were both feeling, so he wasn't without sensitivity.
"He's as human as the rest of us," she said.
"No, he's not. I could put a gun right between his eyes and cock the damn trigger--and he'd dare me to fire. I've never seen a tougher sumbitch."
Clay was tough, all right. Allie suspected that life had made him that way. How else would he have survived the constant doubt, the suspicion, anger and animosity he'd battled for so many 34
Brenda Novak
years? Allie could only wonder why he hadn't moved as far away from Stillwater as possible. What kept him around? The farm? As Barker's wife, Irene had inherited it when he disappeared. Then once Clay had graduated from college, she'd passed it on to him. Allie wasn't sure what kind of an agreement he had with his mother and sisters as far as the property was concerned, but surely he could sell out, pay them off if he owed them money, and buy another piece of land where no one had ever heard of the missing reverend.
"Why do you think he stays put?" she asked. If he'd killed Barker and buried him at the farm, that would explain it. But if he was innocent...
"Where else would he go?" Hendricks asked.
"There must be towns where he'd be welcomed. He's young, strong, handsome. Without Reverend Barker's disappearance hanging over his head, he'd be like anyone else."
Hendricks wiped the perspiration beading on his forehead. "Guess he stays 'cause he's got family in the area."
Why didn't they all find a new home? Allie wondered. Molly, the youngest of Irene's children at thirty, had left as soon as she graduated from high school. According to Madeline, she was currently designing clothes in New York. Grace had left, too, but she'd come back, and now that she was married to Kennedy Archer, Allie didn't think she'd leave again. Kennedy, along with his father, owned the bank. He wouldn't want to uproot his boys, abandon the family business and leave his parents. His father had just survived a bout with cancer. But Clay and Irene had never even attempted to get away. When he returned from college, she'd moved into town and let him take over at the farm. And that was that.
"Do you know much about Clay's background?" she asked, adjusting her position so she could see Hendricks without putting a crick in her neck.
"Aren't the details all there, in the files?" he asked.
Some of them were. But the Stillwater police force hadn't investigated many missing persons--or murders, for that matter--and the files weren't as detailed as they should be. She was looking for the word-of-mouth snippets her father and his predecessors had deemed unrelated or unimportant. If Hendricks was going to impose his presence on her, she figured she might as well learn what he knew. He loved gossip and generally picked up on whatever was being said around town. "There're a few bare facts. Where he was born, that sort of thing."
"He was born in Booneville, wasn't he?"
She nodded.
"My little sister was in his class when he moved here. Said he made good marks in school.
Until he was older."
"Did his grades start to fall before or after Reverend Barker went missing?"
"Mary Lee told me it happened about the same time, but I've never checked his transcripts."
"What about his natural father?" she asked.
"Ran off is all I heard."
Clay's file indicated that much, but no more. "Has anyone ever tried to locate Mr.
Montgomery?"
"Not that I recall. Why?"
She shrugged, but to her surprise, Hendricks caught on, anyway.
"You don't think Clay might've killed him, too?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'm no genius, but my guess is Clay would've been too young."
He didn't respond to the sarcasm in her voice. "So you were thinking of Irene? Of course!"
He clapped his hands as if they'd just solved the case. " Now I know why they paid you the big 35
Brenda Novak
bucks in Chicago. I doubt anyone else has even thought of that."
Probably because Allie was the only person in Stillwater jaded enough to
"He's as human as the rest of us," she said.
"No, he's not. I could put a gun right between his eyes and cock the damn trigger--and he'd dare me to fire. I've never seen a tougher sumbitch."
Clay was tough, all right. Allie suspected that life had made him that way. How else would he have survived the constant doubt, the suspicion, anger and animosity he'd battled for so many 34
Brenda Novak
years? Allie could only wonder why he hadn't moved as far away from Stillwater as possible. What kept him around? The farm? As Barker's wife, Irene had inherited it when he disappeared. Then once Clay had graduated from college, she'd passed it on to him. Allie wasn't sure what kind of an agreement he had with his mother and sisters as far as the property was concerned, but surely he could sell out, pay them off if he owed them money, and buy another piece of land where no one had ever heard of the missing reverend.
"Why do you think he stays put?" she asked. If he'd killed Barker and buried him at the farm, that would explain it. But if he was innocent...
"Where else would he go?" Hendricks asked.
"There must be towns where he'd be welcomed. He's young, strong, handsome. Without Reverend Barker's disappearance hanging over his head, he'd be like anyone else."
Hendricks wiped the perspiration beading on his forehead. "Guess he stays 'cause he's got family in the area."
Why didn't they all find a new home? Allie wondered. Molly, the youngest of Irene's children at thirty, had left as soon as she graduated from high school. According to Madeline, she was currently designing clothes in New York. Grace had left, too, but she'd come back, and now that she was married to Kennedy Archer, Allie didn't think she'd leave again. Kennedy, along with his father, owned the bank. He wouldn't want to uproot his boys, abandon the family business and leave his parents. His father had just survived a bout with cancer. But Clay and Irene had never even attempted to get away. When he returned from college, she'd moved into town and let him take over at the farm. And that was that.
"Do you know much about Clay's background?" she asked, adjusting her position so she could see Hendricks without putting a crick in her neck.
"Aren't the details all there, in the files?" he asked.
Some of them were. But the Stillwater police force hadn't investigated many missing persons--or murders, for that matter--and the files weren't as detailed as they should be. She was looking for the word-of-mouth snippets her father and his predecessors had deemed unrelated or unimportant. If Hendricks was going to impose his presence on her, she figured she might as well learn what he knew. He loved gossip and generally picked up on whatever was being said around town. "There're a few bare facts. Where he was born, that sort of thing."
"He was born in Booneville, wasn't he?"
She nodded.
"My little sister was in his class when he moved here. Said he made good marks in school.
Until he was older."
"Did his grades start to fall before or after Reverend Barker went missing?"
"Mary Lee told me it happened about the same time, but I've never checked his transcripts."
"What about his natural father?" she asked.
"Ran off is all I heard."
Clay's file indicated that much, but no more. "Has anyone ever tried to locate Mr.
Montgomery?"
"Not that I recall. Why?"
She shrugged, but to her surprise, Hendricks caught on, anyway.
"You don't think Clay might've killed him, too?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'm no genius, but my guess is Clay would've been too young."
He didn't respond to the sarcasm in her voice. "So you were thinking of Irene? Of course!"
He clapped his hands as if they'd just solved the case. " Now I know why they paid you the big 35
Brenda Novak
bucks in Chicago. I doubt anyone else has even thought of that."
Probably because Allie was the only person in Stillwater jaded enough to
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