stared at him across the table. His expression was closed and
hostile, but her vulnerability defeated him. He muttered a
string of swear words and dug into his eye sockets with his
thumb and middle finger.
"I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. It's just that you're so
goddamn aggravating when it comes to this." He lowered
his hand. His green eyes appealed to her. "Give it up, Alex.
Relent."
"I can't."
"Won't."
She reached for his hand. "Reede, we're never going to
agree on this, and I don't want to argue with you." Her face
turned soft. "Not after last night."
"Some people would think that what went on in there,"
he said, indicating the living room, "would erase the past."
"Is that why you made it happen, hoping that I'd forgive
and forget?"
He yanked his hand away. "You're dead set on pissing
me off, aren't you?"
"No, I'm not trying to provoke you. Just please understand
why I can't give up when I'm this close."
"I don't understand."
"Then just accept it. Help me."
"How? By pointing a finger at either my mentor or my
best friend?"
"Junior didn't sound like a best friend a while ago."
"That was injured pride and jealousy talking."
"He was jealous the night Celina was killed, too. She had
injured his pride. She turned down his marriage proposal
because she was still in love with you. Could that have driven
him to murder her?"
"Think about it, Alex," he said with annoyance. "If Junior
did blow his top at her, would he have had that scalpel handy
to start slashing? And do you honestly think, no matter how
enraged he was, that Junior could kill anybody?"
"Then, it was Angus," she said softly.
"I don't know." Angrily, Reede slung himself out of his
chair and began to pace. This was a familiar, haunting hypothesis.
"Angus was against Junior marrying Celina."
"Angus is more volatile than Junior," she said, almost to
herself. "I've seen him angry. I imagine that when he's
crossed, he could be capable of killing, and he certainly took
desperate measures to have the case closed before the evidence
could come around to him."
"Where are you going?" Reede jerked to attention when
she left her chair and headed toward the bedroom.
"I've got to talk to him."
"Alex!" He went after her. He rattled the knob of the
bathroom door, but she'd locked it behind herself. "I don't
want you to go over there."
"I've got to." She opened the door, already dressed, and
stuck out her hand. "Can I borrow your Blazer?"
He stared at her hard. "You'll wreck his life. Have you
thought of that?"
"Yes. And every time I feel a pang of regret, I remind
myself of the lonely, loveless childhood I spent while he
was prospering." She closed her eyes and pulled herself
together. "I don't want to destroy Angus. I'm only doing
my job, doing what's right. I actually like him. If circumstances
were different, I could grow very fond of him. But
the circumstances are what they are, and I can't change
them. When a person does something wrong, he's got to
be punished."
"All right." He grabbed her arm and drew her up close.
"What's the punishment for a prosecutor sleeping with a
suspect?"
"You're no longer a suspect."
"You didn't know that last night."
Furious, she wrested her arm free and ran through the
house, grabbing his keys off the end table where she'd seen
him drop them the night before.
Reede let her go and placed a call to his downtown office. Without preamble, he barked, "Get me a car out here on the
double."
"They're all out, Sheriff. All except the Jeep."
"That'll do. Just get it here."
Forty-five
Stacey Wallace Minton shocked her friends by walking into
the living room fully dressed, dry-eyed, and seemingly composed.
They had been speaking in hushed tones in deference
to her suffering. They had believed that she was getting some
much-needed rest in preparation for the ordeal facing her.
Tupperware and Pyrex dishes, filled with salads and casseroles
and desserts, had been delivered to the house by a
steady stream of concerned acquaintances. Without exception,
all had asked, "How's she taking it?"
By all appearances, Stacey was taking her father's death
very well. As always, she was impeccably dressed and
groomed. Except for the grayish circles beneath her eyes, she
could have been on her way to a club meeting.
"Stacey, did we wake you? We put a note on the door,
asking people to knock instead of ringing the bell."
"I've been awake for a while," she told her friends. "What
time did Junior leave?"
"Sometime during the night. Would you like something
to eat? Lordy, there's enough food in there to feed an army.''
"No, thank you, nothing right now."
"Mr. Davis called. He needs to discuss the funeral arrangements
with you, but said that could be at your convenience."
"I'll contact him later this morning."
As her friends watched in stupefaction, she went to the
hall closet and took out her coat. They exchanged concerned
and bewildered glances.
"Stacey, dear, where are you going?"
"Out."
"We'll be glad to run errands for you. That's what we're
here for."
"I appreciate the offer, but this is something I've got to
do myself."
"What are we supposed to tell people when they drop by
to see you?" one asked, anxiously following her to the front
door.
Stacey turned and calmly replied, "Tell them whatever
you like."
Angus didn't seem surprised to see Alex when she walked
into his den unannounced. He was seated on the leather sofa,
massaging the toe that continued to give him pain. "I didn't
hear you come in," he said. "I just got in from the stables
myself. We've got a two-year-old gelding with shin bucks,
which can't be a damn bit more painful than gout."
"Lupe told me you were back here."
"Do you want some breakfast? Coffee?"
"No, thank you, Angus." Hospitable to the bitter end,
Alex thought. "Is this a convenient time-for us to talk?"
He laughed. "As convenient a time as any, I reckon, considering
what we're going to talk about.'' She sat down beside
him on the sofa. He studied her with shrewd blue eyes. ' 'Did
Joe spill his guts before he killed himself?"
"He didn't invite me to his office to take a confession, if
that's what you mean," she answered, "but I know about
your deal with him. How did you talk Junior into going along
with it, Angus?"
"At that point in time," he said, making no effort to deny
her allegations, "the boy didn't care what happened to him.
Celina's death hit him so hard, he was married to Joe's girl
almost before he realized it. Know what? I'm not sure he
could have made it those first few months if Stacey hadn't
taken such good care of him. I never regretted making that
deal with Joe."
"Who were you protecting?"
Changing the subject abruptly, he said, "You look a little
worse for wear this morning. Did Reede ride you that hard
last night?"
Embarrassed, Alex ducked her head. "Junior told you?"
"Yes." He pulled on his boot, wincing as he worked the
sore toe into it. "Can't say that I'm surprised--disappointed,
but not surprised."
She lifted her head. "Why?"
"Like mother, like daughter. Reede always had an edge
over every other man with Celina. Who knows why? That's
just the way it was. Chemistry, I think they call it nowadays.''
He set his foot on the floor and leaned back against the tufted
sofa. "What's between you two?"
"It's more than chemistry."
"So, you love him?"
"Yes."
He drew a worried expression. "I'll caution you like a
daddy would, Alex. Reede's not an easy man to love. He
has a tough time showing affection, and an even tougher time
of accepting it. As old as he is, he's still bitter about his
mama up and leaving him when he was a baby."
"Is that why he found it impossible to forgive Celina for
getting involved with Al Gaither and having me?"
"I think so. He tried not to let on like it hurt him. Walked
around here with a chip on his shoulder as big as Texas. He
hid his feelings behind that I-don't-give-a-damn veneer, but
he was crushed just the same. I could tell. He didn't hold it
against you, you understand, but he could never quite forgive
your mother for cheating on him."
"What about Junior?"
"Junior couldn't forgive her for loving Reede more than
she loved him."
"But neither one of them killed her." She met him eye to
eye. "It was you, wasn't it?"
He stood up and moved to the window. He gazed out on
all that he had built from nothing and was liable to lose. The
ponderous silence in the room lasted for several minutes.
Finally, he said, "No, I didn't." Then, turning slowly, he
added, "But I wanted to."
"Why?"
"Your mother played games, Alex. She liked to. When I
first met her, she was still a little tomboyish. Things might
have gone fine if she'd stayed like that. But she grew older
and realized that she had a power over both of those boys--
sexual power. She began to use that in her games."
Alex's heart began to ache. She scarcely breathed. It was
like watching a horror movie and waiting for the monster to
finally rear his head. She wanted to see the whole picture,
but yet, she didn't. It would probably be ugly.
"I could see it happening," Angus was saying, "but there
wasn't much I could do about it. She played them against
each other."
His words echoed what Nora Gail had told her. The temptation
was just too strong.
"The older they got, the worse it got," Angus continued.
"The solid friendship between the boys was like a shiny
apple. Celina ate away at the core of it like a worm. I didn't
like her very much." He returned to the sofa and sat down.
"But I desired her."
When Alex was sure her ears hadn't deceived her, she
couldn't hold back her gasp. "What?"
Angus smiled crookedly. "Remember, this was twenty-five
years and thirty pounds ago. I didn't have this," he said,
rubbing his protruding belly, "and I had more hair. If I do
say so, I was still considered a lady-killer."
"It's not that I doubt your appeal, Angus, it's just that I
had no idea--"
"Neither did anyone else. It was my little secret. Even she
didn't know . . . until the night she died."
Alex groaned his name. The monster of truth wasn't only
ugly, it was hideous.
"Junior stormed out on his way to drown his sorrows in
booze. Celina came into this room. She sat right there, where
you're sitting now, and cried. She told me she didn't know
what to do. She loved Reede in a way she'd never love another
man. She loved Junior, but not enough to marry him. She
didn't know how she was going to raise you alone. Every
time she looked at you, she was reminded of the mistake that
had changed her future forever.
"On and on she went, expecting me to sympathize, when
all I could see was what a selfish little bitch she was. She'd
brought all her hardships on herself. She didn't give a damn
how she hurt other people or played with their lives. She only
cared about how things affected her."
He shook his head with self-derision. "That didn't stop
me from wanting her. I wanted her more than ever. I think
I justified it to myself because I figured she deserved no better
than lust from a horny old man like me." He took a deep
breath. "Anyway, I made my pitch."
"You told her you . . . desired her?"
"I didn't come right out with it, no. I offered to set her
up in a house out of town, someplace close. I told her I'd
pay for everything. She wouldn't have to lift a finger, just
be accommodating when I could come see her. I expected
her to bring you along, of course, and Mrs. Graham, too,
though I doubt your grandma would ever have agreed to it.
In short," he concluded, "I asked her to be my mistress."
"What did she say?"
"Not a goddamn thing. She just looked at me for several
seconds, and then she burst out laughing." His eyes chilled
Alex to the bone when he added raspily, "And you know
how I hate having my ideas laughed at.''
"You filthy old son of a bitch."
Simultaneously, they turned toward the intrusive voice.
Junior, his face contorted with outrage, was standing in the
open doorway. He pointed a shaking, accusatory finger at his
father. "You didn't want me to marry her because you wanted
her for yourself! You killed her because she turned down