She still suspected he was the one who'd driven by the farm the other day, when she was peeking in the window of Barker's old office. If he hadn't followed her, it was an odd coincidence that they'd been heading in the same direction. And Allie was always suspicious of a coincidence.
He was such an unusual man. What was he doing with that picture of Eliza Barker? she wondered for the millionth time.
"I, uh, I spoke with your brother." Portenski was talking to Grace again, but the fact that he'd lowered his voice to almost a whisper caught Allie's notice.
"I'm afraid I might have given you the wrong idea with what I said the last time we talked,"
he murmured.
Allie had to strain to hear him, but Grace spoke more loudly.
"It's fine," she said. "No need to mention it."
It seemed obvious that Clay's sister didn't want to address the issue, but the reverend was intent on saying what he'd come to say. "I want you to know I'm sorry. For everything."
Grace fidgeted nervously, and Allie did her best to look preoccupied. "You have nothing to be sorry for," Grace said.
He seemed relieved by her response. "Thank you." He gave Heath the money he owed for his purchases and started to leave, but Grace surprised Allie by calling him back. "Reverend Portenski?"
"Yes?" he said, a trifle too hopefully.
"You can help me by helping my brother."
Portenski must have understood what she meant, because he didn't ask how he could help Clay. The two of them stared at each other for a long moment. Then he nodded and got back in his car.
Allie handed her shopping basket to Heath. "I'm ready."
He added up the cost, gave her a total, and she withdrew twenty-five dollars from her purse.
"Come again," he said.
She accepted her change. "I will."
Grace turned away, expecting her to walk off, but Allie stood where she was. "Grace?"
Grace was putting labels on more bottles of peaches. "Yes?"
"I'd like to talk with you."
Any warmth that had been in her pretty, blue eyes when Allie drove up had long since fled.
"About what?"
"I want to help your brother, too."
Silence. Then, "How do you propose to do that?"
"At this point, I'm not sure," Allie admitted. "That's why I'm coming to you."
"What can I do? I've already told you everything I know about the night my stepfather went missing."
The slam of a car door broke Allie's concentration. Jed had parked in front of her Camry and was approaching the stand.
"You've heard about Beth Ann's claims," Allie said quickly.
"She's lying."
"I know that and you know that, but we have to prove it."
"What can I get for you this week, Mr. Fowler?" Teddy asked, rushing over to meet him.
Allie sensed Fowler and the boy coming up behind her, and instinctively shifted to put more distance between them. But she didn't turn to look at Jed again. And he didn't answer Teddy.
He merely handed the boy a jar of peaches and a sweet-potato pie, along with the exact change.
When Teddy began to whisper excitedly to his brother about how busy they were, and how much money they were making, Allie assumed Jed was on his way back to his truck and forgot all about him in favor of appealing to Grace. If there was a way to reach her, to enlist her support, it was through her love for Clay. Allie felt certain of it. In the past, Grace and Clay might have had their differences, but they'd always maintained a unified front.
"What do you say?" she asked. "Will you sit down with me? Answer a few questions I've never had the chance to ask?"
"I don't know," Grace said, her eyes troubled. "I don't see what that'll change. We've already been over it."
Allie wanted to tell Grace that the Vincellis had friends in high places who were trying to strong-arm her father into pressing charges. But she hesitated to go that far. Grace was too close to the end of her pregnancy. Allie hoped to solve the Barker disappearance, but she didn't want to throw Grace into an early labor or spoil the excitement she had to be feeling about the baby. "Will you think about it?"
Grace nodded, and Allie reached out to touch her arm. "Trust me, I'm on your side," she whispered earnestly, then nearly ran into Jed Fowler when she started to leave.
"Excuse me," she murmured. Irritated that Jed seemed to be lurking around every corner, she got in her car and drove away.
Allie reached the cabin much later than she'd hoped. A semi pulling two trailers full of dirt had overturned on the highway ahead of her, causing a traffic jam that lasted more than two hours.
And then it had started to rain. By the time she arrived, it was pouring and completely dark.
"Just my luck," she muttered, staring miserably at the fat drops pelting her windshield. She was tempted to turn around and go back. She didn't really want to be out here alone so late at night.
And she definitely didn't want to find what she was looking for.
But she'd already made the drive. It didn't make sense to give up before she'd even gotten out.
Grabbing her small dinner and the plate of brownies, she made a dash for the door. But she hesitated once she stood under the small overhang, staring at the dark cabin. She felt jittery, afraid, because she hadn't been able to answer the questions she'd been asking herself the entire drive: What if my father is seeing someone else? Would I tell my mother? Confront him? Or keep his dirty secret? What would be best for both my parents?
Despite her father's bluster, Allie loved him as much as she did Evelyn. But she wasn't sure how she'd feel toward him if she caught him cheating. To her, the fact that he was a cop made the situation that much worse. She expected more from a police officer. She didn't want to lose respect for the man she'd always admired.
"Please, don't let me down," she whispered. Then she took a deep breath, retrieved the key from under the mat and went inside.
The place smelled like Clay. Allie couldn't believe it. It'd been a whole week, and yet she could still detect his cologne. Or maybe she was only imagining that she could pick up his scent because she wished he was with her.
She scanned the room. Nothing that said "adultery" jumped out at her, even now that she was looking with a critical eye. But her father wouldn't leave evidence of a clandestine affair lying around where anyone could find it, would he?
She had to search for the small, insignificant details he might have overlooked.
Clay flipped through the channels on the television, trying to distract himself. Allie was probably at the cabin already, searching for proof of her father's infidelity. Whether or not she'd find it, he couldn't guess. He hadn't seen anything suspicious. But he hadn't checked the drawers, under the bed, the bookcase or cupboards. There was no telling what small thing his mother might have left behind. And if Allie found anything to fuel her suspicions, it'd only be a matter of time before she reached the truth.