Best Kept Secrets(85)

sound and pointed an accusing finger. "You. You did this to

us."

Alex recoiled. "I--"

"It's your fault, you meddlesome, spiteful little bitch!"

"Mother," Junior said, not in chastisement, but commiseration.

Spent by her outburst, Sarah Jo collapsed against

him. He gave Alex a penetrating look, but it seemed more

puzzled than accusatory. Without speaking again, he moved

on with Sarah Jo, whose head was now bent in misery against

her son's chest.

"What happened, Ely?" Reede asked, seemingly unaware

of the other drama.

"A falling beam must've landed square on him. He went

down hard and broke his shoulder," the man called Ely said

quietly. Apparently, he was a veterinarian.





"Give him some painkiller, for crissake."

"I already have. It's strong, but it can't anesthetize this."

He gazed down at the suffering animal. "His femur's busted,

too. I can only guess at his internal injuries. Even if I could

patch him up, he'd likely be sickly from now on, and no use

to you as a stud."

They stood silent a moment, listening to the pitiful sounds

coming from the animal. At last Angus said, "Thank you,

Ely. We know you've done all you could."

"I'm sorry, Angus, Reede," the vet said, meaning it.



"Y'all go on outta here. I need to make a quick trip to the

office and get the drug, then I'll come back and give him the

injection."

"No." The word came hoarsely from Reede's lips. "I'll

do it."

"You oughtn't to do that, Reede. The injection is--"

"I can't let him wait that long."

"It won't take me ten minutes."

"I said, I'll do it," Reede shouted impatiently.

Angus intervened, clapping the well-meaning vet hard on

the shoulder to stem any further arguments. "Go on home,

Ely. Sorry to have dragged you out for this."

"I'm damned sorry. I've been treating Double Time since

he was foaled."

Alex's hand flew up to cover her mouth. Double Time was

Reede's adored racehorse. The vet left by another door. He

didn't see Alex.

Firemen shouted back and forth to each other outside. Other

horses snorted fearfully, and restlessly tramped the floors of

their stalls. Those sounds seemed distant and detached from

the tense silence in that one single stall.

"Reede, you gonna be all right, boy?"

"Yes. Go see to Sarah Jo. I'll take care of this."

The older man looked ready to argue, but finally turned

away. He gave Alex a hard, pointed look as he passed her,

but said nothing before stamping out.

She wanted to cry as she watched Reede kneel in the hay.

He rubbed the injured horse's muzzle. "You were good--

the best," he whispered softly. "You gave it all you had,

and then some." The animal nickered in what sounded like

a plea.

Reede slowly came to his feet and reached for the pistol

in his holster. He took it out, checked the chamber, and

pointed it down at the racehorse.

"No!" Alex rushed out of the shadows and grabbed his

arm. "Reede, no, don't. Let someone else."

She had seen hardened criminals, after being sentenced to



death, turn on their prosecutors, the judge, the jury, and

vituperatively swear vengeance, even if from beyond the

grave.

But she had never seen such deadly intent on a face as

when Reede looked down at her. His eyes were glazed with

tears and hatred. With uncanny speed, he encircled her waist

and drew her backward against his chest. She struggled. He

cursed and increased the pressure of his arm across her midriff.

He took her right hand in his left and forcibly wrapped her

reluctant fingers around the pistol, so that she was actually

holding it when he aimed the barrel between the horse's eyes

and pulled the trigger.

"No!"

She screamed the instant the pistol went off in her hand.

The deadly sound seemed to ricochet off the stone walls of

the stable and reverberate forever. Horses whinnied and

tramped in fear. Someone outside shouted, and several of the

firemen scrambled through the door to see what the shot

meant.

Reede shoved Alex away from him. His voice crackling

with rage, he said, "You should have done it clean like that

in the first place, and spared him the agony."



"The fire's completely put out, Mr. Minton," the fire chief

reported. "We checked all the wiring, insulation, everything

in the roof. All the damage was superficial." He clicked his

lips against his gums. "Damn shame about Reede Lambert's

Thoroughbred, though."

"Thank you for all you've done. I've always said our fire