put his hand on the doorknob and stood there, hesitating, hoping that she would call to him again. But there was no sound from the room except the scratching of Gigi's paint pens. He walked through the door and closed it soundlessly behind him.
Don't look back
, he said to himself as he walked down the empty hallway and into the real world.

Ellen looked at the closed door. "I won't cry!" she said aloud. Squaring her shoulders she walked to the easel to examine Gigi's painting. "He keeps doing me favors," she muttered. "I should be writing him thank-you notes."

She wondered wryly if she were going to become one of those absent- minded scientists who mumbled to herself all the time.

Telling herself that she was well rid of Dirk, she concentrated on recording Gigi's day. But from time to time she reached up and touched her lips.

 o0o

The minute Ellen woke up, she knew that something was wrong. She lay in bed, listening. The compound was quiet—too quiet. She slipped into her robe and grabbed a flashlight from her bedside table. Tiptoeing down the hall, she peeked into Ruth Ann's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and she could see her assistant curled into a tight ball in the middle of her bed, snoring peacefully.

Ellen hurried through the double doors that led to Gigi's sleeping quarters. In the summertime the gorilla preferred sleeping outside. She peered frantically ahead, trying to make out Gigi's sleeping form in the predawn gloom. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light they confirmed what she instinctively knew: Gigi was not there.

"Gigi," Ellen called, knowing that there would be no answer. She went through the gate and turned her flashlight beam on the gorilla's pallet. Her covers had not been moved. They were neatly folded inside the gazebo that served as Gigi's nest.

Ellen knelt on the planked floor and examined the covers. Gigi's favorite quilt, the one with the gingham dog and the calico cat, was missing. Forcing herself not to panic, she walked around the edge of the fence, looking for possible means of escape. It didn't take long to find. One section of the heavy chain-link fence sagged dramatically where the two-hundred-pound gorilla had climbed over.

Ellen's feet practically flew over the ground as she ran back into the main building. "Ruth Ann," she shouted, "wake up. Gigi's gone." She had already stripped off her nightgown and stepped into her shorts when her assistant rushed into the room.

"How did she get out?" Ruth Ann asked. Although she looked like a sleepy, disheveled owl without her glasses, she was fully awake.

"She climbed over the fence," Ellen said as she hastily pulled on a thin cotton blouse.

"She's never done that before."

"I know." Ellen grabbed a flight bag off the top shelf of her closet and threw a first-aid kit inside. "She's close to the mating age. She's probably just prowling in the woods." Suddenly she stood very still. "Oh, no," she said almost to herself.

"What is it?" Ruth Ann asked.

"I think I know where she is."

"I'm not sure I want to hear this."

"You remember how dejected she was after Dirk brought the bouquet and left without telling her good-bye?"

Ruth Ann made new lines in her already severe face as she tightened her mouth. "Yes."

"And you know how she adores riding. Well, I took her for a ride. When we passed Tony's cabin, I pointed it out to her and told her that Dirk was staying there." She shook her head in self-disgust and jerked the zipper of her bag shut. "I never dreamed she would do this."

"Maybe she's just playing games with us. You know how she loves games."

"You don't believe that any more than I do." Ellen glanced out the window. "It's almost dawn now. As soon as it's light enough, make a circuit around the edge of the compound." She tried to sound optimistic as she spoke to her assistant. "Just in case she is playing games."

"Right." Ruth Ann pretended to believe in that possibility. "You're going to Anthony Salinger's cabin." It was a statement more than a question. "Pity he doesn't have a telephone."

"Yes. I'm going to walk in case Gigi doesn't have much of a head start. As soon as you've checked the perimeter of the compound, come inside and wait. It's too soon to panic. And we won't call reinforcements unless it's absolutely necessary. We don't want to spook Gigi."

"I knew he was trouble the minute I laid eyes on him."

Ellen ignored that remark. "I'm going to the kitchen to get some food. Wait until it's light, Ruth Ann, and be careful. If Gigi's there, I’ll get Dirk to bring us back in his car."

"Be careful yourself. And I'm not just talking about the woods."

Ellen ignored that remark too. Taking her flashlight and her flight bag, she headed for the kitchen. She quickly chucked some bananas and granola bars into the bag and stepped outside. The first pale columns of light were filtering through the dense forest, and the branches of the trees were still heavy with dew.

Ellen entered the forest without fear. Beech Mountain had been her home for so long, she was familiar with every tree and rock within a five-mile radius of the compound. If Gigi hadn't been missing. she would have enjoyed her exploration of the woods.

She thought the hour of dawn was the most tranquil of all. Nature's daytime creatures were stirring, celebrating the new day with jubilant calls, and her nighttime creatures were scurrying through the forest, seeking their various holes and burrows of rest.

Ellen used her flashlight in the dense forest, turning the beam on probable hiding places and calling Gigi's name. She scared up a rabbit and a family of wrens, but there was no sign of the gorilla. The forest floor was cushioned with compost—fallen trees and leaves from other seasons—so that, even if she had been an experienced tracker, finding signs of the gorilla's route would have been difficult.

Ellen estimated that she was at least a mile from the compound when she sat down on a fallen tree trunk to eat a granola bar. She could see shafts of gold through the treetops, but the branches were too thick to allow the sunshine to touch the forest floor. She hurriedly ate her makeshift breakfast and then resumed her search, leaving the crumbs for a pair of bluejays.

The trees began to thin as she came closer to Anthony Salinger's cabin. A bramble snagged her shirt, and as she stopped to loose herself she noticed a pink thread caught in the bush. Gigi's quilt, she thought. She walked faster, certain now that she knew where to find her runaway gorilla.

The dew was still on the grass when Ellen burst into the clearing beside Anthony's summer place. "Gigi," she called. A large, dark bundle on the front porch stirred.

Laughing and crying at the same time, Ellen ran toward the cabin. "Gigi," she called again. This time the bundle rose to its feet.

With her quilt tucked under her arm and dragging in the dirt behind her, Gigi loped toward Ellen.

 
Gigi happy see Ellen
, the gorilla signed.

The cabin door flew open. "What's going on?" Dirk stood on the porch in a pair of cutoff jeans.

Seeing him like that, bright-eyed and tousle- haired from recent sleep, Ellen forgave his disruption of her life. She forgave his sudden appearances and abrupt disappearances. She forgave the kisses that ended too soon. She forgave the passion that was offered and then withdrawn. She even forgave his role in Gigi's escape.

 "Gigi ran away," she said. Taking the gorilla by the hand, she led her back to the porch.

 "To see me?" Dirk asked.

 "Yes." Ellen didn't elaborate.

 "I'm sorry, Ellen." He reached out to touch her face, but Gigi intervened.

 Grabbing Dirk's hand, she lifted it to her face, then dropped it to sign
Gigi find man. Gigi happy
.

 Ellen almost envied her gorilla. She felt joy in Dirk's presence, too, but she couldn't express it. There were too many barriers between them, too many secrets.

 He patted Gigi's head. "I like you, too. Gigi," he said. Turning to Ellen, he added. "If I had known she was out here, I would have brought her back." He looked down at Ellen's wet shoes. "You walked through the woods?"

 "I didn't know when she had escaped. I thought I might find her closer to the compound."

 “Come inside. I’ll make coffee and eggs while you dry your feet." He held the door open.

 "Ruth Ann's waiting. We really should get back."

 But Gigi had other ideas. Grabbing Dirk's and Ellen's hands, she pulled them through the door.
Gigi hungry
, she signed to Ellen.
Long time food none
.

 "It looks like I've been outvoted." Ellen said. She unzipped her bag and took out the fruit. "Gigi eat, then go home," she instructed her gorilla.

 Gigi shook her head vehemently.
No. Gigi stay man's home. Gigi love man
.

 "Problems?" Dirk asked. Even if he hadn't known the sign for no, he knew the meaning of that stubborn headshake.

 "It looks like I'm dealing with a lovesick gorilla," Ellen said. "It's a pity you couldn't be a handsome ten-year-old four-hundred-pound male gorilla."

He laughed. "I qualify on only one count. I'm male."

Two counts
, she thought. He was also handsome.

As he turned to the stove to start the coffeepot, she saw the jagged six-inch scar on his back. No matter how many times she saw that scar, she was always shaken by what it symbolized—danger, brute force, secrets. She wished for the power to wipe his back clean of that telltale evidence. If there were no scar, perhaps there would be no barriers.

"Ellen." She became aware that Dirk was talking to her. "I've asked you twice if you want eggs."

"No. I don't want eggs. I want to know who you are."

"The scar?"