about--that she couldn't present any evidence to a grand jury
because there isn't any. Gooney Bud was the culprit." The
judge drew himself up. "And no one can question my ruling
that the man was incompetent to stand trial."
"I should say not," Stacey said, rising to his defense.
"You had no choice but to commit Gooney Bud to that
hospital."
"I reviewed his medical records every year, took depositions
from the doctors who treated him. That facility isn't
a snake pit, you know. It's one of the finest hospitals in the
state."
"Daddy, nobody is pointing a finger at you. Good Lord,
all anybody has to do is review your record as judge. For
more than thirty years, your reputation has remained unblemished."
He ran his hand over his thinning hair.' 'I just hate for this
to come up right now. Maybe I should retire early, not wait
till my birthday next summer to step down."
"You'll do no such thing, Your Honor. You'll stay on that
bench until you're ready to retire, and not a day before. No
little upstart fresh out of law school is going to run you off."
For all her starchy show of support, Stacey's eyes revealed
her anxiety. "Did Angus say how the girl. . . what she looks
like? Does she resemble Celina?"
"Some." The judge went to the front door and pulled it
open. On his way out he regrettably mumbled over his shoulder,
"Angus said she was prettier."
Stacey sat woodenly on the arm of the sofa for a long time
after the judge left, staring into space. She completely forgot
about cleaning the noon meal dishes.
"Hello, Judge Wallace. My name is Alex Gaither. How
do you do?"
Introductions were unnecessary. He had known who she
was the minute he had stepped into the office outside his
chambers. Mrs. Lipscomb, his secretary, had nodded toward
a chair against the opposite wall. Turning, he saw a young
woman--twenty-five, if his calculations were correct--sitting
in the straight chair with all the poise and self-confidence
of royalty. It was an air she had inherited from her mother.
He hadn't had much personal interaction with Celina
Gaither, but he knew all about her through Stacey. The girls
had been classmates through eleven years of public schooling.
Even whittling away Stacey's typical adolescent jealousy,
he'd still painted an unflattering picture of a girl who knew
she was beautiful, well liked, and who held all the boys in
the class in the palm of her hand, including the only two who
really mattered, Junior Minton and Reede Lambert.
Too many times to count, Stacey's heart had been broken
because of Celina. For that reason alone the judge had despised
her. And because this young woman was her daughter,
he disliked her on sight.
"How do you do, Miss Gaither."
Judge Wallace shook her proffered hand, but no longer
than was necessary to serve propriety. He found it difficult
to consider this fashionable woman his colleague. He preferred
lawyers who wore white shirts and worsted wool, not
chic, short-skirted suits and fur. Viable members of the bar
should emanate the faint smell of cigar smoke and leather-bound
tomes, not a delicate perfume.
"Has District Attorney Chastain briefed you on why I'm.
here?"
"Yes. This morning. But I heard from Angus last night."
She tilted her head, as though to say that that information
was interesting and worth storing away for future consideration.
He could have kicked himself for volunteering it.
The truth was, he was rather dazzled. Angus Minton had
been right. Alexandra Gaither was better looking than her
mother.
When she moved her head, a shaft of sunlight coming
through the window blinds set her dark hair afire. The collar
of her fur coat brushed her cheek, giving her complexion a
glow as fresh and delectable as ripe apricots. Stacey had a
similar coat, but it turned her complexion the color of cold
ashes.
"Could I have a moment with you in your chambers, Judge
Wallace?" she asked politely.
Needlessly, he consulted his wristwatch. "I'm afraid that's
out of the question. Actually, I just stopped by to pick up
my messages. I've got an appointment out of the office for
the rest of the afternoon." Mrs. Lipscomb started with surprise,
a dead giveaway that he was lying.
Alex pondered the toes of her shoes for a moment. "I hate
to insist, but I must. This is very important, and I'm anxious
to get the investigation underway as soon as possible. Before
I can move forward, I need to verify some facts with you. It
won't take very long." The corners of her mouth turned up
into a smile. "I'm certain your cooperation will be appreciated
by my office in Austin."
Judge Wallace wasn't stupid; neither was Alex. She
couldn't very well pull rank on him, but she could make him
look bad with the Travis County D.A., who hobnobbed with
the powers that be in the capital.
"Very well, please come in." He shrugged off his overcoat,
asked Mrs. Lipscomb to hold his calls, then followed
Alex into his chambers. "Have a seat."
"Thank you."
His stomach was burning in the center of his gut like a
crashed meteor. He'd drunk two swallows of antacid on his
way back to the courthouse, but he could stand another kick.
Alex didn't appear the least bit rattled. She sat down across
the desk from him and gracefully shrugged out of her coat.
"Let's get to it, Miss Gaither," he said imperiously.
"What do you want to know?"
Alex opened her briefcase and withdrew a sheaf of papers.
Inwardly, the judge groaned. ' 'I've read the transcript of Bud
Hicks's hearing, and I have some questions about it."
"Such as?"
"What was your rush?"
"I beg your pardon?"
' 'Bud Hicks was arraigned on a charge of first-degree murder
and held without bail in the Purcell County jail. His
competency hearing was held three days later."