Dead Giveaway (26 page)

They were only looking for a quick escape from the pressure, a way to get Clay.

She needed her own space. Complicated as her life had become, that was clear.

"Why not move into the guesthouse?" her mother asked hopefully. Wearing a pained expression, Evelyn had been waiting for the right moment to intercede. But Allie hadn't given her much of a chance. She'd been rushing from one drawer to the next. Whitney's clothes and half of her own belongings were already jammed into a large suitcase she'd had to sit on to latch. The rest she was tossing into boxes she'd stored in the garage.

"No, thanks," she muttered.

Her father had made himself scarce since their return to town. Allie couldn't guess what he was thinking. But she refused to be dependent on him any longer. She had some savings, enough to pay a security deposit and a few months' rent. She'd start looking for work on Monday.

"Where are we going, Mommy?" Whitney asked, watching her with eyes almost as wide as Evelyn's.

"Not far, sweetheart." After she'd dropped off her badge and cruiser at the station, along with a report that explained the theft and subsequent shooting, Allie had picked up a newspaper and placed a few calls. Stillwater didn't have much of a rental market. But she'd managed to lease, on a month-to-month basis, a small two-bedroom house.

The only problem was that it happened to be directly across the street from Jed Fowler's.

Allie wasn't too happy about living in Jed's neighborhood. But at least she'd be around the corner from Whitney's school.

"Why are you making such a snap decision?" Evelyn asked. "Give your father time to cool off, then sit down and talk about this with him, like adults."

118

Brenda Novak

Letting him cool off wouldn't help. They were on opposite sides of this issue. She hated to uproot Whitney again, but she and her father couldn't live under the same roof. The tension would be worse for her daughter than the change. "I have nothing more to say to him," she said.

"You're mad at Grandpa?" Whitney asked.

Allie tried to temper her response. "We're having a disagreement, that's all."

Whitney moved closer. "So you want to leave before he gets home?"

"That would be best." She'd rather save Whitney from hearing an upsetting argument. She had other reasons for rushing, too. She was determined to canvass the cabin and surrounding woods for evidence--before the sheriff's department could take over. She'd gone through the area once already, when Officer Grimes had taken her back to get her car. But she hadn't wanted to run into Clay, who'd be coming back for his truck, so she'd made only a cursory pass. She was embarrassed that she'd lost her objectivity so quickly. And she wasn't proud of herself for getting personally involved in a case.

Whitney hugged Evelyn's leg. "Will I still get to see Boppo?"

Seeing the panic in her daughter's face, Allie knelt in front of her. "Of course. Boppo can visit us whenever she likes."

"
Visit
you?" Evelyn echoed. "I won't be watching Whitney while you work?"

"Not until I get a job."

"You quit the force?"

Allie dumped the rest of her shoes on top of the quilt that had been a wedding gift. "No, Dad fired me. But...he was probably right to do so." Otherwise, she would've caused even more trouble for him. And, hurt and angry though she was over what he'd said, she didn't want to do that.

"What's wrong with him?" Evelyn muttered, obviously confused.

Remembering the photograph stuck between her mattress and box spring, Allie retrieved it and slipped it into her pocket. "He doesn't like the company I'm keeping," she said. Then she started dragging the first of her boxes down the hall.

Clay was cleaning up the dishes from his supper when he finally gave up trying to ignore his ringing phone.

"I've been trying to reach you all day. Where have you been?" his mother asked without any of the customary greetings.

Clay hadn't wanted to talk to anyone until he'd decided how he was going to handle the situation with Allie and her father. He couldn't leave it as it was. She'd lost her job because of him.

"I've been busy."

"I came by earlier. No one was there."

"I was out running errands." He'd had Grace drive him to Jed's shop, where he'd purchased two tires before she took him to the cabin to get his truck. Then he'd paid Joe a visit. Joe claimed he was in bed asleep when Clay was shot. But there wasn't anyone to corroborate his whereabouts. So it wasn't easy to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Word has it you were shot last night," Irene said.

"That would be true." He was wearing a makeshift bandage he'd put on himself. But he didn't plan to keep it on for long. The tape bothered him, and the wound was already beginning to heal.

"You didn't think your mother might be worried about you?"

He slipped the pan he'd used to fry grits into the soapy water. "Who told you? Grace?"

"No. I haven't been able to get hold of her, either. Madeline overheard it at the grocery 119

Brenda Novak

store. Can you imagine what
that
must've been like? To hear from a stranger that her brother had been shot? We've both been worried sick."

"I'm sorry." He'd had too much on his mind, hadn't expected word to get out quite this fast.

"Anyway, it's nothing." It was making love with Allie afterward that had made a serious impact.

"What happened?"

"Someone took a shot at me from the trees."

She gasped. "Who?"

"I don't know. But I'm fine. The bullet passed through the flesh of my arm, that's all."

"Have you seen a doctor?"

He used a pot scrubber to get his pan clean. "There's no need."

"You were shot and you didn't even go to the doctor?"

"I told you, I'm fine."

"Where were you when this happened? At the farm?"

"At Chief McCormick's cabin."

She said nothing.

He paused in his work. "You've been there, haven't you?"

"What do
you
think?"

He went back to scrubbing. "I think you should be glad you broke things off with McCormick when you did."

"Why?"

"Allie went there searching for proof that her father's having an affair."

"You
told
her?"

"Of course not. She's beginning to suspect."

"Why?"

"Did you give him a teddy bear mug?" he asked, rinsing the pan and setting it in the drainer.

There was an uncomfortable silence. "Yes..."

Clay let the water drain out of the sink. "There you go."

"Did she find what she was looking for?"

If there'd been any doubt in Clay's mind, the fear in his mother's voice would've confirmed that she'd spent plenty of time at the cabin. "No. But make sure you never go back."

"We broke up, remember?"

"Doesn't hurt to give you a little warning."

"Who would want to harm you?" she asked.

He ran some clear water through his rag, wrung it out and started wiping the counters. "The list isn't as short as we might hope."

"But...why now?"

"Allie thinks someone's afraid I'm not going to get what's coming to me."

"It has to be Joe," she said. "That man's awful. Just awful."

Joe had been particularly hateful since Grace's return nine months ago. Something about her triggered the worst in him. He wanted her and hated her at the same time. And now that Allie was back, and she wasn't siding with the Vincellis the way Joe thought she should, he was angrier than ever.

Joe...Clay shook his head. He didn't have an alibi for last night. But why would he write Allie a note, telling her to leave the past alone? Joe
wanted
her to investigate.

"I'm not convinced it was Joe." Which was the only reason Joe was still walking around in perfect health.

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Brenda Novak

"Who else could it be?"

"I don't know, but I need to talk to Chief McCormick. Face-to-face. Can you tell him to pay me a visit? Tonight?"

"What?"
she said.

"You heard me."

"What do you want with him?"

Clay grabbed a towel to dry his dishes. "A trade."

"What kind of trade?"

"Nothing you need to worry about."

"Does it have to do with Allie?" she asked.

"Maybe."

"I heard you're sleeping with her. Is that true?"

"The chief tell you that?"

"Of course not. We're not talking. Anyway, he's too protective of his daughter to tell anyone. Madeline heard it."

"Who from?"

"She didn't say."

Clay winced at the twinge of pain he felt lifting his dishes into the cupboard and switched hands. The person who'd spread that gossip was most likely the person who'd shot him. Who else, besides the chief, knew he and Allie had been together?

"It's not true," he said. He knew it'd be better for Allie if he simply denied it and hoped she'd do the same.

There was a long silence. "Now you're lying to
me?
"

Hell
. "We were together one night."

"I see."

"You're the one who started the whole thing, so don't give me any grief about it."

"I never said you should sleep with her!"

"You didn't act as if you'd be opposed to the idea. Anyway, it's not worth arguing about.

We're not seeing each other anymore."

"Well, I'm not seeing her father, either. So I can't deliver your message."

"Call him." Clay closed the cupboard and chucked his towel toward the hook where he normally hung it. "You must have some way of getting in touch with him. Or I'll call him myself."

There was a long pause. "Clay, what's going on?"

He started bagging up the garbage under his sink. "Is the chief aware that I know about the two of you?"

"Of course not."

That explained why McCormick had felt free to disparage Allie. "Maybe it's time he found out."

"No! Clay, I've done what you wanted me to do, now leave him alone."

Clay tied the bag shut and dropped it. Much as he was tempted to use McCormick's own mistakes against him, he couldn't. Threatening to divulge the chief's extramarital affair would only make McCormick angrier. And it would be a bluff, anyway. Clay could never really tell because of the people it would hurt, including Allie and his own mother.

In any event, he didn't need to blackmail McCormick. He had something else the chief wanted, and he suspected McCormick wanted it badly enough to give Clay almost anything in return.

121

Brenda Novak

"Are you going to call him, or am I?" he asked his mother.

"Will you tell me what you're doing?"

He kicked the garbage bag toward the back door. "I'm cleaning up my own mess."

She sighed. "Fine. I'll call him."

"You have a private way of getting in touch?"

"I have a number that goes directly to a voice-mail account. He used to check it and call me back when he could. Now I don't know what he'll do."

"He probably checks it more often than ever," Clay said. "Just tell him I'll be expecting him here at the house."

122

Brenda Novak

14

T
urning off his headlights, Chief McCormick sat at the side of the road and studied the farm where Clay Montgomery lived. He wasn't convinced he was doing the right thing in coming here, especially this late. After what had happened at the cabin that morning, he feared a confrontation might turn violent. But the message that Clay wanted to see him had come through Irene, which worried McCormick more than a little. She rarely mentioned her son. Most of the time, Dale managed to pretend she had only a distant connection to that whole business with Lee Barker.

Did this late-night summons mean she'd told Clay about the two of them?

That thought alone made Dale's pulse race. Current circumstances were bad enough; he didn't need any more trouble. Although he was relieved not to be sneaking around anymore, he couldn't quit thinking about Irene, couldn't stop missing her. The mayor was breathing down his neck, threatening his job if he didn't charge
someone
with the death of Reverend Barker. And, according to the call he'd received from his wife, Allie and Whitney had moved out.

But he'd had to take a stand. He would not allow her to get mixed up with Clay Montgomery. What kind of husband would Clay make? He was standoffish at best. And if he ever went to prison, justifiably or not, where would that leave Allie and Whitney? Besides, considering his own past relationship with Irene, he'd be a fool to bring the two families together. In such proximity, the truth was bound to emerge. And he couldn't have that. He was taken with Irene,
craved
her, but he didn't love her the way he loved his wife.

Putting the transmission in gear, Dale pulled slowly into the gravel driveway, wondering how he'd let his life come to this. He'd never planned on having an affair. He'd just grown so infatuated with Irene--and it had all stemmed from seeing her so often at Two Sisters, where they both ate lunch.

He remembered making eye contact, the tentative smiles they'd exchanged and how they'd begun to time their exit so they could walk out together. Even after she'd slipped him her number, it had taken him a full two weeks to get up the nerve to call her. Part of him--the decent part, he supposed--hadn't wanted to break down. But in the end, he couldn't resist, despite her alleged involvement in the Barker case.

That case hadn't seemed so important back then. The investigation had stalled out years earlier, and Dale had never dreamed it would become such an issue again. Besides, the better he got to know Irene, the easier it was to ignore the whole Barker mess. The woman he knew would never purposely harm anyone.

But that didn't mean she wouldn't cover for Clay.... Maybe he'd shrugged off that possibility in the past, but he couldn't anymore. The mayor was pressing him too hard.

His cell phone rang. He took it from the seat, hoping it was Irene. She wasn't supposed to call him on his cell but whenever his phone rang he couldn't help wishing....