Best Kept Secrets (23 page)

"Her mother certainly didn't."

Sarah Jo's cool, catty remark momentarily stifled the conversation.

It served to counteract the potency of Alex's glass of wine. Her giddiness fizzled and went flat as day-old soda.

She nodded toward Sarah Jo and said, "Hello, Mrs. Minton.

( You look lovely tonight."

Even though her dress was inappropriate, she did look lovely in it. Not vibrant, Alex thought. Sarah Jo could never look vivacious and animated. Her beauty had an ethereal quality, as though her visitation on earth was temporary and tenuous. She gave Alex one of her vague, secretive smiles and murmured a thank-you as she took a sip of wine.

"Heard you were the one who discovered Pasty's body."

"Dad, this is a party," Junior said. "Alex won't want to talk about something nasty like that."

"No, it's all right, Junior. I would have brought it up myself, sooner or later."

"I don't reckon it was coincidence that you met him at that honky-tonk and climbed into his pickup with him," Angus said, rolling the cigar from one corner of his lips to the other.

"No." She paraphrased for them her telephone conversations with Pasty.

"That cowboy was a liar, a fornicator, and, worse than all his other vices put together, he cheated at poker," Angus said with some vehemence. "In the last few years he'd gone plumb goofy and irresponsible. That's why I had to let him go. I figure you've got better sense than to put any stock in what he told you."

In the middle of his monologue, Angus signaled the waiter to bring another round of drinks. "Oh, sure, Pasty might've seen who went into that stable with Celina, but the one he saw was Gooney Bud."

Having said his piece, and giving Alex no opportunity to dispute it, he launched into a glowing review of a jockey from Ruidoso that he wanted to ride for them. Since the Mintons were her hosts, Alex graciously let the topic of Pasty Hickam die for the moment.

When they'd finished their drinks, Angus and Junior offered to go through the barbecue buffet for the ladies. Alex would just as soon have gone through the line herself. She found it difficult to make small talk with Sarah Jo, but after the men withdrew, she valiantly made an attempt.

"Have you been members of the club for a long time?"

"Angus was one of the charter members," Sarah Jo supplied distractedly. She kept her eyes on the couples doing the two-step in an eternal circle around the dance floor.

"He seems to have a finger in just about every pie in town," Alex remarked.

"Hmm, he likes to know everything that's going on."

"And be a part of it."

"Yes. He makes things happen and spreads himself thin."

She gave a delicate sigh. "Angus has this need to be well liked, you see. He's always politicking, as though it matters what other people think."

Alex folded her hands beneath her chin and propped her elbows on the table. "You don't believe it matters?"

"No." Her entrancement with the dancers ended. For the first time that evening, she looked directly at Alex. "Don't read too much into the way Junior treats you."

"Oh?"

"He flirts with every woman he meets."

Alex slowly lowered her hands to her lap. Anger roiled inside, but she managed to keep her voice low and level. "I resent your implication, Mrs. Minton."

Sarah Jo lifted one shoulder indifferently. "Both of my men are charming and they know it. Most women don't realize that their flirting is meaningless."

"I'm sure that's true of Angus, but I don't know about Junior. Three ex-wives might disagree with you about his flirting."

"They were all wrong for him."

"What about my mother? Would she have been wrong for him?"

Sarah Jo fixed her empty stare on Alex again. "Absolutely wrong. You're a lot like her, you know."

"Am I?"

"You enjoy causing dissonance. Your mother was never content to leave bothersome things alone. The only difference is that you're even better at making trouble and creating ill will than she was. You're direct to the point of being tactless, a trait I've always attributed to bad breeding." She lifted her eyes to someone who had moved up behind Alex.

"Good evening, Sarah Jo."

"Judge Wallace." A sweet smile broke across Sarah Jo's face. One would never guess she had had her stinger out seconds earlier. "Hello, Stacey."

Alex, her face hot with indignation over Sarah Jo's unwarranted criticism, turned around. Judge Joe Wallace was staring down at her with disapproval, as though her being there was a breach of the club's standards.

"Miss Gaither."

"Hello, Judge Wallace." The woman standing beside him looked at Alex with a censure that matched his, though for what reason, Alex couldn't guess. Obviously, Junior was the only friendly face she was going to find in this crowd.

The judge gave the woman's arm a nudge and they moved toward another table. "Is that his wife?" Alex asked, following their progress.

"Good heavens, no," Sarah Jo said. "His daughter. Poor Stacey. Eternally dowdy."

Stacey Wallace was still staring at Alex with such malice that she was captivated by it. She didn't break her stare until Junior's knee bumped hers when he resumed his seat and set two plates of food on the table.

"I hope you like ribs and beans." His gaze followed the direction of hers. "Hey, Stacey." He winked at her and raised his hand in a friendly wave.

The woman's puckered mouth relaxed into a faltering smile. Blushing, she raised her hand to her neckline like a flustered girl and called back shyly, "Hi, Junior."

"Well?"

Though she was still curious about the judge and his chameleon daughter, Junior's one-word inquiry brought Alex's head around. "Sorry?"

"Do you like ribs and beans?"

"Watch me," she laughed, spreading the napkin over her lap.

She did unladylike damage to her plate of food, but her healthy appetite earned her a compliment from Angus. "Sarah Jo eats like a bird. Don't you like the ribs, honey?" he asked, looking into her plate, which had barely been disturbed.

"They're a little dry."

"Want me to order you something else?"

"No, thank you."

After they'd eaten, Angus took a fresh cigar from his pocket and lit it. Fanning out the match, he said, "Why don't you two dance?"

"Are you game?" Junior asked.

"Sure." Alex pushed back her chair and stood up. "But this kind of dancing isn't my forte, so nothing too fancy, please."

Junior drew her into his arms and, disobeying her request, executed a series of intricate turns and dips. "Very nice,"

he said, smiling down at her when they lapsed into a more sedate two-step. Using the arm he had placed around her waist, he pulled her tighter against him. "Very, very nice."

Alex let him hold her close because it felt good to have two strong arms around her. Her partner was handsome and charming and knew how to make a woman feel beautiful.

She was a victim of his charm, but knowing it was her safety net.

She could never actually fall for a glib charmer like Junior, but small doses of attention from one was fun temporarily, especially since every time she was around Reede, her confidence and ego took a beating.

"Is Reede a club member?" she asked casually.

"Are you kiddin'?"

"He hasn't been invited to join?"

"Oh, sure, as soon as he won sheriff the first time. It's just that he feels more at home in another crowd. He doesn't give a fuck--excuse me--for society stuff." He stroked her back. "You seem more relaxed than when I picked you up.

Having fun?"

"Yes, but you got me here under false pretenses," she accused. "You're a long way from becoming drunk and talkative."

His smile was unrepentant. "Ask me anything."

"Okay. Who's the man over there, the one with the white hair?" Junior identified him by name. Her instincts proved correct. His name had been among those at the bottom of her

letter. "Introduce us when the band takes its next break."

"He's married."

She shot him a look. "My interest in him isn't romantic."

"Ah, good, good."

He did as she asked. The banker she had picked out of the crowd seemed disconcerted when Junior introduced her. As she shook hands with him, she said, "I received your letter, Mr. Longstreet."

Her straightforwardness surprised him, but he recovered admirably. "I see that you're taking it to heart." He slid a knowing glance toward Junior.

"Don't let my being here tonight with Junior fool you. I can appreciate what he, his father, and Mr. Lambert mean to Purcell and its economy, but that does not mean I'll suspend my investigation. It'll take more than a letter to scare me off."

Clearly irritated, Junior spoke to her out of the side of his mouth as he escorted her back onto the dance floor a few minutes later. "You could have warned me."

"About what?"

"That you are armed and dangerous. Longstreet's a big wheel who shouldn't be put on the defensive. What's all this about a letter, anyway?"

She explained, reciting as many of the names as she could recall. "I hoped to meet some of them here tonight."

He pulled a deep frown, regarding her with asperity. Eventually, however, he shrugged and fashioned a beguiling smile.

"And here I thought I'd swept you off your feet." Sighing in resignation, he added, "Well, I'd just as well help you out. Want to meet the rest of your adversaries?"

Trying to make it appear as casual as possible, Junior moved her through the crowd, introducing her to those there who had signed their names to that subtly threatening letter.

A half hour later they moved away from a couple who owned a chain of convenience stores throughout West Texas.

They had invested heavily in Purcell Downs and were the most demonstratively hostile. By that time, though, word had gotten around who Junior's date was, so they'd been laying for her.

"There, that's everybody," he told her.

' 'Thank God,'' Alex whispered. "Are the knives still sticking out of my back?"

"You're not going to let that old biddy's rapier tongue get to you, are you? Look, she's a dried up old shrew who hales any woman who doesn't have a mustache as thick as hers."

Alex smiled in spite of herself. "She all but said, 'Be on the next stage leaving town ... or else.' "

He squeezed her arm. "Come on, let's dance again. It will take your mind off your troubles."

"I need to repair the damages," she said, slipping out of his grasp. "Excuse me."

"Okay. The little girls' room is thataway." He pointed down a narrow hallway.

There was no one in the powder room when she went in, but when she came out of the cubicle, the judge's daughter was standing in front of the dressing table, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She turned and faced Alex.

Alex smiled. "Hi."

"Hello."

Alex moved to the sink and washed her hands. "We haven't been formally introduced. I'm Alex Gaither." She plucked two coarse paper towels from the dispenser.

"Yes, I know."

Alex dropped the used towels into the wastepaper basket.

"You're Judge Wallace's daughter." She attempted to break the ice in an atmosphere that was glacial and getting colder by the second. The woman had dropped all vestiges of the shy, insecure maiden she had assumed when Junior had spoken to her. Her face was stony and uncompromisingly antagonistic.

"Stacey, wasn't it?"

"Yes. Stacey. But the last name isn't Wallace. It's Min-ton."

"Minton?"

"That's right. I am Junior's wife. His first wife."

Twenty

"I can see that's news to you," Stacey said, laughing humorlessly at Alex's dumbfounded expression.

' 'Yes,'' she replied in a hollow tone.' 'No one's mentioned that."

Stacey's composure, always intact, deserted her. Flattening a hand on her meager bosom, she cried out, "Do you have any idea the damage you're doing?"

"To whom?"

"To me," she shouted, pounding her chest. Immediately she dropped her hand and rolled her lips inward, as though mortified by her outburst. She closed her eyes momentarily.

When she opened them, they were filled with animosity, but she appeared to have regained control of herself.' 'For twenty-five years I've had to live down the generally held belief that Junior Minton married me on the rebound from your mother.''

Alex didn't state the obvious, but guiltily lowered her eyes.

"I see that you hold to that belief, too."

"I'm sorry, Miss . . . Stacey. May I call you Stacey?"

"Of course," she replied stiffly.

"I'm sorry that my investigation has distressed you."

"How could it not? You're dredging up the past. By doing so, you're airing my dirty linen for all the town to see.

Again."

"I had no idea who Junior's first wife was, or that she even lived in Purcell."

"Would it have mattered?"

"Probably not," Alex answered with rueful honesty. "I can't see that your marriage to Junior has any bearing on the case. It's a peripheral association that I can't help."

"What about my father?" Stacey asked, switching subjects.

"What about him?"

"This petty investigation of yours is going to cause him embarrassment. It already has."

"How so?"

"The fact that you're questioning his original ruling."

"I'm sorry. I can't help that, either."

"Can't--or won't?" Stacey held her arms straight at her sides and shuddered with revulsion. "I abhor people who trample on the reputations of others for their own personal gain."

"Is that what you think I'm doing?" Alex asked, taking umbrage. "Do you think I devised this investigation to advance my career?"

"Didn't you?"

"No," she answered, firmly shaking her head. "My mother was murdered in that stable. I don't believe that the man accused of it was capable of committing that crime. I want to know what really happened. I will know what happened.

And I'll make the one responsible pay for making me an orphan."

"I was prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I see it's only revenge you want, after all."