Best Kept Secrets(141)

It was difficult for her to even conceive of the idea, much

less speak it aloud. "Junior," she said quietly.

"Junior?" Reede laughed. "Why in hell?"

"I met with him this morning. He doesn't have an alibi

for the night Celina was killed. He admits he was terribly

angry." She glanced down. "I also have reason to believe

he might be angry at me."

"Why?"

She glared up at him with as much defiance as she could

muster. "He came to my room this morning." That's all she

was going to supply him. He could draw his own conclusions.

His eyes narrowed fractionally, but he didn't ask what Junior had been doing in her room. Either he didn't want to

know, or he didn't care. "Anybody else?" he asked. "Or

have you narrowed it down to the two of us?"

"Possibly Angus. I saw him this afternoon, and we didn't

part on the best of terms."

"The three of us again, huh? Do you believe we're to

blame for everything that happens around here?"

"I don't believe anything. I base my suspicions on facts."

She was assailed by a wave of dizziness and nausea and had

to close her eyes for a moment before going on. "I have

another suspect in mind."

"Who?"

"Stacey Wallace."

Pat Chastain reacted like he'd been goosed. "Are you

shittin' me?" He glanced toward the door to make certain it

was closed. "God, please tell me I'm dreaming. You aren't



going to publicly accuse her of anything, are you? Because

if you're even thinking about it, I have to tell you right now,

Alex, that you'll be on your own. I'm not sticking my neck

out again."

"You haven't stuck your neck out for anything, yet!" Alex

shouted, causing a blast of pain through her skull.

"Where would Stacey get access to an ME truck?" Reede

asked.

"I don't have any solid facts," Alex said wearily. "It's

just a hunch."

"Which is all you ever seem to have," Reede said. Alex

gave him a menacing look, which she hoped packed more

punch than she felt it did.

Pat intervened. "About Stacey, what do you base your

allegations on?''

"She lied to me about where she was on the night of the

murder." She related what Stacey had told her in the ladies'

room at the Horse and Gun Club. "I know she still loves

Junior. I don't think I'd get an argument from anyone on

that."

The two men exchanged a glance that signified agreement.

"She's like a mother hen to her father, and she doesn't want

his reputation ruined. And," she added with a sigh, "she

hates me for the same reason she hated Celina--Junior. She

thinks I'm stealing his affection from her, just as my mother

did."

Pat jingled the change in his pockets as he rocked back

and forth on the balls of his feet. "Sounds logical when you

put it that way, but I just can't imagine Stacey using physical

force."

"And here lately, your guesses have been way off base,

Counselor."

Alex struggled to a sitting position. "Let's go back to the

scalpel." She was so dizzy she had to grip the edge of the

table to remain upright. "When did Reede ask you about it,

Pat?"

"If you have something to ask, ask me." Reede moved



to stand directly in front of her. "I mentioned the scalpel to

him a few days ago."

"Why?"

"Just like you, I wanted to know what happened to it."

' 'If you had located it before me, would you have destroyed

it, or turned it over as evidence?"

A muscle in his cheek twitched. "The point is moot. It's

no longer in the evidence room."

"You checked?"

"Damn right. I couldn't find a trace of it. It probably hasn't

been there for years. Most likely, it was thrown out because

the case was."

"Out of consideration to the Collins family, wouldn't

someone have offered to give it back?"

"I have no answer for that."

"Was it ever dusted for fingerprints?"

"I took the liberty of asking Judge Wallace that."

"I'm sure you did, Sheriff. What did he say?"

"He said no."

"Why not?"

"The handle was bloody. Gooney Bud's prints were all

over it. It was hardly necessary to dust it."

They regarded each other with so much animosity that Pat

Chastain broke out in a sweat. "Well, we'd better give these

people back their treatment room. Your car is trashed, Alex,

so I'll drive you to the motel. Are you up to walking to the

car, or should I call for a wheelchair?"