by Brenda Novak
“Surely he would never harm…family.”
Judging by the expressions on their faces, they weren’t so sure. They could see that, contrary to Elaine’s assertion, he had hurt children.
“He always seemed so…good,” Elaine said helplessly.
Allie almost felt guilty for the tears welling up in the other woman’s eyes. She wished Barker was around to see the pain and disgust he’d caused. But she doubted he’d care about anything except the destruction of his all-important reputation.
“Why are you showing us these?” Joe demanded. “What do you hope to gain?”
Feeling Clay’s medallion around her neck, Allie kept her focus on the elder Vincellis. They were most likely to consider all the ramifications of these pictures. “Me? I’m here to point out how unfortunate it would be if I had to present these in court,” she said.
“In court?” Elaine repeated, her tears spilling over.
“For everyone to see,” Allie emphasized. “I’m sure all the major newspapers would pick up the story. A sexual sadist, a pedophile, using his position as a man of God to sexually torture young women in a small Mississippi town where that kind of crime is virtually unheard of. It would cause quite a scandal.”
“He’ll become a hiss and a byword,” Elaine whispered, quoting the Bible.
“Why be connected with something like that?” Allie murmured earnestly. “Especially when everyone thinks so highly of your family.” She paused for maximum effect, then continued. “Wouldn’t it be better to leave things as they are? He’s gone. The truth doesn’t have to come out. If only…”
“If only what?” Joe said, his eyes narrowing.
Allie took a deep breath and faced him. “If only you make sure that the case against Clay Montgomery is dropped. No search. No charges. If he killed your uncle, you now know why. Isn’t that enough?” she asked, turning back to Elaine.
Mrs. Vincelli looked as if she was on the verge of passing out. “I’ve always been so…proud of Lee.”
She broke into sobs and Allie waited patiently for Marcus to comfort her. Joe and Roger had gathered up all the copies and were busy tearing them into bits too small to be recognized. “That’s what I think of these,” Joe said.
Allie didn’t reply. She didn’t care what happened to the copies. She only cared about what the Vincellis would decide.
“She won’t do it, Mom,” Joe said. “Clay won’t let her. Think about it. These pictures will hurt Maddy more than us.”
“Maddy!” his mother wailed, apprently just realizing that Barker’s daughter would be crushed, too.
“Don’t you think it’s a shame that Clay’s more concerned about Maddy than you are?” Allie asked Joe.
“Go to hell!” he replied. “You’re not going to pull these out at the last minute. Clay won’t let you.”
Panic coursed through Allie. Evidently, Joe knew Clay better than she’d given him credit for. “This isn’t up to Clay,” she said. “It’s up to me. And I’m going to do everything I can to see that he doesn’t go to prison.”
“You’d hurt Maddy?” Roger asked.
Praying that she’d sound convincing, Allie turned to meet his gaze. “I’d reveal the truth in a heartbeat,” she said without flinching. “One way or another, people are going to be hurt by this trial. That’s what I’m here to stop.”
Joe stepped in front of his parents. “She’s lying.”
Roger joined him. “He’s right. She’s bluffing.”
Elaine lifted tear-filled eyes. “Did Lee do this to…Clay’s sisters?”
“What do you think?” she asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Joe insisted. “We’ve got Clay this time. We’re not going to let him get away.”
Allie held her breath as she waited to see how the older Vincellis would respond. Finally, Marcus turned to his sons. “If a man did this to my sister, I’d kill him, too.”
“We’re talking about murder,” Joe said. “Clay can’t take the law into his own hands.”
“He was only sixteen,” Elaine murmured.
“That’s true.” Allie reached out to take her hand. “And it was an accident.”
Joe stabbed a finger in her direction. “She admitted it! Did you hear her? She knows what happened. She just admitted it!”
Elaine stood up. Her husband had to help her because she was more than a little shaky, but she managed to gather her composure. “I didn’t hear her say anything of the sort, Joseph.”
Joe and Roger both gaped at her. “What?”
“It’s a shame that we’ve made the mistake of accusing an innocent man. I’ll talk to Mayor Nibley and the district attorney tomorrow and make sure we set the record straight.”
Allie stared up at her in disbelief. She’d been banking on the Vincelli pride. But it was a woman’s compassion that would save Clay.
Her throat constricted. “Thank you,” she murmured. “Clay’s a good man. I promise you that.”
“He couldn’t be any worse than my brother,” she echoed sadly, staring at the bits of paper covering the floor. Then her husband led her out.
Joe leaned close and lowered his voice. “This ain’t over,” he said furiously. But his father heard him and turned back.
“Yes, it is. You do or say anything to Clay or anyone connected to him, and we’ll disown you, do you understand? This is family business, and you’ll respect our wishes. Or you’ll be on your own.”
Joe’s eyes flicked from Allie to Roger and back. He opened his mouth to make a retort, but his father spoke again.
“From now on, we won’t mention your uncle Lee. Ever. What he did is in the past. It’s over, and we’re going to leave it as dead and buried as he probably is. For Madeline’s sake, if no one else’s.”
A vein stood out on Joe’s forehead. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Marcus replied. “Surely we can be as good as Clay Montgomery.” Then he disappeared down the hall with his wife, and Allie kissed Clay’s medallion as she let herself out.
Clay could hardly believe that it was all over, that he’d be able to remain on the farm where he belonged. It’d been only twenty-four hours since Allie had called him after leaving the Vincellis’ house but, sure enough, the district attorney had already dropped the charges.
He found it especially ironic that without Portenski’s involvement, the situation would’ve been much different. “The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away,” he muttered. Only he’d done it in reverse order. Still, maybe God was more forgiving than Clay had assumed.
The doorbell rang, and Clay’s heart hammered against his chest. He’d invited Allie over for dinner—and she was bringing Whitney.
The moment he opened the door, he wanted to pull Allie into his arms. But, in deference to her daughter’s presence, he kept his distance.
“Hi,” he said.
Whitney stared up at him, her pretty, brown eyes so much like her mother’s. “Hi!” she replied brightly.
He chuckled at her enthusiastic response.
“Whitney, this is Clay. Mommy’s…friend,” Allie said.
“You’re really big!” Whitney breathed.
He arched an eyebrow at her. “And you’re a half-pint like your mother.”
She wrinkled her nose. “A what?”
He shifted his focus back to Allie. “You’re just right.”
He held the door open, and Allie smiled as she led her daughter into the living room. “Where’s Molly?”
Clay felt his own smile disappear. “She went over to my mom’s.”
“What’s wrong?” she said.
He rubbed his neck. “My dad’ll be there.”
“He didn’t go back to Alaska?”
Clay had mentioned Lucas’s visit when they’d talked on the phone yesterday. But at the time, he’d thought Lucas had gone home. “No.”
“How come he’s going to your mother’s house?”
“He called and asked to see her.”
“I can
’t believe she agreed.”
“Nothing she does surprises me anymore.”
“What about Grace?”
“She won’t see him.”
“Do you mind, about Molly and your mother?”
“No. If they can forgive him, I suppose it’s a good thing,” he said, but he wasn’t sure he really felt that positive about it. He resented the way his father seemed to think he could just waltz back into their lives.
“They’re probably more curious than anything else,” Allie said.
“Who knows?”
She slid her hand down his forearm and entwined her fingers with his. “What about you?” she asked. “Will you ever be able to forgive him?”
He watched Whitney drift off, examining the unfamiliar room. “I don’t know. Definitely not right now.”
She didn’t tell him he should try. She didn’t pass any judgments on him at all. “You’ll know when you’re ready.”
He nodded toward Whitney. “She’s pretty, like you.”
“I’m proud of her.”
“How’s your mom?” he asked.
“She’s going out with my father tonight. For the first time since The Big Event.”
He brought her into the kitchen, where he had a salad, baked potatoes and garlic bread waiting for dinner. The steaks were on the grill outside. “You think they’ll be able to patch up their marriage?”
“They’re going to try.” She set her purse on the counter. He liked seeing it there. It showed that she was starting to feel at home in his house. “It’ll take time, but…maybe.”
Suddenly, Whitney let out a squeal and clapped her hands. “Look, Mommy! Outside! There’s a puppy!”
“Puppy” came out as if there could be no better thing in the entire world. Clay’s surprise had just given itself away, but in the face of Whitney’s excitement, he didn’t care that the pup had announced his presence a little too soon.
“Can he come in?” she asked, looking up at him with such earnest hope he couldn’t have refused even if he’d wanted to.
“Sure.” Clay could see the three-month-old Labrador retriever he’d bought jumping up against the house, trying to reach the humans he’d spotted through the window. “It appears he likes you, too.”
“Is he yours?” Whitney asked. “He has a bow around his neck.”
Clay moved to the door. “That’s because he’s a present.”
Allie glanced over at him, but it was Whitney who asked, “For who?”
“For you.” He let the puppy in and she squealed in delight. Amid the licks and yelps and giggles of their mutual admiration, she managed to calm down enough to turn to her mother. “Can I have him, Mommy? Can I have him, please? Huh, Mommy? Please, oh, please, oh please!”
“I’m sorry, honey,” Allie said gently. “But we can’t have a dog at the rental house. The landlord won’t allow it.”
Clay bent down to Whitney’s level and petted the puppy while he talked. “See, that’s the thing,” he said. “You can have him, but you and your mom would have to move in here with me so you could help take care of him.”
“We would?” she asked, suddenly leery. “What about Boppo?”
“Boppo?”
“Grandma McCormick,” Allie supplied.
“She’d probably stay at the rental house,” Clay said.
“By herself?”
He offered Allie a hopeful smile. “Unless she moves back with your grandpa.”
Whitney kept her eye on the wriggling puppy as if she feared he might disappear. “But Boppo wouldn’t like it if me and Mommy moved in with you, would she?”
“Not at first,” he agreed. “But she’d get used to it, and she wouldn’t mind nearly as much if your mommy and I got married.”
“Married?” Whitney breathed.
This was where Clay feared he’d run into opposition. “How do you feel about that?”
“You’d be my new daddy?”
“You wouldn’t have to think of me that way unless you wanted to,” he said. “We could be friends, until we get to know each other better.”
“So we’d live here and be friends and then I could have the puppy?”
Allie was far too quiet. But he’d plunged in wholeheartedly, and it was too late to back out. “That’s right,” he said. But he knew Whitney would have much more than that. She’d have everything he could give her.
“Okay!” She made the decision that easily, and it wasn’t a moment later that she was rolling around with the puppy, squealing as he licked her face. “He likes me!”
“You could’ve warned me,” Allie murmured, looking a little shocked. “I sort of expected us to take things a bit slower.”
“Why? I already know what I want.” He ran his thumb along her jawline. “Don’t you?”
She met his gaze. “Yes, but—”
He slipped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck, hoping to encourage her to forgive him. “I’ll be a good dad.”
She seemed more exasperated than upset. “I know you will, but…you bribed her!”
“I have a bribe for you,” he promised.
She pulled back to stare into his face. “A wedding ring?”
He grinned. “That, too.”
Epilogue
Clay held Whitney’s hand as they strolled behind Allie, who was pushing their cart, in the Piggly Wiggly. He’d felt Beth Ann’s eyes following them since they’d walked through the door, could almost hear her whispering when she turned to speak to Polly, who worked in the deli section right next to the bakery. He had no idea what she might be saying—what was there to say? He’d been married to Allie for six months, and they were the best six months of his life. Although they saw Beth Ann at church each Sunday, he hadn’t spoken to her, didn’t miss her in the least. But she always reacted to their presence.
“Daddy, can I have a doughnut?”
Clay looked down at the little girl who’d brought him to his knees in the first few weeks of their acquaintance. Although he’d wanted a child, he’d never expected to love one this much.
“I don’t think so, babe,” he said. “You had ice cream earlier. And it’s almost time for dinner.”
“What if I only eat half of it?” she asked. “Or save it for tomorrow?”
He knew he should say no. But she was giving him the dimpled smile he couldn’t resist. “Please, Daddy?”
She probably thought “please” was the magic word. But it was the “Daddy” that got him.
“Listen to your father,” Allie said, preoccupied with her shopping. But Clay had spoken at the same time—and already succumbed. “Okay. If you save it.”
Stopping, grocery list still in hand, his wife turned to face him. “You’re giving in to her just like that?”
“Don’t I always?” he said with a grin.
Shaking her head, Allie chuckled. “Who would ever have thought you’d be such a pushover?”
“You?” Pulling her to him, he stole a kiss. He knew she wasn’t really annoyed; she loved the way he treated Whitney. She was ready for another child, especially since she’d decided to be a stay-at-home mom for a while. But he was the one who’d chosen to wait, so that Whitney could have a solid year, at least, alone with them.
“You’ve got to stop spoiling her,” Allie said, halfheartedly.
“You get the milk and eggs, and we’ll meet you at the checkout,” he said so she wouldn’t have to go to the bakery with them.
Frowning, Allie glanced Beth Ann’s way, confirming the fact that she was more opposed to the other woman’s proximity than to Whitney’s eating a doughnut. “Okay, but don’t let Beth Ann poison it,” she muttered for his ears alone.
He squeezed her arm, then led Whitney toward the display case that held the cakes and doughnuts.
When Beth Ann saw them coming, she stopped whispering and straightened to her full height. She’d also unbuttoned the top two buttons of her uniform—as if it was so hot in the store she simply couldn’t keep her clothes on.
Even though it was the dead of winter…
Clay had no trouble ignoring her cleavage. He squatted in front of the glass, more interested in enjoying Whitney’s excitement over her treat. “Which one do you want, half-pint?” he asked.
“The long one. The one with brown frosting.”
“We’ll have a maple bar,” he said to Beth Ann, rising.
Beth Ann reached into the case, pulled out a maple bar and put it in a sack. But when he tried to take it from her, she wouldn’t let go. “How’ve you been?” she asked, her eyes hungry enough to make him pity her.
“Fine,” he said. “You?”
“Good.”
She offered him a brief smile. “I hear Allie’s parents are living in Jackson.”
“That’s right.”
“I’m glad they were able to reconcile.”
“So are we.”
She licked her lips nervously. “What’s Chief McCormick doing now?”
Finally getting hold of the sack, Clay handed it to Whitney. “He’s been hired to handle security for a big company there. He likes it.”
“And her mother?”
“She’s teaching piano lessons.”
“That sounds ideal.”
“It seems to be working.” He started to move on, but she spoke again, giving him the impression she couldn’t bear to see him go.
“How’s your own mother?”
Irene was doing surprisingly well, considering the heartbreak she’d suffered when Allie’s father reconciled with his wife and relocated. “She’s keeping busy.”
“I run into her every once in a while. At the dress shop.” Beth Ann smiled prettily at him again. “Anyway, it’s good to see you.”
“Take care.” He turned away, but he and Whitney hadn’t gone two feet before Allie came rushing back to meet them. He could tell by the look on her face that something was wrong.
“What is it?” he asked.
She drew him farther away from Beth Ann and lowered her voice. “Grace just called.”
“What did she say?”
She stared down at her cell phone for a moment, then met his gaze, her eyes filled with worry. “They just found Barker’s car in the quarry.”
