Best Kept Secrets

Four

 

 

 

Judge Joseph Wallace was the Prairie Drugstore's best customer

 

for Mylanta. He knew as he pushed away from the

 

lunch table that he'd have to take a swig or two of the stuff

 

before the afternoon was over. His daughter Stacey had prepared

 

the meal for him--as she did every day of the week

 

except Sunday when they went to the country club buffet.

 

Stacey's dumplings, light and puffy as always, had landed

 

like golf balls in his stomach.

 

"Something wrong?" She noticed that her father was absently

 

rubbing his stomach.

 

"No, it's nothing."

 

' 'Chicken and dumplings is usually one of your favorites.''

 

"Lunch was delicious. I've just got a nervous stomach

 

today."

 

' 'Have a peppermint.'' Stacey passed him a cut-glass candy

 

dish, conveniently kept on a dust-free cherrywood coffee

 

table. He took out a wrapped piece of red-andwhite-striped

 

candy and put it in his mouth. "Any particular reason why

 

your stomach is nervous?"

 

Stacey had become her father's caretaker when her mother

 

had died several years earlier. She was single and rapidly

 

approaching middle age, but she had never exhibited any

 

ambition beyond being a homemaker. Because she had no

 

husband or children of her own, she fussed over the judge.

 

She had never been a raving beauty, and age hadn't ameliorated that unfortunate fact. Describing her physical attributes

 

with tactful euphemisms was pointless. She was and

 

always had been plain. Even so, her position in Purcell was

 

well established.

 

Every important ladies' league in town had her name on

 

its roster. She taught a girls' Sunday school class at the First

 

Methodist Church, faithfully visited residents of the Golden

 

Age Home each Saturday morning, and played bridge on

 

Tuesdays and Thursdays. Her activities calendar was always

 

full. She dressed expensively and well, though far too dowdily

 

for her age.

 

Her etiquette was above reproach, her decorum refined,

 

her temperament serene. She had weathered disappointments

 

in a style that was noble and worthy of admiration. Everybody

 

assumed that she was happy and content.

 

They were wrong.

 

Judge Wallace, a sparrow of a man, pulled on his heavy

 

overcoat as he made his way toward the front door. "Angus

 

called me last night."

 

"Oh? What did he want?" Stacey asked as she pulled the

 

collar of her father's coat up around his ears to guard against

 

the wind.

 

"Celina Gaither's daughter turned up yesterday."

 

Stacey's busy hands fell still, and she took a step away

 

from her father. Their eyes met. "Celina Gaither's daughter?"

 

The voice coming from her chalky lips was high and

 

thin.

 

 

 

"Remember the baby? Alexandra, I believe."

 

"Yes, I remember, Alexandra," Stacey repeated vaguely.

 

"She's here in Purcell?"

 

"As of yesterday. All grown up now."

 

"Why didn't you tell me this last night when I came in?"

 

"You were late coming home from the chili supper. I was

 

already in bed. I knew you'd be tired, too, and there was no

 

need to bother you with it then."

 

Stacey turned away and busied herself picking the empty

 

cellophane wrappers out of the candy dish. Her father had

 

 

 

an annoying habit of leaving the empties. "Why should the

 

sudden appearance of Celina's daughter bother me?"

 

"No reason in particular," the judge said, glad he didn't

 

have to meet his daughter's eyes. "On the other hand, it'll

 

probably upset the whole damn town."

 

Stacey came back around. Her fingers were mutilating a

 

piece of clear cellophane. "Why should it?"

 

The judge covered a sour belch with his fist. "She's a

 

prosecutor in the D.A.'s office in Austin."

 

"Celina's daughter?" Stacey exclaimed.

 

"Helluva thing, isn't it? Who would have guessed that she

 

would turn out that well, growing up with only Merle Graham

 

for a parent."

 

"You still haven't said why she's come back to Purcell.

 

A visit?"

 

The judge shook his head. "Business, I'm afraid."

 

"Does it have any bearing on the Minions' gambling license?"

 

He looked away, and nervously fidgeted with a button on

 

his coat. "No, she's, uh, she's gotten the D.A.'s okay to

 

reopen her mother's murder case."

 

Stacey's bony chest seemed to cave in another inch. She

 

groped behind her, searching for a place to land when she

 

collapsed.

 

The judge, pretending not to notice his daughter's distress,

 

said, "She had Pat Chastain arrange a meeting with the Mintons

 

and Reede Lambert. According to Angus, she made this

 

grandstand announcement that before she was finished, she

 

would determine which one of them had killed her mother."

 

"What? Is she mad?"

 

"Not according to Angus. He said she appears to be razor

 

sharp, in complete control of her faculties, and dead serious."

 

Stacey gratefully lowered herself to the arm of the sofa

 

and laid a narrow hand against the base of her neck. "How

 

did Angus react?''

 

"You know Angus. Nothing gets him down. He seemed

 

amused by the whole thing. Said there was nothing to worry