“Okay, then leave Pat to me.”
“Angus,” she said loudly, “you’re missing my point.” When she was assured she had his attention, she said, “As strongly as you believe in your racetrack, I believe that my mother’s murder case was mishandled. I intend to see that rectified.”
“Even though the future of a whole town is at stake?”
“Come on,” she cried in protest. “You make it sound like I’m taking bread from starving children.”
“Not as bad as that, but still—”
“My future is at stake, too. I can’t go on with the rest of it until the case is resolved to my satisfaction.”
“Yes, but—”
“Hey, time out.” Junior opened the door suddenly and poked his head inside. “I’ve had a great idea, Alex. Why don’t you stay for supper?”
“Damn you, Junior,” Angus thundered, pounding the arm of his chair with his fist. “You wouldn’t recognize a business discussion if it bit you in the ass. We’re talking seriously here. Don’t ever interrupt me when I’m in a private conference again. You know better than that.”
Junior swallowed visibly. “I didn’t know your conversation was so private or so serious.”
“Well, you damned well should have, shouldn’t you? For crissake, we were—”
“Angus, please, it’s all right,” Alex said quickly. “Actually, I’m glad Junior interrupted. I just now noticed how late it is. I need to be going.”
She couldn’t stand to watch a grown man get a dressing down from his father, especially in front of a female guest. She was embarrassed for both of them.
Most of the time, Angus was a good ole boy. But not always. He had an explosive temper when crossed. Alex had just witnessed how short his fuse was and just how slight a transgression it took to ignite it.
“I’ll see you out,” Junior offered woodenly.
She shook hands with Angus. “Thank you for showing me the model. Nothing you’ve said has diverted me, but you’ve clarified some things. I’ll keep them in mind as I pursue the case.”
“You can trust us, you know. We’re not killers.”
Junior walked her to the front door. After he had held her coat for her, she turned to face him. “I’ll be in touch, Junior.”
“I certainly hope so.” He bent over her hand and kissed it, then turned her palm up and kissed it, too.
She took it back quickly. “Do you flirt like this with every woman you meet?”
“Just about.” He flashed her an unrepentant grin. “Are you susceptible?”
“Not in the least.”
His grin widened, indicating to her that he wasn’t convinced and knew that she wasn’t either. After saying another quick good night, she left.
Her car was cold. She shivered inside her coat. As she drove down the private road toward the highway, she noticed the outbuildings on either side of it. Most were stables. There was a faint light burning inside one of them. Reede’s Blazer was parked at the door. On impulse, Alex pulled up beside it and got out.
Sarah Jo’s bedroom in Kentucky had been duplicated at her Texas home, down to the silk cord tiebacks on the drapes. When the house had been built, she had agreed to let Angus have his heavy, dark furniture, his red leather upholstery, and his hunting trophies in other rooms, but she had flatly refused to let his revolting frontier motif defile their bedroom.
Cheerfully, he had agreed. He liked her fussy, feminine, frilly things around him at night. He’d often told her that if he’d wanted to marry a cowgirl, he wouldn’t have had to go all the way to Kentucky to find one.
“Mother, may I come in?” Junior opened the bedroom door after a tentative knock.
“Darling, please do.” Sarah Jo smiled, evidently quite pleased over her son’s visit.
Junior found her propped up on a mountain of satin pillows, wearing a lace night jacket, smelling of expensive face cream, and reading the biography of some foreign statesman of whom he’d never heard. He’d never even heard of the country from which the man hailed. Probably no one except his mother had.
She took off her reading glasses, laid the book aside, and patted the quilted satin comforter. With a brisk shake of his head, Junior declined to sit down. Instead he remained standing at the foot of the bed, hands in pockets, jingling change, resenting this nightly ritual that was a carryover from his childhood.