It was time to end the discussion, before it got sloppily maudlin. Reede socked Junior’s shoulder, then headed for the door. “Don’t go selling that dope to schoolkids or I’ll have to haul you in, okay?” He had opened the doo
r and was on his way out before Junior halted him.
“I was mad as hell the other day when you showed up at the country club to pick up Alex.”
“I know. It couldn’t be helped. It was business.”
“Was it? What about the airfield? Was that business, too? That wasn’t Dad’s impression.”
Reede remained stonily silent, neither admitting or denying anything.
“Jesus,” Junior breathed, drawing his hand down his face. “Is it happening again? Are we falling in love with the same woman?”
Reede walked out, quietly closing the door behind him.
Chapter 40
Stacey Wallace slid her father’s half-eaten tuna salad out of the way and replaced it with a bowl of fruit cocktail. “I don’t think we’ll have her to worry about much longer,” she said with assurance. The topic of conversation was Alexandra Gaither. “Did you hear about her accident?”
“From what I understand, it wasn’t an accident.”
“All the more reason for her to want to leave town.”
“Angus doesn’t think she’s going to leave,” the judge said as he toyed with the cherry floating in the viscous syrup. “He says she’s convinced somebody wanted to scare her into leaving before she exposed the killer.”
“Do you take everything Angus says as carved in granite?” Stacey asked with exasperation. “How does he know what she’s going to do?”
“He’s going by what she told Junior.”
Stacey laid her fork aside. “Junior?”
“Hmm.” Judge Wallace sipped his iced tea. “He sat with her yesterday.”
“I thought she left the hospital and was back at her motel.”
“Wherever she is, Junior’s been her only contact with the outside world.” The judge was so caught up in his own worries, he didn’t notice Stacey’s suddenly preoccupied gaze.
He pushed away from the table. “I’d better go or I’ll be late. We’ve got a jury selection this morning and a pretrial hearing for that character who shot a man out at Nora Gail Burton’s the other night. I’m expecting a plea bargain, but Lambert’s got Pat Chastain pushing for attempted murder.”
Stacey was only half listening. Her mind had lodged on a mental picture of the beautiful Alex Gaither languishing on her motel room bed while Junior waited on her hand and foot.
“By the way,” the judge said as he pulled on his overcoat, “did you get that message I left you yesterday?”
“To call Fergus Plummet?”
“Yes. Isn’t he that evangelical preacher who raised Cain because they had bingo at the Halloween carnival last year? What’d he want with you?”
“He’s canvassing support to keep pari-mutuel gambling out of Purcell County.”
The judge snickered. “Does he know he’d just as well try and hold back our next dust storm?”
“That’s what I told him when I returned his call,” Stacey said. “He knows I belong to several women’s organizations and wanted me to plead his case with them. I declined, of course.”
Joe Wallace picked up his briefcase and opened the front door. “Reede is convinced that Plummet was responsible for that vandalism out at the Minton ranch, but he’s got no evidence to hold him.” The judge didn’t think twice about discussing cases with Stacey. She had earned his confidence years ago. “I don’t think Plummet has the sense to pull off something like that, not without somebody directing him. Reede has been harping on it, but right now, Plummet is the least of my worries.”
Concerned, Stacey caught her father’s arm. “What worries, Dad? Alex Gaither? Don’t worry about her. What harm could she possibly do you?”
He faked a smile. “Absolutely none. You just know how I like things neat and tidy. I’ve got to run. Good-bye.”