Best Kept Secrets(89)

out of your father's bag."

"Conceivable, sure."

He admitted it with reluctance because it implicated the

men he worked for. Alex remembered how concerned he'd

been the night before, over Reede's racehorse. Ely Collins

was a friend to all three suspects. Alex had forced him to

divide his loyalties between his own integrity and the men

who made hand-tooled Lucchese boots affordable. The task

was unpalatable, but necessary.

She stood up to leave and extended the doctor her hand.

He shook it, and she said good-bye. "Oh, one more thing,

Dr. Collins. Would you mind if I looked at the scalpel?"

He was taken aback. "I wouldn't mind at all, if I had it."

"You don't?"

"No." ,

"Your mother?"

"She never got it back."

"Even after Gooney Bud was incarcerated?"

"She and Daddy didn't press too hard to get it back because

of what had happened with it."

"You mean, it's still floating around somewhere?"

"I don't know what happened to it."



The Minton ranch was a beehive of activity. Cleanup crews

4pae sorting through debris and hauling it away. Fire in-were

picking through the charred lumber and insulation,

searching for clues into the origin of the fire.

3 Around the house, a sandblasting crew was erasing the

apocalyptic messages spray-painted on the stone walls. The

window openings were being measured for replacement glass.

Reede was in the thick of it, serving in several capacities at

once. He was unshaven and unclean; he looked like he'd personally

sifted through soot and ash searching for clues. His

shirttail was out and unbuttoned; the sleeves had been rolled

up. He was hatless, but was wearing leather work gloves.

He spotted Alex as she alighted from her car, but before

he could speak, he was summoned by a fire inspector. "You

might want to take a look at this, Sheriff."

Reede made an about-face and walked toward barn number

two. Alex followed him. "A rock? What the hell does a rock

; have to do with the fire?" Reede was asking when she approached.

% The fireman scratched his head through his Houston Astros

baseball cap. "Looks to me like the fire was an accident.

What I mean is, whoever done all this was using something

, like a slingshot to knock out the windows and such."

"Like David going up against Goliath," Alex murmured.

Reede's lips narrowed as he nodded in agreement.

The fireman said, "My guess is that this-here rock went

flying, landed in one of the vents on the roof of the stable, and

shorted out some of the wiring. That's what caused your fire.''

"You don't think it was deliberately set?"

The investigator frowned. "Naw, I can't rightly say it looks

- that way. If I was gonna start a fire, I'd've pitched a Molotov

; cocktail or shot a flaming arrow." His frown reversed itself

into a silly grin. "I wouldn't've throwed no rock."

Reede bounced the heavy rock in his palm. "Thanks.''

I After the fireman ambled away, Reede said to Alex, "So

much for holding Plummet on an arson charge."



Because the day was unseasonably warm, Reede smelted

salty and sweaty, but it wasn't an offensive odor. In fact,

she liked it. His dense chest hair fanned out over the upper

part of his torso and funneled to a narrow line that disappeared

into his belt. Up close she could see that perspiration had

made it damp and curly. It whorled over the muscles and

around his nipples, which the cooling breeze had drawn erect.

Noticing that made her warm inside. She raised her eyes

to his face. A bead of sweat trickled from beneath his loose,

windblown hair and ran into his eyebrow. She curbed the

temptation to catch it on her fingertip. His day-old beard went

well with the grime and sweat on his face.

It was an effort for her to keep her mind on business.

"Have you arrested Plummet?"

"We tried," he said. "He's vanished."

"His family?"

"They're all at home, looking guilty as hell, but playing

dumb about the preacher's whereabouts. I'm not worried

about it. He won't go far. We'll run down the roster of his

congregation. Somebody's hiding him. He'll surface sooner

or later."

"When he does, I'd like to be mere when you question

him."

He tossed the rock to the ground. "What are you doing

here?"

"I came to have tea with Sarah Jo." In response to his

incredulous expression, she said, "Her idea, not mine."

"Well, have fun," he said sardonically. He turned his back

on her and sauntered toward the barn.

Angus was standing on the porch of the house, feet widespread,