Dead Right (Stillwater Trilogy #3)(50)
Author: Brenda Novak

“How do you know?” Irene cried.

Clay pulled out a chair and slouched into it. In the beginning, his mother had been determined, smart and strong. But the years and the stress had taken a toll. He didn’t like seeing how she’d changed, how what had happened had worn her out, weakened her. A person could run scared for only so long.

But she couldn’t unravel now. They’d taken their stand and had to persevere.

“Mom, Madeline came to me for a loan a little over a year ago,” he said, leaning an elbow on the table.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“It means she doesn’t have a lot of money. And this guy Solozano can’t be cheap.”

“So?”

“So she’ll have to send him packing before he’s had time to do anything.” He’d poured more confidence into those words than he actually felt. If Madeline was as certain of Hunter’s ability as Clay was, she’d be loath to let him go. But he wasn’t about to admit that to his mother.

“She hasn’t returned my calls in the past few days,” Irene wailed. “Why? She’s never done that before. Do you think she suspects?”

Allie warned her to keep her voice down, and Clay checked on Whitney again.

This time his stepdaughter turned when she heard the creak of the floorboards and smiled brightly at him. “Hi, Daddy. Want to watch the rest of Madagascar with me?”

“After Grandma leaves, okay?” he said.

She nodded and immediately returned her attention to the television while he walked back into the kitchen. “Madeline feels guilty for bringing him here in the first place,” he said, his voice a low murmur. “That’s why she hasn’t called.”

“She should feel guilty. Think what this could do to us!”

Exchanging a concerned glance with his wife, he sat down and took her hands. “Mom, you have to listen to me.”

“What?”

“Calm down, okay? You’re too worked up. We’ll get through this the way we’ve gotten through everything else—by keeping our wits about us.”

“But it won’t end,” she said. “It just goes on and on and on.”

“Daddy?” Whitney called.

Clay sat up straight. “What, baby?”

“Is Grandma crying?”

“No, honey. She’s just worried about—”

“The eye guy?” Whitney broke in.

“The eye guy?” he repeated to Allie.

Allie frowned. “P.I.?”

With a sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Whitney had heard about the discovery of the Cadillac at school and had already asked him about the man the other kids were saying he “killed.” He’d convinced her it was all untrue. But if this got away from him, she might see her new stepfather go to jail…

“Grandma’s been hearing some of the rumors you were told at school, that’s all,” he said.

“Oh. Don’t worry, Grandma,” she called. “Daddy wouldn’t hurt anybody.”

Clay exchanged another look with Allie, then lowered his voice even more. “You can’t come over here again when you’re this upset, okay?” he said to his mother. “If you need to talk, call me.”

“No one’s willing to listen,” his mother said as tears filled her eyes.

“Pull yourself together!”

At the steel in his voice, his mother stood.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Home.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he warned. “Don’t do anything at all.”

“But I can’t take it anymore!” she burst out.

“You have to.” Clay took her by the shoulders and forced her to focus on him. “We don’t have any choice.”

Madeline sat on the visitor’s side of her own desk. Hunter leaned against the wall closest to her. And Kirk stood at the window, staring moodily out at the street. Pontiff had called him as soon as Madeline said he’d told her to listen to her messages. The police chief wanted to know why Kirk had been so interested.

Madeline was pretty sure her ex-boyfriend had nothing to do with the message. Still, it was difficult having Hunter and Kirk in the same room. And she couldn’t stomach the constant repetition of those grating words on her answering machine. Chief Pontiff was playing the sickening message over and over again in hopes of recognizing the voice or isolating some irregularity of speech that might give the caller away.

“Maybe you should go home,” Hunter said to her, his manner gentle. “I’ll deal with this and have Chief Pontiff drop me by your place later.”

“You’ll deal with this?” Kirk cried. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

Hunter shoved off from the wall to face him. “Can’t you see what this is doing to her?”

Madeline squeezed her eyes shut. “Stop it! I’m not going anywhere.” She felt weak and clammy, but she wanted to know who’d left that message. And she kept thinking that maybe, if she listened one more time, she’d be able to compensate for the voice distortion and come up with a name.

“So you have no idea who this is?” Pontiff finally stopped the recorder and pinned Kirk with a meaningful stare.

“Of course I don’t!” Kirk nearly shouted. “Toby, you know me. Why would I be behind something like this?”

“We’ve all heard about the break-up, Kirk. Maybe you’re angry and looking for a target.”

“I wouldn’t hurt her,” he said. “I’d never hurt her.”

“So why’d you tell her to listen to her messages?”

“Not because I knew about this.” He threw up an impatient hand. “Her mother had just called me and said she hadn’t been able to reach Maddy all day. I saw the car parked out front, so I stopped by to let her know. That’s all.”

Madeline believed he’d also stopped by hoping they’d have a chance to talk after their confrontation that morning. They’d been friends for years, so the animosity between them felt unnatural. But then he’d found Hunter about to kiss her…

“Why aren’t you asking him who it is?” Kirk asked, motioning to Hunter. “He’s the one who’s supposed to be solving the mystery, right?”

Hunter didn’t bother to respond. He merely folded his arms and regarded Kirk dispassionately.

“I don’t need him,” Pontiff said. “I can handle my own work.”