Alex had been away for a week, handling the details of her grandmother’s funeral. Only Alex, a handful of former co-workers, and a few of the nursing home patients had attended the chapel service. After the burial, Alex had begun the unwelcome chore of clearing out her grandmother’s room at the nursing home. The staff had been kind, but there was a waiting list, so they had needed the room emptied immediately.
It had been an emotionally stressful week. As she had sat staring at the modest casket, while organ music played softly in the background, she had felt an overwhelming sense of defeat. She had failed to fulfill the promise she had made to herself and to her grandmother: She hadn’t produced Celina’s murderer in time.
More defeating than that, she had failed to win her grandmother’s absolution and love. That had been her last chance; she wouldn’t have another.
She had given serious consideration to throwing in the towel, telling Greg that he’d been right, and that she should have taken his advice from the beginning. He would enjoy seeing her humility, and he would immediately assign her another case.
That would have been the easier course. She would never have to enter the city limits of Purcell again, or cope with the hostility that flew at her like missiles from everyone she met, or look into the face of this man, who generated myriad ambiguous feelings inside her.
From a legal viewpoint, she still had a case too weak to stand up in court. But from a personal perspective, she couldn’t quit. She had become intrigued by the men who had loved her mother. She had to know which one of them had killed her, and whether or not she was responsible for her mother’s murder. She would either have to deny her guilt, or learn to live with it, but she couldn’t let it go forever unresolved.
So, she had returned to Purcell. She was staring into the pair of green eyes that had haunted her thoughts for a week, and they were as compelling and disturbing as she remembered.
“I wasn’t sure you’d be back,” he told her bluntly.
“You should have been. I told you I wouldn’t give up.”
“Yeah, I remember,” he said grimly. “How was the dance the other night?”
His question came out of the blue and evoked a knee-jerk response. “How did you know I went?”
“Word gets around.”
“Junior told you.”
“No.”
“I can hardly stand the suspense,” Alex said. “How did you find out I went to the Horse and Gun Club?”
“One of my deputies clocked Junior doing eighty-one that night out on the highway. Around eleven o’clock, he said. He saw you in the car with him.” He was no longer lookin
g at her, but studying the toes of his boots. “You sure were in a hell of a hurry to get back to your motel.”
“I was ready to leave the club, that’s all. I wasn’t feeling well.”
“The barbecue didn’t sit well with you? Or was it the people? Some of them make me sick to my stomach, too.”
“It wasn’t the food or the people. It was, well, one person: Stacey Wallace… Minton.” Alex closely watched for his reaction. His face remained impassive. “Why didn’t anyone tell me that Stacey had been married to Junior?”
“You didn’t ask.”
Miraculously, she was able to hold her temper in check. “Didn’t it occur to anybody that their hasty marriage might be significant?”
“It wasn’t.”
“I reserve the right to decide the significance of it myself.”
“Be my guest. Do you think it’s significant?”
“Yes, I do. The timing of Junior’s first marriage always struck me as strange. It’s even stranger that the bride turned out to be the judge’s daughter.”
“That’s not strange at all.”
“Coincidental, certainly.”
“Not even that. Stacey Wallace had been in love, or lust, with Junior since the day she first laid eyes on him. Everybody knew it, including Junior. She certainly made no secret of her devotion. When Celina died, Stacey saw her chance and seized it.”
“Stacey didn’t strike me as an opportunist.”