Best Kept Secrets(36)



"Are you so sure?"



"Yes."

"Careful. When you round a blind corner, you'd better

know what's waiting for you."

"Care to be less oblique?"

"It could go one of two ways. Either you won't measure

up to her, or you'll find out that being like her isn't all that

terrific."

"Well, which is it?"

His eyes swept over her. "Like her, looking at you reminds

a man that he is one. And like her, you use that to your

advantage."

"Meaning?"

"She was no saint."

"I didn't expect her to be."

''Didn't you?'' he asked silkily. ''I believe you did. I think

you've created this fantasy mother in your head and you

expect Celina to fulfill it for you."

"That's ridiculous." Her strenuous denial sounded juvenile

and obstinate. More calmly, she said, "It's true that

Grandma Graham thought the sun rose and set on Celina. I

was brought up to believe she was everything a young woman

should be. But I'm a woman myself now, and mature enough

to realize that my mother was made of flesh and blood, with

flaws, just like everybody else."

He studied her face for a moment. "Just remember that I

warned you," he said softly. "You should go back to the

Westerner, pack up your designer clothes and your legal

briefs, and head for Austin. Leave the past alone. Nobody

around here wants to remember that blight on Purcell's

history--particularly with that license hanging in the balance.

They'd much rather leave Celina lying dead in this stable

than--"

"This stable?" Alex gasped. "My mother was killed

here?"

It was clear to her that he hadn't intended to let that slip.

He cursed beneath his breath before answering curtly, "That's

right."



"Where? Which stall?"

"It doesn't mat--"

"Show me, damn you! I'm sick to death of your half

answers and evasions. Show me where you found her body

that morning, Sheriff." She enunciated the last word carefully,

reminding him that it was his sworn duty to protect

and serve.

Without another word, he turned and strode toward the

door through which she had entered the barn. At the second

stall in the row, he halted. "Here."

Alex came to a full stop, then moved forward slowly until

she was even with Reede. She turned to face the stall. There

was no hay in it, just the rubber-covered floor. The gate had

been removed because no horse was occupying the stall. It

looked innocent, almost sterile.

"There hasn't been a horse boarded in this stall since it

happened." Scornfully, he added, "Angus has a sentimental

streak."

Alex tried to envision a bloody corpse lying in the stall,

but couldn't. She raised inquiring eyes to Reede.

The skin seemed more tautly stretched across his cheekbones,

and the vertical lines that framed his mouth appeared

more pronounced than they had a few moments ago, when

he had been angry. A visit to the scene of the crime wasn't

as easy for him as he wanted to pretend.

"Tell me about it. Please."

He hesitated, then said, "She was lying diagonally, her

head in that corner, her feet about here." He touched a spot

with the toe of his boot. "She was covered with blood. It

was in her hair, on her clothes, everywhere." Alex had heard

jaded homicide detectives discussing gory murder sites with

more emotion. Reede's voice was hollow and monotonal, but

his features were stark with pain. ' 'Her eyes were still open.''

"What time was that?" she asked huskily.

"When I found her?" She nodded, finding it difficult to

speak. "Dawn. Around six-thirty."

"What were you doing here at that time of day?"



"I usually started mucking the stables around seven. That

particular morning I was worried about the mare."

"Oh, yes, the one that had foaled the day before. So, you

had come to check on her and the foal?"

"That's right."

Tears were shimmering in her eyes as she raised them to

his. "Where were you the night before?"

"Out."

"All night?"

"Since supper time, yes."

"Alone?"

His lips narrowed with irritation. "If you want more answers,

Counselor, bring the case to trial."

"I plan to."

As she brushed past him on her way to the door, he caught

her arm and drew her up against him. He felt hard and powerfully

male. "Miss Gaither," he growled in irritation and

impatience, "you're smart. Drop this. If you don't, somebody's

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