Page 80 of Best Kept Secrets

“I’m sorry. I can’t help that, either.”

“Can’t—or won’t?” Stacey held her arms straight at her sides and shuddered with revulsion. “I abhor people who trample on the reputations of others for their own personal gain.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing?” Alex asked, taking umbrage. “Do you think I devised this investigation to advance my career?”

“Didn’t you?”

“No,” she answered, firmly shaking her head. “My mother was murdered in that stable. I don’t believe that the man accused of it was capable of committing that crime. I want to know what really happened. I will know what happened. And I’ll make the one responsible pay for making me an orphan.”

“I was prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I see it’s only revenge you want, after all.”

“I want justice.”

“No matter what it costs other people?”

“I’ve already apologized for any unhappiness it causes you.”

Stacey made a scoffing sound. “You want to publicly crucify my father. Don’t deny it,” she snapped when Alex started to object. “No matter how much you deny it, you’re leaving him open to ridicule. At the very least, you’re accusing him of making a serious error in judgment.”

To deny that would be a lie. “Yes, I believe he made a bad judgment in the case of Buddy Hicks.”

“Daddy’s got forty impeccable years on the bench that vouch for his wisdom and integrity.”

“If my investigation is petty, as you call it, it won’t affect his record, will it, Mrs. Minton? A lofty judge couldn’t possibly be brought down by a lowly public prosecutor with nothing except spite and vengeance for ammunition. Evidence would be necessary to support my allegations.”

“You don’t have any.”

“I believe I will before I’m finished. If your father’s reputation suffers as a result…” She drew a deep breath and raised a weary hand to her forehead. Her expression was earnest, her words heartfelt. “Stacey, I don’t want to ruin your father’s career or besmirch his tenure on the bench. I don’t want to hurt anybody’s feelings or cause any innocent bystander grief or embarrassment. I only want to see justice done.”

“Justice,” Stacey sneered, her eyes narrowing with malice. “You’ve got no right to even speak the word. You’re just like your mother—pretty, but shallow. Single-minded and selfish. Uncaring of other people’s feelings. Unable to see beyond your own superficial desires.”

“I take it you didn’t like my mother very much,” Alex remarked, her voice laced with sarcasm.

Stacey took her seriously. “I hated her.”

“Why? Because Junior was in love with her?”

Alex reasoned that if Stacey were going to hit below the belt, she might as well, too. It worked. Stacey fell back a step and groped for the dressing table to support herself. Reflexively, Alex extended a helping hand, but the judge’s daughter recoiled from her touch.

“Stacey, I know that Junior married you only a few weeks after my mother was killed. You must realize how odd that strikes me.”

“It might have seemed sudden, but we’d been dating for years.”

That surprised Alex. “You had?”

“Yes. And for most of that time, we’d been lovers.”

Stacey threw that piece of news at Alex like a dart, sharply and triumphantly. All it served, however, was to make Alex pity her more. She had the full picture now of a plain girl, hopelessly in love with the affable and handsome football hero, willing to sacrifice anything, including her pride, to have even scraps of his attention. She would do anything to keep him near her. “I see.”

“I doubt it. Just like Junior, you’re blind to the truth.”

“What is the truth, Stacey?”

“That Celina was wrong for him. Like everybody else, she constantly compared him to Reede. Junio

r always came out in second place. I didn’t care how he measured up to anybody. I loved him for what he was. Junior didn’t want to believe it, but in spite of your father and you, Celina would have always loved Reede.”

“If she loved him so much, why did she marry my father?” That question had been plaguing Alex for days.