Murder on K Street - Margaret Truman [54]
“Need the car tonight, Phil?” Simmons asked.
“No, thanks, Lyle. I’m in for the duration. You’re not using it?”
“No. I’m going out with some of the guys to do a little barhopping.”
Usually, he would have invited Phil to join them. He didn’t.
“Have fun,” Phil said. “Drive safe.”
Simmons slapped Rotondi on the back and started to leave the room. He stopped, turned, and said, “Maybe you ought to give Jeannette a call.”
“Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know. She’s uptight lately.”
“Not tonight,” Rotondi said. “Maybe tomorrow.”
Simmons had been gone less than ten minutes when the hall phone rang. It was Jeannette.
“Hi,” he said.
“I know you said you were going to spend the night studying, Phil, but I really need to talk to you.”
“Can’t it wait?”
“No, it can’t wait, Phil. Please. Pick me up in an hour. I know you have Lyle’s car.”
Why did she assume that? he wondered.
“Okay, Phil? I just need to see you.”
“All right. I’ll be there in an hour.”
He parked in front of the Alpha Phi sorority house and rang the bell. One of Jeannette’s sorority sisters answered. “I’ll get Jeannette, Phil,” she said. “Come on in.”
He waited in the small foyer until Jeannette came down the stairs. “Hi,” she said, smiling.
“Hi. Ready?”
“Sure.”
“Where to?” he asked once they were in the car.
“Let’s go someplace where we can talk. The Lane?” She was referring to a secluded dirt road on the outskirts of the campus, a popular lovers’ lane for college couples looking for privacy.
“Want some coffee?” he asked.
“No, thanks. I need to talk, not coffee.”
They drove in silence until reaching their destination. Phil maneuvered the Thunderbird into a spot between two other cars with steamed-up windows. He turned off the ignition and faced her. “I have a feeling I’m not going to like what you’re about to say.”
She looked straight ahead, saying nothing. He reached for her but she deflected his hand.
“I’m pregnant, Phil.”
He sat back and exhaled loudly. Although hearing it from her was shocking, the silent truth behind it wasn’t. It was one of the two things he expected: that she wanted to break off their relationship, or that she was pregnant.
“Are you sure?” he asked, not sure of what else to say at that moment.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, then quickly added in case it had been the wrong thing to say, “I mean, I’m sure it’s not what you want.”
“I don’t know what I want, Phil.” She looked at him, and tears streamed down her cheeks. He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, his chest muffling her sobs. Eventually, she pulled away and placed a hand against his cheek. “I love you, Phil Rotondi. I’m so sorry.”
“No, no, no, it’s okay, Jeannette. I always used protection, but maybe there was a problem with one. It’s fine. I’m surprised, of course, but it’s all right. We’ll just have to work this out.”
His mind raced, his thoughts pragmatic. What would this mean to his immediate future? He certainly hadn’t planned to be married while attending law school, but that could be managed. He thought back to what Lyle had said about Jeannette’s rich father supporting them. He didn’t want that, but maybe—
“We don’t have to work it out, Phil. I’ve made a decision.”
An abortion?
“No, Jeannette,” he said. “I don’t want you to—”
“Please listen to me, Phil.”
He silently waited for her to continue.
“The baby isn’t yours.”
Again, he sat back, this time as though having been shoved physically against the seat back.
“It’s Lyle’s,” she said softly.
“Lyle’s? How can that be?” He recognized immediately that it was a ridiculous question.
“We—you and I—haven’t been together much lately, Phil.”
“You and Lyle have been seeing each other?” His voice was hoarse.
She nodded. “Not a lot, just a few times when you weren’t available.”
“And you…?”
“Yes, we slept together. Twice. You were away at the debate competition in Wisconsin. I was feeling lonely and pretty down. I know that’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth.”
“And you called Lyle?”
“No. He invited me out for a few drinks. He said he’d promised you he’d take good care