Winter Affair (18 page)

“There she is,” Leda said to Reardon, and they made their way across the room. A hush greeted their passage and Reardon gripped her tightly.

“I feel like a hippie at a convention of Young Republicans,” he whispered to her, and Leda smiled. But she could tell he was joking to cover his nervousness; these were, in effect, the people who had sent him to jail.

Monica turned to face them as they approached. Her eyes flickered over Reardon, and something registered in them, but Leda couldn’t tell what it was. Her aunt’s face was expressionless as she looked at Leda.

“Hello, Monica,” Leda said smoothly. “I think you know Kyle Reardon. Kyle, you remember my aunt, Monica Donlon.”

Kyle nodded, and Monica shook his hand stiffly, meeting his eyes briefly and then looking back at Leda. Sara Master, Elaine, and the postmistress stood hovering in the background, riveted by the scene.

Monica introduced her escort to them, and after a few minutes of polite, awkward conversation Leda said, “Kyle, I think I’d like something to drink. Shall we?”

He led her away, relieved, and got them two glasses of champagne from a passing attendant. He drew his index finger around the inside of his collar and said, “Whew. That’s some tough lady. I can see where you get your grit.”
 

“The worst is over,” Leda agreed. “Look at them all staring. You’d think they had never seen two people in love before.”

“That’s not why they’re staring, and you know it. This is probably their first close up view of a big, bad criminal.”

“Don’t you believe it,” Leda snorted. “Plenty of them belong in jail, but they’re into the sort of white collar crime that goes unpunished, like tax evasion and illegal shelters.”

Reardon grinned at her. “You really like this group, don’t you?”

Leda had to laugh at that. When the band took a break she led Kyle to the buffet table, where they helped themselves, sitting to eat in a quiet alcove away from the throng. They weren’t alone long , however, before Leda saw Sara Master approaching, all smiles.

“Uh-oh,” she said to Reardon. “Here comes your landlady.”

He stood up when Sara stopped by the table. She greeted Leda and then turned to Reardon.

“Well, Mr. Reardon, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Why not?” Leda replied, standing between him and Sara. “I would have thought my aunt told you he was coming.”

Sara flushed slightly at that but, undaunted, tried again. “This must be quite a change for you,” she said to Reardon, craning her neck around Leda.

“It is,” he said stiffly.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Yes. It’s a very nice party.”

She shifted her gaze to Leda. “And what a surprise you turned out to be, young lady.”

“I don’t know how you can say that, Sara. You know I can always be counted on to do something unconventional.”

Reardon turned away to hide his smile.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Sara replied huffily. “I was unaware that you knew my tenant, that’s all.”

Leda nodded. “Really? I didn’t think there was much about him that you missed. But then again, I wasn’t sending him any mail so how would you have guessed?”

Sara’s mouth fell open, and Leda seized the opportunity to nudge Reardon toward the dance floor. They danced for a few numbers, and then he said into her ear, “Let’s blow this joint. I think these people have seen enough.”

“I agree,” Leda said airily, and they walked together across the room and out the door. She could hear the buzz of conversation start up behind them.

“Saddle shoes,” he said as he presented the ticket for her coat, “I think we pulled it off.”

Leda smiled as she slipped into her jacket. “They’ll be talking about this for years to come, the old fuddy-duddies.”

Reardon put his arm around her. “Let’s go home,” he said huskily.

“Let’s,” Leda responded.

Back at her apartment, Reardon made love to Leda with an intensity she had not experienced before, although he had always been ardent. This was different: he seemed to be trying to posses her spiritually as well as physically, calling her name over and over, driving into her with a force that left her almost frightened. Afterward, they were both exhausted and drifted into sleep.

In the morning, Reardon left for Harrisburg and another hearing on his license. He had gotten the time off from Jim Kendall and wanted Leda to go with him. But she had her final performance to give at the playhouse and wanted to attend the wrap party afterward, so she stayed in Yardley. It was difficult to say goodbye to all the new friends she had made among the cast, some of whom she was sure she would never see again. Chip Caswell brought a nubile redhead to the party. The newcomer was the subject of much commentary, and Leda was happy to agree with Anna that Chip had finally given up on his leading lady. Anna had signed on with the touring company and was due to leave the next day. Leda said her farewells and left the party early, determined to have another look at her father’s records.

The pile of things she had examined was growing ominously, and it had yielded nothing. She spent another fruitless evening going through some new material, and finally gave up, turning at last to a strongbox at the bottom of one of the bins. She had examined the contents once before and dismissed them: her father’s wallet and keys, a lighter and half a pack of cigarettes, some other odds and ends. She took a closer look at the wallet now, and her eyes misted over when she found a picture of herself enclosed in a cellophane window, backed by a faded snapshot of her mother. She opened the billfold and found some singles, a five, and a folded sheet of notepaper. She took it out, opening it idly, thinking that it was probably an old grocery list or a reminder to make a dental appointment.

It was a memo, similar to the countless others she had been perusing. She read it routinely. Then, her heart beating faster, she read it again.

From: C. Bradshaw To: K. Reardon Re: Test of B-123 fuel. Under no circumstances conduct test of B-123 fuel as planned, preliminaries reveal compound to be unstable. Repeat, test is not to be conducted in my absence. Will discuss upon my return.

It was dated two days before the fatal explosion, and signed by her father.

Leda stared at the paper in her hand in stunned disbelief, and then watched as it fell to the floor.

Chapter 9

Reardon had lied to her. He’d been lying all along. She tried to remember exactly what he’d said at the Logan Inn when she questioned him about her father forbidding the test. He had never answered her directly; instead he had launched into his sabotage story, and she’d believed him.

The truth was right under her nose. Reardon had disobeyed a direct order and killed all those people with his negligence, including her father, who had died as a result of it. Reardon was responsible and deserved to go to jail.

Leda couldn’t absorb it. Why was the memo here, secreted in her father’s wallet, where it was never found? Had her father sought to protect Reardon, or had Reardon hidden it? No, no, that didn’t make sense. Nothing made any sense, except one clear fact: Reardon was guilty, just as everyone said.

Leda stood up abruptly, and the contents of the strongbox fell to the floor. She couldn’t face Reardon, knowing this. She wouldn’t do anything to get him into further trouble, but she couldn’t pretend that all was the same as before either. She knew that it was cowardly, but she had to get away. And she had the perfect passport out of town—the acting company that was about to go on tour.

Wiping her streaming eyes, she called her agent and asked if she could still audition for a spot. She was told to be in New York the next morning to talk to the manager of the company, who had seen her perform at the playhouse and expressed an interest. Leda asked her agent to call him and tell him that she wanted the job. Almost as soon as she replaced the phone the manager called her back and said that she had it, if she could work out the details with him in the morning. Leda said that she could, hung up, and went straight to her bedroom to pack.

When she came back out with her suitcase, she looked around the apartment and set it on the floor. She had to leave a note for Claire. She grabbed a piece of notepaper and scribbled something about a change in plans and being unable to turn down such a wonderful chance, and stuck it through the mail slot in Claire’s door. Then she called Anna and told her that she would be joining her in Atlanta the following day, where the company would already be in rehearsal. Anna was full of questions about Reardon, but Leda silenced her by saying that she would explain it all when she saw her.

That left the problem of Monica. Amazed at her own calm handling of the situation, Leda dialed her aunt’s number, mentally rehearsing what she would say to her.

“Hi, it’s me,” Leda began when Monica answered the phone.

“I see. Fresh from your triumph at the country club?” Monica responded sourly.

Leda put her hand over her mouth for a second to stifle a sob. Then, clearing her throat, she said, “I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be going out of town for a while. I just got a great offer to travel with a Shakespearean company and I’m going to take it. The first booking is in Atlanta, and I’m going straight there. I’ll call you with the information about where I’m staying, and with the rest of the itinerary, dates and places and so on. Okay?”

There was a protracted silence. Then, “Leda, tell me the truth. Is this some cover story for the fact that you’re running away with that Reardon man?”

Leda closed her eyes. “No, Monica. I’m going on tour. Anna is going too, we’ll be together, roommates probably.”

“Kind of sudden, isn’t it? You didn’t say anything about this to me before now.”

“I just found out about it myself, and I really should jump at the chance. It’s great experience.”

“What about your undying love for Kyle Reardon?”

“That’s all over,” Leda whispered.

Monica didn’t try to conceal her relief. “Well, thank God you finally came to your senses. What happened?”

“I can’t talk about that now. I have to run.”

“Wait a minute, Leda. A few days ago you stood in my kitchen defending him to the death, and now you’re taking off for the hills with no explanation other than ‘that’s all over’? You’ll have to do better than that, young lady.”

“And I will, but it’s too much to go into right at the moment.” Leda took a deep breath, hoping that she would be able to end this conversation without her aunt suspecting how close she was to breaking down. “I’ll call you as soon as I get to Atlanta. Goodbye.”

Monica was calling her name as she hung up.

Leda found some tissues, blew her nose, and picked up her suitcase and purse.

When the phone began to ring again she ignored it and headed for the door. Then she paused on the threshold, looking back.

If she didn’t leave Kyle some kind of message he would come after her. He would find out where she had gone, follow her, and undoubtedly create a highly emotional scene she would rather avoid.

He would return in three days, possibly sooner when she didn’t answer her phone. She had to take action to convince him to leave her alone. She got another sheet of notepaper and wrote:
 

I
have been reading my father’s records. I found the memo and I know the truth. I’m going away on tour, please don’t come after me. I’m sorry it worked out this way.

She signed her name, barely able to see through her tears, and left the note on the kitchen table where he would be sure to find it. Then, crying uncontrollably, she grabbed up her things and ran out of the house.

* * * *

The audition the next day was perfunctory, and Leda flew out of Kennedy to join Anna and the rest of the company, already in rehearsal in Atlanta.

Reardon came back to Yardley the next day, alarmed that he hadn’t been able to contact Leda. When he walked into the living room of her apartment and saw the contents of the strongbox on the floor, he knew something was dreadfully wrong. Fearing for Leda’s safety, he ran from room to room and saw the half empty closet in her bedroom and the open space where her suitcase had been. His fear turning to the dread of loss, he walked slowly back into the kitchen, where he found the note.

He read it, knowing what he was going to see before he saw it. Then he sat in a chair and folded his arms on the table before him, resting his forehead on the cushion they provided. He remained motionless for some time, enervated by despair.

Looking up at length, he rubbed his eyes and crushed the note he still held into a ball, throwing it across the room.

She had found the memo. He knew what that meant. He had to locate her and explain. His only thought was to get to the playhouse and ask her friends where she had gone. On the way out he checked the apartment next door, but Claire was not home. He ran back to the street and set out for New Hope.

Nobody there knew where Leda was. The director was in his office, but all he could tell Reardon was that he’d heard Leda signed on with a tour at the last minute, the same one Anna Fleming had joined. He suggested a visit to Leda’s aunt. Reardon nodded wearily, thanking him. Monica Donlon was the last person on earth he wanted to see, but he was fairly sure she would know where Leda was.