Best Kept Secrets (35 page)

Several seconds later, he heard his name again, coming to him dimly and from afar. Vaguely, he wondered how she had managed to speak when her tongue was so actively engaged with his.

He heard his name called again and realized that it wasn't Alex's voice.

"Reede? Where are you, boy?"

His head snapped up. Alex blinked her eyes back into focus. He hastily withdrew his hand from inside her sweater.

She yanked her coat closed.

"In here." His voice sounded like he'd recently gargled nails.

Angus stepped through the door Alex had left open.

Reede noticed that the sun had set.

Thirty

To her credit, Alex recovered remarkably well, Angus thought. Except for the dazed expression in her eyes and her slightly swollen lips, she seemed perfectly composed.

"Hello, Angus," she said.

"Hi, Alex. Get things straightened out in Austin?"

"Yes. Thank you for lending me your airplane."

"Don't mention it."

"I, uh, was just on my way out." To Reede she said, "I'll get back to you about this later." She left in a hurry. Reede picked up a wrench and stuck his head into the exposed engine of the small aircraft.

"What's she up to now?" Angus asked as he lowered himself onto the stool Reede had occupied earlier.

"She discovered that I own this place. I never kept it a secret, but I never advertised it, either. She figures I'd have a lot to lose if she takes this case to a grand jury, whether I'm the killer or not."

"She's right," the older man observed. Reede merely shrugged, tossed the wrench on a worktable and closed the motor casing. "Ely told me she came to his office asking questions about his daddy's scalpel and the day of the murder."

"The scalpel, huh?"

"Yeah. Know anything about that?"

"Hell, no, do you?"

"Hell, no."

Reede went to a cabinet where he kept a supply of liquor and beer. He poured himself a hefty shot of Jack Daniels and tossed it down. He tilted the bottle toward Angus. "Want one?"

"Sure, thanks." As he sipped the whiskey, he watched Reede slam back another one.

Catching Angus's curious stare, he said, "It's been that kind of day."

"Alex?"

Reede ran his hands through his hair like a man plagued by demons. "Yeah. Damn, she's tenacious."

"There's no telling what kind of crap Merle Graham filled her head with."

"No wonder she's vengeful." He blew out a breath of extreme agitation. "If ME doesn't get that racetrack, all my future plans will be affected."

"It's that important to you, huh?"

"What did you think, that I want to be a fucking sheriff for the rest of my life?"

"You worry too much, boy!" Angus said heartily. "We'll get it, and your future looks nothing but sunny. That's what I came out here to talk about."

Reede regarded him curiously. "My future?"

Angus finished his whiskey in one hefty swallow and crushed the paper cup in his fist. He pushed his cowboy hat back further on his head and looked up at Reede, smiling devilishly.

"I want you to come back and be an active part of Minton Enterprises again."

For a moment, Reede was rendered speechless by shock.

He fell back a step, laughed, and said, "Are you shittin'

me?"

"Nope." Angus raised a callused hand. "Before you say anything, hear me out."

He had already outlined in his mind what he was going to say. After receiving disturbing calls from two worried members of the racing commission who had read about Alex's investigation in the Austin newspaper, he'd decided he'd better get more aggressive about putting a stop to it.

This thing wasn't going to blow over, like he'd originally hoped.

The long-distance conversations had ended on an optimistic note. He'd pooh-poohed Alex's allegations, told them a few dirty jokes, and had them laughing by the time they hung up. He wasn't gravely concerned yet, but he definitely saw the need for ME to present a solid front. Having Reede as an integral part of the corporation again would be a positive step in that direction.

Now, his rehearsed words flowed smoothly. "You know almost as much as I do about racehorses, and more than Junior ever took the time or effort to learn. You'd come back into the company as an executive. I'd divide responsibilities equally between you and Junior, though you'd have different functions.

"I know how much this airfield means to you. You've got a sentimental attachment to it, but you also see its moneymaking potential. So do I. I'd incorporate it into ME. The corporation could afford to finance the rebuilding and expansion you want to do. We'd also have a lot more clout with the airlines."

His smile broadened. "Shit, I'd even throw in a few shares of ME stock as incentive. You can't pass up a deal like that, boy."

He was disappointed in Reede's reaction, which he had hoped would be astonishment tinged with pleasure. Instead, it appeared to be astonishment tinged with suspicion.

"What brought this on?"

A picture of equanimity, Angus said, "You belong with us--always have. I'm in a position to get things moving for you. You'd be foolish not to take advantage of my offer."

"I'm not a boy who still needs your charity, Angus."

"I never considered you a charity case."

"I know that," Reede said evenly, "but no matter how we dress it up with fancy words, that's what I was." He peered deeply into the older man's eyes. "Don't think I'm not grateful for everything you've done for me."

' 'I never asked you for gratitude. You always did an honest day's work for anything I sent your way."

"I wouldn't have had any advantages at all if it hadn't been for you." He paused before going on. "But I paid you back, several times over, I think. When I left your company, I did it because I needed independence. I still do, Angus."

Angus was perturbed, and made no secret of it. "You wanna be begged, is that it? Okay." He took a deep breath.

"I'm getting close to retirement age. Some would consider me past it. The business needs your leadership qualities to survive." He spread his hands wide. "There. Does that satisfy your confounded ego?"

"I don't need to be stroked, Angus, and you damn well know it. I'm thinking about somebody else's ego."

"Junior's?"

"Junior's. Have you told him about this?"

"No. I didn't see any reason to, until ..."

"Until there was nothing he could do about it."

Angus's silence was as good as an admission.

Reede began to pace. "Junior is your heir, Angus, not me.

He's the one you should be grooming to take over. He needs to be ready when the time comes."

Angus paced, too, while he collected his thoughts. "You're afraid Junior won't get ready as long as you're around to do everything for him and cover his tracks when he messes up."

"Angus, I don't mean--"

"It's all right," he said, raising his hand to ward off Reede's objections. "I'm his daddy. You're his best friend.

We should be able to discuss him freely without wading through bullshit. Junior isn't as strong as you."

Reede looked away. Hearing the truth warmed him inside.

He knew how difficult it was for Angus to say it.

"I always wanted Junior to be more like you--aggressive, assertive, ambitious--but. ..." Angus gave an eloquent shrug. "He needs you, Reede. Hell, so do I. I didn't bust my balls all these years to see everything I've built up fall down around me. I've got my pride, but I'm a practical businessman. I face facts, bad as they sometimes are. One of those facts is that you're competent, and Junior isn't."

"That's my point, Angus. He can be. Force his hand.

Delegate him more responsibility."

"And when he fucks up, you know what'll happen? I'll lose my temper, start yelling at him. He'll sulk and run to his mama, who'll mollycoddle him."

"Maybe at first, but not for long. Junior'll start yelling back one of these days. He'll figure out that the only way to deal with you is to give you tit for tat. I did."

"Is that what you're doing now, getting back at me for some slight I'm not even aware of?"

"Hell, no," Reede answered crossly. "Since when have I ever been afraid to tell you off, or anybody else, if something wasn't to my liking?"

"All right, I'll tell you since when," Angus snapped.

"Since Celina was killed. That changed everything, didn't it?" He moved closer to Reede. "I don't think any of us has had an honest conversation with the other since that morning.

The thing I always feared most was that she'd come between you and Junior." He laughed with rancor. "She did anyway.

Even dead, she put a blight on the friendship."

"Celina has nothing to do with my decision to say no. I want to feel that what's mine is mine. Completely. Not a part of your conglomerate."

"So, it's strictly economics?"

"That's right."

The wheels of Angus's brain were whirring with fresh arguments. "What if I decided to build an airfield of my own?"

"Then we'd be competitors," Reede replied, unruffled.

"But there's not enough business to support two, and both of us would lose."

"But I can afford to. You can't."

"You wouldn't get any satisfaction from bankrupting me, Angus."

Angus relented and snorted a laugh. "You're right. Hell, boy, you're like family."

"Like family, but not. Junior is your son, not me."

"You're turning down this opportunity on account of him, aren't you?" It was a shrewd guess and, he saw by Reede's reaction, a correct one.

Reede gave his wristwatch a needless glance. "Look, I've got to run.''

"Reede," Angus said, grabbing his arm. "You reckon Junior'll ever realize just how good a friend you are to him?"

Reede tried to sound jocular. "Let's not tell him. He's conceited enough as it is."

Angus smelled defeat, and it was obnoxious to him. "I can't let you do it, boy."

"You've got no choice."

"I won't let you say no. I'll keep after you," he promised, his crafty blue eyes gleaming.

"You're not shook up because you'll miss me. You're shook up because you aren't getting your way."

"Not this time, Reede. I need you. Junior needs you. So does ME."

"Why now? After all these years, why does ME's future rely on me coming back?" Reede's features sharpened with realization. "You're scared."

"Scared?" Angus repeated with affected surprise. "Of what? Of whom?"

"Of Alex. You're scared that she might pluck the candy apple right out of your hand. You're trying to pack all the power you can behind you."

"Wouldn't we all be stronger against her if we stood together?"

"We are standing together."

"Are we?" Angus fired.

"You've got my loyalty, Angus, just like I've got yours."

Angus stepped closer to Reede. "I damn sure hope so. But I recall the look on your face when I walked through that door a while ago," he whispered. "You looked like you'd been walloped in the nuts, boy. And she looked all rosy and wet around the mouth."

Reede said nothing. Angus hadn't expected him to. He would have considered a babbling denial or an apology a weakness. Reede's strength was one reason he'd always admired him.

Angus relaxed his tension. "I like the girl, myself. She's saucy, and cute as a button. But she's too smart for her own good." He pointed a stern finger at Reede. "See that you don't get your cock up so high you can't look around it at what she's trying to do. She wants to bring us to our knees, make us atone for Celina's murder.

"Can you afford to lose everything you've worked for? I can't. Furthermore, I won't." Ending the discussion on that grim promise, he stamped out of the hangar.

"Where's my boy?" he stormily demanded of the bartender, almost an hour after leaving Reede. During that time, he'd been making the rounds of Junior's haunts.

"In the back," the bartender answered, indicating the closed door at the back of the tavern.

It was a shabby watering hole, but it had the largest poker pot in town. At any time of day or night, a game was in progress in the back room. Angus shoved open the door, nearly knocking over a cocktail waitress carrying a tray of empty long-necks on her shoulder. He plowed through the cloud of tobacco smoke toward the overhead beam that spotlighted the round poker table.

"I need to talk to Junior," he bellowed.

Junior, a cigar anchored in one corner of his mouth, smiled up at his father. "Can't it wait till we finish this hand? I've got five hundred riding on it, and I'm feeling lucky."

"Your ass is riding on what I've got to tell you, and your luck just ran out."

The other players, most of whom worked for Angus in one capacity or another, quickly swept up their stakes and scuttled out. As soon as the last one cleared the door, Angus banged it shut.

"What the hell's going on?" Junior asked.

"I'll tell you what's going on. Your friend Reede is about to get the best of you again, while you're here in the back room of this dump pissing your life away."

Junior meekly extinguished his cigar. "I don't know what you're talking about."

" 'Cause you've got your head up your ass, instead of on your business, where it belongs."

By an act of will, Angus calmed himself. If he hollered, Junior would only pout. Yelling never got him anywhere.

But it was tough to keep his disappointment and anger from showing.

"Alex was at the airfield this afternoon with Reede."

"So?"

"So, if I'd gotten there ten seconds later, I'd've caught them screwing against the side of an airplane!" he roared, forgetting his resolution to restrain his temper.

Junior bolted from his chair. "The hell you say!"

"I know when animals are in heat, boy. I make part of my living breeding them, remember? I can smell when they want each other," he declared, touching the end of his nose.

"He was doing what you should have been, instead of gambling away money you didn't even earn."

Junior flinched. Defensively, he said, "Last I heard, Alex was out of town."

"Well, she's back."

"All right, I'll call her tonight."