by Sandra Brown
Alex’s heart was thudding with gladness, disbelief, and emotions that were too complex to examine. “You mean that you never—”
“No. We never.”
She believed him. There was no mendacity in his expression, only bitterness, and perhaps a trace of regret. “Hadn’t you heard of birth control?”
“I used rubbers with other girls, but—”
“So there were others?”
“I’m not a monk, for crissake. The Gail sisters,” he said with a shrug, “lots of others. There were always willing girls available.”
“Especially to you.” He shot her a hard look. “Why weren’t you concerned that you’d impregnate one of them?”
“They all slept around. I would be one of many.”
“But Celina would have slept only with you.”
“That’s right.”
“Until she went to El Paso and met Al Gaither,” Alex mused out loud. “He was just a means to make you jealous, wasn’t he?” On a humorless laugh, she added, “She overshot her mark and manufactured me.”
They lapsed into silence. Alex didn’t even notice. She was lost in her turbulent thoughts about her mother, Reede, and their unconsummated love affair.
“It’s really beautiful up here at night, isn’t it?” she said dreamily, unaware that almost half an hour had passed since they had last spoken.
“I thought you’d fallen asleep.”
“No.” She watched a bank of clouds drift between them and the moon. “Did you ever take my mother flying?”
“A few times.”
“At night?”
He hesitated. “Once.”
“Did she like it?”
“She was scared, as I recall.”
“They gave her hell, didn’t they?”
“Who?”
“Everybody. When word got out that Celina Graham was pregnant, I’ll bet the gossip spread like wildfire.”
“You know how it is in a small town.”
“I kept her from graduating high school.”
“Look, Alex, you didn’t keep her from doing anything,” he argued angrily. “All right, she made a mistake. She got too hot with a soldier boy, or he took advantage of her. However the hell it happened, it happened.”
With the edge of his hand, he chopped the air between them in a gesture of finality. “You didn’t have anything to do with the act or the consequences of it. You said so yourself, just a few hours ago. Remember?”
“I’m not condemning my mother or stigmatizing myself, Reede. I feel sorry for her. She couldn’t attend school, even though she was legally married.”
Alex wrapped her arms around her sides, giving herself a huge hug. “I think she was a very special lady. She could have given me up for adoption, but she didn’t. Even after my father was killed, she kept me with her. She loved me and was willing to make tremendous sacrifices for me.
“She had the courage to carry me in a town where everybody was talking about her. Don’t bother denying it. I know they did. She was popular; she fell from grace. Anyone harboring malice toward her was delighted. That’s human nature.”
“If they were, they didn’t dare show it.”
“Because you were still her knight, weren’t you?”
“Junior and me.”
“You closed ranks around her.”
“I guess you could put it like that.”
“Your friendship probably meant more to her then than at any other time.” He gave a noncommittal lift of his shoulders.
She studied his profile for a moment. The rocky path had led her to the cliff, and she was about to take the plunge. “Reede, if Celina hadn’t died, would you have gotten married?”
“No.”
He answered without a second’s hesitation. Alex was surprised. She didn’t quite believe him. “Why not?”
“Lots of reasons, but essentially, because of Junior.”
She hadn’t expected that. “What about him?”
“While Celina was pregnant, they became very close. He just about had her talked into marrying him when she… died.”
“Do you think she would have, eventually?”
“I don’t know.” He slid Alex a sardonic glance. “Junior’s quite a ladies’ man. He can be very persuasive.”
“Look, Reede, I told Sarah Jo, now I’m telling you, that—”
“Shh! They’re passing us off to Austin radar.” He spoke into the headset. When the formalities had been dispensed with, he coaxed someone in the airport tower to arrange a rental car for him. By the time he had gone through that procedure, they were approaching the lighted runway. “Buckled up?”
“Yes.”
He executed a flawless landing. Alex thought later that she must have been in a daze, because she barely remembered getting from the plane to the rented car. Without having to concentrate, she gave Reede directions to her condo.
It was located in a fashionable, yuppie neighborhood where Evian was the drink of preference, every kitchen had a wok, and membership in a health club was as mandatory as a driver’s license.
A line of thunderstorms hadn’t hampered their flight, but had moved in over the city by the time they reached her street. Raindrops began to splatter the windshield. Thunder rumbled.
“The one with all the newspapers scattered in the yard,” Alex told him.
“You’re a public prosecutor. Don’t you know better than to advertise to thieves that you’re out of town? Or is that your way of drumming up business?”
“I forgot to stop delivery.”
He pulled to the curb, but he didn’t turn off the motor. Several days ago, Alex would have been jubilant at the thought of returning home, just for a temporary respite from the Westerner Motel, but as she looked at the front door now, she felt no enthusiasm for going inside. The tears that clouded her vision weren’t tears of joy.
“I’ve been gone for almost three weeks.”
“Then I’d better walk up with you.” He turned off the ignition and got out, impervious to the rain. He walked with her up the sidewalk, picking up the outdated newspapers as he went. He tossed them into a corner of her covered porch as she unlocked the door. “Don’t forget to throw those papers away tomorrow,” he said.
“No, I won’t.” She reached inside and cut off her alarm system, which had begun to hum the moment she opened the door. “I guess that means it’s safe inside.”
“Do you want to meet at the airport tomorrow, or what?”
“Uh…” She couldn’t think beyond him driving away, leaving her alone in her condo. “I hadn’t thought about it.”
“I’ll drop by the D.A.’s office around noon and ask for you. How’s that?”
“Fine. I should be finished by then.”
“Okay, see ya.” He turned to leave.
“Reede.” Instinctively she reached for him, but when he turned, she pulled her hand back. “Would you like some coffee before you go?”
“No, thanks.”
“Where are you going now?”
“I won’t know till I get there.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Messing around.”
“Oh, well…”
“You’d better get inside.”
“I haven’t paid you yet.”
“For what?”
“The plane, your time.”
“No charge.”
“I insist.”
He cursed. “The one thing I’m not going to argue with you about is money. Got that? Now, good night.”
He turned and took two long strides before she called his name again. When he came back around, his eyes bore into hers. “I don’t want to be alone tonight,” she admitted in a rush. Even with all the crying she’d done that afternoon, her supply of tears hadn’t been exhausted. They began to roll down her cheeks as steadily as the rainfall. “Please don’t go, Reede. Stay with me.”
He moved back beneath the overhang, but his hair and shoulders were already damp. Placing his han
ds on his hips, he demanded, “Why?”
“I just told you why.”
“You’ve got to have a better reason than that, or you wouldn’t have asked.”
“All right,” she shouted at him, “I feel like crap. Is that reason enough?”
“No.”
“I’m hurting for what my mother must have suffered for my sake,” she said, making a swipe at her leaking eyes.
“I’m no doctor.”
“I need to be held.”
“Sorry. I’ve got other plans.”
“Don’t you care that I’m appealing to you for help?”
“Not really.”
She hated him for making her beg. Nevertheless, she threw down the last vestiges of her pride and said, “My Grandma Graham died resenting me for ruining Celina’s life. She wanted her to marry Junior, and blamed my untimely birth when that didn’t happen. Now, dammit,” she said, “I need to know that you don’t despise me, too.
“Can you imagine how terrible I feel, knowing that I’m the reason my mother married another man when she loved you? If it hadn’t been for me, you could have married her, had children, loved each other for the rest of your lives. Reede, please stay with me tonight.”
He closed the distance between them, backed her into the wall, and gave her a hard shake. “You want me to hold you and tell you that everything is okay, and that the sun will come out tomorrow and things will look better?”
“Yes!”
“Well, for your information, Counselor, I don’t do bedtime stories. When I spend the night with a woman, it’s not because I want to comfort her if she’s hurting, or cheer her up if she’s sad.” He took a step closer. His eyes narrowed until they were mere slits. “And it’s for damn sure not because I want to play daddy.”
Chapter 28
Gregory Harper, district attorney of Travis County, Texas, was clearly furious. He was on his third cigarette in five minutes. His anger was directed toward his assistant, who was seated on the other side of his desk, looking like she’d been socked hard in both eyes.
“Who’ve you been sleeping with, Dracula? You look like you’ve been sucked dry,” Greg remarked with characteristic abrasiveness.
“Could we stick to one crushing blow at a time, please? Don’t confuse the issue.”
“Crushing blow? Oh, you mean the part where I told you that your investigation is over and done with and you’re to return to Austin pronto, posthaste, lickety-split, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, haul ass?”
“Yes, that crushing blow.” Alex flattened her hands on the edge of his desk. “Greg, you can’t ask me to drop it now.”
“I’m not asking—I’m telling.” He left his swivel chair and moved to the window. “What the fuck have you been doing out there, Alex? The governor called me yesterday, and he was pissed. I mean p-i-s-s-e-d.”
“He’s always pissed at you.”
“That’s beside the point.”
“Hardly. Greg, everything you do is politically motivated. Don’t pretend it isn’t. I don’t blame you for it, but don’t play Mr. Clean with me just because your hand got slapped.”
“The governor thinks his racing commission can do no wrong. To admit that the commission made a mistake in selecting Minton Enterprises for a license is tantamount to the governor admitting that he made an error in judgment, too.”
“Minton Enterprises is above reproach, as far as the horse-racing business goes.”
“Oh, I see. The only hitch is that you suspect one of the Mintons is a murderer, or if not them, a peace officer. Gee, for a minute there, I thought we had a problem.”
“You don’t have to get sarcastic.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “To hear the governor yesterday, Angus Minton is a cross between the tooth fairy and Buffalo Bill Cody.”
Alex smiled at the analogy, which was uncannily accurate. “That’s a fair assessment, but that doesn’t mean he’s incapable of killing someone.”
“What happened to his barn the other night?”
“How’d you know about that?”
“Just tell me what happened.”
Reluctantly, she told him about Fergus Plummet and the vandalism done to the Minton ranch. When she was finished, Greg ran a hand down his face. “You’ve upset a real big applecart, full of shiny, bright apples.” He selected another cigarette and spoke around it. It bobbed up and down with each word, making lighting it difficult. “I didn’t like this case to start with.”
“You loved it.” Alex’s nerves were already frayed, so it annoyed her even more that he was shifting all the blame to her. “You thought it might embarrass the governor, and you relished that thought.”
He braced his arms on his desk and leaned over it. “You said you were going out there to reopen your mother’s murder case. I didn’t know you were going to get a loony preacher whipped into a frenzy, a man’s barn nearly burned down, a valuable racehorse shot in the head, and offend a respected judge, who has a reputation as spotless as God’s.”
“Wallace?”
“Wallace. Apparently, he called our esteemed governor and complained about your unprofessional conduct, your handling of the case, and your unfounded accusations.” He sucked smoke into his lungs and blew it out in a gust. “Shall I go on?”
“Please,” she said wearily, knowing he would anyway.
“Okay. Chastain’s scared shitless of Wallace.”
“Chastain’s scared shitless of his own shadow. He won’t even return my calls.”
“He’s disclaimed you, washed his hands cleaner of you than Ivory soap could have done. He says you’ve been seen partying with your suspects.”
“ ‘Partying’? I’ve seen them on a few social occasions.”
“Dangerous business, Alex. We’ve got three gentlemen suspects and one lady prosecutor whose association with each goes way back. It’s all as murky as filé gumbo.”
She tried not to squirm under his incisive stare. “New tack.” Standing, she circled her chair. “This is an unsolved murder case. The investigation is viable, no matter who conducts it.”
“Okay,” he said complacently, folding his hands behind his head and leaning his chair back, “I’ll play. What have you got? No body to dig up. No murder weapon. No—”
“It was lifted out of the vet’s bag.”
“What?”
“The murder weapon.” She told him what Dr. Ely Collins had told her. “The scalpel was never returned to the elder Dr. Collins. I’ve been meaning to check the evidence room on the outside chance that it’s still there, but I doubt that it is.”
“So do I. The bottom line is that you’ve still got no weapon. Has an eyewitness come forward?”
She sighed. “During this telephone call, did the governor mention a ranch hand named Pasty Hickam?”
“So, it’s true.”
“It’s true. And please don’t insult me by trying to trap me like that again. I was going to tell you.”
“When? When were you going to slip it into the conversation that a representative of this office got involved with a cowboy who turned up dead?”
“Care to hear my side of it?” She told him about Pasty. He was frowning more than ever when she finished. “If you’re right, not only is it stupid and politically imprudent to continue this investigation, it’s dangerous. I don’t suppose anyone’s confessed.”
She made a face at him. “No. But one of them killed Celina, and probably Hickam.”
Cursing, he mashed out his cigarette. “Let’s stick to one murder at a time. If you had to arrest one of them tomorrow for killing your mother, who would it be?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Why would the old man have iced her?”
“Angus is cantankerous and shrewd. He wields a lot of power, and definitely enjoys being the boss.”
“You’re smiling.”
“He’s extremely likeable, I’ll admit.” She kept Angus’s comment about having a daughter like her t
o herself. “He’s inordinately rough on Junior. But, a slasher?” she asked rhetorically, shaking her head. “I don’t think so. It’s not his style. Besides, Angus didn’t have a motive.”
“What about Junior?”
“There’s a possibility there. He’s glib and very charming. I’m sure that everything he tells me is the truth, he just doesn’t tell me everything. I know he loved Celina. He wanted to marry her after my father was killed. Maybe she said no one too many times.”
“Conjecture and more conjecture. So, that leaves Lambert. What about him?”
Alex lowered her head and stared at her bloodless fingers. “He’s the most likely suspect, I believe.”
Greg’s chair sprang forward. “What makes you say that?”
“Motive and opportunity. He might have felt his best friend was displacing him and killed her to prevent it.”
“Pretty viable motive. What about opportunity?”
“He was at the ranch that night, but he left.”
“Are you sure? Has he got an alibi?”
“He says he was with a woman.”
“Do you believe him?”
She gave a short, bitter laugh. “Oh, yes. I can believe that. Neither he nor Junior has a problem with women.”
“Except your mother.”
“Yes,” she conceded quietly.
“What has Lambert’s alibi got to say?”
“Nothing. He won’t tell me her name. If she exists, she’s probably still around. Otherwise, what difference would it make? I’ll work on tracking her down when I get back.”
“Who says you’re going back?”
Up till now, Alex had been pacing. Returning to her chair, she appealed to him. “I’ve got to go back, Greg. I can’t leave it up in the air like this. I don’t care if the murderer is the governor himself, I’ve got to see it through to the finish.”
He nodded toward the telephone on his desk. “He’s going to call me this afternoon and ask me if you’re off the case. He expects me to say yes.”
“Even if that would mean leaving a murder unsolved?”
“Judge Wallace convinced him that you’ve got a bee up your ass and that this is a personal vendetta.”