Best Kept Secrets

Black and gold streamers fluttered from the marquee outside

 

Purcell High School. The caricature of a black panther

 

snarled at the passing cars on the highway and temporary

 

letters spelled out pounce permian. On the field inside the

 

stadium, the football team was working out and running

 

plays. The marching band, its instruments flashing in the sun,

 

was rehearsing Friday night's halftime show on a practice

 

field.

 

The activity looked so innocent. For a moment, Alex regretted

 

her mission and what its outcome would most likely

 

mean for the community. She dismissed her guilty feelings

 

quickly, however, when she reminded herself why she was

 

here. A harvest of rejection, as well as her grandmother's

 

harsh accusations, were stored in her mind if she ever, even

 

for a second, forgot what had brought her to this point in her

 

life. She could ill afford the slightest sentimental regrets.

 

Downtown Purcell was almost deserted. Many of the commercial

 

buildings and offices facing the square were closed

 

and barred. Foreclosure signs were too plentiful to count.

 

Graffiti was scrawled across plate-glass windows that had

 

once been filled with enticing merchandise. There was still

 

a hand-lettered sign on the door of a deserted laundry. Someone

 

had scratched out the r, so that the sign now read, 3

 

shits/$1.00. It crudely summed up the economic climate in

 

Purcell County.

 

She parked in front of the county courthouse and fed coins

 

into the meter at the curb. The courthouse had been built of

 

red granite quarried in the hill country and hauled by rail to

 

Purcell ninety years earlier. Italian stonecutters had carved

 

pretentious gargoyles and griffins in every available spot as

 

if the amount of decoration justified the expense of their

 

commission. The results were ostentatious, but gaudiness was

 

one of the edifice's attractions. Atop its dome the national

 

and Texas state flags flapped in the brisk north wind.

 

Having worked in and about the state capitol of Austin for

 

the last year, Alex wasn't intimidated by official buildings.

 

She took the courthouse steps with a determined stride and

 

 

 

pulled open the heavy doors. Inside, the plaster walls showed

 

peeling paint and signs of general disrepair. The aggregate

 

tile floor had faint cracks in it that crisscrossed like the lines

 

in the palm of an ancient hand.

 

The ceiling was high. The drafty corridors smelled of industrial-strength

 

cleaning solution, musty record books, and

 

an overdose of perfume that emanated from the district attorney's

 

secretary. She looked up expectantly as Alex entered

 

the outer office.

 

"Hi, there. You lost, honey? I love your hair. Wish I could

 

wear mine pulled back in a bun like that. You have to have

 

real tiny ears. Wouldn't you know it, I've got jug handles

 

sticking out from the sides of my head. Do you put henna

 

on it to give it those reddish highlights?"

 

"Is this District Attorney Chastain's office?"

 

"Sure is, honey. Whatcha need him for? He's kinda busy

 

today."

 

"I'm from the Travis County D.A.'s office. Mr. Harper

 

called on my behalf, I believe."

 

The wad of chewing gum inside the secretary's cheek got

 

a rest from the pounding it had been taking. "You? We were

 

expecting a man."

 

' 'As you can see . . ." Alex held her arms out at her sides.

 

The secretary looked vexed. "You'd think Mr. Harper

 

would have mentioned that his assistant was a lady, not a

 

man, but shoot," she said, flipping her hand down from a

 

limp wrist, "you know how men are. Well, honey, you're

 

right on time for your appointment. My name's Imogene.

 

Want some coffee? That's a gorgeous outfit, so high-fashion.

 

They're wearing skirts shorter these days, aren't they?"

 

At the risk of sounding rude, Alex asked, "Are the parties

 

here yet?"

 

Just then, masculine laughter erupted from the other side

 

of the closed door. "That answer your question, honey?"

 

Imogene asked Alex. "Somebody prob'ly just told a dirty

 

joke to let off steam. They're just bustin' a gut to know what

 

this hush-hush meeting is all about. What's the big secret?