Within Reach (37 page)

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Authors: Barbara Delinsky

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Jeffrey sighed. “Well, that’s what I’m hoping to prevent, at least to prevent from happening again. I wish Commerce was on top of this, but, damn it, I’m not sure it is. Lindsay may be effective, but his interests clearly lie with big business.”

“That might explain it, then,” Cilla observed wryly.

“Explain what?”

“The fact that he seems so narrow. I’ve been watching the guy, and he’s always straight and proper. I don’t think there’s a flexible bone in his body, much less a warm or sensitive one.”

“There has to be. He’s married, and to a stunner, I’m told.”

Cilla eyed him cautiously. She started to speak, stopped, then forced herself on. “You don’t know anything about her?”

“Only that I hear she’s beautiful and that she’s Bill Marshall’s daughter.”

“Nothing else?”

It was Jeffrey’s turn to grow cautious. “You know something that I don’t.”

“When was the last time you saw Mike?”

“Your brother? Last summer.”

“But you’ve spoken to him since.”

“A couple of times.”

“And he didn’t say anything about the woman he was seeing?”

Jeffrey frowned. “Come to think of it, I’ve asked him several times if there was anything new in the legs department and he deftly avoided the issue each time. Is there someone?”

Cilla wondered if she had put her foot in her mouth. But she really did trust Jeffrey. And she knew that Jeffrey trusted Michael and vice versa. “Maybe he was trying to protect her,” she murmured.

“Protect who?”

Cilla puffed out her cheeks, then let the air seep through her lips. “He’s in love, Jeff. My brother Michael is very thoroughly and sadly in love.”

“Why ‘sadly’?”

“Because the woman he loves is Danica Lindsay.”

“The wife? You have to be kidding!”

She was shaking her head. “I wish I was. Not that Danica isn’t every bit as wonderful as he thinks. I Danica isn’t every bit as wonderful as he thinks. I spent some time with her at Mike’s place last summer. She’s a fantastic person, just perfect for him.”

“But she is married.”

“Umm-hmmmmm, though not happily, from what Michael says. That’s why I’ve been watching the husband. He seems totally, and I mean totally, devoted to his job. I keep trying to figure out if there’s another woman, but he seems removed from anything like that. Unless he’s being very sly about it.”

“I’d think he would, given his position. Geez, Mike’s in love with
his
wife? That takes a little getting used to. I never thought of Mike as the type to go for a married woman.”

“Because of Dad, you mean.”

“And because he’s so straitlaced. Hell, when we were in college, he wouldn’t even look at another guy’s girl.”

“Jeffrey…”

“Okay, so he’d look. We’d both look. But if I liked what I saw, I’d go up and talk with her. Mike wouldn’t.”

“Well, I think this situation is a little different. He fell for her before he knew she was married. She loves him, too.”

“Jeeeeez. Will she divorce Lindsay?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Blake Lindsay was a successful businessman before he came down here. He supports Danica in the style to which she’s accustomed, and he happens to be in good with her father.”

Jeffrey’s thoughts were running further. “Lindsay was in microelectronics, wasn’t he?”

“Mmmm. I’d think you’d want to talk with him about your own work.”

“Ve-ry carefully. Commerce and Defense have had their differences. But if I could strike up a casual conversation with the man in some nonofficial context, maybe I could pick up something.”

“For Michael or you?”

“Both,” Jeffrey mused, liking the idea more and more. Then he grinned. “I’d also like to meet this woman. She must be something to have snagged Mike.”

Cilla returned his grin. “I can arrange a meeting once summer comes. That’s when she spends most of her time in Maine. Her house just happens to be down the beach from Michael’s. Of course, you’d have to drive up with me for several days.”

Jeffrey found he liked that idea nearly as much as the idea of slyly seeking Blake Lindsay out. But while he left the former for Cilla to arrange, he was on his own regarding the latter. For several weeks he looked for an opening, then finally found it when one of his superiors mentioned in passing that the Secretaries of Agriculture, Transportation and Commerce were going to be at a large dinner party and that it wouldn’t hurt to have a representative from Defense present. Jeffrey promptly volunteered.

 

 

 

There were nearly three hundred people at the party, which was held on the lawn of a sprawling home in Virginia, but Jeffrey had no trouble locating the face he sought.

“Handsome bugger, isn’t he?”

Cilla, who had come along for the ride partly because Jeff had invited her and partly because she was dying with curiosity to see what he would learn, nodded. “He does stand out in a crowd. Dark hair, classic features, a smile that dazzles, a tuxedo that—”

“I get the point, Cilla. You don’t have to rub it in.”

Her arm was already through his elbow, partly because she was having through his elbow, partly because she was having trouble standing on the lawn in high heels, but she held it tighter. “I didn’t say I preferred his looks to yours. There’s something untouchable about him. I like to touch.”

Jeffrey grinned down at her. “So I’ve noticed. By the way, you look gorgeous.”

She was wearing a strapless gown whose hem was ragged by design and vaguely wanton. “I was going to wear red, but pale pink seemed more sedate.”

“Sedate?” he echoed hoarsely, then cleared his throat. “Okay. If you say so.” He couldn’t take his eyes from a taunting hint of cleavage.

Cilla leaned even closer, putting her mouth to his ear. “Do you remember that time we were at the Dittrichs’, when we slipped into the gardener’s shed and—”

“Christ, Cilla,” he cut her off. “What are you trying to do to me? I have a mission here, or have you forgotten?”

“Not me. I just wanted to make sure
you
hadn’t.”

“I hadn’t.” I hadn’t.” He cleared his throat again and looked across the lawn. “Come on. Let’s ease over this way.” He saw Blake Lindsay in the distance; that was where he headed. Then, abruptly, he halted.

“What’s wrong?”

“Damn it,” he swore through his teeth.

“What is it, Jeff?”


You
. My God, I must be out of it. Either that or you’ve well and truly got me wrapped around your little finger.”

Cilla screwed up her face. “What are you talking about? I haven’t done a thing.”

He patted the slender hand that clutched his arm. “No, hon. It’s not your fault.
I
’m the one who should have realized.” He lowered his voice even more. “It wasn’t very bright, my bringing you here.”

“Why ever not? Nearly all the men have dates.”

“That’s not the point. In my own mind I think of you as Cilla Winston. But you’re not, are you? You’re Cilla
Buchanan
. All we need is for Lindsay to hear that name, and if he knows anything about what his wife is doing, he’ll be suspicious.”

Cilla looked stricken. “I hadn’t thought of that. Damn it, I should have.”

“We
both
should have. But look, there’s nothing we can do now except steer clear of each other for a while. There may be one or two people here who know we’ve been married, but if we put a little distance between us, others may not make the connection.”

“Much as I hate the thought, I think you’re right.”

“Good girl.” He gave her bottom a light pat, then moved off, confident that Cilla could fend for herself. She was a strong woman, he mused, and while there were times when he wished she was a bit less so, at the moment he was grateful.

He continued on at an ambling pace, stopping from time to time to acknowledge a familiar face, but maintaining a steady direction. Luck was on his side. The man with Lindsay was someone he knew, giving him the perfect excuse to approach.

“Thomas, how are you?”

Thomas Fenton turned his head, then grinned. “Jeff Winston!” He offered one hand and slapped Jeffrey’s shoulder with the other. “Good to see you. Where have you been?”

“Not playing tennis, unfortunately.” The two men were members of the same tennis club. Occasionally, when they found themselves without other partners, they played each other. “Gotta get back to it.” He patted his stomach. “Everything’s going to pot.” He cast a glance at Blake, prompting Thomas to make the introductions.

“Blake, this is Jeff Winston. A good man. Mean serve. Jeff, Secretary Lindsay.”

Jeff offered his hand to Blake’s cool, practiced shake. “I’ve been following your work, Mr. Secretary. It’s impressive.”

Blake thanked him, and for several minutes the two men talked of relatively general, harmless matters dealing with life in Washington and the Claveling presidency. When Thomas Fenton excused himself and moved away, Jeffrey began to close in. He was hoping to learn whatever he could about the decision-making hierarchy of a corporation such as the one Blake had headed before his appointment. “I understand you had experience as an administrator back in Boston.”

“That’s right. My firm grew to be larger than I had originally expected. It took a lot of watching over.”

Jeffrey gave him a quizzical smile. “I’ve always been fascinated by bureaucratic hierarchies. I assume you had underlings to help.”

“I had to. There were four different divisions, each with a chief. I held regular briefings with them, though they handled the details of day-to-day production themselves.”

“You set policy, of course.”

Blake shrugged with one brow, nearly imperceptibly, duly modest. “It was my company.”

“Were you the contact for sales, or did you have a special sales force?”

“There was a sales force, but the contacts were mine.”

Jeffrey sighed in appreciation. “Not bad. Plenty of responsibility on your shoulders, though. You must have had the final word on what of your products went where.”

Blake only had time to nod before two other couples joined them, and Jeffrey knew his chance was gone. He had wanted to ask if there was ever occasion when something happened that Blake didn’t know about, such as one of his division chiefs channeling a sale on his own. Jeffrey would have been interested in knowing whether, in his own investigation, he had to look further into the bureaucracy than simply the top. But it was lost for now. He was bemoaning his fate when his ear perked up. One of the women was asking about Blake’s wife.

“I haven’t seen Mrs. Lindsay here. Couldn’t she make it?”

Blake smiled with just the right amount of regret and shook his head. “She’s back in Boston. She does a radio show there now.”

“How exciting!”

“Yes. It’s a current affairs talk show. Unfortunately, she has to spend hours each week preparing for it, so she can’t spend as much time here as she’d like.”

“You must miss her,” the second woman observed.

“I do. But she’s a modern woman doing her thing. I’m proud of her.”

One of the men slapped him on the back. “You should be. She’s a feather in any man’s cap. Speaking of feathers in one’s cap, you must be very pleased with the import restrictions the White House announced this week…”

When the conversation took off along more political lines, Jeffrey stood by, observing Blake. After several minutes, when others approached, he excused himself from the group as unobtrusively as possible. He mingled, talking with whoever happened to be close, scanning the crowd to keep track of Cilla, all the while trying to crystallize in his mind the impression he’d gotten of Blake Lindsay based on those few short minutes with him. Much later, on the way home, he discussed his feelings.

“It’s strange, Cilla. He eludes me. You were right in that he’s straight and proper. He says all the right things, makes all the right gestures. When he was asked about his wife, he gave a perfectly plausible explanation for her absence, even set the scene for her continuing absence. He claimed to miss her, but he seemed happiest when he was talking shop.”

“Did you pick up anything on that score?”

“Not as much as I’d hoped. But look, maybe it was a half-assed idea anyway. I’d probably do better consulting with some less conspicuous corporate head. I had to be careful with Lindsay; I didn’t want to sound too inquisitive.”

“You can do that, Mr. Winston.”

“Mmmm, but I have been better on that score, haven’t I?”

“You have.” She snuggled closer to his side. “I think we both have.”

 

 

 

“I have a proposition, Dani.”

“Uh-oh. Another one.”

“This one’s really exciting.”

“Okay. Shoot.”

It was early June. Danica was spending several days in Maine before returning to Boston to wrap things up before the summer. She no longer talked with Blake every week, but only on those occasions when he called to say that he wanted her with him on a particular date. She had refused him several times, yielding only when he pointedly mentioned that her father would be at a particular affair.

It wasn’t that her father still intimidated her; she meant what she’d told Michael, that she had reached a point where she was beyond that. Rather, her deference was well planned, her mind set. The matter of divorce was between her and Blake. When they came to an arrangement—and she was sure it would eventually happen, because she didn’t believe that Blake would take her animosity forever—she would simply inform William of their decision. She didn’t want to give him cause for involvement any earlier, and at that late point his arguments would be moot.

“It’s about a treasure hunt,” Michael said.

“Sounds interesting.”

“There’s this fellow I know—actually, he’s an army buddy—who’s into salvaging.”

“Treasure hunting sounds better.”

Michael grinned. “You are a romantic, d’ you know that?”

“I guess I am. Funny, when I was first married, I thought the most romantic things were the cards and flowers and gifts Blake would give me.”

“And now?”

“They seem drab. Programmed. He never forgets a formal occasion, but the gifts are a travesty, given the ill will between us. I don’t know why he even bothers. The feeling isn’t there. Actually, I think his secretary does the dirty work. She must have all the proper occasions marked on her calendar.”

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