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