Let him search. He won't find anything. The police had already searched twice. Clay was innocent.

Getting up, she began going through the rest of Joe's drawers. She'd use the time to look for her gun....

But she stopped only a second later. Clay was innocent of cold-blooded murder. In her heart, she knew that had to be true and refused to believe her emotions were clouding her judgment. But he harbored more than his share of secrets. She was frightened of what those secrets might be, and how they might be interpreted if they got out. He must have some reason for protecting the farm as vigilantly as he did.

What would Joe and whoever he was meeting find?

She wasn't sure. But she couldn't take the chance that they'd come up with something they could use against Clay.

Abandoning her own search, she rushed downstairs, let herself out the back door and ran for her car. She had to stop them before it was too late.

Allie was pretty sure she'd arrived in time. She'd tried contacting Grace and Madeline while she was on the road, to ask them to meet her at the farm. But Grace's line was busy, and she hadn't been able to reach Madeline. As a last-ditch effort, she'd called Madeline's boyfriend, Kirk.

He'd said Molly had come to town and they were all at Grace's. Since she couldn't reach anyone, he'd promised to meet her himself, but she'd obviously arrived before everyone else--including Vincelli. The farm looked deserted.

Parking in front, she hurried to the house. The door was locked. She went around back, choosing the soft earth rather than the wraparound porch so the boards wouldn't creak, and scaled the steps. The back door was locked, too.

Standing by the chicken coop, she gazed up at the second story and thought she saw a glimmer of light in some distant room--a bathroom, maybe? It winked out so fast, she decided it had to be the moon reflecting off a window.

Or was she imagining things?

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She was uneasy enough to conjure up almost any sight or sound. She knew Joe had a mean streak. Providing Cindy was right about her gun, it was Joe who'd nearly killed Clay. If he found Allie here, maybe she'd become his next target.

Shot with her own gun. Not a nice thought. But she had to admit it was possible. Joe hated the Montgomerys, and hate was a very powerful motivator.

She tried to call her father for backup. He seemed to believe Clay was the only person in Stillwater capable of violence, despite the theft and shooting at the cabin. But she knew Dale would come, anyway. If she could get hold of him.

On the third ring, her call transferred to voice-mail.

"Damn," she muttered, but Kirk would be here shortly.

While she waited, she decided to check for cars. The farm was far enough from town that Joe and whoever was with him would've had to drive. And if they were smart, they wouldn't park too far away, in case they needed to leave in a hurry. Their best parking options would be the dirt road along the back of the property, the open area where Clay kept his heavy equipment, behind the barn or down by the creek.

Allie moved automatically toward the barn, since Joe had mentioned it and it was closest.

But she hadn't yet reached the building when she noticed that the large sliding door Clay had installed so he could drive his cars in and out with ease wasn't closed all the way.

Clay wouldn't go anywhere with that door open. He was far too private and too cautious.

"Damn Joe," she whispered. He'd beaten her here, after all. Were they already digging?

He'd said something about starting in the barn. But there was no light peeking through the door.

Surely they wouldn't dig in the dark.

The house...

She turned back, now confident that the glimmer of light she'd seen earlier had been more than the moon's reflection. But at the last second, she decided to do Joe and his friend the same favor they'd done Clay at the cabin, and flatten their tires. Even if Joe wasn't the one who'd shot Clay, he deserved a little payback. And that way, if they heard her coming, they couldn't escape quickly and lie about the fact that they were here.

Taking the flashlight and knife from her bag, she ducked into the pitch-black of the barn.

Something small darted past her. The fact that it might've been a mouse nearly made her scream.

"It's okay," she muttered, managing to reel in her reaction. "Calm down."

Snapping on her flashlight, she turned to face the cars parked close to Clay's classic Jaguar.

But what she saw stunned her, and it took several seconds to make sense of it. Joe's truck wasn't anywhere to be seen. It was Irene Montgomery's blue Honda that sat in front of her, which wouldn't have been such a terrible surprise--except that her father's cruiser was parked beside it.

She could see the decorated baby-food lid Whitney had made him in school hanging from the rearview mirror.

Why? Why would they both be here? If they were meeting for some legitimate reason, they wouldn't feel the need to hide their vehicles....

Allie pictured the fear that had entered Irene's face at Grace's, when she was asked if Jed had ever seen her with another man, and a sick feeling began in the pit of her stomach. "No," she whispered. "No."

She listened to her heartbeat for several seconds before she could get her feet to move. She didn't want to go to the house. She was afraid of what she might see. She knew now where that bright red lipstick she'd found in her father's car had come from. It was exactly the same shade Irene wore almost every day.

But she had to do something. Joe was on his way. If finding her car in the driveway wasn't enough to stop them from snooping around--

"Oh, God," she groaned, hurrying cautiously out of the barn. She had to get her father and Irene away from the farm. If they were caught, her father would be ruined, her mother devastated as well as publicly humiliated. And the vengeance this town would exact from the Montgomerys would send Clay to prison in spite of the most brilliant defense they could muster.

How could her father do this? she asked herself over and over.

Despite the lump rising in her throat, Allie searched the area between the chicken coop and the shed, listening for voices or movement. She heard nothing. So she locked the barn door behind her, to slow Joe down, and approached the house.

Irene...and her father.

Shaking her head as if she could rid her mind of that painful thought, Allie moved as quietly as possible. If she wasn't careful, she could draw Joe's attention to the house when she'd rather leave him trying to jimmy the lock on the barn. But that meant she'd have to find her own way in, warn Dale and Irene and help them sneak out. She could simply tell them to hide, but if Kirk didn't arrive soon, Joe would break the lock on the barn, discover the cars and instigate a search for the living instead of the dead.