Dead Giveaway by Brenda Novak Page B

slowly between his lips. “So it’s not true?” he asked. He needed to be sure.
    â€œNo, but—” her voice fell to a hopeful whisper “—would you have married me if it was?”
    Although he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it, the answer to that question had been lurking in his heart and mind for twenty-four hours—ever since he’d first learned of the possibility. Which was why he’d been so frightened. After what he’d experienced growing up, he wanted to raise any child of his on a full-time basis and, if he could, he’d ensure that child received the support of both mother and father. Even if it meant marrying a woman he didn’t love. “Probably,” he admitted.
    When his answer met with complete silence, he knew he’d shocked her.
    â€œI’ll let you go,” he said.
    â€œWait…Clay, if it’s a baby you want, I’ll give you one. We could make it work.”
    He imagined hearing a little girl’s laughter in the house, or taking his son out on the farm. Since Grace’s marriage, he had two nephews. Teddy and Heath belonged to Kennedy, her husband, but Clay loved them as much as if they were blood relatives. He wanted a couple of boys just like them, or maybe a little girl like Grace. Strained though their relationship had been since Barker, they were getting along much better these days. She’d always been his favorite, not only because they were closer in age, but because she was so fragile and lovely.
    Thinking of his nephews made Beth Ann’s suggestion more tempting than he’d ever imagined it would be—almost worth the trade-off. He was thirty-four years old.Had his situation been different, he would’ve been married by now.
    But what kind of life could he offer a wife and child when he was harboring such a dark secret? What if Allie McCormick, or someone else, managed to reveal the truth?
    He’d have to take full responsibility. And then he’d go to prison.
    Beth Ann didn’t realize it, but he was doing her a favor. “No,” he said, “it’s over.”
    â€œDon’t say that,” she cried. “Let me see you again.”
    She didn’t know when to back off. “I’m tired, Beth Ann.”
    â€œThis weekend, then. Or next weekend. One last night together. For old times’ sake.”
    â€œDon’t,” he said and hung up.
    Â 
    When Allie went to work, she found her father sitting at his desk with a stack of paperwork. He usually kept regular office hours, but he hadn’t been home since leaving for the station at eight that morning. He hadn’t even joined them for dinner. Evelyn had mentioned that he’d called to say he was busy, but Allie was surprised that he hadn’t asked to talk to her. Surely by now he’d heard about the call she’d handled at the Montgomery farm—from Hendricks or someone he’d told, from the rumors Beth Ann had probably started, from the dispatcher. From someone.
    â€œIt’s been a long day for you,” she said, setting the sack lunch she’d packed for later on her own small desk in the corner. “What’s going on?”
    He grunted in annoyance but kept typing on his computer, using only his index fingers. Her father didn’t welcome technical advancements with any enthusiasm. Hepreferred to work the old-fashioned way. “Everyone’s up in arms about Clay Montgomery’s confession,” he muttered.
    So he did know. Allie slid her report in front of him, then scooted a chair closer to his desk. “Word’s out already, huh?”
    â€œThanks largely to your fellow officer.”
    â€œHendricks?”
    â€œWho else? He’s done everything but call the damn paper, claiming we finally have our man.”
    She expected Dale to pick up her report, glance through it for the real story. But he didn’t. “What do you think?” she