Dead Right (Stillwater Trilogy #3)(61)
Author: Brenda Novak

Mad-dy…it’s dad-dy…

The first part of that message had been even crueler than the last, because that was the part she longed to believe—that he’d suddenly call her or appear after all these years.

She moved from window to window, imagining what it’d be like to see her father again. Maybe they were wrong, all of them, and he was out there somewhere. Maybe someone had hit him over the head and stolen his wallet, and he’d awakened with amnesia…

It wasn’t likely. But it was possible. And sometimes possible was enough to cling to, wasn’t it? Then Irene, Clay, Grace and Molly would be cleared. Madeline would have them in her life, without the doubts. And she’d have her father, too. The driving need to reclaim what she’d lost would then be satisfied.

But it wasn’t realistic to hope for such an ending. She had a feeling she had a visitor, but she knew better than to believe it was her father.

Clay was tempted to ignore the ringing phone. He had Allie in his arms and was trying desperately to reassure himself that he’d always have Allie—even though there was a body buried in his cellar. But after the letter he’d received earlier, he didn’t dare ignore a late-night summons. Anyone who tried to reach him at midnight had to be calling for a reason.

He just hoped it wasn’t his mother, with more histrionics.

“Not now,” Allie groaned.

He kissed the delicate spot beneath her ear and reluctantly pulled away from the soft warmth of her body. “Sorry.” Throwing back the covers, he grabbed the phone. “Hello?”

“It’s Hunter Solozano.”

“I’m busy,” he said, already missing his wife. They wanted a baby, but now Clay was almost afraid to make one. If he went to prison, he didn’t want to do it knowing Allie was pregnant with a child he’d never get to help her raise. Losing Whitney would destroy him as it was.

“We need to meet.”

Clay froze, his senses on full alert. “Why?”

“You’ll see.”

“Where?”

“I’m at the motel.”

“Do you have a car?”

“I have Madeline’s.”

“Then meet me at the pool hall in twenty minutes. If I’m going out, I’m having a drink,” he said and hung up.

Allie ran a hand over his chest as he turned back to her. “You have to go?”

Clay hated to leave her, although he no longer felt like making love. Why would Madeline’s P.I. want to talk to him?

He had no idea. But he couldn’t refuse. Hunter was a wild card.

Hunter could change everything.

A bang woke Madeline from a deep sleep. She sat up and blinked at the papers she’d wrinkled by slumping onto the desk in her small office.

What time was it? How long had she been sleeping?

Pulling the clock toward her, she rubbed her bleary eyes, then realized she was looking at the date and not the time and switched modes. It was just after midnight. She couldn’t have been sleeping for more than half an hour.

She was exhausted. So what had disturbed her? Sophie? No. The cat was sleeping at her feet. Cocking her head, she listened carefully for several minutes but heard no sound.

She’d probably had another bad dream. She could even remember part of it. She’d heard a car pull up out front, the purr of an engine, followed by silence. Then she’d turned around, and her father was standing in her living room, smiling and holding out his arms as if she was still the little girl he’d left behind.

She didn’t get a chance to ask him where he’d been, though. The dream ended before he could speak.

The comfort of her bed beckoned. She wasn’t sure what had awakened her, but earlier she’d thought there was a noise—and it had turned out to be nothing. She was nervous, jumpy. She’d tried to channel her unease into work, but hadn’t gotten very far.

With a sigh, she got up and walked toward the kitchen to get a glass of water, but a rustle in the next room made her heart leap into her throat. This noise wasn’t coming from outside. And it wasn’t Sophie. Sophie was at her heels but she hadn’t made a sound.

Was it Hunter? Had he come back?

She waited, expecting him to call her name. But he didn’t.

“Hunter?” she said. “Is that you?”

No answer. What was going on? Someone was in the house. She was sure of it. If it wasn’t Hunter…was it Mike?

Thrusting a hand through her tousled hair, she peered cautiously around the corner. She could see part of the kitchen and living room, as well as a portion of the entry. But she couldn’t see whoever had made the noise. Because she’d been so nervous before, she’d left the lights on for comfort, but now she felt exposed. Vulnerable. Whoever it was might have been looking inside the house, seen her sleeping.

Heart thumping loudly in her ears, she reached for the closest light switch.

The thud of heavy footsteps nearly made her knees give out. The intruder had been near the front entry. But now he was in the living room; she could tell by the movement.

Sophie darted back into the study, but Madeline couldn’t let him catch her there. She’d be trapped.

Ducking, she ran out and caught a glimpse of someone’s shadow flitting toward the kitchen. She wished she had her cell phone, but she’d left it on the counter earlier—in the kitchen, where her uninvited visitor was now. Grabbing one of the antique colored bottles that lined a shelf on the wall, she turned off the light switch for the living room, plunging it into darkness, too. Then she pressed herself to the wall and tried to peek around the corner.

Whoever it was had moved again. She couldn’t see anyone. He was most likely against the same wall she was, but she felt too afraid to come farther into the doorway. Why give him an advantage? She’d be smarter to draw him toward her—and her only weapon. “Who are you and what do you want?” she cried.

Again, nothing. Panting with fear, she broke the bottle by smashing it on the wall, and held it in front of her. This can’t be happening, she thought. But her earlier conversation with Molly kept echoing in her brain. Are you scared of him?

She was scared, all right. She’d never been more scared in her life.

“Mike, unless you want to go back to prison, I suggest you get the hell out of my house,” she said. “Why do you think so many lights were on? I’m waiting up for the man you saw earlier, the private investigator. He just went out for a drink and should be back any minute. He’s staying with me, you know.”