Best Kept Secrets

"Don't you remember talking about this?"

 

"I remember. You told me that you'd left before dessert

 

because apple pie wasn't one of your favorites."

 

"Wrong. Cherry pie. It's still not one of my favorites."

 

"That's not why you left, Reede."

 

"No?" He risked taking his eyes off the road to glance at

 

her.

 

"No. You left because you were afraid Junior was going

 

to propose to Celina that night. You were even more afraid

 

that she was going to accept."

 

He brought the truck to a jarring stop outside her motel

 

room. He got out and came around to her door, almost jerking

 

it off its hinges when he opened it. Grabbing her arm again,

 

he pulled her to the ground and pushed her toward her door.

 

She resisted and turned to confront him.

 

"I'm right so far, aren't I?"

 

"Yeah, I went out with Nora Gail to blow off some steam.''

 

"Did it work?"

 

"No, so I sneaked back to the ranch and found Celina in

 

the mares' barn. How the hell I knew she was going to be

 

there is something you've yet to figure out, Counselor," he

 

sneered.

 

"I look the scalpel out of my pocket. Why I'd taken it

 

from the vet's bag when I could have strangled her with my

 

bare hands is something else you'll have to muddle through.

 

While you're at it, think about where I'd hidden it when I

 

took off all my clothes to screw Nora Gail, who would in all

 

probability have noticed a scalpel.

 

"Anyway, I used the scalpel to stab Celina repeatedly.

 

Then, I just left her body there on the outside chance that

 

Gooney Bud would come wandering by, see her, try to help

 

her, and, in the process, get her blood all over himself."

 

"I think that's exactly how it was done."

 

"You're full of shit, and a grand jury will think so too."

 

He angrily gave her another shove toward her door. In a

 

quavering voice, she said, "There's blood on your hands."

 

He looked down at them. "I've had blood on (hem before.''

 

 

 

"The night you murdered Celina?"

 

His eyes moved back to Alex's. His voice was raspy with

 

menace when he lowered his face close to hers and said,

 

"No, the night she tried to abort you."

 

 

 

Thirty-five

 

 

 

Alex stared at him blankly for several seconds. Then, she

 

attacked him. She went for his face with her nails, his shins

 

with the toes of her shoes. He grunted in pain and surprise

 

as she landed one solid kick against his kneecap.

 

"You liar! You're lying! Lying!" She took a swing at his

 

head. He managed to dodge it.

 

"Stop it." He grabbed hold of her wrists to protect his

 

face. She tried to wrest her hands free, while still kicking

 

out with her feet and knees. "Alex, I'm not lying to you."

 

"You are! You bastard. I know you are. My mother

 

wouldn't do that. She loved me. She did!"

 

She fought like a wildcat. Fury and adrenalin pumped

 

through her system, endowing her with additional strength.

 

She was still no match for him. Holding her wrists together

 

in his left hand, he shook her key out of her handbag and

 

used it to open the door. They stumbled inside together. Reede

 

kicked the door shut.

 

She bucked against him, shouting deprecations, trying to

 

work her hands out of his grip, slinging her head from side

 

to side like someone demented.

 

"Alex, stop this," he ordered fiercely.

 

"I hate you."

 

"I know, but I'm not lying."

 

 

 

"You are!" She twisted and turned and tried to stamp on

 

his feet.

 

He forced her down on the bed, and secured her there with

 

his own body. Keeping an iron grip on her wrists, he placed

 

his other hand over her mouth. She tried to bite it, so he

 

applied more pressure, making any motion of her jaw impossible

 

unless she wanted to break the bones.

 

Her eyes were murderous as she glared at him over the

 

back of his hand. Her breasts rose and fell dramatically with

 

each breath. He hung his head above hers, his hair falling

 

over his brow, gulping in draughts of air until he regained

 

his breath.

 

Finally, lifting his head, he stared deeply into her eyes.

 

"I didn't want you to know," he said in a low, throbbing

 

voice, "but you just kept pushing me. I lost my temper. It's

 

out, I can't take it back, and damn me if it's not the truth."

 

She tried to shake her head no, the denial in her eyes

 

vehement. She arched her back in an effort to throw him off,

 

but she remained pinioned beneath him.

 

"Listen to me, Alex," he said, angrily straining the words

 

through his teeth. "Nobody even knew Celina was pregnant

 

until that night. She'd been back from El Paso for several

 

weeks, but I hadn't gone to see her yet, hadn't even called.

 

My pride was still hurting. In a juvenile way, I was letting

 

her sweat it out."

 

He closed his eyes and shook his head ruefully. "We were

 

playing games with each other, childish, foolish, silly, boy-girl

 

games. Finally, I decided to forgive her." He smiled

 

with bitter self-derision.

 

"I went to see her on a Wednesday night because I knew

 

your grandmother would be at prayer meeting at the Baptist

 

church. After the service she always stayed for choir practice,

 

so I knew that Celina and I would have a couple of hours

 

alone to sort things out.

 

"When I got to her house, I knocked several times, but

 

she didn't come to the door. I knew she was there. The lights

 

were on in the back of the house where her bedroom was. I

 

 

 

thought maybe she was in the shower or was playing the radio

 

so loud she couldn't hear my knocking, so I went around to

 

the back."

 

Alex lay still beneath him. Her eyes were no longer narrowed

 

with animosity, but shiny with unshed tears.

 

"I looked through her bedroom window. The lights were

 

on, but Celina wasn't in there. I tapped on the window. She

 

didn't respond, but I noticed her shadow moving on the bathroom

 

wall. I could see it through the door. It was opened

 

partway. I called her name. I knew she could hear me, but

 

she wouldn't come out. Then--''

 

He squeezed his eyes shut and bared his teeth in a grimace

 

of pain before going on. "I was getting mad, see, because I

 

thought she was just playing coy. She opened the bathroom

 

door wider, and I saw her standing there.

 

"For a few seconds I just looked at her face because it

 

had been so long since I'd seen her. She was staring back at

 

me. She looked puzzled, like she was asking, 'What now?'

 

And that's when I noticed the blood. She was wearing a

 

nightgown, and the lower front of it was streaked with red."

 

Alex's eyes closed. Large, cloudy tears slid from beneath

 

her quivering eyelids and ran onto Reede's fingers.

 

"It scared the hell out of me," he said gruffly. "I got into

 

the house. I don't even remember how. I think I raised the

 

window and slipped through. Anyway, a few seconds later,

 

I was in her bedroom, holding her. We both ended up on the

 

floor and she just sort of crumpled in my arms.

 

"She didn't want to tell me what was wrong. I was screaming

 

at her, shaking her. Finally, she turned her face toward

 

my chest and whispered, 'Baby.' Then I realized what all the

 

blood meant and where it had come from. I scooped her up,

 

ran outside, and put her in my car.''

 

He paused for a moment to reflect. When he picked up the

 

story, the emotion that had racked his voice was gone. He

 

spoke matter-of-factly.

 

"There was this doctor in town who did abortions on the

 

sly. Everybody knew it, but nobody talked about it because

 

 

 

abortions were still illegal in Texas then. I took her to him.

 

I called Junior and told him to bring some money. He met

 

us there. He and I sat in the waiting room while the doctor

 

fixed her up."

 

He gazed down at Alex for a long time before removing

 

his hand. It had left a stark white imprint on the lower half

 

of her face, which in itself was ghostly pale. Her body was

 

now pliant beneath his, and as still as death. With the pads

 

of his thumbs, he wiped the tears off her cheeks.

 

"Damn you to hell if you're lying to me," she whispered.

 

"I'm not. You can ask Junior."

 

"Junior would back you up if you said the sky was green.

 

I'll ask the doctor."

 

"He's dead."

 

"Figures," she remarked, laughing dryly. "What did she

 

use to try to kill me?"

 

"Alex, don't."

 

"Tell me."

 

"No,"

 

"What was it?"

 

"It doesn't matter."

 

"Tell me, damn you!"

 

"Your grandma's knitting needle!"

 

It had started out a soft exchange but ended on a shout.

 

The sudden, resulting silence was deafening.

 

"Oh, God," Alex whimpered, clamping her teeth over her

 

lower lip and turning her face into the pillow. "Oh, God."

 

"Shh, don't cry. Celina didn't hurt you, just herself."

 

"She wanted to hurt me, though. She didn't want me to

 

be born." Her sobs shook her whole body. He absorbed them

 

with his. "Why didn't the doctor just take me while he was

 

fixing her up?"

 

Reede didn't answer.

 

Alex turned her head and stared up at him. She caught

 

handfuls of his shirt in her fists. "Why, Reede?"

 

"He suggested it."

 

"Then, why didn't he?"