Best Kept Secrets(140)


"No." The district attorney gave her a hard look, testing

her truthfulness. "No," she repeated. "Believe me, if I had,

I'd be after him myself. I didn't even catch a glimpse. All I

could make out was a silhouette against the sun. I think he

was wearing some kind of hat."

"Do you think it was a random incident?"

She came up on both elbows. "Do you?"

He patted the air, urging her to lie back down. "No, I

guess it wasn't."

"Then don't tax my strength with stupid questions."

He ran a hand through his hair and swore. "When I told

my old buddy Greg Harper that you'd have carte blanche, I

didn't know that you were going to wreak havoc in my

county."

Her patience with him snapped. "It's my head that moun-



tains are being slammed against, Mr. Chastain. Why are you

whining?"

"Well, dammit, Alex. Judge Wallace, who didn't like me

much in the first place, is hotter than a pistol. I can't win a

single point in his courtroom these days. You've all but called three of the county's leading citizens murderers. Pasty

Hickam, a fixture in this town, turns up dead while you're with him. You were at Nora Gail Burton's whorehouse when

a shooting took place. Goddamn it, why'd you have to open

up that hornets' nest?"

She pressed her hand to her throbbing forehead. "It wasn't

by choice. I was following a lead." She lowered her hand

and gave him a pointed look. "And don't worry, your secret

interest in Nora Gail's is safe with me."

He squirmed guiltily in his chair. "I tell you, Alex, you've

got a bull by the horns here, and it almost got you killed

tonight."

"Which should prove that I'm getting closer to the truth.

Someone's trying to bump me off to protect himself."

"I guess," he said morosely. "What have you got that

you didn't have before you got here?"

"Firmly established motives, for one thing."

"Anything else?"

"A shortage of concrete alibis. Reede Lambert says he

was with Nora Gail. She admitted that she would perjure

herself if necessary to corroborate that, which leads me to

believe that he wasn't with her all night. Junior hasn't produced

any kind of alibi."

"What about Angus?"

"He claims he was at the ranch, but so was Celina. If

Angus was there all night, he would have had ample opportunity."

"So would Gooney Bud, if he'd followed her out there,"

Pat said, "and that's what a good defense attorney will tell

the jury. No one gets life on probable cause. You've still got

nothing that places one of them in that stable with a scalpel

in his hand."



"I was on my way to your office this afternoon to talk to

you about that when I was run off the road."

"Talk to me about what?"

"The vet's scalpel. What happened to it?"

An expression of surprise came over his face. "You're the

second person this week to ask me that."

Alex struggled to prop herself up on one elbow. "Who

else asked you about it?''

"I did," Reede Lambert said from the doorway.



Thirty-eight



Alex's insides lifted weightlessly. She had dreaded the moment

she would see him again. It was inevitable, of course,

but she had hoped to appear unscathed by what had happened

between them.

Lying on a hospital examination table, her hair clotted with

blood, her hands painted with pumpkin-colored antiseptic,

too weak and muzzy to sit up, didn't exactly convey the

impression of invincibility she had desired.

"Hello, Sheriff Lambert. You'll be pleased to know that

I took your advice and stopped looking over my shoulder for

bogeymen."

Ignoring her, he said, "Hi, Pat. I just got off the radio

with the deputy."

"Then you heard what happened?"

"My first thought was that Plummet was involved, but the

deputy said her car was struck by an ME truck."

"That's right."

"ME encompasses a lot of companies. Just about anybody

in the county could get access to one of those trucks."



"Including you," Alex suggested snidely.

Reede finally acknowledged her existence with a hard stare.

The D.A. looked at them uneasily. "Uh, where were you,

Reede? Nobody could find you."

"I was out on horseback. Anybody at the ranch could tell

you that."

"I had to ask," Pat said apologetically.

"I understand, but you ought to know that running somebody

off the road isn't quite my style. Besides me, who do

you think could have done it?" he asked Alex pointedly.

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