Plummet closed his Bible with a resounding clap and stood up. He marched toward the door like a crusader dressed in full battle armor. He ignored his wife, who meekly trailed in his righteous wake.
The deprecations Reede muttered were vile and scathing. “Have somebody keep an eye on the house,” he told the deputy. “Let me know if anything he does looks suspicious or even slightly fishy. Damn, I hate to let that bastard walk out of here.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Alex said sympathetically. “You conducted a thorough interrogation, Reede. You knew going in you didn’t have any real evidence.”
He whirled on her, his eyes stormy. “Well, that sure as hell hasn’t ever stopped you, has it?” He stamped out, leaving her speechless with indignation.
Alex returned to her cubicle, fumbled for the key in the bottom of her handbag, and bent to unlock the door. She felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck that warned her a heartbeat before the sinister whisper reached her ears.
“You’ve been corrupted by the ungodly. You’re consorting with Satan, showing no more shame than a whore who sells herself.” She spun around. Plummet’s eyes had regained their zealous glint. Spittle had collected to form white foam in the corners of his mouth. His breathing was labored. “You betrayed my trust.”
“I didn’t ask for your trust,” Alex countered, her voice husky with alarm.
“Your heart and mind have been polluted by the ungodly. Your body has been tarnished by the stroke of the devil himself. You—”
He was caught from behind and slammed against the wall. “Plummet, I warned you.” Reede’s face was fierce. “Get out of my sight or you’re going to be spending some time in jail.”
“On what charge?” the preacher squealed. “You’ve got nothing to hold me on.”
“Accosting Miss Gaither.”
“I’m God’s messenger.”
“If God has anything to say to Miss Gaither, He’ll tell her Himself. Understand? Understand?” He shook Plummet again, then released him. He rounded on Mrs. Plummet, who had flattened herself against the wall in horrified silence. “Wanda, I’m warning you, take him home. Now!” the sheriff bellowed.
Demonstrating more courage than Alex would have expected from her, she grabbed her husband’s arm and virtually dragged him toward the staircase. Together, they stumbled up the steps and disappeared around the corner at the landing.
Alex didn’t realize how shaken she was until Reede’s eyes moved to the hand she had pressed against her pounding heart.
“Did he touch you, hurt you?”
“No.” Then, shaking her head, she repeated, “No.”
“Don’t bullshit me this time. Did he make any threats? Say anything I could use to nail his skinny ass?”
“No, just garbage about me selling out to the unrighteous. He considers me the traitor in the camp.”
“Get your things. You’re going home.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.”
He took her coat off the rack near the door. He didn’t hold it for her; in fact, he almost threw it at her, but Alex was touched by his evident concern for her safety. He pulled on his leather, fur-trimmed jacket and cowboy hat as they went upstairs and out the front door.
The Plummets must have taken his advice and left. They were nowhere around. Darkness had fallen. Most of the square was deserted. Even the B & B Café had closed for the night. It catered to the breakfast and lunch crowd.
Her car was cold when she slid beneath the steering wheel. “Start your motor to warm it up, but don’t leave till I come around in my truck. I’ll follow you to the motel.”
“That’s not necessary, Reede. As you said, he’s probably a coward. People who make threats rarely carry them out.”
“Yeah. Rarely,” he said, stressing the word.
“I can take care of myself. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I’m not. It’s me I’m worried about. You asked for trouble when you came here, and you’re getting it. But no female assistant D.A. is gonna get raped, maimed, or killed in my county. Got that?”
He slammed her car door. Alex watched him disappear down the dark sidewalk, wishing she’d never heard of him or his infernal county. She commissioned him to the fiery hell Plummet frequently expounded upon.
When she saw the headlights of the Blazer approaching, she backed her car into the street and aimed it in the direction of the motel that had been home for far too long. She resented being escorted home.