Best Kept Secrets(86)
department is the finest in West Texas."
Some of Angus's heartiness had been restored, though his
features were heavy with fatigue. He was putting up a good
front, as though he was determined not to let this be a setback.
Alex could only admire his stamina and optimism.
He was sitting at the kitchen table with Junior, looking like
he might have been wrapping up an all-night poker game.
instead of holding a wake for a destroyed racehorse and his
vandalized property.
"Guess we'll be taking off, then." The fireman picked up
his hard hat and moved toward the back door. "Someone
will be out tomorrow to look for clues. It's a definite arson.''
"We'll cooperate any way we can. I'm just glad you responded
so quickly and kept the fire from spreading."
"So long." As the fireman went through the back door,
he met Reede coming in. Reede ignored Alex, who was
standing self-consciously against the wall, and poured himself
a cup of coffee from the pot Lupe had brewed.
"The troughs are pure again. The horses won't be poisoned
by their own excrement," he said emotionlessly. "We got
all the windows boarded up so you won't freeze tonight.
There's still a lot of cleanup to do."
"Well," Angus sighed, coming to his feet, "we can't start
on that till daylight, so I'm going up to bed. Thanks, Reede.
You went above and beyond your duties as sheriff."
Reede bobbed his head in quick acknowledgment. "How's
Sarah Jo?"
"Junior made her take a tranquilizer."
"She's sleeping now." Junior stood up also. "Would you
like me to drive you back to town now, Alex? You've got
no business being out here at this time of night."
"I wanted her to see her handiwork," Reede said.
"I had nothing to do with it!" she cried.
"Maybe not directly," Angus said sternly, "but this damn
fool investigation of yours put things in motion. We've been
fighting that loud-mouthed hellfire-and-damnation preacher
for years. He was just looking for an excuse to pull a malicious
stunt like this. You handed him a golden opportunity."
"I'm sorry if you see it that way, Angus."
The air was thick with tension. No one moved. Even the
housekeeper stopped washing empty coffee cups. Finally,
Junior stepped forward and took her arm. "Come on. It's
getting late."
"I'll take her back," Reede said curtly.
"I don't mind."
"I'm going anyway."
"You'll just harp on what happened here."
"What the hell do you care what I say to her?"
"All right then, you take her home," Junior said testily.
"You're the one who brought her, aren't you?" With that,
he turned and left the room.
"'Night, Reede, Alex." An unsmiling Angus followed his
son out.
Reede tossed the dregs of his coffee into the sink. "Come
on," he ordered her.
Retrieving her coat, she went outside with him and dejectedly
climbed into his truck. She wanted to say something
to break the dreadful silence, but couldn't bring herself to
utter a single word. Reede seemed disinclined to converse.
His eyes remained resolutely on the center stripe of the highway.
Finally, the growing knot of anxiety in her chest got to be
too much and she blurted out, "I had nothing to do with what
happened tonight."
He merely turned his head and looked at her, his expression
one of patent disbelief.
"I think Junior believes me," she cried defensively.
"What the hell does he know? You've dazzled him. He
took one look into those baby blues of yours and sank like
a rock. He's up to his ass in sentimental bullshit about you
being Celina's daughter. He remembers how he used to dote
on you and wants to do it again--only in an entirely different
way. The toy he wants to give you to play with now doesn't
rattle."
"You're disgusting."
"It must have given you a thrill to see us coming close to
blows over you."
She ground her teeth. "Think what you want to about my
designs on Junior and his on me, but I won't have you thinking
I was responsible for the damage done to his ranch tonight."
"You were responsible. You incited Plummet."
"Not intentionally. Plummet got it into his head that I was
an answer to his prayers--that God sent me to purge Purcell
of sinners, the Mintons, anyone connected to or a proponent
of pari-mutuel gambling."
"He's crazier than I thought."
She rubbed her upper arms as though recollections of Plummet
gave her chills. "You don't know the half of it. He says