Dead Giveaway (33 page)

"She's planning to post a notice in the paper, offering a reward for any information leading to the arrest of the man who shot you."

"Who's putting up the reward?"

"Kennedy."

Clay studied her. "What do Kennedy's parents have to say about that?"

"We didn't ask them. We don't care. You're family to Kennedy now."

Clay shook his head. "He'll do anything for you."

She finally smiled. "Yes, but he's doing this for you."

"So my defense team consists of an ex-assistant district attorney with a new baby, my overwrought mother, a stepsister who can't know the real truth and a cop I got fired."

"So far."

He stretched his neck. "That's quite a team."

She regarded him steadily. "It's better than you make it sound. Allie's definitely an asset."

"Too bad you have to fire her," he said.

Grace rubbed a finger over her bottom lip. "I know it's risky to include her, but--"

He leaned forward. "Risky? It's idiotic! Are you trying to beat the charges or put me away for good?" Clay had more pressing reasons to get her off the case--but he didn't want to tell Grace just how much he cared about Allie.

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"Clay, she'll keep digging whether we join forces with her or not. After Mom and Madeline left last night, she told me about the note someone left at the cabin, and that she found Jed's baseball cap nearby."

"
Jed's?
That has to be a mistake."

"It's not."

"But Jed wouldn't shoot me. And he'd have no reason to leave Allie that note."

"Allie thinks it's a setup."

"What would anyone have to gain by implicating Jed?"

"It's a way to obfuscate the truth, a way to send anyone who's trying to track down the real offender on a wild-goose chase. And whoever doesn't like you probably doesn't like Jed, either. So he's expendable. After all, his insistence that our dear old stepdad didn't come home that night is what's stood between you and prosecution all these years."

"That and the fact that they have no physical evidence," Clay pointed out dryly.

"At this stage, it's not about evidence. It's about an old grudge."

Sobering, Clay moved closer to the table. He'd lose his mind if they sent him to prison. He could take almost anything, but he couldn't take being locked up. "I know."

"Allie thinks, and I agree, that our opponents might be trying to lean on Jed, to tell him they won't go after him for attempted murder or some other charge if he'll testify against you."

Clay frowned. He wasn't sure why Jed Fowler had been such a good friend to them, but the mechanic had to know more about the night Barker died than he'd ever said. Otherwise, he wouldn't have tried to confess when they dug up Butch's bones, which Clay had purposely relocated after he'd moved Barker's body to the cellar. "We've never had a close relationship with Jed. We don't even know why he's stood by us. Which makes him a question mark. We can't predict what he'll do."

She toyed with the pen she'd dropped a moment earlier. "Allie said something else that concerns me."

"What's that?" Clay was growing more agitated. He'd expected to be up against the circumstantial evidence he already knew about. He'd had no idea there'd be more. Whoever was out to get him was going to great lengths to insure he went away for life.

"She asked Mom if Jed's ever seen her with another man."

A jolt of alarm brought Clay to his feet. "Why would she ask that?"

"She believes Jed's secretly admired Mom for years."

"We've guessed as much."

"True. But listen to this. She thinks we'll be okay--unless Jed's become disaffected with her for some reason."

Clay paced the small room. "Is she suggesting that's already happened?"

"No, but she's wondering about it."

Muttering another curse, Clay shook his head. Little did Allie know Irene
had
been seeing another man--
her own father
. She was going to get hurt. He could feel it coming and chafed at his helplessness to stop it. "This just gets better and better, doesn't it?"

The jingle of her cell phone woke Allie from a deep sleep. She fumbled through her bedding, searching for it, and nearly knocked the lamp off her nightstand. It wasn't until she heard her daughter running toward her, the ring growing louder, that she realized she'd left it out in the kitchen and Whitney was bringing it to her.

Rubbing her eyes, she rolled over as her daughter reached the side of her bed, saw that it 153

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was broad daylight and panicked. "Oh, no! Are we late?"

"For what?" Whitney asked.

"For school!"

Her daughter laughed. "It's Saturday, silly. I don't have school on Saturday."

"Right. Thank goodness." Taking the phone, Allie slumped back onto her pillows and covered the mouthpiece while she asked Whitney what she was doing.

"Watching cartoons," Whitney said and ran into the living room.

Allie watched her go, relieved to see that she seemed to be adjusting to the move, then put the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Allie?"

It was her mother. Which came as no surprise. Since she'd moved out, Evelyn checked in with her often and brought more furniture each time. "Hi, what's up?"

"Why didn't you wake me when you picked up Whitney last night?"

"I didn't want to disturb you."

"I wouldn't have minded."

"There wasn't any need."

"But it would've given us a chance to talk."

Her father had been at home. Allie hadn't been eager to wake anyone. "We can talk now, can't we?"

"I guess," she said. "How are things over there? Do you have enough to eat?"

"We're fine."

"Maybe we should go out today and get some groceries--a few staples. Then I won't have to worry so much about you. It might take a while to find work, you know."

Allie considered the job she'd just accepted. She knew her mother wouldn't be pleased to hear that she was helping with Clay's defense, but she didn't see any point in trying to hide it.

Gossip being what it was in Stillwater, Evelyn and everyone else would probably know by the end of the day.

"Actually, I already have a job," she said.

Evelyn immediately pounced on that. "
Really?
Wonderful. Where?"

Allie swallowed a groan. "I'm helping Grace with Clay's case."

Silence. Allie gripped the phone a little tighter but refused to speak first. Finally, Evelyn said, "You're kidding, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not."

"Allie, this...this obsession of yours with Clay Montgomery has gone far enough, don't you think?"

"Obsession?"

Her mother ignored her. "It's up to the courts to decide his fate now."

"How can they come to the right conclusion without the facts, Mom?"

"What facts? You're a good detective, Allie. But even you haven't been able to come up with anything new."

"I can't give up. Someone just tried to kill him. What's going on is not as clear-cut as everyone would like to believe."

"You know it was Joe who shot Clay. So take your old job back and go after him. He deserves it. But then forget about Clay."

"I'm not convinced it
was
Joe."

"Then you should be. When I was at the Piggly Wiggly a few minutes ago, I heard Joe's 154

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ex-wife tell Francine Eastman she thinks Joe has your gun. She said she stopped by to get some money he owes her and saw something that looked like a gun at his house."

"Why hasn't she reported it?"

"There's been nothing but trouble between those two. And she's just getting her life back.

She doesn't want to step into the middle of this."

"No one does! But what's happening is a farce. All the people who've been out to get Clay are finally gaining the upper hand. And I'm not going to watch the Vincellis and others with a personal agenda use the law for their own purposes."

"Can't you see what Clay's doing?" Evelyn argued. "Do you think he's been lavishing his attention on you because he
likes
you?"

Allie felt her jaw drop but was too offended to be able to respond right away.

"Clay doesn't like anyone," her mother went on. "He's using you. He knows he needs allies--solid, reputable allies--so he's trying to elicit your support, hoping you can save him. And he doesn't care if he ruins you in the process."

"That's not true," Allie said. "Clay doesn't suck up to anyone, for any reason. He doesn't even want me in his life. He told me--" What good would it do to explain this to her mother? The people of Stillwater wanted a scapegoat and they thought they'd found the perfect candidate.

"Never mind."

"Think about the number of women he's slept with," Evelyn said. "You're just another conquest to him. A calculated conquest because now, in addition to getting exactly what he wanted from you at the cabin, you're going to help him."

Allie hung up. She knew she shouldn't. Her mother was her last support. But Allie was so angry, she couldn't stop herself.

"Mommy?" Whitney called.

Allie forced back the rush of emotions that were assaulting her all at once. "What, honey?"

"Did Boppo ask you?"

"Ask me what?"

"If I can stay with her tonight?"

Allie didn't know what to say. They hadn't gotten that far.

"Did she?" Whitney pressed.

The phone rang again. Allie answered instead of answering her daughter.

"Are you really choosing Clay over your family?" her mother asked.

Allie cursed silently. "Of course not."

"You are if you're going to help the Montgomerys. Your father will take it as a personal affront, and although I've tried to remain neutral, this will compel me to choose his side. Do you realize that? I have to be loyal to my husband."

"This isn't about loyalty. At least not entirely. I need the job," Allie said.

"If you weren't being so stubborn, you could go back to work for your father."

Working for the police department would give her a lot more stability. She'd have a long-term income and benefits, which she wasn't going to get helping Grace. And she had Whitney to think of. Her responsibility to her daughter and the emotional pressure she faced from everyone else would make it infinitely easier to fall in line with her parents.

Except that no one seemed to care about actually
solving
the case. They wanted someone to punish for Barker's disappearance so that the Vincellis would finally be satisfied and everyone could go on with their lives. And, unlike his mother and sisters, Clay was defiant, angry. In fact, the depth of the anger running through him was a little frightening at times. That made it easy for 155

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some people to believe he was capable of such a crime. But Allie cared about the truth.

Or maybe she just cared about Clay.

"I can't," she said.

"Not even for Whitney's sake?" Evelyn asked.

Allie hugged her extra pillow to her chest. "I'll make sure she gets everything she needs."

"But she loves us. Putting a rift between you and us will hurt her."

"Mom, we don't even know what happened to Barker. Clay deserves a fair trial, don't you think?"

Her mother's voice rose. "He'll have his sister to defend him. She's never lost a case."

"She's never had so much at stake before, or been up against odds like this!"

"Let her deal with it! She'll be fine without you."

"I have to do what I think is right," Allie insisted.

There was a long silence, then her mother said, "Are you sure it's your conscience you're trying to satisfy?" And this time it was Evelyn who hung up.

"Mom-my?"
Whitney wailed, losing patience. "Why won't you answer me?"

Allie wanted to throw her phone across the room but set it gently on the nightstand instead.

"I'm sorry, honey," she called back. "You can't stay with Boppo tonight. She forgot that she already has other plans."

"But she just asked me! We were going to bake cookies!"

"Why don't I see if your friend Emily can spend the night with us?"

"What about Boppo?" Whitney asked.

"Maybe you can go there next week," Allie said. "But it's not looking good," she muttered to herself. Then she turned her thoughts to what her mother had said about her gun. Cindy thought she'd seen it at Joe's house? Considering that Joe had the strongest motivation to shoot Clay,
and
he had no alibi, she thought the police could establish probable cause for a search warrant. But the situation being what it was, she knew she'd never convince her father to try. He wouldn't act against the Vincellis right now. No one would.

And that meant she had to do something herself, and she had to do it fast--before Joe got rid of the evidence.

"Whitney?" she called.

"What, Mommy?"

"We'll make arrangements for you to stay with Emily, instead. Okay?"

Dale stood in the shed where he kept his tools and glanced at his watch. He'd just finished edging the lawn. It was part of his Saturday-morning routine, a routine that usually relaxed him.

But he was growing anxious. Irene should've received the flowers by now. Typically, she responded right away when he gave her something; he was hoping that was still the case. He had to see her. If they could be together, even if it was just one more time, it'd be easier to deal with everything else going on in his life. His estrangement from Allie. The mayor and the Vincellis interfering with his job. The shooting at the cabin.

Wiping his hands on a paper towel that he promptly tossed in the trash can by the door, he reached into his pocket for his cell phone and dialed the voice-mail account he'd set up for her use.

Sure enough, he had a message.

Feeling a tremor of hope, he pressed "one" to hear it.

But his wife's voice intruded, coming from behind him. "Dale, what's taking you so long out here?"

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He turned to find Evelyn standing in the doorway. He was tempted to close the phone and shove it in his pocket, but Evelyn trusted him so much she wasn't particularly nosy. And Irene was beginning to mention the "beautiful roses."