“Miss Gaither.” He rose partially from his chair and slapped the top of his desk. He was angry, but he also felt naked and vulnerable. The soft knock on his door was a godsend. “Yes?”
Sheriff Lambert strolled in.
“Reede!” Alex wouldn’t have been surprised if the judge had rushed across the room and embraced him. He seemed that glad to see him. “Come in.”
“Mrs. Lipscomb said you weren’t to be disturbed, but when she told me who was with you, I convinced her that I might be of service.”
“To whom?” Alex asked tartly.
Reede sauntered to the chair next to hers and dropped into it. Insolent green eyes moved over her. “To anybody who needs servicing.”
Alex chose to ignore the double entendre and hoped he would ignore the mounting color in her face. She directed her attention to the judge.
“Miss Gaither was curious to know why I ruled Mr. Hicks incompetent to stand trial. Since she didn’t know him, she can’t appreciate how easily he fit the criteria of being unable to understand the charges against him and assist in his own defense.”
“Thank you, Judge Wallace,” she said, seething, “but I know the criteria. What I don’t know is why you made the ru
ling so hastily.”
“I saw no need for a postponement,” the judge replied, obviously more at ease now that Reede was there. “I told you earlier that most people in town merely tolerated Hicks. Your mother, to her credit, was kind to him. Gooney Bud latched on to her, in a pathetic way. I’m sure he was often a nuisance, the way he followed her around like a devoted little puppy. Right, Reede?”
The sheriff nodded. “Celina wouldn’t let anybody pick on him when she was around. He used to give her presents, you know, mesquite beans, rocks, stuff like that. She always thanked him like he’d given her the crown jewels.”
“I figure that Gooney Bud mistook her kindness for a deeper emotion,” Judge Wallace said. “He followed her into the Mintons’ stables that night and, uh, tried to force his attentions on her.”
“Rape her?” Alex asked bluntly.
“Well, yes,” the judge said, flustered. “And when she rebuffed him, he couldn’t handle the rejection, and…”
“Stabbed her thirty times,” Alex supplied.
“You force me to be insensitive, Miss Gaither.” Joe Wallace looked at her reproachfully.
Alex crossed her legs. Her stockings made a slippery, silky sound that drew the sheriff’s attention to them. She caught him staring at her hemline, but tried not to let it bother her as she continued to question the jittery judge.
“Let me make sure I understand. It’s your contention that the murder wasn’t premeditated, but a crime of passion?”
“As you said, it’s conjecture.”
“Okay, but for the sake of argument, let’s say that’s the way it was. If Bud Hicks was acting out of extreme provocation, outrage, uncontrollable lust, wouldn’t he have utilized a pitchfork, or a rake, or something else that was handy? What was he doing with a scalpel if he didn’t enter that stable with the intention of killing her?”
“That’s easy,” Reede said. Alex looked at him sharply. “A mare had foaled that day. It was a difficult birth. We called the vet in to assist.”
“How? Did he have to do an episiotomy?” she asked.
“In the long run, no. We were finally able to pull the foal. But Doc Collins’s bag was right there. The scalpel could have fallen out. I’m guessing, of course, but it’s logical to assume that Gooney Bud saw it and picked it up.”
“That’s a very broad assumption, Sheriff Lambert.”
“Not so broad. As I’ve told you, Gooney Bud collected all kinds of stuff like that.”
“He’s right, Miss Gaither,” Judge Wallace hastened to say. “Ask anybody. Something as shiny as a surgical instrument would have attracted his attention the moment he went into the stable.”
“Was he in the stable that day?” she asked Reede.
“Yes. There were people coming and going all day, Gooney Bud among them.”
Alex wisely decided that it was time to retreat and regroup. She gave the judge a peremptory thank-you and left the chambers. The sheriff followed her out. As soon as they’d cleared the anteroom, she turned to confront him.