“No, thank you. I need to speak with him personally.”
“Excuse me, ma’am, but is this Ms. Gaither?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Where are you?”
“In my motel room. Why?”
“That’s where Reede’s headed. He should be there by now.” Then he paused and asked, “Say, are you all right?”
“Of course I’m all right. I think I hear the sheriff pulling up now. Thank you.” Alex hung up and moved to the window in time to see Reede get out of his truck and rush toward her door.
She flung it open. He drew up abruptly, almost losing his balance. “Please don’t kick it in again.”
“Don’t be cute with me,” he said, glowering darkly. “What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Like hell.” He gestured toward the bedside telephone. Its innocence seemed to provoke him further. He pointed toward it accusingly. “I’ve been calling for hours, and all I got is a busy signal.”
“I took it off the hook. What was so important?”
“I heard what happened this afternoon between you and Sarah Jo.”
Her shoulders dropped dejectedly and she released a long breath. She had almost forgotten about that in her perplexity over Greg’s summons.
She had never checked the date on her parents’ marriage license. It wouldn’t necessarily be conclusive, anyway. As an attorney, she knew that dates, even on so-called legal documents, could be falsified. The way everyone had reacted to Sarah Jo’s revelation, she knew it was true. She had been conceived illegitimately.
“You should have been there, Sheriff. I made a spectacle of myself. You would have been thoroughly entertained.”
Her flippancy didn’t improve his mood. “Why’d you take your phone off the hook?”
“To get some rest. What did you think, that I took an overdose of sleeping pills or gave my wrists a close shave?”
He gave the sarcastic question credence. “Maybe.”
“Then, you don’t know me very well,” she told him angrily. “I don’t give in that easily. And I’m not ashamed that my parents had to get married.”
“I didn’t say you were or that you should be.”
“That was their mistake. It has nothing to do with me as a person, okay?”
“Okay.”
“So stop thinking… Oh, hell, I don’t care what you’re thinking,” she said, rubbing her temples. She was more annoyed with herself than with him. Lashing out was only an indication of how upset she really was. “I need your help, Reede.”
“What kind of help?”
“Can you fly me to Austin?”
The request took him by surprise. He pulled himself upright from where he had complacently slouched against the framework of the recently repaired doorway.
“Fly you to Austin? Why?”
“Business with Greg Harper. I need to be there at ten o’clock in the morning for a meeting.”
Chapter 27