Best Kept Secrets(66)



tell me."

He stood up. So did Alex. "Junior had invited her for

supper, that's all."

"Was it a special occasion?"

"Ask him."

"I'm asking you. What was the occasion? And don't tell

me you don't remember."

"Maybe he felt sorry for her."



"Sorry? Why?"

"For being cooped up with a kid, not getting out. Her

social life had gone to zilch. She was only eighteen, for

crissake." He stepped around her and headed for the door.

Alex wasn't ready to let it go at that. His answer was too

pat. She caught his arm and forced him to face her. "Were

you there at dinner that night?"

"Yeah, I was there." He jerked his arm free.

"The entire evening?"

"I left before dessert."

"Why?"

"I don't like cherry pie."

She groaned with frustration. "Answer me, Reede. Why

did you leave?"

"I had a date."

"With whom? Does she still live here in town?"

"What the hell difference does it make?"

"She's your alibi. I'd like to talk to her."

"Forget it. I'll never drag her into this."

"You might have to, or plead the Fifth."

"Don't you ever give up?" he asked through bared teeth.

"Never. Did you return to the ranch that night?"

"No."

"Not at all?"

"No."

"Not even to sleep?"

"I told you, I had a date." He put his face close enough

to hers that she could feel his breath against her lips. "And

she was hot."

He gave a terse bob of his head to emphasize his point,

then turned to leave. "I'm due in court. Close the door on

your way out, will ya?"



Eighteen





"Miss Gaither?"

"Yes?"

Alex didn't feel like having company. Her latest altercation

with Reede had left her drained. After last night, her nerves

were shot. Neither Reede's glib explanation of the Hickam

man's murder or any amount of her own sound reasoning had

convinced her that she wasn't in danger.

So, when someone knocked on her motel room door, she

had approached it cautiously and looked through the peephole.

A strange, but evidently harmless couple, were on her

threshold. She opened the door and looked at them expectantly.

Suddenly, the man stuck out his hand. Startled, Alex

jumped back. "Reverend Fergus Plummet." Feeling foolish,

Alex shook hands with him. "Did I frighten you? I'm dreadfully

sorry. I didn't mean to."

The reverend's mannerisms were so deferential, his tone

of voice so sympathetic, he hardly posed a threat. He had a

slight build and was shorter than average, but held himself

erect with almost military posture. His black suit was shiny

in spots and inadequate for the season. He wore no overcoat

and nothing to cover his wavy dark hair, which was fuller

than current fashion dictated. In a community where almost

every male from the age of twelve wore either a cowboy hat

or bill cap, it looked odd to see a man without one.



"This is my wife, Wanda."

"Hello, Mrs. Plummet, Reverend."

Mrs. Plummet was a large woman, with a notable bosom

that she'd tried to minimize by covering it with a drab olive

cardigan sweater. Her hair was pulled back into a knot on

the back of her head, which she kept meekly lowered. Her

husband had referred to her with no more personal regard

than he might give a lamppost.

"How'd you know my name?" Alex asked, curious about

the couple.

"Everybody does," he replied with a brief smile. "There's

talk going around town about you."

The minister had a Bible tucked under one arm. Alex

couldn't imagine what a minister was doing at her door--

recruiting new members?

"I guess you're wondering why I'm here," he said, correctly

reading her puzzled expression.

"Frankly, yes. Would you like to come in?"

They stepped into the room. Mrs. Plummet seemed ill at

ease and unsure where to sit until her husband pointed her

to a corner of the bed. He took the only chair. Alex sat down

on the edge of the bed, but far enough away from Mrs.

Plummet for both of them to be comfortable.

The preacher gazed about him. He seemed to be in no

hurry to disclose the reason he was there. Finally, and with

a trace of impatience, Alex asked, "Is there something I can

do for you, Reverend Plummet?"

Closing his eyes, he raised his hand heavenward and

evoked a blessing. "May heaven's rich blessings pour down

on this beloved daughter of God," he intoned in a deep,

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