Dead Right by Brenda Novak

about that. Her stepmother looked upset.
    â€œHi, Mom.” She rounded the desk to give Irene a hug.
    â€œHi, honey.” Irene embraced Madeline rather stiffly, proof that she was as anxious and upset as Madeline was. “Have you heard from Chief Pontiff?”
    â€œNo. You?”
    An expression of disgust tugged at her stepmother’slips. “He’d never call me. Not unless he had another search warrant. Or an arrest warrant.” Although Chief Pontiff seemed less prejudiced against the Montgomerys than some people in Stillwater, he wasn’t particularly friendly to them, either. In the absence of hard evidence, he was obviously making an effort to reserve judgment. But Madeline sensed that he believed what everyone else believed—that her stepfamily had caused whatever had happened to Lee Barker.
    â€œIt shouldn’t be long now,” she said, to herself as much as Irene.
    â€œDo they know what they’re doing? They should’ve asked Allie for help.”
    â€œThey didn’t?”
    â€œNo. She called and offered, but they turned her down.”
    The Vincellis had gotten to Toby, just as she’d expected. Otherwise, he would’ve included Allie. Allie had more experience in gathering evidence than anyone in Stillwater; she would’ve been the obvious choice. “I’m sure they’re doing their best. Chief Pontiff is a good man.”
    But he was new at his job, and Madeline didn’t have a lot of confidence in his ability to shrug off the political influence of people like Mayor Nibley, who happened to be a friend of the Vincellis.
    â€œChief McCormick was a good man, too,” Irene said bitterly.
    Madeline didn’t respond. Her stepmother was still in love with Allie’s father. That was clear. Not that she saw him anymore. The McCormicks had relocated in an attempt to save their marriage. According to Allie, they were managing, although it remained to be seen whether or not they’d ultimately succeed.
    Madeline knew Irene was hoping against it. Her stepmother was so lonely she dropped in more often these days. With Clay and Grace both married, and Molly living in New York, it was natural that she’d turn to Madeline. But Madeline could’ve survived without today’s visit. Her stepmother’s angst added fuel to her own.
    â€œShould we call him?” Madeline asked.
    Irene nodded, but the phone rang before Madeline could reach it.
    Bending over the desk, she pulled it toward her. Caller ID registered a blocked number, but she still hoped it was Chief Pontiff. “Stillwater Independent,” she said.
    â€œMadeline?” The voice was muffled, odd, as if someone was purposely trying to disguise it.
    â€œYes?” she said hesitantly.
    â€œI heard your father’s car was found in the quarry.”
    Madeline was fairly certain it was a woman, although the caller was attempting to deepen her voice. “That’s true.”
    â€œIt was Clay who drove it there. I saw him,” she said.
    Then the phone went dead.

4
    M adeline told herself that it was just another crank call. She’d gotten a lot of them, all promising information they never delivered. But there was something different about this one. The caller had seemed so nervous, so self-conscious, so… genuine.
    Irene watched her with worried eyes. “What is it?”
    â€œWrong number.” She conjured up what was probably a lame smile, but she couldn’t manage anything more sincere. The sound of the caller’s voice hung over her like the gray clouds outside. Who’d placed that call? If she’d really seen what she’d claimed, why didn’t she come forward, be more specific? Madeline had a list of people who said they’d witnessed this or that. But once her father had left the church that last day, no one could say for sure where he’d gone.
    Movement at the window caught Madeline’s