Best Kept Secrets(38)

"Cause I cain't, that's why."

It was risky to go into it with her now over the telephone.

Somebody might pick up another extension somewhere on

the ranch and overhear him. That could prove to be unhealthy.

"I'll call you back."

"But--"

"I'll call you back."

He hung up, enjoying her anxiety. He remembered the way

her mama used to sashay around, like she owned the world.

Many a summer day, he'd ogled her lustfully while she frolicked

in the swimming pool with Junior and Reede. They'd

put their hands all over her and call it roughhousing. But she

was too good to even cast an eye in Pasty's direction. He

hadn't minded that she got herself killed. He sure as hell

hadn't interfered and stopped it when he could have.

He remembered that night and everything that had happened

like it was yesterday. It was a secret that he'd kept all

this time. Now it would be divulged. And it was gonna tickle

him to death to tell that prosecutor all about it.



Eleven



"Are you waiting to give me a parking ticket?" Alex asked

as she got out of her car and locked it. She was feeling chipper





this morning, due to the unexpected telephone call she had

received the night before. Maybe the caller was the eyewitness

she'd been praying for. But it could have been a crank

call, too, she realistically reminded herself.

If he was genuine, it would be a tragedy if he named Reede

Lambert as Celina's murderer. He looked extremely attractive

leaning against the parking meter. Actually, since the meter

was listing to the right, it might have been leaning on Reede.

"I should change my mind since you're being a smart ass,

but I'm such a nice guy . . ."He slipped a canvas hood over

the meter. In blue letters it was labeled, city of purcell-- official car. "Take this with you when you leave and use

it from now on. It'll save you some change."

He turned and started up the sidewalk toward the courthouse.

Alex fell into step beside him. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." They climbed the stairs and went

inside. "Come down to my office," he said. "I've got something

to show you."

Curious, she followed his lead. They hadn't parted on the

best of terms the night before. Yet this morning, he was

going out of his way to be hospitable. Deciding that was

out of character, Alex couldn't help but be suspicious of his

motives.

When they reached the lower level, everyone in the squad

room stopped what he was doing to stare. The scene became

as still as a photograph.

Reede gave the room one slow, meaningful sweep of his

eyes. Activity was immediately resumed. He hadn't spoken

a single word, but it was apparent that he wielded tremendous

authority over his staff. They either feared or respected him.

Alex suspected the former.

Reede stepped around her, swung open a door to the left

of the staircase, and moved aside so she could go in. She

stepped into a small square, windowless, cheerless office. It

was as cold as a meat locker. There was a desk so dented

and scarred it looked like it had been made from scrap metal.

The particleboard top was ink-stained, and holes had been



chipped out of it. Sitting on it were an overflowing ashtray

and a black, no-frills telephone. Behind it was a swivel chair

she had little confidence in.

"It's yours to use if you want it," Reede told her. "I'm

sure you're accustomed to fancier office space."

"No. Actually, my cubicle in Austin is not much larger

than this. Whom should I thank?"

"The city of Purcell."

"But it was somebody's idea. Yours, Reede?"

"So what if it was?"

"So," she said, drawing out the word in an effort to ignore

the chip he carried on his shoulder, "thank you."

"You're welcome."

Trying to temper the animosity between them, she smiled

and said teasingly, "Now that we're in the same building, I

can keep a closer eye on you."

He pulled the door shut as he backed out. "You've got it

backwards, Counselor. I can keep a closer eye on you."



Alex tossed down her ballpoint pen and vigorously rubbed

, her chilled arms. The electric space heater she had bought at

: the hardware store was on full blast, but it wasn't helping

I much. The square little office was frigid and seemed to be

the only dank, damp spot in this otherwise arid climate.

Earlier she had bought office supplies: paper, pencils, pens,

paper clips. The office was hardly comfortable, but at least

it was functional. It was also much more centrally located

than her room at the Westerner Motel.

After checking to see that the heater was indeed working