And that broke her heart.
Chapter 15
She’d had every opportunity to be mugged, raped, or murdered, or any combination thereof, in the Last Chance. Not to mention the chances she’d taken on the roads there and back. Luckily, she had left unscathed, except for her riled temper.
Entering her motel room, Alex slung her handbag and coat in the chair, furious with herself for chasing after what was obviously a red herring. Greg Harper would have a field day if he ever found out she’d been so gullible.
That afternoon, she had called him. He wasn’t impressed with her findings so far, and made another pitch for her to return to Austin and reconcile herself to the past. She had held him to the time he’d allotted her.
His disfavor with her lack of results was one reason she had put so much stock in her clandestine meeting tonight. Greg would feel different if she could produce an eyewitness to the murder.
She should have known the instant she pulled into the parking lot of the bar that it didn’t hold much promise. Three bulbs were missing from the Texas lone star that blinked off and on above the door. She had hesitated to even go inside the place.
Every head in the room had turned. The men were a rough bunch. They were drawn to her like coyotes to fresh meat. The women looked even rougher, and glowered at her with the blatant unfriendliness of potential rivals. She was tempted to turn and run, but remembering what had taken her there, she walked boldly to the bar.
“White wine, please.”
That generated a snicker from everybody within hearing distance. Taking her glass with her, she moved to a booth and slid into the bench that would afford her the best view of the room. Sipping self-consciously, she let her gaze move from one face to another, trying to ascertain which belonged to the voice on the telephone.
Then, to her horror, she realized that some of the men took her close scrutiny of them as encouragement. From then on, she confined her stares to the bottom of her wine glass, wishing that her informant would hurry up and join her and end the suspense. On the other hand, she dreaded meeting him. If he were among this crowd, she didn’t think he’d be someone she would enjoy getting to know.
Billiard balls clacked and clattered. She got an overdose of George Strait and Waylon Jennings. She inhaled clouds of smoke, even though she wasn’t smoking. And still she sat alone.
Finally, a man who had been seated at the bar when she had come in slid off his stool and moved in the general direction of her booth. He took his own sweet time, stopping at the jukebox to make his selections and pausing beside the pool table to heckle one of the players about a bad shot.
His wandering seemed aimless and casual, but his gaze kept drifting toward her. Her midsection tightened. Instinctively, she knew that his final destination would be her booth.
It was. He propped his hip against the back of the padded bench across the table from her and smiled down as he tilted a long-neck beer bottle to his lips. “You waitin’ for somebody?”
His voice sounded different, but then, both times he’d called her, he’d been whispering. “You know I am,” she replied in a cold undertone. “Why’d you take so long to come over?”
“I was building up my courage,” he said, slurping another draft of beer. “Now that I’m here, wanna dance?”
“Dance?”
“Yeah, dance. You know, a one an’ a two.” He used the spout of his beer bottle to push up the brim of his cowboy hat. His eyes slithered over her.
Her reaction was negative and chilling. “I thought you wanted to talk.”
He seemed momentarily nonplussed, then gave her a slow, sly grin. “We can talk all you want to, honey.” He set his bottle of beer on the table and extended his hand down to her. “My truck’s right outside.”
He was just a cowboy on the make! Alex didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. Hastily gathering up her things, she headed for the door. “Hey, wait a minute. Where’re you goin’?”
She left him and everybody else at the Last Chance wondering. Now, pacing the worn carpet of her motel room, she berated herself for being such a fool. She wouldn’t put it past Reede or one of the Mintons to pay an out-of-work cowboy a few bucks to call her and deliberately throw her off track.
She was still stewing several minutes later when her telephone rang. She yanked it up. “Hello.”
“Do you think I’m crazy?” the familiar voice wheezed.
“Where were you?” she shouted. “I waited in that sleazy joint for almost an hour.”
“Was the sheriff there the whole time?”
“What are you talking about? Reede wasn’t there.”
“Look, lady, I know what I seen. I got there just as you was goin’ inside. Reede Lambert was tailin’ you. Oh, he cruised on past, but made a U-turn down the road a piece. I didn’t even stop. It wouldn’t do at all for Lambert to see us talkin’ together.”
“Reede was following me?”