Best Kept Secrets (32 page)

over Greg's summons.

She had never checked the date on her parents' marriage license. It wouldn't necessarily be conclusive, anyway. As an attorney, she knew that dates, even on so-called legal documents, could be falsified. The way everyone had reacted to Sarah Jo's revelation, she knew it was true. She had been conceived illegitimately.

"You should have been there, Sheriff. I made a spectacle of myself. You would have been thoroughly entertained."

Her flippancy didn't improve his mood. "Why'd you take your phone off the hook?"

"To get some rest. What did you think, that I took an overdose of sleeping pills or gave my wrists a close shave?"

He gave the sarcastic question credence. "Maybe."

"Then, you don't know me very well," she told him angrily.

"I don't give in that easily. And I'm not ashamed that my parents had to get married."

"I didn't say you were or that you should be."

"That was their mistake. It has nothing to do with me as a person, okay?"

"Okay."

"So stop thinking . . . Oh, hell, I don't care what you're thinking," she said, rubbing her temples. She was more annoyed with herself than with him. Lashing out was only an indication of how upset she really was.' 'I need your help, Reede.''

"What kind of help?"

"Can you fly me to Austin?"

The request took him by surprise. He pulled himself upright from where he had complacently slouched against the framework of the recently repaired doorway.

"Fly you to Austin? Why?"

"Business with Greg Harper. I need to be there at ten o'clock in the morning for a meeting."

Twenty-seven

They were in the air less than an hour later, on a southeasterly course toward the state capital. Alex had used a quarter of that hour to get herself looking human again. She had washed her face in cold water, applied fresh makeup, brushed her hair, and changed into a pair of wool slacks and a sweater.

Whatever she wore to the meeting in the morning could come out of her closet at home.

On the way to Purcell's municipal airfield, Reede stopped at a hamburger joint and picked up the order he'd phoned ahead for. There was a single-engine Cessna waiting for them on the tarmac when they arrived at the landing strip. The sheriff knew how to pull strings.

Purcell was no more than a patch of glittering light on the black carpet beneath them before she thought to ask, "Does this plane belong to you?"

"Minton Enterprises. Angus gave me permission to use it.

Pass me one of those cheeseburgers."

She devoured almost half of hers--Sarah Jo's cucumber sandwich hadn't gone far--before she came up for air.

"When did you learn to fly?"

Reede munched a french fry. "I was about eight."

"Eight!"

"I had salvaged an old beat-up bike from a junkyard and repaired it well enough to get around on. I pedaled out to the airfield every chance I got."

"It must be three miles from town," she exclaimed.

"I didn't care. I'd have gone twice that far. The planes intrigued me. The old guy who ran the place was as testy as a rattlesnake, a real loner, but he kept a strawberry soda pop waiting for me in his ancient icebox. I guess I pestered the snot out of him, but he didn't seem to mind all my questions.

One day, he looked over at me and said, 'I gotta check out this plane. Wanna go along for the ride?' I nearly peed my pants."

Reede probably didn't realize that he was smiling over the happy memory. Alex remained silent so he wouldn't be reminded that she was there. She enjoyed his smile. It attractively emphasized the fine lines at the outer corners of his eyes and those around his mouth.

"God, it was great," he said, as though he could feel the surge of pleasure again. "I hadn't discovered sex yet, so flying was the best thing that had happened to me. From up there, everything looked so peaceful, so clean."

An escape from the awful realities of his childhood, Alex thought compassionately. She wanted to touch him, but didn't dare. She was about to venture down a rocky, hazardous path. One wrong word or turn of phrase would spell doom, so she felt her way carefully.

Quietly, she asked, "Reede, why didn't you tell me that my mother was pregnant when she came back from El Paso?"

"Because it doesn't make any difference."

"Not now, but it did twenty-five years ago. She didn't want to marry my father. She had to."

' 'Now that you know, what does it change? Not a goddamn thing."

"Perhaps," she replied uncertainly. After another brief silence, she said, "I was the quarrel, wasn't I?"

He looked at her sharply. "What?"

Letting her head fall back on the headrest, she sighed. "I wondered why the two of you didn't kiss and make up when she got back that summer. Knowing how much and how long you had cared for each other, I wondered what could possibly keep you apart after a silly lovers' spat. Now, I know. It wasn't silly. It was more than a spat. It was me. I kept you apart. I was the quarrel."

"It wasn't you."

"It was."

Grandma Graham had said it was her fault that Celina had been killed. Everything Alex uncovered was bearing that out.

Had Celina, by having another man's child, driven her passionate, jealous, possessive lover to kill her?

"Reede, did you murder my mother because of me?"

"Damn," he swore viciously. "I could strangle Sarah Jo for telling you about that. My quarrel with Celina wasn't over you--not originally, anyway."

"Then, what?"

"Sex!" Swiveling his head around, he glared at her.

"Okay?"

"Sex?"

"Yeah, sex."

"You were pressuring her to and she wouldn't?"

His jaw tensed. ' 'It was the other way around, Counselor.''

"What?" Alex exclaimed. "You expect me to believe--"

"I don't give a rat's ass what you believe. It's the truth.

Celina wanted to get a head start on our future, and I wouldn't."

"Next, you're going to tell me that you had an unselfish, noble reason," Alex said, tongue-in-cheek. "Right?"

"My own parents," he said without inflection. "My old man got my mother pregnant when she was barely fifteen.

They had to get married. Look how great that turned out. I wouldn't take a chance on the same thing happening to Celina and me."

Alex's heart was thudding with gladness, disbelief and emotions that were too complex to examine. "You mean that you never--"

"No. We never."

She believed him. There was no mendacity in his expression, only bitterness, and perhaps a trace of regret. "Hadn't you heard of birth control?"

"I used rubbers with other girls, but--"

"So there were others?"

"I'm not a monk, for crissake. The Gail sisters," he said with a shrug, "lots of others. There were always willing girls

available."

"Especially to you." He shot her a hard look. "Why weren't you concerned that you'd impregnate one of them?"

"They all slept around. I would be one of many."

"But Celina would have slept only with you."

"That's right."

"Until she went to El Paso and met Al Gaither," Alex mused out loud. "He was just a means to make you jealous, wasn't he?" On a humorless laugh, she added, "She overshot her mark and manufactured me."

They lapsed into silence. Alex didn't even notice. She was lost in her turbulent thoughts about her mother, Reede, and their unconsummated love affair.

"It's really beautiful up here at night, isn't it?" she said dreamily, unaware that almost half an hour had passed since they had last spoke.

"I thought you'd fallen asleep."

"No." She watched a bank of clouds drift between them and the moon. "Did you ever take my mother flying?"

"A few times."

"At night?"

He hesitated. ' 'Once.''

"Did she like it?"

"She was scared, as I recall."

"They gave her hell, didn't they?"

"Who?"

"Everybody. When word got out that Celina Graham was pregnant, I'll bet the gossip spread like wildfire."

"You know how it is in a small town."

"I kept her from graduating high school."

"Look, Alex, you didn't keep her from doing anything,"

he argued angrily. "All right, she made a mistake. She got too hot with a soldier boy, or he took advantage of her.

However the hell it happened, it happened."

With the edge of his hand, he chopped the air between them in a gesture of finality. "You didn't have anything to do with the act or the consequences of it. You said so yourself, just a few hours ago. Remember?"

"I'm not condemning my mother or stigmatizing myself, Reede. I feel sorry for her. She couldn't attend school, even though she was legally married."

Alex wrapped her arms around her sides, giving herself a huge hug. "I think she was a very special lady. She could have given me up for adoption, but she didn't. Even after my father was killed, she kept me with her. She loved me and was willing to make tremendous sacrifices for me.

"She had the courage to carry me in a town where everybody was talking about her. Don't bother denying it. I know they did. She was popular; she fell from grace. Anyone harboring malice toward her was delighted. That's human nature."

"If they were, they didn't dare show it."

"Because you were still her knight, weren't you?"

"Junior and me."

"You closed ranks around her."

"I guess you could put it like that."

"Your friendship probably meant more to her then than at any other time." He gave a noncommittal lift of his shoulders.

She studied his profile for a moment. The rocky path had led her to the cliff, and she was about to take the plunge.

"Reede, if Celina hadn't died, would you have gotten married?"

"No."

He answered without a second's hesitation. Alex was surprised.

She didn't quite believe him. "Why not?"

"Lots of reasons, but essentially, because of Junior."

She hadn't expected that. "What about him?"

"While Celina was pregnant, they became very close. He just about had her talked into marrying him when she . . .

died."

"Do you think she would have, eventually?"

"I don't know." He slid Alex a sardonic glance. "Junior's quite a ladies' man. He can be very persuasive."

"Look, Reede, I told Sarah Jo, now I'm telling you, that--"

"Shh! They're passing us off to Austin radar." He spoke into the headset. When the formalities had been dispensed with, he coaxed someone in the airport tower to arrange a rental car for him. By the time he had gone through that procedure, they were approaching the lighted runway.

"Buckled up?"

"Yes."

He executed a flawless landing. Alex thought later that she must have been in a daze, because she barely remembered getting from the plane to the rented car. Without having to concentrate, she gave Reede directions to her condo.

It was located in a fashionable, yuppie neighborhood where Evian was the drink of preference, every kitchen had a wok, and membership in a health club was as mandatory as a driver's license.

A line of thunderstorms hadn't hampered their flight, but had moved in over the city by the time they reached her street. Raindrops began to splatter the windshield. Thunder rumbled.

"The one with all the newspapers scattered in the yard,"

Alex told him.

"You're a public prosecutor. Don't you know better than to advertise to thieves that you're out of town? Or is that your way of drumming up business?"

"I forgot to stop delivery."

He pulled to the curb, but he didn't turn off the motor.

Several days ago, Alex would have been jubilant at the thought of returning home, just for a temporary respite from the Westerner Motel, but as she looked at the front door now, she felt no enthusiasm for going inside. The tears that clouded her vision weren't tears of joy.

"I've been gone for almost three weeks."

"Then I'd better Walk up with you." He turned off the ignition and got out, impervious to the rain. He walked with her up the sidewalk, picking up the outdated newspapers as he went. He tossed them into a corner of her covered porch as she unlocked the door. "Don't forget to throw those papers away tomorrow," he said.

"No, I won't." She reached inside and cut off her alarm system, which had begun to hum the moment she opened the door. "I guess that means it's safe inside."

"Do you want to meet at the airport tomorrow, or what?"

"Uh . . ." She couldn't think beyond him driving away, leaving her alone in her condo. "I hadn't thought about it."

"I'll drop by the D.A.'s office around noon and ask for you. How's that?"

"Fine. I should be finished by then."

"Okay, see ya." He turned to leave.

"Reede." Instinctively she reached for him, but when he turned, she pulled her hand back. "Would you like some coffee before you go?"

"No, thanks."

"Where are you going now?"

"I won't know till I get there."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Messing around."

"Oh, well ..."

"You'd better get inside."

"I haven't paid you yet."

"For what?"

"The plane, your time."

"No charge."

"I insist."

He cursed. "The one thing I'm not going to argue with you about is money. Got that? Now, good night."

He turned and took two long strides before she called his name again. When he came back around, his eyes bore into hers. "I don't want to be alone tonight," she admitted in a rush.

Even with all the crying she'd done that afternoon, her supply of tears hadn't been exhausted. They began to roll down her cheeks as steadily as the rainfall. "Please don't go,

Reede. Stay with me."

He moved back beneath the overhang, but his hair and shoulders were already damp. Placing his hands on his hips, he demanded, "Why?"

"I just told you why."

"You've got to have a better reason than that, or you wouldn't have asked."

"All right," she shouted up at him, "I feel like crap. Is that reason enough?"