"You don't remember ever seeing him at the house?"

"No...but he helped us out when our car stalled once. I remember him towing us back to his shop and giving me a quarter for a Pepsi. And there was the time he got scarlet fever. He refused to go to the hospital. My mother helped nurse him so he could stay at home. But she was always doing that kind of stuff for people...Why?"

"I'm just trying to figure out why he quit coming to church. I wondered if they might've had a falling-out."

"Oh, no. No one ever had a falling-out with my mother. She was..." She seemed aware that her admiration for her mother was breaking through the anger that usually kept all mention of Eliza at bay. "She didn't have any enemies," she finished.

"Right. I didn't think so."

"Who are you going to talk to next?" Maddy asked.

Allie held Clay's picture a little closer. "I don't know," she said. "I spoke to Bonnie Ray but she just repeated what was in the files. And we're pretty busy at the station."

Silence.

"I'll make a list of other people to interview, though, okay?" she added.

There was another pause, as if Madeline wanted to ask "When?" But she didn't. "Great.

Okay. I know it's hard to get it all done."

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Especially when your heart isn't in it. Allie sighed. "That's it for now, then. I'd better go."

"Allie?"

"Yes?"

"Tell me you won't give up."

Thinking of her rendezvous with Clay, Allie cringed. "Maddy..."

"I know, you'll do your best," she said and disconnected.

Over the next few days, Clay worked even harder than usual. He rebuilt fences, added soil amendments to the fields, and started to relandscape the front yard, all in an effort to keep himself too busy to think about Allie. But it was no good. On Tuesday night, his mother came over and told him she'd broken off her relationship with Chief McCormick. From her abject despair, he knew it was the truth, and was glad, especially for Grace. With the baby due in less than a week, she didn't need her world to fall apart. But Clay felt hypocritical telling his mother she'd made the right decision when, by seeing Allie, he was asking for the same kind of dilemma. He and Irene were both reaching for someone they couldn't have.

Cut it off as soon as possible, and then do your best to survive the bleeding.

He should be taking his own advice. Sooner rather than later. But he didn't attempt to contact Allie until Thursday night, after he'd already gone to bed, when he couldn't put it off any longer. Since he didn't have her cell number, he had to call the police station while she was at work.

"Stillwater Police Department. Officer McCormick."

Glad she'd answered the phone herself, Clay muted the television, shoved his pillows behind his back and sat up. "It's Clay."

"What's going on?" She sounded pleased to hear from him, which made him even more reluctant to cancel their plans for the following night.

"Nothing much."

"No late-night trips to Let the Good Times Roll?"

"Not tonight."

"The farm's looking nice. I couldn't help noticing when I was out there," she said.

"Thanks. How's your father treating you?" After his mother had told him how unhappy Dale was, Clay had worried that Allie's father might take his displeasure out on Allie. He'd wanted to call her just to see, but he knew he couldn't do anything about it, anyway.

"He's been in a bad mood all week," she said.

"Who told him you were with me?"

"I did. We weren't doing anything wrong. I didn't see any reason to lie."

She wasn't ashamed of being with him, and that made Clay feel better. He didn't want the fact that they'd gone out to cause problems for her, but neither did he want to be her guilty secret.

"What did he say?"

"He said I'd ruin my future and that I had to think about Whitney. That was about it. To be honest, he didn't say as much as I thought he would. He seems a little...preoccupied these days."

"With what?"

"I'm not sure. I'm actually worried about him."

Had Irene's decision made more of an impact on Dale than Clay had expected? Was that the reason for his preoccupation? "Why?"

"He hasn't really been himself since I got back."

"From the cabin?"

"From Chicago. But this week he's been worse than usual."

A trickle of unease made Clay kick off his blankets and get out of bed so he could wander over to the window. "In what way?"

"Gruffer. Highly irritable. I don't know what's bugging him. Danny's noticed it, too, when he's talked to Dad on the phone."

"Danny's your brother, right?"

"Yeah. In Arizona. He says Dad's been distracted. But what really has me frightened--" She stopped as if she wasn't sure whether or not to continue.

"Is..." he prompted.

"I shouldn't be telling you this."

Clay hated the fact that he probably already knew the reason behind her father's strange behavior--and hated pretending he didn't. "You don't have to tell me," he said and sort of hoped she wouldn't.

There was a long pause. "I'd like to tell someone I can trust."

He pressed his forehead to the cool glass. She wanted to trust him? "What is it?" he asked, closing his eyes.

"I found a tube of bright red lipstick under the seat of my father's car."

Clay gripped the phone more tightly and began to pace. This was exactly what he'd been afraid of. His mother had broken up with McCormick--but had she done it in time? If news of the affair came out now, it'd cause just as much damage. "It doesn't belong to your mother?" he asked.

"No. She's never worn such a flamboyant color. She rarely wears any lipstick."

"Was it in his squad car?"

"Yes."

Clay pivoted and headed back across the carpet. "Then it could belong to almost anyone, right?"

"Conceivably, but...I don't know. That's not all. This is going to sound silly, but...there's this cute bear mug my dad uses. At first I assumed he grabbed whatever cup he saw. But no. He goes for the teddy bear every day. And he has the number of a florist in Corinth written on his Rolodex."

"Why's that so odd?"

"I don't remember him ever sending my mother flowers."

"Maybe he's planning to do it in the future."

"No. Something's not right. My mom covers it well, but I don't think he's giving her the attention he used to. When he's home he barely acknowledges her."




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