"I keep getting the present mixed up with the past. Hearing
you talk about wishing you could have been my father stifled
my romantic inclinations."
"When I look at you now, I can't relate you to that tiny
baby in the crib. You're an exciting woman. I want to hold
you, love you, and not like a daddy."
"No." She shook her head adamantly. "It just doesn't sit
right, Junior. It's out of whack."
This was the speech she should have made to Reede. Why
hadn't she? Because she was a phony, that's why. And because
the same rules didn't always apply to similar situations,
even when one wanted them to. And because she didn't have
any control over whom she fell in love with. She and Celina
had that in common.
"We can never be lovers."
He smiled and said without rancor, "I'm stubborn. Once
this is over, I'll make certain that you see me in a whole new
light. We'll pretend that we're meeting for the first time and
you'll fall hard for me."
If it soothes his ego, let him think so, Alex thought.
She knew it would never be, just as it could never have
been with him and Celina.
And in both cases, Reede Lambert was the reason.
Thirty-seven
Angus's secretary escorted Alex into his office at ME headquarters.
It was an unpretentious complex, situated in a
professional building between a dentist's office and a two-partner
law firm. He stepped around his desk to greet her.
"Thank you for stopping by, Alex."
"I'm glad you called. I needed to talk to you anyway."
"Would you like a drink?"
"No, thanks."
"Seen Junior lately?"
"Yes. We had coffee together this morning."
Angus was pleased. His lecture had obviously worked. As
usual, Junior had just needed a pep talk to get into gear.
"Before we get to my business," Angus said, "what's on
your mind?"
"Specifically, the night my mother died, Angus."
His hearty smile faded. "Sit down." He guided her to a
small upholstered couch. "What do you want to know?"
"When I spoke with Junior this morning, he confirmed
what I'd already been told--that he proposed to Celina that
night. I know that you and Mrs. Minton opposed the idea."
"That's right, Alex, we did. I hate to tell you that. I don't
mean to speak badly of your mother because I adored her as
Junior's friend."
"But you didn't want her for his wife."
"No." He leaned forward and wagged his finger at her.
"Don't think it was snobbishness on my part. It wasn't. Sarah
Jo's opinion might have been swayed by class and economic
distinctions, but not mine. I would have objected to Junior
marrying anybody at that time in his life."
"Then why did you consent to his marriage to Stacey
Wallace only a few weeks later?"
No dummy this girl, Angus thought. He assumed an innocent
pose. "The situation had changed by then. He'd been
emotionally devastated by Celina's death. Stacey worshiped
the ground he walked on. I thought she would be good for him.
For a while, she was. I don't regret blessing that marriage."
"A prestigious judge's daughter was also a far more suitable
match for the son of Angus Minton."
His blue eyes darkened. "You're disappointing me, Alex.
What you're suggesting is downright tacky. Do you think I'd
force my son into a loveless marriage?"
"I don't know. Would you?"
"No!"
"Even if the stakes were awfully high?"
"Listen," he said, lowering his voice for emphasis, "anything
I've ever done for my boy has been for his own good.''
"Does that include killing Celina?"
Angus jerked upright. "You've got your nerve, young
lady."
"I'm sorry. I can't afford to be subtle. Angus, Junior says
he left the ranch that night, angry and hurt, because Celina
turned down his proposal."
"That's right."
"It was left to you to drive her home."
"Yes. Instead, I offered her one of the cars and gave her
the keys. She told me good-bye and left the house. I assumed
she drove herself home."
"Did anyone overhear this conversation?"
"Not that I know of."
"Not even your wife?"
"She went up to bed right after supper."
"Don't you see, Angus? You've got no alibi. There's no
witness to what happened after Junior left.''
It pleased him enormously that she seemed worried about
it. Her features were anxious and drawn. Lately, he'd found
it hard to think of this girl as his enemy. Evidently, she was
nursing that same ambiguity.
"I slept with Sarah Jo that night," he said. "She'll vouch
for that. So will Reede. We were in bed the next morning
when he came running in to tell us that he'd found Celina's
body in the stable."
"Wasn't my grandmother worried about her? When Celina
didn't come home, didn't she telephone the ranch?"
"In fact, she did. Celina had already left the house. She
had bragged that you were already sleeping through the night,
so I guess Mrs. Graham went back to bed, assuming that she
was on her way. She didn't realize until the following morning
that Celina hadn't made it home."
"What time did Grandma Graham call?"
"I don't remember. It wasn't very late because I was still
up. I usually go to bed early. I was especially tired after the
day we'd spent in the stable with that mare."
Alex was frowning in concentration. He grinned. "Sound
plausible?"
Grudgingly, she returned his smile. "Yes, but it's riddled
with holes."
"It's damn sure not enough to ask a grand jury for a murder
indictment. It's nothing like a blood-soaked Gooney Bud
holding a scalpel."
Alex said nothing.
Angus reached out and covered her hand. "I hope I didn't
hurt your feelings, talking frankly about your mother like
that."
"No, you didn't," she replied with a weak smile. "In the
last few days I've learned that she was far from an angel."
"I would never have approved of her for Junior. My disapproval
didn't have anything to do with whether she was a
saint or sinner."
He watched her wet her lips anxiously before asking,
"What was your main objection, Angus? Was it because she
had me?"
So that's it, he thought. Alex blames herself for her mother's
fate. Guilt had driven her to get to the bottom of this
case. She craved absolution for the sin Merle Graham had
laid on her. What a spiteful thing for the old bitch to do to
a kid. Still, it served his purpose well.
"My disapproval had nothing to do with you, Alex. It was
Reede and Junior." Humbly, he folded his hands and studied
them as he spoke. ' 'Junior needs somebody to goad him every
now and then. A strong daddy, a strong friend, a strong
woman." He looked up at her from beneath lowered brows.
"You'd be a perfect mate for him."
"Mate?"
He laughed and spread his arms wide at his sides. "Hell,
I might as well come right out with it. I'd like to see a match
between you and Junior."
'What!?"
Angus wasn't sure whether she was actually stunned, or a
damn good actress. Either way, he was glad he'd chosen to
prod this thing along himself. Left alone, Junior wasn't getting
the job done.
"We could use a smart lady lawyer in this family. Think
what a contribution you'd make to the business, not to mention
the empty bedrooms at the ranch. In no time you'd fill
'em up with grandbabies." He lowered his eyes to her pelvic region. "You've got the build for it, and you'd bring new
blood to the stock."
"You can't be serious, Angus."
"I've never been more serious in my life." He patted her
on the back. "For now, though, let's just leave it at this: I'd
be pleased as punch if something romantic was to spark between
you and Junior."
She moved away from his touch. "Angus, I don't want to
offend you or Junior, but what you're suggesting is . . ."
She searched for the right word, then laughed and said, "preposterous."
"Why?"
"You're asking me to play the role my mother was cast
for. You rejected her."
"You're suited to the role. She wasn't."
"I'm not in love with Junior, and I don't want the part."
She stood up and moved to the door. "I'm sorry if there's
been any misunderstanding or if I've misled anybody into
thinking . . ." He gave her his darkest, most fearsome frown,
the one that usually struck terror into the hearts of those who
opposed him. She withstood it well. "Good-bye, Angus. I'll
be in touch."
After she left, Angus poured a drink to calm himself down.
His fingers closed around the glass so tightly, it was a wonder
it didn't shatter under the pressure.
Angus Minton rarely had his ideas questioned, and even
less frequently, snickered at. They were sure as hell never
called preposterous.
Alex left feeling greatly disturbed. In spite of her best
intentions, she had offended him. She regretted that. But what
disturbed her most was that she'd seen into the man behind
the good ole boy demeanor.
Angus Minton liked to have things go his way. When they
didn't move along fast enough, he boosted them. He didn't
take kindly to being crossed.
More than ever, Alex pitied Junior, whose pace was so
different from his father's. No doubt that had always been a
source of friction between them. She could also understand
why a man as self-sufficient as Reede had left Minton Enterprises.
He wouldn't have functioned well under Angus's
heavy thumb.
She returned to her car and began to drive aimlessly, leaving
the city limits and taking to the back roads. The scenery
wasn't much to brag about. Tumbleweeds were snagged on
barbed-wire fences that seemed to stretch forever. Oil wells,
black outlines against the colorless earth, pumped desultorily.
The drive helped; it gave her privacy in which to think.
Like her mother, she had become entangled with three men,
all of whom she liked. She didn't want to believe one of them
was a killer.
Lord, what a muddle. She was gradually peeling away