“I’ve heard this speech before. Clear your stuff out of the bunkhouse and drop by the office at the end of the week. I’ll have
the bookkeeper draft you a check.”
“Angus—”
“Good-bye and good luck, Pasty.”
The old cowboy glanced plaintively at Junior, but knew before looking that there would be no help coming from that quarter. Junior kept his eyes lowered. Eventually Pasty left the room, tracking mud with each step.
When they heard the front door close, Junior got up and headed for the refrigerator built into the paneling. “I didn’t know you were going to fire him,” he said resentfully.
“No reason you should.”
He carried a beer to his father and twisted off the cap of another for himself. “Was it necessary? Couldn’t you have yelled at him some, taken away some of his responsibilities, docked his pay? For crissake, Dad, what’s an old guy like that gonna do?”
“He should have thought of that before he put the colt in that pasture. Now, let’s drop it. I didn’t enjoy doing it. He’s been around here a long time.”
“He made a mistake.”
“Worse, he got caught!” Angus shouted. “If you’re gonna run this business, boy, you gotta grow steel balls. The job isn’t always fun, you know. There’s more to it than taking clients out to fancy dinners and flirting with their wives and daughters.” Angus took a swig of beer. “Now, let’s talk about Celina’s girl.”
Junior, resigned to accepting Pasty’s harsh punishment, even if he didn’t agree with it, dropped into an easy chair and sipped at his bottle of beer. “She went to see Joe, huh?”
“Yeah, and notice that she didn’t waste any time doing it, either. Joe’s jittery as hell. He’s afraid his spotless tenure as judge is about to be flushed down the toilet.”
“What did Alexandra want with him?”
“She asked some questions about why he rushed up Gooney Bud’s incompetency hearing. Reede came to Joe’s rescue, which was a smart move on his part.”
“Reede?”
“Never asleep at the switch, is he?” Angus removed his boots and dropped them over the padded arm of his chair. They hit the floor with a heavy thud. He had gout, and his big toe was giving him trouble. He massaged it thoughtfully while looking at his son. “What did you think of the girl?”
“I tend to agree with Joe. She’s a threat. She thinks one of us killed Celina, and she’s bound and determined to find out who.”
“She struck me that way, too.”
“Of course, she’s got nothing on any of us.”
“Of course.”
Junior looked at his father warily. “She’s sharp.”
“As a tack.”
“And no slouch in the looks department.”
Father and son shared a bawdy laugh. “Yeah, she is good-lookin’,” Angus said. “But then, so was her mama.”
Junior’s smile faded. “Yes, she was.”
“Still miss her, don’t you?” Angus shrewdly studied his son.
“Sometimes.”
Angus sighed. “I don’t suppose you can lose a close friend like that without it having a lasting effect on you. You wouldn’t be human, otherwise. But it’s foolish of you to pine for a woman who’s been dead all these years.”
“I’ve hardly pined,” Junior countered. “Since the day I figured out how this operates,” he said, touching the fly of his pants, “it hasn’t gone inactive for long.”