Dead Giveaway (Stillwater Trilogy #2)(79)
Author: Brenda Novak

"Then maybe Barker did come back that night. Maybe an argument ensued, and–"

"Jed didn’t kill him."

Allie felt a chill roll down her spine. From the way Grace had spoken, she knew who did. If Allie had ever doubted it, she didn’t anymore. "If it wasn’t Jed, who was it?" she asked.

A ghost of a smile touched Grace’s lips. "Not Clay," she said. Then she picked up her baby and left. She didn’t ask to see the pictures, didn’t ask to witness Allie burning them. But Allie did exactly that, right there in Clay’s fireplace. She watched every disgusting photo twist and writhe in the heat, as she hoped Barker was twisting and writhing in hell, then go up in smoke.

Except for the photos of Barker with the other two girls. Allie decided to keep those safe.

She knew they were a risk to Madeline’s happiness. That Clay and Grace would rather she destroyed them, too. But there could come a day when the truth won out. Then the Montgomerys would need the evidence for their side.

Chapter 20

Clay stood at the periphery of the dance floor, drinking a beer. It felt so good to be out of jail, he didn’t care if he moved from that spot all night. Molly was in town to see the baby, but Grace and Lauren had gone to sleep early, so Clay had taken his youngest sister dancing.

Right now, coming to the pool hall felt like a pretty great idea. Molly seemed to be having fun dancing with a cowboy who’d just moved to Stillwater.

Clay smiled as he watched her. He enjoyed Molly’s laughter and animated conversation for a lot of reasons, but mostly because it had so little to do with the past, or what he was enduring in the present. Of everyone in his family, she seemed the least affected by what had happened the night Barker died. She’d been so young at the time, she hadn’t understood what their stepfather had done to Grace. She only knew there’d been an argument and a terrible accident, and that they’d had to cover it up because they couldn’t risk having their mother carted off to prison. Without Irene, they would’ve been split up and forced into foster care.

Leaning one shoulder against the wall, Clay took another long pull on his beer. As an adult, Molly probably knew more about the abuse that had occurred than she had as a child. But it was still largely in a cerebral sense. Grace refused to talk about Barker, so Clay guessed Molly had never heard the gruesome details. Neither had she seen the pictures he and his mother had found and destroyed that night in Barker’s office. Unlike Grace, who’d acted like an automaton during those long hours, running and fetching everything he and Irene asked for, even helping scrub up the blood because they were so desperate for time, Molly had covered her ears and run off to her bedroom, where she’d stayed until the following morning, when it was all over.

Less than two years ago, she’d told Clay that The Night was more like a bad dream for her than anything else.

Lucky girl…

He saw Molly staring at him over the shoulder of the cowboy she was dancing with, and tipped the top of his beer bottle her way.

She waved, indicating that she wanted him to join her on the dance floor. But he shook his head. He wasn’t interested in finding a partner. Maybe he was out of jail, which made him feel practically euphoric, but he was only out on bail. He faced a difficult trial in the not so distant future. And that wasn’t all he had to worry about. Since the discovery of her affair with Dale McCormick, Irene had closeted herself in her little duplex and wouldn’t come out. According to Madeline, she hadn’t even been to work.

Clay would’ve visited his mother and attempted to console her, but he was angry with her for going back to McCormick and making a bad situation even worse. For hurting Allie…

He grimaced. Somehow, every thought led him back to the police chief’s daughter.

Although Grace said she was okay, he wanted to contact her to see for himself. But he couldn’t.

How could he expect her to pick up her old life and move on as if he didn’t exist if he was still calling her?

"Hi, Clay. You’re looking good."

Helaina, a woman he used to date, had sauntered up to him.

He nodded but barely acknowledged her beyond that. He didn’t want to encourage her to hang around.

Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to notice that his response lacked enthusiasm. "I’m surprised to see you out and about," she said.

"Why?" He held up his bottle. "Might as well enjoy a beer while I can still order one, eh?"

She sidled closer, reminding him of a cat eager to rub up against him. "Do you really think they’re gonna put you away?"

"I think they’re gonna try."

Her bottom lip came out. "It’ll be a real loss to womankind if they succeed."

He cocked an eyebrow at her suggestive tone, and she responded with a sultry smile.

"Having a beer is good. But there are other things you should do while you have the chance," she murmured, moving so that her br**sts brushed his arm.

The fact that he might soon be permanently denied the pleasure of a woman made Clay crave sex more than ever. But not with Helaina. Or any of the other women he’d known in the past.

He wanted Allie–so badly he dreamed of her almost every night. "Thanks, but I’ve got my sister here with me," he said.

"She’s not big enough to find her own way home?"

"It wouldn’t be very nice of me to leave her, would it? She just got into town this morning."

Helaina’s heart-shaped face flushed with disappointment, but she shrugged. "You have my number."

He started to give her a noncommittal response–but the words congealed in his throat. The door across the room had opened and Allie walked in. She was wearing an attractive skirt that hit her above the knees, along with a pair of cowboy boots and a tight-fitting brown sweater. And she was alone. He knew she hadn’t come to socialize when a frown of concentration wrinkled her forehead and she began to search the crowd.

Helaina followed his gaze. "What?" she said. "Don’t tell me you’re still seeing Miss Goody two-shoes."

"I’m not seeing anyone." For Allie’s sake, he wanted the rumors to die down. But she’d already spotted him and was coming straight toward him.

"Can we step outside?" she asked as soon as she reached him. "I’d like to talk to you for a moment."

Clay could feel Helaina’s attention, knew she was listening to every word. "Not tonight," he said.

Allie blinked in surprise. "Excuse me, but I’m not asking you to dance. This is important."

He scowled. "It can’t be important. We don’t have any business together."

"Oooh," Helaina said, her voice lively with interest.

Allie’s eyes cut to her, then returned to him. "What, exactly, are you trying to prove? I’m doing my best to help you."