Dead Giveaway (Stillwater Trilogy #2)(64)
Author: Brenda Novak

She was calling Allie from her hospital bed? "Are you sure you shouldn’t rest for a week or two, enjoy your new baby and let someone else handle–"

"Nothing’s going to stand in the way of helping my brother," she stated flatly. "I’m not letting two whole weeks slip by without taking advantage of them."

Suddenly Allie felt more alert. "What’s his bail amount?"

"They haven’t set it yet," she said. "The bastards–excuse me–the police arrested him on Friday, knowing he won’t be arraigned until Tuesday."

"Which means he has to spend four days in jail."

"Exactly. But regardless of the bail amount, I’m getting him out. I’ll raise the money, even if I have to sell my own house."

Allie bit her lip as she considered the odds. It’d be her, the Montgomerys, Grace’s husband Kennedy–and possibly Jed Fowler, except that finding his cap at the cabin suggested she might be a fool to trust him–against the whole town, including Allie’s own father.

Shit. She fell back into bed and covered her eyes with one arm. "What time do you want me at your place?"

"Seven."

"Okay," she said, resolute. "The D.A.’s going to be sorry he ever pursued this case, right?"

"If we’re lucky," Grace said, but she sounded more determined than optimistic.

After Allie disconnected, she stayed where she was, staring up at the ceiling. She’d just admitted how she felt about Clay. Was she crazy? She’d seen him coming out of Beth Ann’s trailer last night!

But she wasn’t basing her decision to help in his defense on whether or not he returned her feelings. She was basing it on the fact that she believed he was innocent. That gave her no choice.

Allie stepped back behind the curtains as a car turned down her street. She’d been waiting for Jed Fowler to get home from work so she could talk to him about his cap, but the Buick that rolled past belonged to a neighbor on the far corner. Jed didn’t show up for another fifteen minutes–but when she saw him pull into his driveway, she left the house and crossed the street.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to worry about her daughter. After school, she’d taken Whitney to her Boppo’s. Whitney had been begging to go, and Allie didn’t want her there for the conversation with Jed or at Grace’s later tonight. Why risk having Whitney repeat what she’d heard to Evelyn and Dale?

Although Allie was pretty sure Jed knew she was waiting for him, he took his time getting out of his truck. He’d asked her not to come to his place without a subpoena. But she needed answers now more than ever. If she could figure out who’d shot Clay, she might be able to raise enough doubt and uncertainty about the motivation behind Clay’s arrest to get the D.A. to drop the case.

"Did you hear?" she said when Jed finally opened his door.

He squinted at her, and she guessed he was remembering that he’d told her not to come over again.

"They arrested Clay Montgomery this morning. For the murder of Reverend Barker."

He shook his head–in disgust or disbelief, she didn’t know–grabbed his lunch pail from his truck and started for the house.

"I have something that belongs to you," Allie called after him.

When he turned back, she pulled his red cap out of her new purse. "Look familiar?"

"Where’d you get that?" he asked, wiping the grease-covered fingers of his free hand on his gray coveralls.

"At my father’s fishing cabin."

His lips formed a grim line.

"You know where that is, don’t you?" she asked.

"Nope."

She made a show of studying his cap. "Then how did your hat get up there?"

He shoved his lunch box under one arm. "No idea. Haven’t seen it for several days."

"Where’d you leave it last?"

"Don’t know."

"In the truck?"

"Maybe."

"At your shop?"

He shrugged.

"Someone broke into my car, stole my gun and shot Clay with it," she said. "At the cabin."

He didn’t respond.

"I don’t suppose you know who might’ve done that."

"The Vincellis are saying you shot him yourself," he said.

Allie stiffened in surprise. "Why would I do that?"

"To muddy the waters, I guess."

"Muddy the waters?"

"Pretend there’s someone else who’s trying to keep the truth from coming out."

She thought of the blood pouring down Clay’s arm. "That’s quite a chance to take with someone’s life, don’t you think?"

"It’s amazing what some people will do," he said.

For love? Was that why he’d tried to confess?

She wanted to ask. But he disappeared inside the house, leaving her standing in his driveway.

McCormick had been expecting Irene’s call. He’d known she wouldn’t sit back and take her son’s arrest without some reaction. But he’d expected her to use the number he’d given her–not contact him at the station. When Hendricks announced that Irene Montgomery was on the line, demanding to speak with him, Dale nearly had a heart attack. The mayor, the Vincellis, Beth Ann, even some of the folks who’d given statements on the Barker case years ago, were gathered around him, celebrating Clay’s arrest.

"Okay…uh…thank you," he said to Hendricks as all eyes turned toward him, even those of his wife.

Assuming an impersonal expression, he picked up the receiver. "Chief McCormick."

"How could you?" Irene said.

Glancing around the crowded room, he cleared his throat to buy a few seconds to prepare his response. "Yes, that’s true, Mrs. Montgomery. I’m sorry, but there’s been some new evidence that’s come to light–"

"What evidence?" she snapped.

"A witness who–"

"Beth Ann?" she screeched. "She’s a damn liar, and you know it!"

He strove to keep his voice steady, calm. "I’ll be happy to explain everything to you. But now’s not a good time. I’ve got a lot of people here at the station. Let me call you back."

"No! Dale–"

"I’m afraid I have to insist."

She started to cry. "When?"

"As soon as possible."

"You’d better," she said and hung up.

Evelyn stepped close to him as he set the phone back in its cradle. "I feel sorry for her," she murmured. "What must it be like to have your son hauled off to jail?"

"I’m sure she knew he was guilty all along," Joe said, confirming Dale’s impression that he’d been listening in. "Right, Beth Ann?"

Beth Ann no longer seemed so eager to go after Clay, but Joe was putting pressure on her to stick with her story. "Right," she muttered.