“They’re all out, Sheriff. All except the Jeep.”
“That’ll do. Just get it here.”
Chapter 45
Stacey Wallace Minton shocked her friends by walking into the living room fully dressed, dry-eyed, and seemingly composed. They had been speaking in hushed tones in deference to her suffering. They had believed that she was getting some much-needed rest in preparation for the ordeal facing her.
Tupperware and Pyrex dishes, filled with salads and casseroles and desserts, had been delivered to the house by a steady stream of concerned acquaintances. Without exception, all had asked, “How’s she taking it?”
By all appearances, Stacey was taking her father’s death very well. As always, she was impeccably dressed and groomed. Except for the grayish circles beneath her eyes, she could have been on her way to a club meeting.
“Stacey, did we wake you? We put a note on the door, asking people to knock instead of ringing the bell.”
“I’ve been awake for a while,” she told her friends. “What time did Junior leave?”
“Sometime during the night. Would you like something to eat? Lordy, there’s enough food in there to feed an army.”
“No, thank you, nothing right now.”
“Mr. Davis called. He needs to discuss the funeral arrangements with you, but said that could be at your convenience.”
“I’ll contact him later this morning.”
As her friends watched in stupefaction, she went to the hall closet and took out her coat. They exchanged concerned and bewildered glances.
“Stacey, dear, where are you going?”
“Out.”
“We’ll be glad to run errands for you. That’s what we’re here for.”
“I appreciate the offer, but this is something I’ve got to do myself.”
“What are we supposed to tell people when they drop by to see you?” one asked, anxiously following her to the front door.
Stacey turned and calmly replied, “Tell them whatever you like.”
Angus didn’t seem surprised to see Alex when she walked into his den unannounced. He was seated on the leather sofa, massaging the toe that continued to give him pain. “I didn’t hear you come in,” he said. “I just got in from the stables myself. We’ve got a two-year-old gelding with shin bucks, which can’t be a damn bit more painful than gout.”
“Lupe told me you were back here.”
“Do you want some breakfast? Coffee?”
“No, thank you, Angus.” Hospitable to the bitter end, Alex thought. “Is this a convenient time for us to talk?”
He laughed. “As convenient a time as any, I reckon, considering what we’re going to talk about.” She sat down beside him on the sofa. He studied her with shrewd blue eyes. “Did Joe spill his guts before he killed himself?”
“He didn’t invite me to his office to take a confession, if that’s what you mean,” she answered, “but I know about your deal with him. How did you talk Junior into going along with it, Angus?”
“At that point in time,” he said, making no effort to deny her allegations, “the boy didn’t care about what happened to him. Celina’s death hit him so hard, he was married to Joe’s girl almost before he realized it. Know what? I’m not sure he could have made it those first few months if Stacey hadn’t taken such good care of him. I never regretted making that deal with Joe.”
“Who were you protecting?”
Changing the subject abruptly, he said, “You look a little worse for wear this morning. Did Reede ride you that hard last night?”
Embarrassed, Alex ducked her head. “Junior told you?”
“Yes.” He pulled on his boot, wincing as he worked the sore toe into it. “Can’t say that I’m surprised—disappointed, but not surprised.”