Best Kept Secrets

your despicable proposal! You goddamn bastard, you killed

 

her for that!"

 

 

 

The road seemed bumpier than usual. Or maybe she was

 

just hitting all the ruts because her eyes were blurred with

 

tears. Alex fought to keep the Blazer on the road to Reede's

 

house.

 

When Junior had launched himself at Angus and begun to

 

beat him with his fists, she had run from the room. She

 

couldn't stand to watch. Her investigation had turned son

 

against father, friend against friend, and she simply couldn't

 

stand any more. She had fled.

 

They'd all been right. They'd tried to warn her, but she

 

had refused to listen. Compelled by guilt, headstrong and

 

fearless, armed to the teeth with an unshakable sense of right

 

and wrong, cheered on by the recklessness of immaturity,

 

she had excavated in forbidden territory and disturbed its

 

sanctity. She had aroused the ire of bad spirits long laid to

 

rest. Against sound counsel, she had kept digging. Now those

 

spirits were protesting, making themselves manifest.

 

She had been brainwashed to believe that Celina was a

 

fragile heroine, tragically struck down in the full bloom of

 

womanhood, a heartbroken young widow with a newborn

 

infant in her arms, looking out on the cruel world with dismay.

 

Instead, she had been manipulative, selfish, and even cruel

 

to the people who had loved her.

 

Merle had made her believe that she had been responsible

 

for her mother's death. With every gesture, word, and deed,

 

whether overt or implied, she had made Alex feel inadequate

 

and at fault.

 

Well, Merle was wrong. Celina was responsible for her

 

slaying. By an act of will, Alex unburdened herself of all

 

guilt and remorse. She was free! It no longer really mattered

 

to her whose hand had wielded that scalpel. It hadn't been

 

because of her.

 

Her first thought was that she must share this sense of

 

freedom with Reede. She parked the Blazer in front of his

 

 

 

house, got out, and ran across the porch. At the door, she

 

hesitated and knocked softly. After several seconds, she

 

pulled it open and stepped inside. "Reede?" The house was

 

gloomy and empty.

 

Moving toward the bedroom, she called his name again,

 

but it was obvious that he wasn't there. As she turned, she

 

noticed her handbag, lying forgotten on the nightstand. She

 

checked the adjoining bathroom for items she might have left

 

behind, gathered them up, and dropped them into her handbag.

 

As she snapped it closed, she thought she heard the familiar

 

squeak of the screened front door. She paused and listened.

 

"Reede?" The sound didn't come again.

 

Lost in sweet reverie of the night before, she touched

 

Reede's things on the nightstand--a pair of sunglasses, a

 

comb that was rarely used, an extra brass belt buckle with

 

the state seal of Texas on it. Her heart swelling with love,

 

she turned to go, but was brought up short.

 

The woman standing in the doorway of the bedroom had

 

a knife in her hand.

 

 

 

Forty-six

 

 

 

"What the hell is going on here?"

 

Reede grabbed Junior's collar and hauled him off Angus,

 

who was sprawled on the floor. Blood was dribbling down

 

his chin from a cut on his lip. Oddly enough, the old man

 

was laughing.

 

"Where'd you learn to fight like that, boy, and why haven't

 

you done it more often?" He sat up and extended his hand

 

 

 

fllo Reede. "Help me up." Reede, after giving Junior a warming

 

glance, let go of his collar and assisted Angus to his feet.

 

"One of you want to tell me what the devil that was all

 

about?" Reede demanded.

 

f. When the Jeep had arrived, he had driven straight to the

 

4 ranch house, where an anxious Lupe had greeted him at the

 

door with the news that Mr. Minton and Junior were fighting.

 

Reede had run into the den and found the two men locked

 

in combat, rolling on the floor. Junior had been throwing

 

earnest, but largely ineffective, punches at his father's head.

 

' 'He wanted Celina for himself,'' Junior declared, his chest

 

heaving with exertion and fury. "I overheard him telling

 

Alex. He wanted to set Celina up as his mistress. When she

 

said no, he killed her."

 

Angus was calmly dabbing at the blood on his chin with

 

a handkerchief. "Do you really believe that, son? Do you

 

think I would sacrifice everything--your mother, you, this

 

place--for that little chippy?"

 

"I heard you tell Alex that you wanted her."

 

"I did, from the belt down, but I didn't love her. I didn't

 

like the way she came between you and Reede. I sure as hell

 

wouldn't gamble away everything else in my life by killing

 

her. I might have felt like it when she laughed at my offer,

 

but I didn't." His eyes roved over both the younger men.

 

"My pride was spared when one of you did it for me."

 

The three men exchanged uneasy glances. The past twenty-five

 

years had dwindled down to this crucial moment. Until

 

now, none of them had had the courage to pose the question.

 

The truth would have been too painful to bear, so they had

 

let the identity of the murderer remain a mystery.

 

Their silence had been tacitly agreed upon. It had protected

 

them from knowing who had ended Celina's life. None had

 

wanted to know.

 

"I did not kill that girl," Angus said. "As I told Alex, I

 

gave her the keys to one of the cars and told her to drive

 

herself home. The last time I saw her, she was leaving by

 

the front door."

 

 

 

"I was upset because she turned me down," Junior said.

 

"I made the rounds of the beer joints and got shit-faced. I

 

don't remember where I was or who I was with. But I think

 

I would remember slashing Celina to ribbons."

 

' 'When dessert was passed around I left,'' Reede told them.

 

"I spent the night humping Nora Gail. I got to the stable

 

about six that morning. That's when I found her."

 

Angus shook his head in bafflement. "Then everything

 

we've told Alex is true."

 

"Alex?" Reede exclaimed. "Didn't you say she was just

 

here?"

 

"Dad was talking to her when I came in."

 

"Where is she now?"

 

"She was sitting right there," Angus said, pointing at

 

the empty spot on the sofa. "I didn't see anything after

 

Junior came sailing toward me and knocked me down. Felt

 

like a goddamn bull falling on me," he said, jovially socking

 

his son beneath the chin. Junior grinned with boyish

 

pleasure.

 

"Would you two cut it out and tell me where Alex went?"

 

"Calm down, Reede. She's gotta be around here somewhere."

 

"I didn't see her when I came in," he argued stubbornly

 

as he rushed into the hall.

 

"It couldn't have been but a couple of minutes in between,"

 

Junior said. "Why are you so anxious about--"

 

"Don't you get it?" Reede asked over his shoulder. "If

 

none of us killed Celina, whoever did is still out there, and

 

he's just as pissed off at Alex as we've been."

 

"Jesus, I didn't think--"

 

"You're right, Reede."

 

"Come on."

 

The three men rushed through the front door. As they were

 

clambering down the steps, Stacey Wallace wheeled into the

 

drive and stepped out of her car.

 

"Junior, Angus, Reede, I'm glad I caught you. It's about

 

Alex."

 

 

 

Reede drove the Jeep like a bat out of hell. At the crossroads

 

of the highway and the Mintons' private road, he caught up

 

: with the deputies who had delivered him the Jeep and flagged

 

down the patrol car.

 

"Have you seen my Blazer?" he shouted to them. "Alex

 

Gaither was driving it."

 

"Yeah, Reede, we did. She was headed back toward your

 

place."

 

"Much obliged." To his passengers he shouted, "Hang

 

on," and executed a hairpin turn.

 

"What's going on?" Stacey asked. The Jeep's top was

 

off, so she was clinging to the roll bar for dear life. In her

 

staid world, nothing this death-defying had ever happened.

 

Trying to detain the Mintons and Reede had been impossible.

 

They had almost mowed her down in their haste to

 

scramble into the Jeep. She'd been summarily told that if she

 

must speak with them right then, she had to go along. She

 

had climbed into the backseat with Junior, while Angus sat

 

in the front seat, next to Reede.

 

"Alex could be in danger," Junior shouted into Stacey's

 

ear to make himself heard. The cold north wind sucked the

 

words out of his mouth.

 

"Danger?"

 

"It's a long story."

 

"I went to her motel," Stacey shouted. "The desk clerk

 

told me she might be at the ranch."

 

"What's so important?" Reede asked over his shoulder.

 

"I didn't get everything off my chest last night. She didn't

 

hold the pistol or pull the trigger, but she caused Daddy's

 

suicide."

 

Junior placed his arm around her, drew her close, and

 

kissed her temple. "Stacey, let it drop. Alex isn't the reason

 

Joe killed himself."

 

"It's not just that," Stacey said, distraught. "Her investigation

 

has raised questions about. . . well, we got married

 

so soon after Celina was killed. People thought. . . you know

 

 

 

how suspicious and narrow-minded they can be. They're talking

 

about it again." She gazed up at him imploringly. "Junior,

 

why did you marry me?''

 

He placed a finger beneath her chin. "Because you're a

 

beautiful, dynamic woman, the best damn thing that ever

 

happened to me, Stacey," he said, meaning it. He couldn't

 

love her, but he appreciated her kindness and goodness, and

 

her unflagging love for him.

 

"Then, you do love me a little?"

 

He smiled down at her and, for her sake, said, "Hell, girl,

 

I love you a lot."

 

Her eyes glistened with tears. The radiance with which her

 

face shone made her almost pretty. "Thank you, Junior."

 

Angus suddenly leaned forward and pointed toward the

 

horizon. "My God, that looks like--"

 

"Smoke," Reede grimly supplied, and floored the accelerator.