Dead Right (Stillwater Trilogy #3)(53)
Author: Brenda Novak

“That was amazing. You’re amazing.”

“Stop it.” She laughed for the first time that day. “We were talking about you for a change.”

“I was there, too.”

She wasn’t likely to forget. She could hardly breathe just remembering. But remembering wasn’t going to make it any easier to leave him at the motel tonight.

“Why didn’t your parents like Antoinette if they didn’t even know she was a stripper?” she asked.

He sobered reluctantly. “She stole a piece of my mother’s jewelry. My mother called me once I returned to school, terribly upset and full of accusations. I got angry that she could even think Antoinette would do such a thing. I was sure my mother was looking for any excuse to split us up, and I said so.” His smile revealed more chagrin than anything else. “But in the end, my folks were right. I found my mother’s diamond necklace in Antoinette’s lingerie drawer three months later.”

Madeline tucked her hair behind her ears. “That’s horrible. You must’ve felt awful.”

“I did.”

“And yet you married her. Didn’t the fact that she’d stolen from your mother make you doubt her character?”

“By the time the truth came out, I’d grown up enough to understand that sex isn’t the same as love.”

With Kirk she’d had the opposite experience. They had friendship and respect, but no sexual chemistry. Not like she’d experienced with Hunter. “So did you break up for a while?”

“I was going to break up for good. But it was the week of finals when I finally decided I was through, and I didn’t want to say anything to Antoinette until my exams were over.”

“Because you needed to focus on studying?”

“No, we were living together and I wanted to finish the semester before she went crazy on me. When I tried to break up one other time, she flipped out—threatened to harm herself.”

“I bet your parents were relieved you’d soon be rid of her.”

“I didn’t tell them. My relationship with my parents had grown worse and worse, mostly because I was still with Antoinette. But I was stubborn enough to insist that I was an adult and should be able to see whoever I wanted.”

“Typical male.”

“Thanks for your support,” he said sarcastically.

“No problem.” She smiled. “So how did you wind up marrying her? You were about to break up.”

He cradled his cup in his hands. “I was, that very next weekend. But—” his own smile disappeared “—that was when she told me she was pregnant.”

What a blow that must’ve been. “And marriage was your solution?” she breathed.

“I thought it was the right thing to do.”

“Because of your folks?”

“No. They agreed with my decision, but I’m the one who made it.”

She leaned closer. “Did they really think that kind of marriage would work? Did you?”

“It was my responsibility to make it work—for the sake of my daughter.”

“For the sake of your daughter…” She toyed with her spoon. “Were you ever happy together? You and Antoinette?”

He fell silent for a few seconds. She could tell by the sudden tightness around his mouth that he wasn’t interested in talking about it anymore. But she was curious.

“Hunter?” she said when it became apparent that she’d lost him to his thoughts.

“Maria was worth any sacrifice,” he said with a shrug.

“Maria’s your daughter?”

He nodded.

“Where is she now?”

Abruptly, he stood and grabbed the check the waitress had left. “Let’s go,” he said. “Now that we know I’m staying, it’s time for me to meet Grace.”

Madeline wasn’t any happier about taking Hunter to see Grace than she’d been about going to the farm. Especially after what he’d said at Aunt Elaine’s and at Clay’s. She was afraid he’d soon alienate her from everyone she’d always loved, and yet her feet were now set on a path from which she couldn’t deviate. There was nothing to do but march forward, and pray that her search wouldn’t cost her as much as she feared.

Since their meeting at the police station, relations between her and Grace were already a little awkward, which didn’t make this visit any easier. Madeline had called Grace the day after they’d identified those panties, hoping to offer her love, support, condolences—anything Grace might need. But Grace had insisted she was fine, that the presence of her panties in that bag meant nothing to her.

Nothing…Yet she’d gone stark white at the police station. And she hadn’t called Madeline since, although they usually talked several times a week.

“This is quite a place,” Hunter said, gazing up at Grace and Kennedy’s historic mansion.

Madeline’s eyes moved over the sweeping lawns and immaculate gardens, which looked even more perfect beneath the glow of a full moon. The lights shining warmly through the windows created an appealing effect, like the front of a Christmas card. Yet Madeline was afraid to approach. What more lay in store for her this day?

“It’s just as pretty inside,” she said and turned off the engine. That Grace had come from one of the poorest families in town and married into one of the richest made her and Kennedy’s love affair a sort of Cinderella story. This was Grace’s castle, the nicest home in Stillwater.

But Madeline was beginning to wonder if Grace’s childhood had been worse than anyone, including her, had ever guessed.

“What are we waiting for?” Hunter prompted when she didn’t get out right away.

“Nothing.” Buttoning her coat against what was becoming a blustery night, she climbed out.

When she came around the car, Hunter stood at the end of the walkway. “Is Grace as tough as her brother?” he asked wryly.

“In some ways.” Grace wasn’t as intimidating as Clay or Madeline’s aunt, but she could be every bit as aloof. And because Hunter would no doubt be perceived as a threat to Clay, Grace would never trust him. “Not quite so direct.”

“But just as stubborn.” He’d obviously picked up on the cautious note in her voice.

“Grace hides her feelings behind a cool, courteous manner.”

“You mean she protects herself from others by remaining detached.”

Madeline couldn’t help appreciating his perception. But that perception, that intellect she’d begun to respect, frightened her. Because respecting his opinions meant that if he came to her with the worst possible news, she’d have to believe him. “Yes. It’s a survival tactic she learned early on. Probably the result of all the judgment and censure she had to endure once my father disappeared.”