Best Kept Secrets(157)



trophies, my own father's respect. You didn't even want

Celina anymore, but you made damn sure I didn't get her,

didn't you?"

"Shut up," Reede snarled, taking a threatening step forward.

Junior aimed his finger at the center of Reede's chest. "Stay

away from me, you hear? Just stay the hell away from me."

He slammed out the front door. The racket echoed through

the small house. After the Jag's roar had faded, Reede headed

toward the kitchen. "Want some coffee?"

Alex was stunned by what Junior had said, and even more

shocked by Reede's cavalier reaction. She ran into the

kitchen. Coffee grounds showered from the metal scoop when

she grabbed his arm and spun him around.

"Before I fall completely in love with you, Reede, there's

something I've got to ask one final time." She took a sharp

breath. "Did you kill my mother?"

Several heartbeats later he replied, "Yes."



Forty-three





Fergus Plummet stood at the side of the bed, looking down

at his sleeping wife, his body quivering with indignation.

"Wanda, wake up." His imperious tone of voice could have

awakened the dead.



Wanda opened her eyes and sat up, groggy and disoriented.

"Fergus, what time--" Everything sprang into clarity when

she saw what he was holding in his hand--five incriminating

one-hundred-dollar bills.



"Get up," he ordered before marching from the room.



Trembling in fear, Wanda got out of bed. She dressed as

quickly as she could and ruthlessly raked her hair back, not

wanting him to find more fault with her.



He was waiting for her in the kitchen, sitting straight and

tall at the table. Like a penitent, she timorously approached

him.



"Fergus, I ... I was saving it as a surprise."



"Silence," he bellowed. "Until I tell you to speak, you

will remain silent and soul-searching." His accusing eyes

pierced straight through her. She bowed her head in shame.



"Where did you get it?"



"It came in the mail yesterday."



"In the mail?"



Her head wobbled up and down in a frantic nod of affirmation.

"Yes. In that envelope." It was lying on the table

beside his cup of coffee.





"Why did you hide it from your husband, to whom you

are supposed to be submissive, according to holy scripture?"

"I," she began, then stopped to wet her lips, "I was saving

it to give you as a surprise."

His eyes smoldered with suspicion. "Who sent it?"

Wanda raised her head and looked at him stupidly.' 'I don't

know."

He closed his eyes and swayed as though entranced.' 'Satan, I

command you to release her from your evil power. You have

control of her lying tongue. Give it back, in the name--"

"No!" Wanda shouted. "I'm not lying. I thought it probably

came from one of those folks you've been talking to on

the phone about what you did out at the Minton ranch."

He was out of his chair like a shot. Rounding the table,

he bore down on her. "How dare you mention that? Didn't

I tell you never, never to utter a word about that?"

"I forgot," she said, cowering. "I thought maybe the

money came from somebody who appreciated what you did.''

"I know who it came from," he hissed.

"Who?"

"Come with me." He grabbed her hand and dragged her

toward the door that connected the kitchen to the garage.

"Where are we going, Fergus?"

"Wait and see. I want the sinners to meet face-to-face."

"The kids are--"

"God will watch over them until we get back."

With Wanda sitting shivering in the front seat beside him,

Plummet drove through the sleeping streets of town. At the

highway, he headed west. He seemed unaware of the cold,

warmed by his coat of righteousness. When he took the turnoff,

Wanda stared at him in total disbelief, but he shot her a

look of such condemnation that she wisely refrained from

uttering a peep.

He pulled up in front of the large house and ordered his

wife to get out of the car. His footsteps landed hard on the

hollow steps and his knock rang out loudly in the stillness of

early morning. No one answered his first knock, so he



pounded harder on the door. When still no one came, he

emphatically banged on the window nearest him.

Nora Gail herself pulled open the door and aimed the barrel

of a small handgun directly at his forehead. "Mister, you'd

better have damned good reason for beating down my door

and getting me out of bed at this ungodly hour."

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