“I’ll pay my own expenses,” she said. “Consider this my vacation.”
“In that case, I couldn’t sanction anything you did out there. You’d no longer have the protection of this office.”
“Okay, fine.”
He shook his head stubbornly. “I wouldn’t let you do that, any more than I’d let my teenage daughter go on a date without a rubber in her purse.”
“Greg, please.”
“Jesus, you’re a stubborn broad.” He withdrew a cigarette from the pack, but didn’t light it. “You know the one thing that intrigues me about this case? The judge. If he turned out to be as crooked as a dog’s hind leg, it’d really get our governor’s goat.”
“You’re mixing metaphors.”
“What have you got on him?”
“Nothing more solid than dislike. He’s a persnickety little man, nervous and shifty-eyed.” She thought a moment. “There is something that struck me as odd, though.”
“Well?” he asked, sitting forward.
“Stacey, his daughter, married Junior Minton weeks after Celina’s death.”
“Unless they’re brother and sister, that wasn’t illegal.”
She shot him a sharp look. “Stacey’s not… well, not Junior’s type, you know? She still loves him.” She recounted the incident in the powder room at the Horse and Gun Club. “Junior’s very attractive. Stacey isn’t the kind of woman he would marry.”
“Maybe she’s got a golden pussy.”
“I’ll admit, I never thought of that,” Alex said dryly. “He didn’t have to marry her to sleep with her. So why did he, unless there was a very good reason? In addition to that, Stacey lied to me. She said she was home unpacking after a trip to Galveston, but failed to mention she’d been in the stable that day.”
Greg gnawed on his lower lip, then poked the cigarette in his mouth and flicked the lighter at it. “It’s still too weak, Alex.” He exhaled. “I’ve got to go with my gut instincts and call you off.”
They stared at each other a moment, then she calmly opened her handbag and withdrew two plain white envelopes. She pushed them toward him. “What’s this?”
“My letter of resignation, and a letter of intent to file a civil suit against the Mintons and Reede Lambert.”
He almost swallowed his cigarette. “What? You can’t.”
“I can. I will. There’s enough evidence to bring a civil suit against them for the murder of my mother. I’ll sue them for so much money in damages that opening a racetrack will be out of the question. Reede Lambert’s career will be shot to hell, too. They won’t go to jail, but they’ll be ruined.”
“If you win.”
“It won’t matter if I do or not. In a civil suit, they can’t plead the Fifth to avoid incrimination. No matter what they say, everyone will presume they’re lying. The racing commission would have no choice but to reverse its decision and revoke the gambling license.”
“So, what this all boils down to is money?” he cried. “Is that what you’ve been after all along?”
Her pale cheeks sprouted dots of color. “It’s beneath even you to say something like that to me. I demand your apology.”
Greg muttered a string of oaths. “Okay, I’m sorry. But, you mean this, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do.”
He deliberated for a full minute longer before grumbling, “I ought to have my head examined.” Pointing a stern finger at her, he said, “Stay the hell out of trouble. Make sure you’ve loaded both barrels before you go after somebody, particularly Wallace. If you screw up and I get my ass chewed on, I’ll claim you were a naughty girl and that I had nothing to do with your actions. And, your original deadline sticks. Got that?”
“Got it,” she said, coming to her feet. “You’ll be hearing from me as soon as I know something.”
“Alex?” She was already at the door. When she looked back at him, he asked, “What’s going on with you?”
“What do you mean?”