Authors: Brenda Novak
He sat next to her. "Where're the boys?"
"Fishing with their father one last time before the baby gets here."
"What if you go into labor while they're gone?"
"They're not far, just down at the old Hatfield pond. And Kennedy's got his pager with him." Kicking off her sandals, Grace tucked her feet beneath her and leaned her head on his shoulder.
"I'll get you dirty," he warned.
"I don't care." She seemed so peaceful and content as she closed her eyes and let him swing her that he began to feel guilty about the dissatisfaction he felt with his own life. At least his sister was happy. How many years had she suffered because he hadn't looked out for her the way he should have? "I didn't know Kennedy had a pager," he said.
"He didn't until last week. He went out and bought one because he doesn't trust his cell phone. I'm supposed to call both the minute I go into labor."
Clay chuckled and continued to move the swing. "You'll remember to call me as soon as Junior arrives, won't you?"
"Of course."
"Have you decided on a name?"
"If it's a girl, she'll be Lauren Elizabeth."
"Nice. But I'm predicting a boy."
Her smile grew shy as she sat up. "Then he'll be Isaiah Clayton."
He studied her in surprise. "After me?"
She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. "If you don't mind."
"Why?"
"Because you're such a good brother."
A lump swelled in his throat, making it difficult to talk.
They rocked in silence for a moment. Then she nudged him. "I hear Allie McCormick is searching for Dad."
He nodded.
"What a relief he doesn't know anything that can hurt us."
Clay glanced at her but kept his mouth shut. Irene hadn't told Grace? Considering Grace's situation, he was glad. She didn't need the worry. She'd been through enough, and none of it had been her fault. "Yeah, what a relief," he echoed.
"Do you think she'll find him?"
He stared at his greasy hands. "She already has."
She put her feet down to stop the swaying motion. "Where is he?"
"Alaska."
"What's he doing all the way up there?"
"He's remarried."
The expression on her face momentarily revealed the old fragility. The mention of Lucas had obviously brought back bad memories.
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Reaching out, Clay squeezed her hand despite the grease on his own. "He's not worth the pain," he said softly.
Her smile appeared forced, but she nodded. "Has Allie come snooping around here yet?"
"She's been by, but not because of Barker."
"You're talking about what happened with Beth Ann."
He scowled. "God, is there anyone who
hasn't
heard?"
She laughed and, relieved to see her smile again, he relaxed in the seat.
"She's telling everyone you want a baby, you know," she said, wiping the grease he'd transferred to her on his dirty T-shirt.
"I didn't know. But that's crazy."
She angled her head to size him up. "Is it?"
"Of course. I'm not even married."
"You've been almost as interested in this baby as Kennedy."
"Why wouldn't I be? I'm the kid's uncle."
"Maybe it's time you started thinking about settling down and having some children of your own."
They both knew a man didn't get more settled than he was. Unless he wanted to wind up in prison, he couldn't go anywhere. And he'd be stupid to marry. But he knew it hurt Grace to acknowledge the limitations of his situation, so he played along. "I'm sure I'll know when I meet the right woman."
"Don't let what happened stop you," she said, suddenly fierce.
How could he not let it stop him? He couldn't pretend he
didn't
have the remains of his stepfather buried in the cellar. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm fine as I am."
She stared off into space, toward the barn. He'd torn down the horse stalls to make room for his car shop, but he knew that, for Grace, the barn held the worst memories of all. At one end was the reverend's office, where Barker used to prepare his sermons. It was also where he'd tie Grace up and--
Clay winced, unable to think about it. They'd left that office completely intact for nineteen years, as if they believed he might one day return, until last summer when Grace had finally snapped and torn the place apart. Clay had since boxed up the reverend's belongings and passed them on to Madeline, but that two-hundred square feet of space still felt evil. Clay never went in there.
"What is it?" he asked. Once the memories crowded this close, Grace never lingered--unless she had a good reason.
When she reached for his hand, her fingers were cold, despite the warmth of the sun. "I ran into Reverend Portenski at the drugstore."
"I didn't realize you knew Reverend Portenski." Grace never went to church anymore. Of Irene's three children, she'd once been the most receptive to spiritual guidance. But that was before Barker.
"We've seen each other around town, of course. Usually he won't even look at me, and I ignore him. I guess he hasn't seen my soul as worth saving. Or he knew he'd be wasting his breath, even if he tried. But this last encounter..."
"What?" Clay prompted.
"He approached me with the oddest expression on his face."
"What kind of expression?"
"Sort of pained or filled with regret or...I'm not sure."
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Brenda Novak
"What'd he say?"
"That God knows all things and that his wrath will destroy the wicked."
Clay felt instantly defensive. He was always defensive of Grace. But judging by his own experience with Portenski, what she'd just told him didn't make any sense. "That doesn't sound like him," he said. "When I first started going back to church several months ago, he made sure everyone knew he was fine with having me there. I think some people, like Joe, were trying to convince him I shouldn't be allowed to participate, because he delivered a rather passionate sermon saying it wasn't his place to judge. 'God is the only one who knows the thoughts and intents of each man's heart and reserves judgment for himself,' he said."
"But I didn't get the impression that he was blaming me, Clay. It was almost as if he was trying to tell me that
Barker
will be punished for his sins."
Clay's muscles tensed. "Do you think he knows?"
"I do."
"But how could he? We searched the entire church and personally boxed up everything in Barker's private rooms. The pictures weren't there. What we burned must've been all of them."
"No." They'd had this discussion before. Although it was difficult for Grace to talk about, she always maintained that there had to be more. Barker's fetish included the camera. She claimed he'd taken hundreds of Polaroids.
"Then, where did he hide them?"
"I don't know. But I believe Portenski's found them."
"If that's true, why hasn't he come forward? Used them to put one of us on trial? They certainly establish a strong enough motive."
"They also reveal what a monster Barker was. Maybe Portenski has sympathy for the thirteen-year-old child in those pictures."
She'd spoken as if that thirteen-year-old child was a stranger to her. Clay wondered if that was how she coped, by divorcing herself from the little girl she used to be.
"He said if I ever decide to come back to church, he'd love to see me in his congregation,"
she murmured. "That God can heal all wounds."
"What'd you say?"
"I told him I'll never set foot inside a church again, particularly that one."
"How'd he respond?"
"He nodded, as if he understood, and shuffled away."
Like Grace, Clay had stopped attending church after what had happened with Barker. He'd tried to pretend he didn't need religion in his life, but the beliefs and rituals were too big a part of his upbringing, and he couldn't deny himself indefinitely. Intellectually, he recognized that a preacher could be bad without making the doctrine he taught bad. This understanding was what had led him back. But Clay's emotions sometimes got the better of him and he occasionally walked out in the middle of the sermon, if a word or phrase or even a look reminded him of Barker. The kind of hypocrisy he and his mother and sisters had witnessed changed a person, and once that innocence was lost, there was no reclaiming it.
Grace touched her stomach, and a hint of a smile instantly replaced the haunted expression of a moment earlier.
"The baby's kicking?" Clay asked.
"More like he's rolling over. If your hands were clean I'd let you see for yourself. I know how much you like it."
"Who says I like it?" he teased.
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Brenda Novak
"You might fool other people, but you don't fool me." She laughed. "Are you sure Beth Ann isn't the woman for you?"
"Absolutely." His life seemed to exist in shades of gray, but at least here he was speaking God's honest truth.
"I want you to find someone to love, Clay. I want you to find someone and be as happy as I am."
Her earnest words tugged at his heart. "Quit worrying about me," he said gruffly.
"I can't help it," she said. "I worry about you, Molly, Madeline, Mom." She rolled her eyes.
"Especially Mom."
"I've got Mom covered."
Her eyebrows shot up. "You do? Then why did she just tell me she's going out of town for the weekend?"
He blinked at her. "You're kidding, right?"
"I wish I was."
"With Chief McCormick?" He kept his voice low, in case someone was coming down the driveway.
"She
says
she's going alone, but you and I know that's highly unlikely."
"This wouldn't be happening if she lived here with me."
"She couldn't take living here," Grace said with a grimace. "I don't know how she lasted as long as she did. Or how you do it."
He wouldn't have remained at the farm, either, except that he had no other choice. It was his duty to look after his mother and sisters, and staying was the only way he could do it. "Maybe it wouldn't be fun to have her here all the time, but I'd be able to keep her out of trouble."
"You're both better off living on your own."
As much as Clay felt obligated to take care of his mother, maybe Grace was right. He wasn't sure he could tolerate living with her again. He'd grown too used to rambling around the farm by himself. "How's Chief McCormick getting away from his wife this weekend?"
"I have no idea. How does he do it any time?"
Clay shook his head. "Why won't Mom listen to me?"
"I'm sure she wants to. She just...can't."
"Can't?"
"I couldn't give Kennedy up if my life depended on it."
"Kennedy's your husband. Dale's committed to someone else."
She smoothed her dress. "I'm not saying what Mom's doing is right. I'm saying she's never been so completely in love, and that's why it's tough to make the sacrifice."
"She's more in love with him than she was with our father?"
"Chief McCormick is everything Dad wasn't. Solid, dependable, responsible, down-to-earth."
"He's not exactly a man of sterling character. He's cheating on his wife!"
"Of course that part's not admirable. But it's understandable--to a point. Mom's several years younger and far more attractive than Evelyn. Sex is...new and exciting again, and all that."
"At his age, it's as much about ego as it is about sex," Clay said. "Being able to get Mom probably makes him feel like a real man."
"And Mom's finally found someone who's treating her as if she's special."
"But it can't go anywhere," Clay said. "Imagine the scandal once everyone finds out."
"The backlash will be severe," she agreed, cringing visibly. "I feel so sorry for Kennedy.
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Brenda Novak
Sometimes I wonder if he understood what he was getting into when he married me."
"Don't say that! He's lucky to have you."
"I hope he thinks so after Mom's affair is exposed."
"You say that as if it's inevitable."
"You can vouch for how hard it is to keep a secret in this town."
"Is Kennedy aware of it?"
"Yes. I thought it was only fair to warn him." Standing, she dropped a quick kiss on his cheek, and he knew she'd already stayed at the farm as long as she could tolerate. "Thanks, big brother. I'll try to convince Mom not to go this weekend."
"Good luck," he said. Lord knew that what
he'd
told Irene hadn't made any difference.
She paused on the steps. "By the way, Molly's coming out here for the birth."
"It'll be great to have her back. She hasn't been home since Christmas."
"She's seeing someone new. Have you heard?"
"No. Do you think this relationship's got a future?"
"I doubt it. She's only interested until they start making demands, and then she moves on."
She tossed him a grin. "I wonder where she gets that from."
"Not me," he said.
"If you say so," she scoffed.
"Grace?"
Brushing the loose hair out of her eyes, she glanced back at him. "What?"
"Would you want to talk to Dad if you had the chance?"
She didn't take even a moment to think about it. "No," she said and gave him a final wave.
Allie was at the police station, sorting through the Barker files, when Lucas Montgomery's call came in. She had Whitney with her, coloring near her desk. Her father hadn't stopped by today, thank goodness. They hadn't spoken since breakfast and she wasn't ready to talk to him yet.
Fortunately, he usually didn't work on Saturdays. Two other officers, Grimsman and Pontiff, were on duty, out on patrol.
"Officer McCormick," she said into the phone. Her heart had started to race as soon as she saw the Alaska area code on her caller ID. She wasn't sure why she'd be nervous about talking to Clay's father, but she was.
"This is Lucas Montgomery."
"I recognized the number. I don't get many calls from Alaska. Thanks for phoning me back."
"No problem. What can I do for you?"
She tried to hear Clay in his voice, wondered if the two men looked much alike these days.