“You look like you’ve swallowed a marble. Isn’t that what you expected to hear?”
“Is it true?” she asked hoarsely. “Did you kill her?”
He looked away, staring at nothing for several moments, then back into her eyes, penetrating them. “No, Alex. I did not kill Celina. If I had wanted to, I would have done it before that night, and with my bare hands. I would have felt that it was justifiable homicide. I wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of stealing a scalpel. I sure as hell wouldn’t have let that unfortunate retarded man take the rap for me.”
She stepped into the circle of his arms and hugged him tight. “I believe you, Reede.”
“Well, that’s something, I guess.” Holding her close, he moved his hands over her back. She nuzzled his chest.
He made a low sound of arousal, but set her away from him. “The coffee’s ready.”
“Don’t push me away, please. I’m not ready to stop hugging.”
“Neither am I,” he said, stroking her cheek, “but hugging isn’t all I want to do, and I have a strong feeling that our conversation isn’t going to be conducive to romance.” He poured two mugs of coffee and carried them to the table.
“Why do you say that?” She sat down across from him.
“Because you want to know if I know who went into the barn that night.”
“Do you?”
“No, I don’t,” he said with an emphatic shake of his head. “I swear to God I don’t.”
“But you know it was either Junior or Angus.”
He shrugged noncommittally.
“You’ve never wanted to know which, have you?”
“What difference does it make?”
She was aghast. “It makes a difference to me. It should to you.”
“Why? Knowing won’t change a damn thing. It won’t bring Celina back. It won’t alter your unhappy childhood or mine. Will it make your grandmother love you? No.”
Reading her horrified expression, he said, “Yes, Alex, I know that’s why you’ve appointed yourself Celina’s avenger. Merle Graham always had to have a scapegoat. Whenever Celina did something she considered wrong, I usually caught the blame for it. ‘That Lambert kid,’ she used to call me, always with a sour expression on her face.
“So it doesn’t surprise me that she laid a lifelong guilt trip on you. She wouldn’t take the blame for Celina’s mistakes upon herself. And she wouldn’t admit that Celina, like every other human being ever to grace this earth, did what she damn well pleased when she damned well felt like it, with or without motivation. That left you, the only real innocent in this whole goddamn affair, to place the blame on.”
He drew in a deep breath. “So, with all that in mind, what good can it possibly do anybody to know who killed her?”
“I’ve got to know, Reede,” she said, close to tears. “The murderer was also a thief. He robbed me. My mother would have loved me if she had lived. I know she would have.”
“For crissake, she didn’t even want you, Alex,” he shouted. “No more than my mother wanted me. I didn’t go on any quests after her.”
“Because you’re afraid to,” she yelled back.
“Afraid?”
“Afraid of being hurt by what you find out.”
“Not afraid,” he said. “Indifferent.”
“Well, I’m not, thank God. I’m not as cold and unfeeling as you.”
“You thought I was hot enough last night,” he sneered. “Or did you stay a technical virgin this long by going down on all your dates?”
She flinched as if he’d struck her. Hurt beyond belief, she stared at him across the table. His expression was closed and hostile, but her vulnerability defeated him. He muttered a string of swear words and dug into his eye sockets with his thumb and middle finger.