Dead Giveaway (Stillwater Trilogy 2)

Allie held the picture closer, trying to see through the image to the writing on the other side. It was an invitation to a church Christmas party. From the date, it was probably the last party Eliza had ever attended. Barker's wife committed suicide three years before he married Irene. Allie remembered her as a gentle, soft-spoken woman who worked tirelessly to serve the members of her husband's church, but her suicide hadn't come as much of a surprise. Everyone knew Eliza suffered from depression. She'd even tried to start a support group for others who suffered as she did.

Finding her picture in such a prominent location in Jed's house, however, sparked Allie's curiosity. Had Eliza known Jed as more than just a parishioner? Allie didn't think so. If they'd had a relationship--a close friendship or even an affair--surely he'd have a real photograph of her and not simply a torn-off portion of a Christmas program.

Had he been obsessed with her?

The complete silence suddenly shattered Allie's preoccupation. Feeling the weight of Jed's stare at her back, she turned to find him standing at the entrance to the room.

She set the picture on the dusty coffee table, then wiped her hands on her skirt. "Does someone need roadside assistance?"

His face was flushed--with anger or embarrassment, she couldn't really tell. "Yes," he said.

"I've got to go."

"No problem." She moved to the door, but looked back when he called her name.

"Don't come here again unless you've got a subpoena," he said.

Allie was frightened of Fowler. And she was uncomfortable in his neat but musty-smelling house. She was going to get in her cruiser and investigate some of the reverend's friends and neighbors who would be more forthcoming. But she had one last question. "Would you like to tell me why you have that program?"

"I received one just like everyone else who went to church that day," he said.

"I see," Allie responded. But she was willing to bet he was the only one who'd torn Barker out of the picture and framed it.

Chapter 9

Clay's muscles shook as he pushed himself to bench-press more weight than ever before.

Some days, in order to achieve any peace at all, he had to drive himself until he could scarcely think. Which was why he had a complete weight room in the basement of his house.

Today was one of those days. After his confrontation with Chief McCormick and the discussion that followed with Reverend Portenski, he was searching for the oblivion of absolute exhaustion.

Three hundred and fifty pounds hung suspended by his own power in the air above him.

His body begged him to stop. But he wouldn't. He could still picture Allie in that pretty top at church, the flirtatious smile she'd given him when he said he wasn't as cheap as she might think--and the glower on her father's face as Chief McCormick demanded Clay leave her alone.

Maybe getting close to Allie would enable him to control--to a degree, anyway--what Allie learned about Barker and how she interpreted it. At least he'd know where she was in her investigation. He could see the value in that, for him. But he couldn't offer her anything. Unless she was just looking for a good time. Clay knew women enjoyed what he could give them in bed.

Problem was, Allie McCormick wasn't like Beth Ann or the others who pursued him so relentlessly. Clay wasn't convinced he could get her to sleep with him even if he tried. She'd always been one of those straight-arrow types. I've only been with my ex....

One...two...three...Sucking air in between his teeth, he began to lower the barbell carefully to his chest. It wasn't wise to lift so much weight when he was alone. Maxing out, as he was doing now, was supposed to be done in the presence of a partner who could help in an emergency. But Clay didn't care about the risks involved. He preferred to lift alone, the way he did almost everything.

Briefly, the barbell touched his chest. Then he gritted his teeth and commanded his arms to lift it again. One...t-w-o...t-h-r-e-e, he groaned. For a moment, he didn't think he could do it. But he refused to give up before he was ready.

Push, dammit. Push! he ordered himself.

His whole body trembled with the strain. The weight began to rise, but it was only through sheer will that he finally lifted the barbell until he could fully extend his arms.

As he gasped for breath, Clay wanted to believe he'd done enough. He wasn't sure how much more he could take. But it was early. And he still wanted to see Allie, regardless of whether or not it'd be good for either one of them.

Another rep. He needed to keep lifting.

He managed two more, and then the phone rang.

Maneuvering the barbell into the holder over his head, Clay sat up and grabbed a towel to wipe the perspiration from his face. Allie had said she'd call him. He'd asked her to dinner.

But by getting to know her, he could lose as much as he stood to gain. Why bother?

Without Barker's remains, she couldn't prove there'd even been a murder, whether Lucas was telling tales or not.

At least Clay hoped that was true. Since that night nineteen years ago, he could never be completely sure.

With a tired curse, he let the caller go to voice-mail and headed for the shower.

Allie hung up when Clay's voice, in the form of a recorded message, came over the line.

She had several people still to interview and planned to go down her list. But Clay had had plenty of time to get home and she didn't want him to think her earlier lack of response and rapid departure meant she'd decided not to go out with him. Sure, she hoped to keep the peace with her parents, especially now that she was living with them and depending on them to watch Whitney while she worked. They'd always been close. But she had her limits. She wasn't going to allow them to tell her who she could and couldn't see.

To prove it, she'd go out with Clay in spite of her father. What was one dinner? They needed to talk. They'd been together a couple of times but had never thoroughly discussed the details of the night Reverend Barker went missing. In light of the photograph she'd just discovered at Fowler's, Allie had some questions Clay might not have entertained before. Also, Lucas denied that he'd spoken with his family during the two previous decades, but Allie knew from what he'd inadvertently revealed that he'd talked to someone during that time. She was hoping to get Clay to explain a bit more of how, when and why Lucas might have been in touch.

In any case, having dinner with Madeline's stepbrother should prove interesting. Dealing with him usually was.

Pushing the End button on her cell phone, she decided to try again later and slowed to turn into the property across from Clay's farm. Bonnie Ray Simpson lived in the ramshackle old home set back a quarter of a mile from the road. Her aging husband, the victim of a recent stroke, and the wayward teenage granddaughter she was struggling to raise lived with her. According to the files and Allie's memory, Bonnie Ray had claimed she saw Barker come home on the night in question.