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.