Best Kept Secrets(46)

"Answer my question." Reede slammed the door and

strode into the room. "I've got a hysterical undertaker on my

hands because of you, lady. How'd you get here, anyway?"

"I drove."

"You can't drive in this."

"I did."

"What is all this?" With an angry swipe of his hand, he

indicated the files strewn across the desk.

"Mr. Davis's records for the year my mother was killed.

He gave me permission to sort through them."

"You coerced him."

"I did no such thing."

"Intimidated him, then. Did he ask to see your search

warrant?"

"No."

"Do you have one?"

"No. But I can get one."

"Not without probable cause."



"I want proof positive that Celina Gaither's body is not

interred in that grave at the cemetery."

"Why didn't you do something sensible, like get a shovel

and start digging?"

That silenced her. It took her a moment to recover. At last

she said, "You're in a surly mood this morning. Rough

night?"

"Yeah. I got laid, but it wasn't very good."

Her eyes dropped to the littered table. "Oh. I'm sorry to

hear that."

"What, that I got laid?"

She gazed back up at him. "No, that it wasn't very good."

They shared a lengthy stare. His face looked as rugged and

craggy as a mountain range, but it was one of the most

appealing she'd ever encountered.

Whenever they were together, she was involuntarily aware

of him, of his body, of the way she was drawn to him. She

knew her attraction was unethical and reckless, from a professional

standpoint, and compromising, from a personal one.

He'd belonged to her mother first.

Yet, too often she wanted to touch him or to be touched

by him. Last night she'd wanted him to hold her longer while

she cried. Thankfully, he'd had better sense and had left.

Who had he gone to? Alex wondered. Where and when

had the unsatisfactory lovemaking taken place? Had it been

before or after he'd come to her motel room? Why hadn't it

been any good?

Several moments elapsed before she lowered her head and

resumed sorting through the files.

Not one to be ignored, he reached across the table and

placed his hand beneath her chin, jerking it toward him. "I

told you that Celina was cremated.''

She jumped to her feet. "After you and Judge Wallace put

your heads together and discussed it. That seems a little

convenient to me."

"You enjoy imagining things."

' 'Why didn't Junior mention that Celina had been cremated



when he saw me in the cemetery? I'm thinking that maybe

she is buried there. That's why I'm going through all these

files."

"Why would I lie about it?"

"To keep me from having the body exhumed."

"Again, why? What difference would that make to me?"

"Life imprisonment," she said tightly, "if the forensic

report implicated you as her murderer."

"Ah . . ." At a loss for a word foul enough, he slammed

his fist into his opposite palm and ground it against the tough

flesh. "Is this what they teach you in law school--to start

grasping at straws when all else fails?"

"Exactly."

He planted his hands firmly on the desk and leaned far

across it. "You're not a lawyer, you're a witch hunter."

That stung because Alex did feel like one. This search had

a vigilante desperation to it that left a bad taste in her mouth.

She sat back down and laid her hands on top of the open

files.

Turning her head away, she stared out at the winter landscape.

The naked branches of the sycamore trees on the lawn

were encased in tubes of ice. Sleet pellets made tiny pinging

sounds against the windowpanes. The sky and everything

below it were a dead, dismal gray. Lines of distinction were

imprecise. The world was monochromatic--without light and

shadows.

Some things, however, were black and white. Chief among

them was the law.

"That might be true if there hadn't been a crime, Reede,"

she said, bringing her head back around. "But there was.

Somebody went into that stable and stabbed my mother."

"With a scalpel. Right," he said scoffingly. "Can you

envision Angus, Junior or me wielding a surgical instrument?

Why not kill her with our bare hands? Strangle her?"

"Because you're all too clever. One of you made it to look

like a mentally unbalanced man had done it." She splayed

her hand upon her chest and asked earnestly, "In my place,



wouldn't you want to know who that someone was and why