Dead Giveaway

by Brenda Novak

  “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.

  “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. 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. She’d seen a copy of an old family photo in the file, but it was blurry and over a quarter of a century old. “As I explained to your wife, I’m from Stillwater, a little town in—”

  “I know where you’re from,” he said. “And I know why you’re calling. But I don’t think I’ll be able to help you. My wife s
aid you have a few questions regarding the disappearance of some man I’ve never met.”

  Allie heard a trace of resentment in those last four words, beneath a thin veneer of good humor. “Not some man, Mr. Montgomery,” she clarified. “We’re talking about your ex-wife’s second husband.”

  “I’m afraid I never knew him. I haven’t spoken to Irene since I left.”

  “Not once?”

  “Not once.”

  “So you don’t know that your family’s suffered through a great deal of suspicion and doubt concerning the disappearance of Lee Barker?”

  “No, I don’t. What I do know is that Irene isn’t the kind of person who’d harm anyone. That’s all I can tell you. I’m sorry if you were hoping otherwise.”

  “I wasn’t hoping otherwise, Mr. Montgomery. I’m just searching for the facts.”

  “Isn’t it a bit late for an investigation?” he asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Surely after nineteen years—”

  “Nineteen years?” Allie interrupted, her breath lodged in her throat.

  Silence fell over the line as if he’d suddenly realized his blunder, then he said, “It’s been that long since I left.”

  “But you moved away when Clay was only ten years old.” She could’ve used the actual date instead of Clay’s age, but she wanted to remind Lucas of the little boy he’d abandoned.

  “I’m not positive about that.”

  “You don’t remember how old your son was?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “It’s been twenty-five years. A sixteen-year-old boy is quite different from a ten-year-old.”

  “Guess I lost count.”

  “So it’s merely a coincidence that the nineteen years you just mentioned correlates perfectly with the length of time Reverend Barker’s been gone?”

  “I told you, I don’t know anything about Reverend Barker!”

  “Then it’s even more amazing that you guessed the year he went missing, isn’t it?”

  There was a slight pause. “Listen, you—you’re heading down the wrong road,” he said. It was easy to tell that she’d managed to rattle him. “Like I said, Irene wouldn’t hurt anybody. She’s a good woman.”

  Yet he’d turned his back on her….

  “Is it possible you know more than you’re saying, Mr. Montgomery?”

  “Are you calling me a liar?” he retorted.

  For the first time, Allie wondered if he could’ve had something to do with Barker’s disappearance. Could he have come back, found another man in his place, fought with that man and possibly killed him? That would certainly explain why Lucas Montgomery had made himself scarce for so long.

  The thought came as a relief to Allie. She would much rather it was Clay’s father than Clay. “I’m just doing my job,” she replied. “Can you tell me where you were the night the reverend disappeared?”

  “Yes. I have an airtight alibi. So don’t go trying to pin his death on me.”

  Allie’s hand tightened on the receiver. “I didn’t say he was dead.”

  No response.

  “Mr. Montgomery?”

  “After so long, I think it’s safe to make that assumption, don’t you?” he said. “Anyway, I’ve been in Alaska for twenty years, and you can’t prove I ever left. No airplane tickets. No train tickets. No gas receipts.”

  “I see you’ve been watching your share of Forensic Files.”

  “I’ve sat through a few.”

  “So you’ve never been back to see your children?”

  Silence.

  “Do you need me to speak up?” she asked.

  “I heard you.”

  “And?”

  “I haven’t been back, okay?”

  “Well, as far as I’m concerned, that’s as much of a crime as anything else.” She had no business passing judgment on him. But her own experience with Sam’s rejection of Whitney and what she’d sensed in Clay last night put her too close to the situation.

  “Go to hell,” he said and hung up.

  Allie returned the phone to its cradle. She hadn’t handled that call as professionally as she should have. But she’d caught him lying to her. She was positive of it. Now she just needed to figure out why.

  Whitney looked up at her. “Was that Daddy, Mommy?”

  “No,” she said. “It was someone a lot like him.”

  8

  Reverend Portenski gripped the sides of the pulpit as he gave his weekly sermon, enjoying his own message—until he saw Clay Montgomery slip into the back of the church. The man scarcely made a sound as he came in and sat several rows behind everyone else—but it took only one person to notice him. Then the rumble of voices rose, and heads began to turn. Clay tolerated the attention with more dignity than he was ever credited with possessing. He stared straight ahead and ignored what was going on around him. But that didn’t mean he liked it. Who would?

  After a slight nod in his direction, a welcome Portenski forced himself to offer each and every time Clay showed up, he let his eyes seek out other parishioners with whom he felt more comfortable. Clay was an intimidating man. He’d probably seen and done things Portenski didn’t even want to consider. The pictures in that dark hole explained why. But if Clay was as guilty as everyone believed, even the church couldn’t bring him peace.

  “Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.”

  The confused expressions of those in the audience told Portenski he’d just spoken those words out loud, right in the middle of a persuasive argument on succoring the needy.

  Clearing his throat to give himself a split second to gather his scattered thoughts, he recovered by telling his listeners that it wasn’t their place to judge whether or not a beggar deserved his current circumstances. “We should never turn away the needy. For aren’t we all beggars before God?”

  Several people murmured, “Amen.” Portenski smiled approvingly and continued preaching—while trying to avoid Clay’s piercing gaze. In another fifty minutes, he’d be rid of Mr. Montgomery, he told himself. And chances were good Clay wouldn’t show up next week. His attendance was sporadic at best. But when the closing prayer ended, Clay didn’t immediately walk out, as usual. He stood at the back, waiting.

  Folding his arms, Clay leaned one shoulder against the wall as the rest of the congregation filed past him. Most people refused to even look at him. Joe’s father muttered under his breath that he had no right to be standing in a church with decent people. Joe’s mother and her friends glared at him shamelessly. But Clay didn’t acknowledge them. He’d seen Allie McCormick’s mother escort Allie’s daughter out a few minutes before the service ended, saw the little girl turn and wave to her mother, so he knew Allie had come. He wanted to catch a glimpse of her badly enough to wait around. And, after what Grace had told him, he was hoping for a chance to speak to the reverend.

  But it was Beth Ann who approached him as soon as she could cut through the crowd flowing toward the exit.

  “Clay, it’s so good to see you,” she said.

  “Good to see you, too.” His response was automatic and subdued, but he regretted saying even that much when she pounced on the opportunity to read more into it.

  “Really? Do you mean that?”

  The longing in her voice made Clay uncomfortable. He wanted to say something to make the situation less painful for her, but being nice only gave her false hope.

  “Listen, Beth Ann, I’m sorry—” he started, but a third voice interrupted before he could finish.

  “Of course he means it. Clay likes to see all his friends. I’m glad you could make it to church today, Mr. Montgomery.”

  Surprised that Allie would involve herself, he turned to find her coming toward him from the other side. When their eyes met, she grinned, letting him know she’d rescued him on purpose.

  “Officer McCormick,” he said with a nod. Clay supposed he should smile politely and leave it at that, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering over her. She looked so pretty,
so…wholesome in her white blouse and skirt. For a moment he completely forgot she wasn’t the most beautiful woman in the world.

  “What’s going on?” Beth Ann asked, glancing between them.

  Clay regarded her blankly, hoping to defuse her apparent jealousy, but it was too late.

  “Are you hoping for your turn in his bed?” she asked Allie, instantly suspicious.

  “You’re in a church,” Clay reminded her, but Beth Ann didn’t seem to care.

  Allie responded with far less than the denial Beth Ann had obviously hoped to provoke. “What I’d really like is a few lessons in pool,” she said.

  “Pool?” Beth Ann repeated, confusion wrinkling her normally smooth forehead.

  Allie nodded. “Yes—billiards. Clay definitely knows how to play.”

  “That’s not the only game he’s good at,” Beth Ann said. “If you’re not careful, he’ll hurt you, too.”

  Allie merely smiled. “If he doesn’t want to tutor me, I’ll learn from someone else.”

  “Until you realize there is no one else, at least no one like him,” Beth Ann said sulkily and walked away.

  Embarrassed, Clay wasn’t sure what to say in the wake of such a departure. So he rubbed a hand over his jaw and waited for Allie to break the awkward silence.

  “That was some endorsement,” she said.

  He tried to shrug it off. “She didn’t grow up here, remember?”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I guess I have her fooled.”

  “Today. Considering the call she made from your farm, she tends to vacillate.”

  “She’s not as bad as the past week might suggest.”

  Allie’s smile changed, grew thoughtful. “That’s generous of you.”

  “It’s true,” he said simply.

  “I guess she’s telling everyone she’s ready to marry and settle down.”

  “I’ve heard.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his chinos. “She’ll make someone a good wife.”

  “Someone?”

  “Someone else.”

  “Why not you?”

  “She can’t play pool,” he teased. “When do you want your first lesson?”

  Allie lifted her chin. “How much is it going to cost me?”