Dead Giveaway (Stillwater Trilogy 2) - Page 89/96

"Eat and put the rest in the fridge."

"You care about her a lot, don't you?" she asked.

"No," he said. He knew it was a lie. But every time he began to hope for something better, the past intruded once again.

"Oh, really?" His sister folded her arms. "Because I think you're in love with her. And I think she loves you, too."

He scowled. "You don't know anything."

"I know you," she said. But he didn't respond. He walked out and left her standing in his living room.

She followed him as far as the door and turned on the porch light. "Do you want me to go with you?" she called after him, but he shook his head.

Allie didn't invite Joe in; she didn't want to be alone with him. The memories of the shooting that had occurred during her last stay at the cabin put her on edge. But she was convinced Joe had hired Hendricks to make Clay look bad, to make her suspicious of the Montgomerys, not to kill him. Hendricks had shot Clay on his own, right?

"I talked to your mother," Joe said.

"After what you did at the farm, she was willing to speak to you?" Allie asked incredulously.

His expression became a study in mock empathy. "Like I told her, I feel terrible that she was caught up in that nasty business."

Allie clenched her jaw. "You seemed pretty gleeful to me."

"Only because it revealed Irene to be the whore that she is. You know what I think of the Montgomerys."

That wasn't all of it. Joe had been targeting Allie, too, reveling in the fact that she and her mother felt hurt and betrayed. Couldn't Evelyn see that?

"I still can't get over the fact that she told you I was here," Allie said. When she'd called Evelyn to check on Whitney, she'd mentioned where she was as a natural part of the conversation.

But she hadn't expected Evelyn to tell anyone, least of all Joe.

Obviously, her mother was more trusting than Allie was. But why wouldn't she be? She'd known Joe and his family for years and years and, like Dale, she believed Clay to be the only threat to the community.

Joe stuffed a wad of tobacco in his cheek and walked back to lean against the grille of his truck. "We had a really nice chat, Evelyn and I," he said. "I apologized for having to expose what Irene's done to your family, and she talked about the Montgomerys and how they've hurt so many people." It wasn't easy to make out his expression in the dark, but she saw a flash of teeth, as if he was smiling. "She talked about you, too, and your confusion over Clay right now. She's really upset about that, you know."

Allie wasn't willing to have this conversation with him. "Why are you here?" she asked bluntly.

"It's nice." He breathed deep. "Smell the pine, hear the cicadas."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Is this where you f**ked Clay? In that bed?" He jerked a thumb toward the bed she'd stripped, and she sensed a salaciousness in his interest.

"If you have something to say to me, say it," she said.

He seemed to give up badgering her, for the moment. "Hendricks called me."

She lifted her chin. "I thought he might."

"He said you wanted to ask him some questions."

"I do."

He spat at the spongy earth. "'Bout what?"

Allie felt cornered with the small cabin at her back. She stepped farther out so she could run if need be. "About you. You must know that or you wouldn't be here."

He took his time settling the chew in his cheek. "I didn't pay him to kill Clay, if that's what you think."

She considered possible responses. She'd wanted Hendricks to confess before she spoke to Joe. The money for that truck had to come from somewhere. But Joe's sudden appearance preempted the possibility of preparing for this confrontation. "Maybe you didn't hire him to shoot Clay. But you paid him to scare me, didn't you? To try and make me think it was Clay who was threatening me?"

He pushed away from the truck and moved into the sliver of lamplight cast through the open doorway. "No."

"Then it had to be your family."

His eyes turned cold and flat enough to raise the level of caution already surging through Allie's blood. " Had to be?" he said, speaking around the bulge in his cheek.

Joe had caused trouble in the past, usually when he was drunk. Although he didn't seem drunk now, the Montgomerys--and particularly Clay--had long been a sore subject for him. He seemed to have grown more bitter toward them as the years passed.

"Who else would want me to think Clay had something to hide?" she asked, edging toward her car in case she decided to make a dash for it.

"The whole town thinks Clay has something to hide," he said.

"So they all paid Hendricks to do what he did?" she countered.

Another stream of tobacco juice hit the ground as Joe cut off her retreat. "I told you, I didn't hire Hendricks to do anything. Neither did my family."

"Is that why you drove all the way here from Stillwater? To tell me you're innocent?"

"To tell you you're heading down the wrong path. I don't need you creating problems for me."

She mentally measured the distance to her car. Could she make it?

No, he'd be on her before she even opened the door....

"What could I do without proof?" she asked.

"You could try to convince my mother that I was involved."

Allie narrowed her gaze. "Don't tell me you're afraid it'll upset her. You're not that considerate."

He spat at her feet, barely missing her shoe. "She knows I hate the Montgomerys. With my luck, she'd believe you."

"So?"

"So that better not happen."

Why? Allie wondered. Because then she'd cut him off financially? Probably. He couldn't survive without his parents' support.

Allie was finally beginning to understand. But, as much as she didn't want to admit it, she got the impression Joe might be telling the truth, at least about his involvement in the shooting. "If you didn't hire Hendricks, who did?" she asked skeptically.

"Think about it," he replied. "Who wants you to find Barker's killer even more than I do?"

"No one!"

He put a hand in front of her, ostensibly to lean against the post that supported the cabin's small overhang. But he managed to pen her in at the same time. "Wrong. Check my bank accounts, if you want to. I haven't paid Hendricks a dime. Why would I? We've got Clay by the balls already."

Allie shook her head. "Come on, Joe. The trial hasn't even started."