There’s a pause, and I sense him weighing his words.
“I don’t think I’ve ever told this to a soul, because I figured it was none of my business, but the summer before junior year, I saw him oncein a restaurant with another woman. She was attractive, blond, I think, and maybe thirtyish, so definitely not a student. And definitely not his wife because I knew what Mrs. Handler looked like.”
I bite my lip, letting the image form in my mind.
“Could it have been a colleague? Or a friend?”
“Nah, they seemed flirty, and at one point he had his hand on top of hers. The location was kind of a red flag, too. They were in Rhinebeck, my hometown. That’s an hour and a half drive from Cartersville, which made me think they were on the down-low.”
So, from the sound of it, Handlerdoesstep out on his lovely second wife. Or at least he did in the past.
“Okay, thanks, Harry. Just so you know, I don’t have a good reason to suspect Handler of anything, so please don’t breathe this to a soul.”
“Got it. Just promise you’ll let me know if there’s any news.”
“Promise.”
I’ve been gone at least fifteen minutes by now, and Logan is probably pacing the lobby, ready to eat the drapes, but I take a minute to pull my thoughts together. Though the woman Handler looked tight with in the restaurant hadn’t been college age, he might be open to the idea under the right circumstances, just as he was with Alison. There was the little scene in his office, after all.
Of course, it’s a big leap to think he was involved with Mel, and yet if he’s got a preference for young women, I can certainly see him being drawn to someone like her—smart, pretty, intriguing, and with a level of New York City–born sophistication that might suggest she could be discreet.
Would she have been game? I’d be disappointed to learn she’d been involved with another woman’s husband, especially in light of my own situation, but I can picture Handler’s allure back then: the supposedly brilliant, erudite, accomplished poet, and a way to, quote, “shake things up” after Jack. Besides, she was only nineteen, an age known for making regrettable choices.
I finally force myself off the bed and swap the blouse I’ve had on all day for a fresh one. I make a quick attempt to fluff my hair. It’s so slicked to my head that I look like a small dog who’s just emerged from its bath.
As I start for the door, my mind remains stalled on Handler. If he does pursue college girls, he’s probably damn careful about it. Being caught sleeping with a student would not only cost him tenure but also make it really tough for him to secure another teaching job.
What if hethoughthe was getting away with it and then realized the secret was in danger of being revealed, that a girl who initially seemed like the model of discretion was starting to blab to friends or reveal the affair in poems and short stories—or even worse, threatening to accuse him of misconduct?
How far would he go to protect himself?
Chapter 20
Rather than wait for the elevator, I take the stairs to the ground floor. My phone rings just as I step onto the first landing.
“Thirty seconds,” I say when I answer, certain it’s Logan.
“Shall I hold, then?” a male voice asks. Not Logan’s. When I check the screen, I see it’s an unknown caller.
“Who is this, please?”
“It’s Chip, Chip Conway. We met at dinner last night.”
This is not a call I want to be dealing with right now.
“Oh, hi, sorry,” I say. “I’m just running out for dinner. Can I ring you tomorrow?”
“Um, sure. But if you’ve got even half a minute, I wanted to give you a heads-up.”
“Okay,” I say, now on alert.
“I heard from the reporter again, and it looks like he’s preparing a second story, saying there’ve been several recent developments regarding your daughter’s case.”
I pause on the steps, catching my breath. Someone in law enforcement has clearly leaked information.
“Is he aware of what those developments are?”
“If he is, he didn’t share them with me. Is there anything you can tell me, Ms. Winter? I feel slightly on the back foot here.”
