“ME encompasses a lot of companies. Just about anybody in the county could get access to one of those trucks.”
“Including you,” Alex suggested snidely.
Reede finally acknowledged her existence with a hard stare. The D.A. looked at them uneasily. “Uh, where were you, Reede? Nobody could find you.”
“I was out on horseback. Anybody at the ranch could tell you that.”
“I had to ask,” Pat said apologetically.
“I understand, but you ought to know that running somebody off the road isn’t quite my style. Besides me, who do you think could have done it?” he asked Alex pointedly.
It was difficult for her to even conceive of the idea, much less speak it aloud. “Junior,” she said quietly.
“Junior?” Reede laughed. “Why in hell?”
“I met with him this morning. He doesn’t have an alibi for the night Celina was killed. He admits he was terribly angry.” She glanced down. “I also have reason to believe he might be angry at me.”
“Why?”
She glared up at him with as much defiance as she could muster. “He came to my room this morning.” That’s all she was going to supply him. He could draw his own conclusions.
His eyes narrowed fractionally, but he didn’t ask what Junior had been doing in her room. Either he didn’t want to know, or he didn’t care. “Anybody else?” he asked. “Or have you narrowed it down to the two of us?”
“Possibly Angus. I saw him this afternoon, and we didn’t part on the best of terms.”
“The three of us again, huh? Do you believe we’re to blame for everything that happens around here?”
“I don’t believe anything. I base my suspicions on facts.” She was assailed by a wave of dizziness and nausea and had to close her eyes for a moment before going on. “I have another suspect in mind.”
“Who?”
“Stacey Wallace.”
Pat Chastain reacted like he’d been goosed. “Are you shittin’ me?” He glanced toward the door to make certain it was closed. “God, please tell me I’m dreaming. You aren’t going to publicly accuse her of anything, are you? Because if you’re even thinking about it, I have to tell you right now, Alex, that you’ll be on your own. I’m not sticking my neck out again.”
“You haven’t stuck your neck out for anything, yet!” Alex shouted, causing a blast of pain through her skull.
“Where would Stacey get access to an ME truck?” Reede asked.
“I don’t have any solid facts,” Alex said wearily. “It’s just a hunch.”
“Which is all you ever seem to have,” Reede said. Alex gave him a menacing look, which she hoped packed more punch than she felt it did.
Pat intervened. “About Stacey, what do you base your allegations on?”
“She lied to me about where she was on the night of the murder.” She related what Stacey had told her in the ladies’ room at the Horse and Gun Club. “I know she still loves Junior. I don’t think I’d get an argument from anyone on that.”
The two men exchanged a glance that signified agreement. “She’s like a mother hen to her father, and she doesn’t want his reputation ruined. And,” she added with a sigh, “she hates me for the same reason she hated Celina—Junior. She thinks I’m stealing his affection from her, just as my mother did.”
Pat jingled the change in his pockets as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Sounds logical when you put it that way, but I just can’t imagine Stacey using physical force.”
“And here lately, your guesses have been way off base, Counselor.”
Alex struggled to a sitting position. “Let’s go back to the scalpel.” She was so dizzy she had to grip the edge of the table to remain upright. “When did Reede ask you about it, Pat?”
“If you have something to ask, ask me.” Reede moved to stand directly in front of her. “I mentioned the scalpel to him a few days ago.”
“Why?”