“You loved it.” Alex’s nerves were already frayed, so it annoyed her even more that he was shifting all the blame to her. “You thought it might embarrass the governor, and you relished that thought.”
He braced his arms on his desk and leaned over it. “You said you were going out there to reopen your mother’s murder case. I didn’t know you were going to get a loony preacher whipped into a frenzy, a man’s barn nearly burned down, a valuable racehorse shot in the head, and offend a respected judge, who has a reputation as spotless as God’s.”
“Wallace?”
“Wallace. Apparently, he called our esteemed governor and complained about your unprofessional conduct, your handling of the case, and your unfounded accusations.” He sucked smoke into his lungs and blew it out in a gust. “Shall I go on?”
“Please,” she said wearily, knowing he would anyway.
“Okay. Chastain’s scared shitless of Wallace.”
“Chastain’s scared shitless of his own shadow. He won’t even return my calls.”
“He’s disclaimed you, washed his hands cleaner of you than Ivory soap could have done. He says you’ve been seen partying with your suspects.”
“ ‘Partying’? I’ve seen them on a few social occasions.”
“Dangerous business, Alex. We’ve got three gentlemen suspects and one lady prosecutor whose association with each goes way back. It’s all as murky as filé gumbo.”
She tried not to squirm under his incisive stare. “New tack.” Standing, she circled her chair. “This is an unsolved murder case. The investigation is viable, no matter who conducts it.”
“Okay,” he said complacently, folding his hands behind his head and leaning his chair back, “I’ll play. What have you got? No body to dig up. No murder weapon. No—”
“It was lifted out of the vet’s bag.”
“What?”
“The murder weapon.” She told him what Dr. Ely Collins had told her. “The scalpel was never returned to the elder Dr. Collins. I’ve been meaning to check the evidence room on the outside chance that it’s still there, but I doubt that it is.”
“So do I. The bottom line is that you’ve still got no weapon. Has an eyewitness come forward?”
She sighed. “During this telephone call, did the governor mention a ranch hand named Pasty Hickam?”
“So, it’s true.”
“It’s true. And please don’t insult me by trying to trap me like that again. I was going to tell you.”
“When? When were you going to slip it into the conversation that a representative of this office got involved with a cowboy who turned up dead?”
“Care to hear my side of it?” She told him about Pasty. He was frowning more than ever when she finished. “If you’re right, not only is it stupid and politically imprudent to continue this investigation, it’s dangerous. I don’t suppose anyone’s confessed.”
She made a face at him. “No. But one of them killed Celina, and probably Hickam.”
Cursing, he mashed out his cigarette. “Let’s stick to one murder at a time. If you had to arrest one of them tomorrow for killing your mother, who would it be?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Why would the old man have iced her?”
“Angus is cantankerous and shrewd. He wields a lot of power, and definitely enjoys being the boss.”
“You’re smiling.”
“He’s extremely likeable, I’ll admit.” She kept Angus’s comment about having a daughter like her t
o herself. “He’s inordinately rough on Junior. But, a slasher?” she asked rhetorically, shaking her head. “I don’t think so. It’s not his style. Besides, Angus didn’t have a motive.”
“What about Junior?”