Best Kept Secrets(21)

for a woman who's been dead all these years."

"I've hardly pined," Junior countered. "Since the day I

figured out how this operates," he said, touching the fly of

his pants, "it hasn't gone inactive for long."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Angus said, frowning.

"Anybody can get laid on a regular basis. I'm talking

about your life. Commitment to something. You were upset

for a long time after Celina died. It took you a while to pull

your shit together. Okay, that was understandable."

He pushed the footstool of his chair and sat up straight,

pointing a blunt finger at Junior. "But you stalled, boy, and

you haven't worked up a full head of steam since. Look at

Reede. He took Celina's death hard, too, but he got over

her."

"How do you know he got over her?"

"Do you see him moping around?"

"I'm the one who's had three wives, not Reede."

"And that's something to be proud of?" Angus shouted,

his temper snapping. "Reede's made his life count for something.

He's got a career--"

"Career?" Junior interrupted with a contemptuous snort.

"I'd hardly call being sheriff of this piss-ant county a career.

Big f*ckin' deal."

' 'What would you call a career? Screwing the entire female

membership of the country club before you die?"

"I do my fair share of work around here," Junior argued.

"I spent all morning on the phone with that breeder in Ken





tucky. He's this close to buying that colt by Artful Dodger

out of Little Bit More."

"Yeah, what did he say?"

"That he's seriously thinking about it."

Angus came out of his chair, booming his approval.

"That's great news, son. That old man's a tough son of a

bitch, I've heard tell. He's a crony of Bunky Hunt's. Feeds

his horses caviar and shit like that after they win." Angus

slapped Junior on the back and ruffled his hair as though he

were three, instead of forty-three.

"However," Angus said, his frown returning, "that just

emphasizes how much we stand to lose if the racing commission

rescinds that license before the ink on it is even dry.

One breath of scandal and we're history. So, how are we

gonna handle Alexandra?"

"Handle her?"

Favoring his ailing toe, Angus hobbled toward the refrigerator

to get another beer. "We can't wish her away. The

way I see it," he said, twisting off the bottle cap, "we'll

just have to convince her that we're innocent. Upstanding

citizens." He gave an elaborate shrug. "Since that's exactly

what we are, it shouldn't be that hard to do."

Junior could tell when the wheels of his father's brain were

turning. "How will we go about that?"

"Not we--you. By doing what you do best."

"You mean--?"

"Seduce her."

"Seduce her!" Junior exclaimed. "She didn't strike me

as being a prime candidate for seduction. I'm sure she can't

stand our guts."

"Then, that's the first thing we gotta change . . . you gotta

change. Just seduce her into liking you ... at first. I'd do

it myself if I still had the proper equipment." He gave his

son a wicked smile. "Think you can handle such an unpleasant chore?"

Junior grinned back. "I'd damn sure welcome the opportunity

to try."



Six





The cemetery gates were open. Alex drove through them.

She had never been to her mother's grave, but she knew the

plot number. It had been jotted down and filed among some

official papers that she'd found when she had moved her

grandmother into the nursing home.



The sky looked cold and unfriendly. The sun was suspended

just above the western horizon like a giant orange

disk, brilliant but brassy. Tombstones cast long shadows

across the dead grass.



Using discreet signposts for reference, Alex located the

correct row, parked her car, and got out. As far as she could

tell, she was the only person there. Here on the outskirts of

town, the north wind seemed stronger, its howl more ominous.

She flipped up the collar of her coat as she made her

way toward the plot.



Even though she was searching for it, she wasn't prepared

to see the grave. It rushed up on her unexpectedly. Her impulse was to turn away, as though she'd happened upon an

atrocity, something horrible and offensive.



The rectangular marker was no more than two feet high.





She wouldn't have ever noticed it if it weren't for the

name. It gave only her mother's date of birth, and date of