Dead Giveaway (Stillwater Trilogy 2)

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?"

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."

He motioned for Evelyn to be quiet. "I'm checking my voice-mail to see if anyone needs me at the station," he lied, his heart thumping with more than its usual share of guilt.

Evelyn was always very respectful of his wishes, but today she ignored his plea for silence.

Wringing her hands, she scowled and said, "I've got to see Reverend Portenski. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Obviously, she was unhappy. He would've asked her what was wrong. But Irene was telling him how much she loved him, how much she longed to be with him--and how she planned to remove the skimpy lingerie he'd bought her the next time they were together.

Instead of stopping Evelyn, Dale breathed a sigh of relief as she pulled out of the driveway and then dialed Irene.

"Hello?"

"It's me," he said.

"How come you're calling me now? You're usually home on a Saturday morning."

"Evelyn's out."

"Thank you for the flowers," she said. "And the note. I needed the note more than anything."

"I want to make love to you," he said.

"Now?"

If they had time, he would. But the cabin was too far, and after what had happened there, he didn't dare take her back, anyway. Their favorite little hotel in Corinth wasn't much closer, not close enough for a quick rendezvous. "Soon. It'll give me something to look forward to."

"I don't want to wait," she said, her voice pleading. "I need you now."

He was afraid she'd change her mind about seeing him if he didn't arrange something in the next few days. "I'd say we could get together tonight, but I'm not sure where we could go that would be safe, darling."

"You have that guesthouse."

He was desperate, but not crazy. "Not there."

"Come on. No one'll see us."

"It's right next to my house, for crying out loud."

"No, it's not. It's down by the pond. You can't even see it from your house. You've told me often enough that you'd like to move me there."

That was wishful thinking, and she knew it. But she could be so childlike. He tried a different line of reasoning. "That wouldn't be any fun. I'd have a heart attack from the stress."

She started crying. "If I'm that bad for you, forget it. Forget everything--"

"Irene, stop," he begged. "I want to touch you so badly I can't think of anything else. It's just--" Suddenly he had an idea. "Wait. What about the farm?"

"The farm?" she echoed, sniffling.

"It's empty now, isn't it? And it's private. I could go the back way and hide my car in the barn."

"No. Molly will be in town this afternoon. She flew in early because of Clay. She's renting a car in Nashville right now."

"She'll be staying at the farm?"

"She could. She usually stays with Clay."

"But Clay's not there this weekend. She won't stay at the farm alone."

"That's true," she admitted. "And she'll be excited to see Grace's new baby. I'm sure she'll stay with Grace. But they'll expect me to be with them this evening."

"You can get away. Say you've got a headache, that you're going home to bed and leave a bit early."

"But someone's bound to see the lights in the farmhouse," she said.

"Then we won't turn on any lights. You can hide your car in the barn, too."

She didn't answer.

"It's perfect, honey," he pleaded. "It's close and it's private. Where else is there?"

"But Clay's in jail--"

"Not for long. Grace will get him out." He knew Irene would assume he meant for good, when he was only talking about making bail. But he didn't want to get specific; she was too worried about her son.

"He won't like it," she said.

"How will it hurt him?"

Silence.

"He doesn't know about us, right?"

"Of course not," she said immediately.

"Good. Then meet me there tonight."

"What will you tell your wife?"

"I'll say that one of my men called in sick and I've got to fill in."

"What time?"

"Ten."

He heard a soft sigh. "If that's what you want."

"It's what I want. And bring that nightie you were talking about in the message," he added.

The lumps in the cheap mattress dug into Clay's back as he stared at the bunk above his.

Fortunately, the county lockup was mostly empty, so he didn't have a cellmate. He could imagine how much worse his stay would be with two or three other guys sharing the same small space--the lack of privacy, the smell, the noise. Of course, he had all that to look forward to, and more, if he went to prison. But for now, he could take comfort in the fact that there was no one besides the jailer who delivered his meals to interrupt his thoughts.

He kicked at a piece of lint on the ground. Actually, having twenty-four hours a day strictly to himself might not be so good. Because he couldn't stop thinking about Allie. And her little girl.

They'd be better off if Allie didn't try to help him. The fact that she was willing to take a stand against everyone she knew and loved, for his sake, made Clay yearn for things he couldn't have.