Best Kept Secrets(63)

this afternoon."

"Shit, I would've forgotten. Okay, thanks." The deputy

gratefully withdrew, but Reede had mentally dismissed him

from his mind even before the door clicked shut.

He couldn't hold a thought for longer than a few seconds

this morning. The image of Alex left little room for any

others.

Swearing liberally, he left his chair and moved to the window.

Outside, it was another sunny day. He was reminded

of yesterday, when he'd pulled her up on that horse with him

and the sunlight had turned her hair a deep, mahogany red.

That's what he must have been thinking about when he'd

started shooting off his mouth about that stupid football trophy.

Why, for crissake, had he kept it all this time? Every time

he looked at it his emotions were split right down the middle, the way they'd been the night he had received it. His elation



had been dampened because Junior hadn't been named most

valuable player. Crazy as the notion was, he had wanted to

apologize to Angus and Junior for winning the award. He'd

deserved it because he was the better athlete, but winning

over Junior had tainted the prize.

Alex had figured all that out by herself. She was smart,

all right. But she wasn't as tough as she pretended to be.

She'd had the daylights scared out of her last night, and

justifiably so. Pasty had never been a pretty sight, but dead,

with blood congealing on his down jacket, he was even uglier.

Maybe it had been good for her to see that. Maybe she

wouldn't be so eager to uncover secrets that were none of

her concern. Maybe Pasty's grisly murder would scare her

out of investigating Celina's. Maybe she'd leave Purcell and

never come back.

That possibility should have cheered him. It didn't. It made

him angrier with her and with himself.



Kissing her yesterday had been a dumb move. He had let

her provoke him. He'd lost his temper. He hadn't been in

control of himself. The excuse relieved his conscience, just

enough for him to live with what had happened. At the same

time, however, it scared the hell out of him. Alex had pushed

him over the edge of sound reason. Only one other person

had ever been able to do that--Celina.

How had the clever little witch tricked him into mentioning

that kiss, he wondered. He hadn't thought about it in years,

but all of a sudden, it had been vivid in his mind.

It had been a hot September day, he remembered, when

he had gone to check on Celina after she had failed to report

to school. The old window air-conditioning unit had labored

to cool the stifling little house without much success. The air

was hot and humid, instead of hot and dry.

Celina wasn't acting like herself. She had let him in, but

had acted subdued, as though this first rite of passage into

womanhood had robbed her of girlish animation. Her eyes

had been puffy from crying. He had been scared that something

was terribly wrong.



When she had told him about her period, he'd been so

relieved he had wanted to laugh. He hadn't, though. Her

bleak expression had quashed any levity. He had put his arms

around her, held her tenderly, stroked her hair, and reassured

her that it was something wonderful, not shameful. Seeking

comfort, she had wrapped her arms around his waist and

nuzzled her face against his collarbone.

For a long time, they had just clung to each other, as they

had so many times in the past when it seemed that the two

of them were at odds with the rest of the world. But he felt

a need to solemnize this occasion, to officially mark her

departure from childhood.

He had kissed her cheek first. Tears had left it damp and

salty. He kissed his way down. She caught her breath suddenly,

and held it, until he pressed his lips firmly upon hers.

It was a fervent but chaste kiss.

He had kissed other girls using his tongue. The Gail sisters

were already adept at French kissing, and had been eager to

share their expertise with him. At least once a week he met

the three of them in the abandoned VFW hall and took turns

kissing them, feeling their breasts, and slipping his hand into

the elastic legs of their cotton panties to touch the hair between

their thighs. They quarreled over which one got to undo his

pants and fondle him first.

Those sweaty, sordid interludes made life with his father

bearable. They were also the only secret he kept from Celina.

What he did with the Gail sisters would probably embarrass

her if she knew. It might also make her mad. Either way, it

was better that she didn't know about the condemned VFW

hall and what he did there.

But when he felt Celina's mouth beneath his, and heard

that little catch in her throat, he had wanted to kiss her the

correct way--the good and exciting and forbidden way. Unable

to resist the temptation, his body had overruled his mind.