Best Kept Secrets(18)

"If you've got nothing to hide, then you've got no reason

to believe that your excellent record will be marred by my

asking a few questions, do you?"



"Proceed," he said stiffly.

"The two court-appointed psychiatrists disagreed on Mr.

Hicks's mental condition the night of my mother's murder.

This was the glitch that first intrigued me. After calling District

Attorney Harper's attention to it, he agreed that the case

should be reinvestigated.

' 'One psychiatrist clearly believed that Hicks was incapable

of committing such an act of violence. The other said he was.

Why didn't you seek a third, tie-breaking opinion?"

"It wasn't necessary."

"I disagree, Judge." She paused a moment, then looked

up at him without lifting her head. "You were golf partners

with the doctor you ruled in favor of. The other psychiatrist

was from out of town. That was the first and only time he

ever appeared in your court as an expert witness."

Judge Wallace's face became red with indignation. "If you

doubt my honesty, I suggest you consult with the doctors

themselves, Miss Gaither."

"I've tried. Unfortunately, both are deceased." She met

his hostile gaze coolly. "I did, however, consult with the

last doctor to treat Mr. Hicks. He says you punished the

wrong man, and has given me an affidavit to that effect."

"Miss Gaither." He rose partially from his chair and

slapped the top of his desk. He was angry, but he also felt

naked and vulnerable. The soft knock on his door was a

godsend. "Yes?"

Sheriff Lambert strolled in.

"Reede!" Alex wouldn't have been surprised if the judge

had rushed across the room and embraced him. He seemed

that glad to see him. "Come in."

"Mrs. Lipscomb said you weren't to be disturbed, but

when she told me who was with you, I convinced her that I

might be of service."

"To whom?" Alex asked tartly.

Reede sauntered to the chair next to hers and dropped into

it. Insolent green eyes moved over her. "To anybody who

needs servicing."



Alex chose to ignore the double entendre and hoped he

would ignore the mounting color in her face. She directed

her attention to the judge.

"Miss Gaither was curious to know why I ruled Mr. Hicks

incompetent to stand trial. Since she didn't know him, she

can't appreciate how easily he fit the criteria of being unable

to understand the charges against him and assist in his own

defense."

"Thank you, Judge Wallace," she said, seething, "but I

know the criteria. What I don't know is why you made the

ruling so hastily."

"I saw no need for a postponement," the judge replied,

obviously more at ease now that Reede was there. "I told

you earlier that most people in town merely tolerated Hicks.

Your mother, to her credit, was kind to him. Gooney Bud

latched on to her, in a pathetic way. I'm sure he was often

a nuisance, the way he followed her around like a devoted

little puppy. Right, Reede?"

The sheriff nodded. "Celina wouldn't let anybody pick on

him when she was around. He used to give her presents, you

know, mesquite beans, rocks, stuff like that. She always

thanked him like he'd given her the crown jewels."

"I figure that Gooney Bud mistook her kindness for a

deeper emotion," Judge Wallace said. "He followed her into

the Mintons' stable that night and, uh, tried to force his

attentions on her."

"Rape her?" Alex asked bluntly.

"Well, yes," the judge said, flustered. "And when she

rebuffed him, he couldn't handle the rejection, and ..."

"Stabbed her thirty times," Alex supplied.

"You force me to be insensitive, Miss Gaither." Joe Wallace

looked at her reproachfully.

Alex crossed her legs. Her stockings made a slippery, silky

sound that drew the sheriffs attention to them. She caught

him staring at her hemline, but tried not to let it bother her

as she continued to question the jittery judge.

"Let me make sure I understand. It's your contention that

the murder wasn't premeditated, but a crime of passion?"



"As you said, it's conjecture."

"Okay, but for the sake of argument, let's say that's the

way it was. If Bud Hicks was acting out of extreme provocation,

outrage, uncontrollable lust, wouldn't he have utilized

a pitch-fork, or a rake, or something else that was handy?

What was he doing with a scalpel if he didn't enter that stable

with the intention of killing her?"

"That's easy," Reede said. Alex looked at him sharply.

"A mare had foaled that day. It was a difficult birth. We