Best Kept Secrets(73)
by the second. The woman had dropped all vestiges of the
shy, insecure maiden she had assumed when Junior had spoken
to her. Her face was stony and uncompromisingly antagonistic.
"Stacey, wasn't it?"
"Yes. Stacey. But the last name isn't Wallace. It's Min-ton."
"Minton?"
"That's right. I am Junior's wife. His first wife."
Twenty
"I can see that's news to you," Stacey said, laughing humorlessly
at Alex's dumbfounded expression.
' 'Yes,'' she replied in a hollow tone.' 'No one's mentioned
that."
Stacey's composure, always intact, deserted her. Flattening
a hand on her meager bosom, she cried out, "Do you have
any idea the damage you're doing?"
"To whom?"
"To me," she shouted, pounding her chest. Immediately
she dropped her hand and rolled her lips inward, as though
mortified by her outburst. She closed her eyes momentarily.
When she opened them, they were filled with animosity, but
she appeared to have regained control of herself.' 'For twenty-five
years I've had to live down the generally held belief that
Junior Minton married me on the rebound from your mother.''
Alex didn't state the obvious, but guiltily lowered her eyes.
"I see that you hold to that belief, too."
"I'm sorry, Miss . . . Stacey. May I call you Stacey?"
"Of course," she replied stiffly.
"I'm sorry that my investigation has distressed you."
"How could it not? You're dredging up the past. By doing
so, you're airing my dirty linen for all the town to see.
Again."
"I had no idea who Junior's first wife was, or that she
even lived in Purcell."
"Would it have mattered?"
"Probably not," Alex answered with rueful honesty. "I
can't see that your marriage to Junior has any bearing on the
case. It's a peripheral association that I can't help."
"What about my father?" Stacey asked, switching subjects.
"What about him?"
"This petty investigation of yours is going to cause him
embarrassment. It already has."
"How so?"
"The fact that you're questioning his original ruling."
"I'm sorry. I can't help that, either."
"Can't--or won't?" Stacey held her arms straight at her
sides and shuddered with revulsion. "I abhor people who
trample on the reputations of others for their own personal
gain."
"Is that what you think I'm doing?" Alex asked, taking
umbrage. "Do you think I devised this investigation to advance
my career?"
"Didn't you?"
"No," she answered, firmly shaking her head. "My
mother was murdered in that stable. I don't believe that the
man accused of it was capable of committing that crime. I
want to know what really happened. I will know what happened.
And I'll make the one responsible pay for making me
an orphan."
"I was prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt, but
I see it's only revenge you want, after all."
"I want justice."
"No matter what it costs other people?"
"I've already apologized for any unhappiness it causes
you."
Stacey made a scoffing sound. "You want to publicly
crucify my father. Don't deny it," she snapped when Alex
started to object. "No matter how much you deny it, you're
leaving him open to ridicule. At the very least, you're accusing
him of making a serious error in judgment."
To deny that would be a lie. "Yes, I believe he made a
bad judgment in the case of Buddy Hicks."
"Daddy's got forty impeccable years on the bench that
vouch for his wisdom and integrity."
"If my investigation is petty, as you call it, it won't affect
his record, will it, Mrs. Minton? A lofty judge couldn't possibly
be brought down by a lowly public prosecutor with
nothing except spite and vengeance for ammunition. Evidence
would be necessary to support my allegations."
"You don't have any."
"I believe I will before I'm finished. If your father's reputation
suffers as a result ..." She drew a deep breath and
raised a weary hand to her forehead. Her expression was
earnest, her words heartfelt. "Stacey, I don't want to ruin
your father's career or besmirch his tenure on the bench. I
don't want to hurt anybody's feelings or cause any innocent
bystander grief or embarrassment. I only want to see justice