George looked up at her. “What’s your problem?”
“Are you serious?” she said. “If you don’t know, then it sure as hell isn’t worth discussing.” She left the room and started walking down the long hallway. She was aware that he was following her.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
She wanted to put distance between them. She quickened her pace. “I don’t know,” she said. “To the self-help section at Borders?”
“Would you stop for a minute? Please?”
Celina kept walking until she reached the entryway. And then she stopped.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
A thousand thoughts spun through her mind. “You know something, Dad? I called you this morning because you were the only person I could turn to, because I thought you could help. Never once did I think I’d be leaving feeling worse than when I came. I thought our relationship was a hell of a lot more important than any deal we might have with WestTex.”
She went down the brick stairs and stepped into her car. George stood in the open doorway and watched her red Mercedes race down the winding cobblestone driveway to the black iron gates that were at the base of the hill.
It hadn’t been his intention to hurt her, but he had and he was angry with himself. He could hear the sound of her car coming to a stop. He imagined the gates opening, welcoming her in a way that he hadn’t, and then he heard the roar of the engine as the car shot through.
He wondered where she was going. If she didn’t come back for the meeting, he couldn’t blame her. He stepped back into the house and went to his office.
Across the room, on his desk, were three telephones. George chose one and dialed Eric’s apartment at Redman Place. The line rang several times before it was answered by a woman-a voice George didn’t expect or recognize.
She seemed out of breath.
“Yes?” she said.
“I’m sorry,” George said. “I must have dialed the wrong number.”
“George?”
He hesitated. The voice was vaguely familiar now. Then he recognized it. “Diana?”
“Yes,” she said. “And you didn’t dial the wrong number. I’m here with Eric.” She was talking oddly fast. “He needed legal advice on the presentation he’s working on for WestTex. I offered to help.”
“I should hope so,” George said. “That’s your job. Could you put Eric on the line, please?”
“Of course.”
He listened to the muffled sound of a hand being placed over the receiver. There was a brief exchange of words, then Eric came on the line.
“George,” he said. “This is a surprise.”
“Is it?” George said. “Then let me give you another. I know what happened the night of the party. Celina told me everything.”
Silence.
“I want your ass out of Redman International by tomorrow morning. You’re fired. If you’re not out by noon, I’ll have you charged with trespassing. And then I’ll take it a step further.”
George climbed the stairs two at a time.
Leana’s bedroom was on the second floor, next to Celina’s old bedroom. As he walked down the hallway, he could see the door to her bedroom was closed.
Or so he thought.
When he knocked on the door, it edged slightly open. George waited a moment, called Leana’s name twice and entered the room when there was no answer.
Large cardboard boxes filled with his daughter’s clothes crowded the center of the room. Empty bureaus stood with their drawers open. Her closets and walls were bare.
He moved around the room, glancing at each box as he passed it. She had packed quickly. Her clothes were stuffed into the boxes. It was clear that she planned on leaving as soon as possible.
And why not? Leana knew there were no secrets between Celina and him. She knew that sooner or later he would confront her with what she had done. Of course, she wanted out. Ever since she was a child, she had dodged responsibility. And now, as George stood in the middle of her bedroom, feeling its emptiness almost as surely as he had felt for years his youngest daughter’s rage, he decided that if she wanted to be on her own, she would have to do it on her own. Not with his money.
He came down the stairs and found Carlos, their butler, adjusting a flower arrangement in the entryway. He had worked for the Redmans for nearly twenty years.
“Any idea where Leana is, Carlos? She’s not in her bedroom.” He had a feeling she might be sitting by the pond behind the stables. It’s where Leana went when she wanted to be alone.
Carlos looked surprised. “She left last night, Mr. Redman, before you and Mrs. Redman returned from Manhattan. I thought you knew.”
“No,” George said. “I didn’t know. Are you aware that she’s moving out?”
He nodded. “She left yesterday. I offered to help carry her bags to her car, but she insisted on doing it herself. Before she left, she told me that she would send for the rest of her things tomorrow. She asked me not to touch anything until then.”
Although Carlos would not tell George this, Leana also had hugged and kissed him goodbye. She told him how much he had meant to her over the years. She said that she felt closer to him than to her own father.
“Did she say where she was going?”
“I asked, Mr. Redman, but she wouldn’t say.”
“You’re positive?” George said. “Did she mention Manhattan?” It would be a place to start looking if she had.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Redman. She didn’t.”
George sighed. “Tell me if she comes home. And if I’m not here when she comes-if she comes-see if you can find out where she’s living. Leana’s always trusted you and it’s important that I know.”
“Of course-and Mr. Redman?”
“Yes?”
“This is none of my business, but I’m worried about Miss Redman. She wasn’t herself when she left here last night.”
This was new. In all the years George had known Carlos, he couldn’t remember a time when he ever involved himself in a family matter.
“How wasn’t she herself?”
Carlos was silent a moment, the memory of seeing Leana when she returned from the party still fresh in his mind. He had been in his room reading when he heard the front door slam shut. Curious, he had slipped into his black alpaca jacket and went to the entryway. There he found Leana, leaning against the door, her clothes tousled and damp from the rain. Her hair wet, stringy. Her face…
“Carlos?”
The man made his decision and said, “It was her face, Mr. Redman. It was bruised and swollen. There were marks at her throat, her eyes were nearly shut and she was bleeding from her mouth. I checked her car, thinking she’d had an accident, but it was fine. I think she was beaten.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Leana awoke with a start. Someone was pounding on her bedroom door. She lifted her head from the pillow and winced, the sudden movement causing pain to course through her neck, shoulders and back.
She sat up in bed.
Tried to sit up in bed. The movement took unexpected effort and Leana soon found that her entire body ached. Eric, she thought.
She laid back down and turned to look at the clock on the bedside table. The red digital numbers were nowhere to be found. Neither was her bedside table. Puzzlement went through her. And then she remembered.
She wasn’t in her bedroom. She was in a suite at The Plaza Hotel.
Last night, before leaving home, she phoned The Plaza and reserved one of the permanent suites Redman International kept for visiting guests. It was here that she would stay until she found an apartment of her own.
The hammering on the door intensified. Leana struggled into a seated position and listened. The sound was coming from the next room. Faintly, she could hear a man’s voice. “Open the door, Leana. Now.”
She felt a chill. It was her father. But how? She had told no one she was here. How did he find out? And then she knew. She was escorted here last evening by the hotel’s manager, a friend of her father’s. Although he hadn’t mentioned her appearance, the look in the man’s eyes reflected his concern. Leana made him promise not to tell her father that she was here. She didn't want to deal with George and Elizabeth until the time was right. She had hoped the man would keep silent longer.