didn't. In all fairness, I can't say that I did. Reede threw it right here," he said, pointing at his chest, "right between the numbers on my jersey. Thirty-five yards. All I had to do was fold my arms over the football and carry it across the goal line."
"But that was enough, wasn't it?"
His smile widened until it germinated into a laugh. "Yep.
That marked the beginning of it."
"Your father must have been ecstatic."
Junior threw back his head and howled with laughter. "He jumped the fence, hurdled the bench, and came charging out onto the field. He swooped me up and carried me around for several minutes."
"What about your mother?"
"My mother! She wouldn't be caught dead at a football game. She thinks it's barbaric." He chuckled, tugging on his earlobe. "She's damned near right. But I didn't care what anybody thought about me, except Dad. He was so proud of me that night." His blue eyes shone with the memory.
"He'd never even met Reede, but he hugged him, too, football pads and all. That night was the beginning of their friendship, too. It wasn't too long after that that Reede's daddy died, and he moved out to the ranch to live with us."
For several moments, his recollections were private. Alex allowed him the introspective time without interruption.
Eventually he glanced up at her and did a double take.
"Jesus, you looked like Celina just then," he said softly.
"Not so much your features, but your expression. You have that same quality of listening." He reached out and touched her hair. "She loved to listen. At least she made the person talking think she did. She could sit so still and just listen for hours." He withdrew his hand, but he didn't seem happy about it.
"Is that what first attracted you to her?"
"Hell, no," he said with a leering smile. "The first thing that attracted me to her was a ninth-grade boy's adolescent lust. The first time I saw Celina in the hall at school, she took my breath, she was so pretty."
"Did you chase after her?"
"Hey, I was dumbstruck, not crazy."
"What about this mad crush you had on her?"
"She belonged to Reede then," he said unequivocally.
"There was never any question about that." He stood up.
"We'd better go. Regardless of what you say, you're freezing.
Besides, it's getting spooky out here in the dark."
Alex, still befuddled by his last statement, let him assist her up. She turned to brush the dry grass off the back of her skirt and noticed the bouquet again. The green waxed paper wrapped around the vivid petals fluttered in the brisk wind.
It made a dry, rattling sound. "Thank you for bringing the flowers, Junior."
"You're welcome."
"I appreciate your thoughtfulness to her over the years."
"In all honesty, I had an ulterior motive for coming here today."
"Oh?"
"Uh-huh," he said, taking both her hands. "To invite you out to the house for drinks."
Seven
She had been expected. That much was evident from the moment Junior escorted her across the threshold of the sprawling two-story house on the Minton ranch. Eager to study her suspects in their own environment, she had agreed to follow Junior home from the cemetery.
As she entered the living room, however, she couldn't help wondering if perhaps she was being manipulated, rather than the other way around.
Her determination to proceed with caution was immediately put to the test when Angus strode across the spacious room and shook her hand.
"I'm glad Junior found you and convinced you to come,"
he told her as he helped her out of her coat. He tossed the fur jacket at Junior. "Hang that up, will ya?" Looking at Alex with approval, he said, "I didn't know how you'd take our invitation. We're pleased to have you."
"I'm pleased to be here."
"Good," he said, rubbing his hands together. "What'll you have to drink?"
"White wine, please," she said. His blue eyes were friendly, but she found them disquieting. He seemed to see beyond the surface and lay bare the emotional insecurities she kept heavily