Best Kept Secrets(39)

at its maximum, she bent over her notes again. It had taken

all afternoon to compile and arrange them according to the

individuals involved.

Beginning with her profile on Angus, she reread the briefs.

Unfortunately, they were no more concrete or factually based

than they had been the first dozen times she'd read them.

What she had was conjecture and hearsay. What few facts

she had, she had known when she left Austin. So far, this



trip had been a waste of taxpayers' money, and almost a week

of Greg's deadline had elapsed.

For the time being, she decided to let the question of

opportunity wait. She had to establish motives. All she had

learned so far was that the three men had adored Celina.

Adoration was hardly motivation for murder.

She had nothing--no evidence, not even a viable suspect.

She was certain that Buddy Hicks hadn't killed her mother,

yet she was no closer to discovering who had.

After spending time alone with Angus, Junior, and Reede,

Alex was convinced that getting a confession would be tantamount

to a miracle. Contrition and repentance didn't fit

their personality profiles. Nor would one testify against the

other. The loyalties were solidly forged, though it was obvious their friendship wasn't what it had once been, which

in itself was a clue. Had Celina's death splintered their clique,

yet kept them bound to one another?

She still hoped that the person who had called a few nights before was an actual eyewitness. She had waited for days for

another call, one that hadn't come, which was a strong indication

that it had been a prank.

Apparently, the only people near the stable that night had

been Gooney Bud, the killer, and Celina. Gooney Bud was

dead. The killer wasn't talking. And Celina--

Alex was suddenly inspired. Her mother couldn't talk--

at least, not in the literal sense--but she might have something

valuable to tell.

The idea made Alex sick to her stomach. She propped her

forehead on the palms of her hands and closed her eyes. Did

she have the fortitude to do it?

She groped for alternatives, but came up empty-handed.

She needed evidence, and she could think of only one place

to look for it.

Before she could change her mind, she switched off the heater and left the office. Avoiding the unreliable elevator,

she jogged up the stairs, hoping that she would catch Judge

Joe Wallace before he left for the day.



She anxiously checked her wristwatch. It was almost five

o'clock. She didn't want to put this off until tomorrow. Now

that her mind was made up, she wanted to act on her decision

before she had the time and opportunity to back out.

The corridors on the second floor were deserted. Jurors

had been dismissed for the day. Trials were in recess until

tomorrow. Her footsteps echoed loudly as she made her way

toward the judge's chambers adjacent to the empty courtroom.

His secretary was still in the anteroom, and none too pleased

to see her.

"I need to speak with the judge immediately." Alex was

out of breath after quickly climbing two flights of stairs, and

her voice was tinged with desperation.

"He's fixin' to leave for the day," she was told with a

lack of apology. "I can make an appoint--"

"This is vitally important, or I wouldn't bother him at this

time of day."

Alex wasn't intimidated by Mrs. Lipscomb's censorious

stare or the retiring sigh she emitted as she left her desk and

moved to the connecting door. She knocked discreetly, then

went inside, closing the door behind her. Alex paced impatiently

until she returned.

"He's agreed to see you. Briefly."

"Thank you." Alex rushed past her and into the chambers.

"Well, what is it this time, Miss Gaither?" Judge Wallace

barked at her the instant she crossed the threshold. He was

pulling on his overcoat. "You seem to have a nasty habit of

showing up without an appointment. As you can see, I'm

leaving. My daughter Stacey doesn't like to hold dinner, and

it would be rude of me to expect her to."

"I apologize to both of you, Judge. As I told your secretary,

it's urgent that I talk to you this afternoon."

"Well?" he demanded cantankerously.

"Could we sit down?"

"I can talk standing up. What do you want?"

"I want you to issue a court order to have my mother's

body exhumed."



The judge sat down then. Or rather, he dropped down into

the chair in front of which he was standing. He stared up at

Alex with undisguised dismay.

"I beg your pardon?" he wheezed.

"I believe you heard me, Judge Wallace, although if it's

necessary to repeat my request, I will."

He waved his hand. "No. Good Lord, no. Hearing it once

was bad enough." He cupped each knee with a hand and