Page 71 of Best Kept Secrets

“It’s you in particular.”

His bluntness was an affront. She was tempted to remind him that his kiss yesterday hadn’t conveyed dislike, but she didn’t. She didn’t want to remind him of it. She hoped to forget it herself, pretend that it had never happened, but she couldn’t. It had left her feeling drastically and irrevocably altered.

No, she couldn’t forget it. The best she could hope for was to learn to cope with the memory of it, and the addictive craving it had instigated.

His statement hurt her deeply. She heard herself asking, “Why don’t you like me?”

“Because you’re a meddler. I don’t like people who meddle in other people’s business.”

“This is my business.”

“How could it be? You were peeing in your diapers when Celina was killed,” he shouted.

“I’m glad you brought that up. Since I was only two months old at the time, what was she doing out at the ranch that night?”

His stunned reaction to the question was swiftly covered. “I forget. Look, I’m due—”

“I doubt you ever forget anything, Reede Lambert, much as you pretend that you do. What was she doing there? Please tell me.”

He stood up. So did Alex. “Junior had invited her for supper, that’s all.”

“Was it a special occasion?”

“Ask him.”

“I’m asking you. What was the occasion? And don’t tell me you don’t remember.”

“Maybe he felt sorry for her.”

“Sorry? Why?”

“For being cooped up with a kid, not getting out. Her social life had gone to zilch. She was only eighteen, for crissake.” He stepped around her and headed for the door.

Alex wasn’t ready to let it go at that. His answer was too pat. She caught his arm and forced him to face her. “Were you there at dinner that night?”

“Yeah, I was there.” He jerked his arm free.

“The entire evening?”

“I left before dessert.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like cherry pie.”

She groaned with frustration. “Answer me, Reede. Why did you leave?”

“I had a date.”

“With whom? Does she still live here in town?”

“What the hell difference does it make?”

“She’s your alibi. I’d like to talk to her.”

“Forget it. I’ll never drag her into this.”

“You might have to, or plead the Fifth.”