by Sandra Brown
That’s an understatement, she thought. “You might as well hear it from me. I’m sure it will get around. Late yesterday afternoon I went to Nora Gail’s place.”
His lips parted with surprise. “Son of a bitch.”
“I needed to talk to her. It seems she’s Reede’s alibi for the night Celina was killed. Anyway, while I was there, a man got shot. There was blood, an arrest.”
Junior laughed with incredulity. “You’re kiddin’ me.”
“I wish I were,” she said grimly. “Here I am, representing the D.A.’s office, and I get involved in a shootout between two cowboys in a whorehouse.”
Suddenly it all collapsed on her. Instead of crying, she began to laugh. Once she started, she couldn’t stop. She laughed until her sides ached and tears were rolling down her cheeks. “Oh, God, can you believe it? If Greg Harper ever hears about this, he—”
“Pat Chastain won’t tell him. He has a girl out at—”
“I know,” she said, “Reede told me. He responded to the call and hustled me out. He didn’t seem to think there would be any repercussions.” She shrugged in an offhanded manner that she hoped didn’t look as phony as it felt.
“It’s good to hear you laughing for a change,” Junior commented, smiling down at her. “I’d like to stick around and cheer you up even more.” He placed his hands on her derriere and began to move them up and down. Alex pushed him away.
“If you wanted to cheer someone up, you should have gone with Stacey. She looked like she could use it.”
He glanced away guiltily. “It doesn’t take much to make her happy.”
“Because she still loves you.”
“I don’t deserve her.”
“That doesn’t matter to her. She’ll forgive you anything. She already has.”
“Of murder, you mean?”
“No. Of loving someone else—Celina.”
“Not this time, Alex,” he whispered and dipped his head to kiss her.
She dodged his well-aimed lips. “No, Junior.”
“Why not?”
“You know why.”
“Am I still only a pal?”
“A friend.”
“Why just a friend?”
“I keep getting the present mixed up with the past. Hearing you talk about wishing you could have been my father stifled my romantic inclinations.”
“When I look at you now, I can’t relate you to that tiny baby in the crib. You’re an exciting woman. I want to hold you, love you, and not like a daddy.”
“No.” She shook her head adamantly. “It just doesn’t sit right, Junior. It’s out of whack.”
This was the speech she should have made to Reede. Why hadn’t she? Because she was a phony, that’s why. And because the same rules didn’t always apply to similar situations, even when one wanted them to. And because she didn’t have any control over whom she fell in love with. She and Celina had that in common.
“We can never be lovers.”
He smiled and said without rancor, “I’m stubborn. Once this is over, I’ll make certain that you see me in a whole new light. We’ll pretend that we’re meeting for the first time and you’ll fall hard for me.”
If it soothes his ego, let him think so, Alex thought.
She knew it would never be, just as it could never have been with him and Celina.
And in both cases, Reede Lambert was the reason.
Chapter 37
Angus’s secretary escorted Alex into his office at ME headquarters. It was an unpretentious complex, situated in a professional building between a dentist’s office and a two-partner law firm. He stepped around his desk to greet her.
“Thank you for stopping by, Alex.”
“I’m glad you called. I needed to talk to you anyway.”
“Would you like a drink?”
“No, thanks.”
“Seen Junior lately?”
“Yes. We had coffee together this morning.”
Angus was pleased. His lecture had obviously worked. As usual, Junior had just needed a pep talk to get into gear.
“Before we get to my business,” Angus said, “what’s on your mind?”
“Specifically, the night my mother died, Angus.”
His hearty smile faded. “Sit down.” He guided her to a small upholstered couch. “What do you want to know?”
“When I spoke with Junior this morning, he confirmed what I’d already been told—that he proposed to Celina that night. I know that you and Mrs. Minton opposed the idea.”
“That’s right, Alex, we did. I hate to tell you that. I don’t mean to speak badly of your mother because I adored her as Junior’s friend.”
“But you didn’t want her for his wife.”
“No.” He leaned forward and wagged his finger at her. “Don’t think it was snobbishness on my part. It wasn’t. Sarah Jo’s opinion might have been swayed by class and economic distinctions, but not mine. I would have objected to Junior marrying anybody at that time in his life.”
“Then why did you consent to his marriage to Stacey Wallace only a few weeks later?”
No dummy this girl, Angus thought. He assumed an innocent pose. “The situation had changed by then. He’d been emotionally devastated by Celina’s death. Stacey worshiped the ground he walked on. I thought she would be good for him. For a while, she was. I don’t regret blessing that marriage.”
“A prestigious judge’s daughter was also a far more suitable match for the son of Angus Minton.”
His blue eyes darkened. “You’re disappointing me, Alex. What you’re suggesting is downright tacky. Do you think I’d force my son into a loveless marriage?”
“I don’t know. Would you?”
“No!”
“Even if the stakes were awfully high?”
“Listen,” he said, lowering his voice for emphasis, “anything I’ve ever done for my boy has been for his own good.”
“Does that include killing Celina?”
Angus jerked upright. “You’ve got your nerve, young lady.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t afford to be subtle. Angus, Junior says he left the ranch that night, angry and hurt, because Celina turned down his proposal.”
“That’s right.”
“It was left to you to drive her home.”
“Yes. Instead, I offered her one of the cars and gave her the keys. She told me good-bye and left the house. I assumed she drove herself home.”
“Did anyone overhear this conversation?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Not even your wife?”
“She went up to bed right after supper.”
“Don’t you see, Angus? You’ve got no alibi. There’s no witness to what happened after Junior left.”
It pleased him enormously that she seemed worried about it. Her features were anxious and drawn. Lately, he’d found it hard to think of this girl as his enemy. Evidently, she was nursing that same ambiguity.
“I slept with Sarah Jo that night,” he said. “She’ll vouch for that. So will Reede. We were in bed the next morning when he came running in to tell us that he’d found Celina’s body in the stable.”
“Wasn’t my grandmother worried about her? When Celina didn’t come home, didn’t she telephone the ranch?”
“In fact, she did. Celina had already left the house. She had bragged that you were already sleeping through the night, so I guess Mrs. Graham went back to bed, assuming that she was on her way. She didn’t realize until the following morning that Celina hadn’t made it home.”
“What time did Grandma Graham call?”
“I don’t remember. It wasn’t very late because I was still up. I usually go to bed early. I was especially tired after the day we’d spent in the stable with that mare.”
Alex was frowning in concentration. He grinned. “Sound plausible?”
Grudgingly, she returned his smile. “Yes, but it’s riddled with holes.”
“It’s damn sure not enough to ask a grand
jury for a murder indictment. It’s nothing like a blood-soaked Gooney Bud holding a scalpel.”
Alex said nothing.
Angus reached out and covered her hand. “I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings, talking frankly about your mother like that.”
“No, you didn’t,” she replied with a weak smile. “In the last few days I’ve learned that she was far from an angel.”
“I would never have approved of her for Junior. My disapproval didn’t have anything to do with whether she was a saint or a sinner.”
He watched her wet her lips anxiously before asking, “What was your main objection, Angus? Was it because she had me?”
So that’s it, he thought. Alex blames herself for her mother’s fate. Guilt had driven her to get to the bottom of this case. She craved absolution for the sin Merle Graham had laid on her. What a spiteful thing for the old bitch to do to a kid. Still, it served his purpose well.
“My disapproval had nothing to do with you, Alex. It was Reede and Junior.” Humbly, he folded his hands and studied them as he spoke. “Junior needs somebody to goad him every now and then. A strong daddy, a strong friend, a strong woman.” He looked up at her from beneath lowered brows. “You’d be a perfect mate for him.”
“Mate?”
He laughed and spread his arms wide at his sides. “Hell, I might as well come right out with it. I’d like to see a match between you and Junior.”
“What!?”
Angus wasn’t sure whether she was actually stunned, or a damn good actress. Either way, he was glad he’d chosen to prod this thing along himself. Left alone, Junior wasn’t getting the job done.
“We could use a smart lady lawyer in this family. Think what a contribution you’d make to the business, not to mention the empty bedrooms at the ranch. In no time you’d fill ’em up with grandbabies.” He lowered his eyes to her pelvic region. “You’ve got the build for it, and you’d bring new blood to the stock.”
“You can’t be serious, Angus.”
“I’ve never been more serious in my life.” He patted her on the back. “For now, though, let’s just leave it at this: I’d be pleased as punch if something romantic was to spark between you and Junior.”
She moved away from his touch. “Angus, I don’t want to offend you or Junior, but what you’re suggesting is…” She searched for the right word, then laughed and said, “preposterous.”
“Why?”
“You’re asking me to play the role my mother was cast for. You rejected her.”
“You’re suited to the role. She wasn’t.”
“I’m not in love with Junior, and I don’t want the part.” She stood up and moved to the door. “I’m sorry if there’s been any misunderstanding or if I’ve misled anybody into thinking…” He gave her his darkest, most fearsome frown, the one that usually struck terror into the hearts of those who opposed him. She withstood it well. “Good-bye, Angus. I’ll be in touch.”
After she left, Angus poured a drink to calm himself down. His fingers closed around the glass so tightly, it was a wonder it didn’t shatter under the pressure.
Angus Minton rarely had his ideas questioned, and even less frequently, snickered at. They were sure as hell never called preposterous.
Alex left feeling greatly disturbed. In spite of her best intentions, she had offended him. She regretted that. But what disturbed her most was that she’d seen into the man behind the good ole boy demeanor.
Angus Minton liked to have things go his way. When they didn’t move along fast enough, he boosted them. He didn’t take kindly to being crossed.
More than ever, Alex pitied Junior, whose pace was so different from his father’s. No doubt that had always been a source of friction between them. She could also understand why a man as self-sufficient as Reede had left Minton Enterprises. He wouldn’t have functioned well under Angus’s heavy thumb.
She returned to her car and began to drive aimlessly, leaving the city limits and taking to the back roads. The scenery wasn’t much to brag about. Tumbleweeds were snagged on barbed-wire fences that seemed to stretch forever. Oil wells, black outlines against the colorless earth, pumped desultorily.
The drive helped; it gave her privacy in which to think.
Like her mother, she had become entangled with three men, all of whom she liked. She didn’t want to believe one of them was a killer.
Lord, what a muddle. She was gradually peeling away layers of deception. If she kept at it long enough, surely she would eventually get to the truth.
But her time was running out. She had only a few days left before Greg would demand to see some results. If she couldn’t produce something concrete, he would demand that she desist.
As she approached the city limits on her return, she became aware that the vehicle behind her was following too closely.
“Jerk,” she muttered, glancing into her rearview mirror. For another mile the pickup rode her rear end like a shadow. The sun was at an angle to prevent her from seeing the driver. “Come on around if you’re in such a hurry.”
She tapped her brake pedal, enough for the taillights to blink on. He didn’t take the hint. On this rural highway, the gravel shoulder was so narrow it hardly qualified as such. She edged toward it anyway, hoping that the driver of the truck would pass her.
“Thank you very much,” she said when the truck straddled the center yellow stripe and sped up to pass her.
It pulled even with her. She was aware of it from the corner of her eye. She didn’t realize that the driver had a more nefarious purpose than vehicular horseplay in mind until he stayed even with her, a hazard at the speed they were driving.
“You fool!” She whipped her head around to glance out the window. The pickup accelerated suddenly and deliberately swerved, catching her front left bumper with his right rear one. She lost control of the car.
She clutched the steering wheel and stamped on the brakes, but to no avail. Her car skidded off the loose shoulder and plowed into the deep, dry ditch. Alex was held in by her seat belt, but flung forward hard enough to bang her head on the steering wheel. The windshield shattered upon impact, showering the back of her head and hands with glass. It seemed to rain down forever.
She didn’t think she had lost consciousness, but the next thing she knew, there were voices speaking to her. They were soft and melodious, but she couldn’t understand what they were saying.
Groggily, she raised her head. The motion gave her a searing headache. She fought down rising nausea and struggled to focus her eyes.
The men surrounding the car and looking at her with concern were speaking Spanish. One opened her door and said something that was gently inquiring.
“Yes, I’m all right,” she answered automatically. She couldn’t imagine why they were looking at her so strangely until she felt the wet trickle against her cheek. She raised her hand and investigated. Her trembling fingers came away red.
“I’d rather you spent the night here at the hospital. I can arrange for a room,” the doctor said.
“No, I’ll be fine in the motel. After a couple of these, I should sleep till morning.” She shook the brown plastic bottle of pills.
“You don’t have a concussion, but take it easy for a couple of days. No sports, or anything like that.”
She winced at the very mention of physical exertion. “I promise.”
“In a week, we’ll take out the stitches. Good thing that gash was on the top of your head and not on your face.”
“Yes,” Alex replied uncertainly. He’d had to shave a small patch of her scalp, but with artful combing, her hair would cover it.
“Are you up to having a visitor? There’s somebody waiting to see you. Since this is a weeknight, things are kind of slow, so use the room for as long as you like.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
He left the treatment room. Alex tried to sit up, but discovered that she was still too dizzy. The sight of Pat Chastain walking through the door didn’t help her equi
librium. “Well, Mr. Chastain, long time, no see,” she said with sarcasm.
He moved toward the examination table and sheepishly asked, “How are you?”
“I’ve been better, but I’ll be fine.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“No. There was no need for you to come here. How’d you know about it, anyway?”
He pulled forward the only chair in the room and sat down. “Those Mexicans flagged down a passing car. The driver went to the nearest phone and called for an ambulance. The deputy who went out to investigate the accident speaks Spanish, so he heard from them what happened.”
“They saw the truck force me off the road?”
“Yeah. Could you identify it?”
“It was white.” She met the D.A.’s eyes. “And it had the Minton Enterprises logo stenciled on the side.”
He looked troubled and nervous. “That’s what the Mexicans said, too. The deputy couldn’t locate Reede, so he called me.” He nodded toward the bandage on her head. “Is that gonna be okay?”
“In two or three days. I can take the bandage off tomorrow. It required several stitches. And I’ve got these as reminders.” She held up her hands, which were covered with tiny scratches where glass fragments had been tweezed out.
“Alex, did you recognize the driver?”
“No.” The district attorney gave her a hard look, testing her truthfulness. “No,” she repeated. “Believe me, if I had, I’d be after him myself. I didn’t even catch a glimpse. All I could make out was a silhouette against the sun. I think he was wearing some kind of hat.”
“Do you think it was a random incident?”
She came down on both elbows. “Do you?”
He patted the air, urging her to lie back down. “No, I guess it wasn’t.”
“Then don’t tax my strength with stupid questions.”
He ran a hand through his hair and swore. “When I told my old buddy Greg Harper that you’d have carte blanche, I didn’t know that you were going to wreak havoc in my county.”
Her patience with him snapped. “It’s my head that mountains are being slammed against, Mr. Chastain. Why are you whining?”
“Well, dammit, Alex. Judge Wallace, who didn’t like me much in the first place, is hotter than a pistol. I can’t win a single point in his courtroom these days. You’ve all but called three of the county’s leading citizens murderers. Pasty Hickam, a fixture in this town, turns up dead while you’re with him. You were at Nora Gail Burton’s whorehouse when a shooting took place. Goddamn it, why’d you have to open up that hornets’ nest?”