Finally, the growing knot of anxiety in her chest got to be too much and she blurted out, “I had nothing to do with what happened tonight.”
He merely turned his head and looked at her, his expression one of patent disbelief.
“I think Junior believes me,” she cried defensively.
“What the hell does he know? You’ve dazzled him. He took one look into those baby blues of yours and sank like a rock. He’s up to his ass in sentimental bullshit about you being Celina’s daughter. He remembers how he used to dote on you and wants to do it again—only in an entirely different way. The toy he wants to give you to play with now doesn’t rattle.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“It must have given you a thrill to see us coming close to blows over you.”
She ground her teeth. “Think what you want to about my designs on Junior and his on me, but I won’t have you thinking I was responsible for the damage done to his ranch tonight.”
“You were responsible. You incited Plummet.”
“Not intentionally. Plummet got it into his head that I was an answer to his prayers—that God sent me to purge Purcell of sinners, the Mintons, anyone connected to or a proponent of pari-mutuel gambling.”
“He’s crazier than I thought.”
She rubbed her upper arms as though recollections of Plummet gave her chills. “You don’t know the half of it. He says God is angry because I haven’t locked all of you away. He accused me of fraternizing with the devil, meaning you.” She refrained from telling him the sexual parallels Plummet had drawn.
Reede parked in front of her motel room. The door was still in shambles and standing ajar. “I thought you said you’d take care of that.”
“Prop a chair under the doorknob till morning. You’ll be all right.”
He didn’t turn off the Blazer’s engine, but let it idle. The police radio crackled with its monotonous static, but there were no transmissions now. The noise was grating on her nerves.
“I’m sorry about Double Time, Reede. I know how attached to him you were.”
His leather jacket made a squeaking sound against the upholstery when he shrugged indifferently. “He was insured.”
Alex uttered a small cry of anguish and anger. He wouldn’t let her apologize. He wouldn’t let her feel sad or sorry because he wouldn’t allow himself those emotions. She had witnessed the heartache he had suffered seconds before he put a bullet through the horse’s brain. She had heard it when he talked about his father’s pathetic funeral.
And that’s what Reede couldn’t forgive. More than once he had let down his guard and revealed to her that he was a feeling human being after all.
She balled her fists, pressed her wrists together, and thrust them across the console toward him. He looked at her with a dark, questioning frown. “What does that signify?”
“Handcuff me,” she said. “Haul me in. Arrest me. Charge me with the crime. You said I was responsible.”
“You are,” he ground out, his previous rage returning. “Angus was right. If you hadn’t come here and started snooping around, none of this would have happened.”
“I refuse to take the blame for what happened tonight, Reede. It was the act of an unbalanced man and his misled followers. If my investigation hadn’t been their catalyst, something else would have been. I’ve apologized for the horse. What more do you want from me?”
He gave her a sharp look. She withdrew her hands, snatching them back as though they’d been placed too close to the maws of some terrible beast, and she had realized it in the nick of time.
Inside her mouth was the taste of his kiss—whiskey- and tobacco-flavored. As though it were happening again, she felt the swirling search of his tongue, the possessive pressure of his fingers on her scalp, the solid presence of his thighs against hers.
“You’d better go inside, Counselor.” His voice was quiet and husky.
He dropped the truck’s transmission into reverse. Alex took his advice and got out.
Chapter 24
Alex groped for the ringing telephone. She answered it on the fifth ring and said groggily, “Hello?”
“Miss Gaither? I didn’t wake you, did I? If so, I’m terribly sorry.”
Alex shoved hair out of her eyes, licked her dry lips, blinked puffy eyes into focus, and struggled into a sitting position. “No, I was just, uh, doing some, uh, stuff.” The nightstand clock said ten o’clock. She’d had no idea she was sleeping that late, but then, it had been almost dawn before she’d gone to bed. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure—”