Best Kept Secrets

Thirty-nine

 

 

 

"Come in." Junior was sitting up in bed watching TV and

 

smoking a joint when Reede entered his room. "Hi. What

 

brings you around?" He offered Reede the marijuana.

 

"No, thanks." Reede dropped into the easy chair and

 

propped his boots on the matching ottoman.

 

The room had undergone very few changes since the first

 

time Reede had been invited into it, although Junior had

 

updated the furniture when he elected to move home after

 

his last divorce. It was a spacious room, designed with comfort

 

in mind.

 

"Lord, I'm tired," Reede said, running his fingers through

 

his hair.

 

Junior pinched out the smoldering cigarette and put it away.

 

"You look it."

 

' "Thanks.'' He grinned ruefully. "How come I always look

 

like forty miles of bad road and you're always perfectly

 

groomed?"

 

"Genes. Look at Mother. I've never seen her mussed."

 

"I guess so. God knows my father didn't cotton to good

 

grooming."

 

"Don't expect any pity from me. You know your rugged

 

 

 

good looks are irresistible to the ladies. We're different types,

 

that's all."

 

"Together, we'd be great."

 

"We were."

 

"Huh?"

 

"Remember the night we shared one of the Gail sisters'

 

behind the National Guard armory. Which one was it?"

 

Reede chuckled. "Damned if I remember. I'm too tired to

 

think, much less remember."

 

"You've been putting in a lot of overtime, haven't

 

you?"

 

"It's taken that," he paused strategically, "just to keep

 

an eye on Alex and keep her from getting hurt."

 

Reede saw the interest spark in Junior's eyes. "She's a

 

handful, all right."

 

"I'm not joking. She almost got killed this afternoon."

 

"What?" Junior swung his feet over the side of the bed

 

to the floor.' 'What happened? Is she hurt?'' Reede told Junior

 

about the incident on the highway. "I'd better call her," he

 

said as soon as Reede finished.

 

"Don't. When I left her, she was asleep. They gave her

 

a painkiller at the hospital and it was already working."

 

He could feel the weight of Junior's inquisitive stare, but

 

didn't acknowledge it. He wasn't going to explain why he'd

 

felt it necessary to tuck Alex in. It had taken all his willpower

 

to walk out of that room and deny himself the luxury of lying

 

beside her all night.

 

"Some Mexicans witnessed the whole thing. They said

 

it was an ME truck, and it deliberately ran her off the

 

road."

 

Junior looked confused. "My first guess would be that

 

preacher."

 

"Where would he get one of your company trucks?"

 

"A devoted member of his flock could be an employee."

 

"I've got a man checking out that possibility, although I

 

doubt anything'll turn up."

 

The two friends were silent for a moment. Finally, Reede

 

 

 

said casually, "I understand you had breakfast with Alex this

 

morning."

 

"She called and asked me to meet her."

 

"Why?"

 

"She said you told her about Celina's attempted abortion.''

 

Reede averted his head. "Yeah."

 

"I don't like to second-guess you, friend, but--"

 

"Then, don't." Reede rolled out of the chair and came to

 

his feet.

 

"Okay, okay. I just fail to see why it was necessary."

 

Reede didn't intend to talk about last night at all. "What

 

else did you discuss over breakfast?"

 

"The night Celina died. Alex wanted to know if I'd proposed."

 

Junior recounted that morning's conversation with

 

Alex.

 

"Did she believe you when you said you went out and got

 

drunk alone?"

 

"I guess so. She seemed to. Everybody else believes me."

 

The look they exchanged lasted a few seconds too long to be

 

comfortable for either. "Yeah, right.'' Reede gazed out the window.

 

*' Alex said Stacey showed up and was none too friendly.''

 

Junior fidgeted.' 'I've, uh, I've been seeing Stacey lately.''

 

Reede swiveled around, surprised. "Seeing or screwing?

 

Or are they automatically synonymous to you?"

 

"Guilty to both charges."

 

Reede cursed. "Why are you fanning that fire?"

 

"Convenience."

 

"Nora Gail's is convenient."

 

"But not free--at least, to no one but you."

 

Reede's lip curled. "You sorry son of a bitch."

 

"Look, it's not hurting anybody. Stacey needs the attention.

 

She wants it."

 

"Because she loves you, you jerk."

 

"Aww." Junior dismissed that notion with a wave of his

 

hand. "One thing I do know. She's all bent out of shape

 

about Alex. Stacey's afraid she'll ruin all of us, but especially,

 

her old man."

 

 

 

"She might do it. She's determined to find a culprit and

 

send him to prison."

 

Junior slouched against the headboard again. "Does that

 

really worry you?"

 

"Yes," Reede said. "I've got a lot to lose if ME doesn't

 

get that racing license. So do you."

 

"What are you getting at, that I ran Alex off the road? Is

 

this an interrogation, Sheriff?" he asked in a tone that didn't

 

flatter the office Reede held.

 

"Well?"

 

Junior's handsome face flushed with anger. "Good

 

God, are you crazy?" He left the bed and came to stand

 

eye to eye with Reede. "I wouldn't harm a hair on her

 

head."

 

"Were you in her room this morning?"

 

"Yes. So?"

 

"What for?" Reede shouted.

 

"What do you think?" Junior shouted back.

 

Reede's head gave a little snap backward. It was a reflexive

 

action, one he couldn't prevent from happening or hide once

 

it had.

 

Several moments of silence elapsed before Junior said,

 

"She said no."

 

"I didn't ask."

 

"But you wanted to," Junior said intuitively. "Does Alex

 

and her reason for being here have anything to do with you

 

turning down Dad's offer to come back to ME?'' He returned

 

to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, giving Reede a

 

wounded and inquisitive look. "Weren't you even going to

 

mention it, Reede?"

 

"No."

 

"Why?"

 

"There was no point. When I left the company, it was for

 

good. I don't want to become a part of it again."

 

"Of us, you mean."

 

Reede shrugged. Junior thoughtfully gazed at his friend.

 

"Because of Celina?"

 

 

 

"Celina?" Reede whispered with a soft, sad laugh. "Celina's

 

dead and buried."

 

"Is she?"

 

The friends stared at each other frankly, with all pretense

 

stripped away. After a moment, Reede answered, "Yes."

 

"It hasn't been the same between us since she died, has

 

it?"

 

"It couldn't be."

 

"I guess not," Junior said morosely. "I regret that."

 

"So do I."

 

"What about Alex?"

 

"What about her?"

 

"Is she the reason you won't come back in with us?"

 

"Hell, no. You know the reason, Junior--or at least, you

 

should. You've heard me talk about it often enough."

 

"That crap about independence? That's no reason. You

 

work your way around Angus a lot better than I do."

 

Junior sucked in a quick breath, suddenly realizing that

 

he'd hit pay dirt. "That's it, isn't it? You're steering clear

 

of ME for my sake."

 

"You're wrong." Reede's denial came a little too fast.

 

"The hell I am," Junior growled. "You see yourself as a

 

threat to me, the heir apparent. Well, thanks a lot, but don't

 

do me any favors!"

 

As suddenly as Junior's anger had erupted, it evaporated.

 

"Who the fuck am I kidding?" He gave a scoffing laugh.

 

"Sure as hell not myself." He raised his head and looked at

 

Reede imploringly. "I'd love to have you back. We need

 

you, especially after that racetrack is built."

 

"Now who's talking crap?"

 

"You know I'm right. Dad makes things happen, but he

 

operates like a robber baron. Business doesn't work like that

 

nowadays. I've got charm, but charm is as wasted on a breeding

 

ranch as snow skis in Jamaica. Unless you're a gigolo--

 

a career I've often thought of pursuing--you can't bank

 

charm."

 

"It comes in handy."

 

"Dad's smart enough to see that you could hold us to