Best Kept Secrets(55)

"Where will you be?"

"I said no, Counselor."

"You don't have a choice."

"The hell I don't. I'm off duty tomorrow."

"Well, I'm not."

He cursed and blew out an exasperated breath, making

certain she heard both. "If the ground's thawed out, I'll be

at the Minions' practice track."

"I'll find you."

Without another word, he dropped the receiver back into

the cradle. He'd trapped her and he knew it. He'd heard her

breathing falter when he'd asked how she'd known he had

followed her. Whoever she had planned on meeting had

chickened out. Who? Junior? It was disturbing how much he

disliked that idea.

"Who was that?" Nora Gail asked, adjusting the lush white

mink coat around her shoulders. Her beaded sweater had a

low neckline. She amply filled it ... and then some. In the

cleft of her breasts nestled an opal as big around as a silver

dollar. The gold chain suspending it in that magnificent setting

was half an inch wide and studded with small, brilliant diamonds.

She took a black cigarette out of an eighteen-carat gold

box. Reede picked up her matching lighter and held it to the

tip of the cigarette. She curved her hand around his. The

rings on her plump, pampered hand glittered. "Thank you,

sugar."

"Don't mention it." He tossed the lighter back onto the

kitchen table and returned to his chair across from her.



"That was Celina's girl, wasn't it?"

"What if it was?"

"Ah." She pulled her lips into a ruby pucker and blew a

stream of smoke toward his ceiling. "Her ears must have

been burning." Tilting her hand downward, she pointed with

her cigarette at the letter lying on the table. "What do you

think about it?"

Reede picked up the letter and reread it, though its message

had been crystal clear the first time. It urged Alexandra

Gaither to cease and desist in her investigation. The letter

strongly suggested that she suspend all efforts to prosecute

Angus Minton, Junior Minton, and Reede Lambert on any

criminal charges.

The character of each man mentioned was given a glowing

review by the undersigned, who were a group of

concerned citizens--among them, his guest. They were

concerned not only for their esteemed colleagues who found

themselves in this unfortunate circumstance, but also for

themselves and their business interests, should the racetrack

license be revoked in light of Ms. Gaither's unfounded investigation.

In summation, the letter admonished her to retreat immediately

and let them get down to the business of profiting

well off the increased revenue a racetrack would mean to

their community.

After reading the letter a second time, Reede refolded it

and stuffed it into the unsealed envelope. It had been addressed

to Alex in care of the Westerner Motel.

He didn't comment on the contents. Instead, he asked,

"Did you instigate it?"

"I bounced the idea off a few of the others."



"It sounds like one of your brainstorms."



"I'm a careful businesswoman. You know that. The others

thought it was a good idea and took it from there. We all

approved the final draft. I suggested that we get your input

before we mail it to her."

"Why's that?"



"You've spent more time with her than anybody else in

town. We thought you might guess what her reaction will

be."

He studied her impassive features for a long moment. She

was as sly as a fox. She hadn't gotten as rich as she was by

being dumb or careless. Reede liked her, always had. He

slept with her on a regular basis to their mutual satisfaction.

But he didn't trust her.

Feeding someone like her too much information would not

only be unethical, it would be just plain stupid. He had enough

street smarts to know better, and it would take more than an

extended viewing of her spectacular cleavage to loosen his

tongue.

"Your guess is as good as mine how she'll react," he said

noncommittally. "She probably won't react at all."

"Meaning?"

' 'Meaning, I doubt she'll pack her bags and head for Austin

the minute she reads this."

"Courageous, is she?"

Reede shrugged.

"Stubborn?"

He gave a sardonic smile. "You could said that, yeah.

She's damned stubborn."

"I'm curious about this girl."

"Why?"

"Because you frown every time her name comes up." She

sent another stream of acrid smoke ceilingward as she regarded

him closely. "You're frowning now, sugar."

"Habit."