Dead Right by Brenda Novak Page A

attention.
    â€œIt’s Pontiff,” Irene said.
    Toby stepped through the door, looking very official in his police-issue raincoat.
    Madeline immediately forgot about the caller. “Chief,” she said expectantly.
    He stood dripping on her doormat as he sent a fleeting glance at Irene, then nodded politely.
    â€œDid you find anything?” she asked.
    His eyebrows gathered over his brown eyes. “Can I speak to you, Madeline? Privately?”
    Madeline hesitated. She wanted to agree, simply because it’d give her a moment to absorb what he had to say before thinking about how it might affect her stepmother. But she couldn’t pull him into the tiny bathroom, and other than that her office was one big room occupied mostly by a giant printer. She wasn’t about to be so rude as to huddle in a corner and whisper while Irene was at her desk. She worked too hard to make sure others treated her stepmother with respect to ever slight Irene herself. “It’s okay. Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of my mother.”
    He looked as if he might argue, but ultimately must’ve decided against it. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up, but we found some items this morning that could possibly turn into leads.”
    â€œPossibly?” she echoed, her pulse kicking up. “What, exactly, are we talking about?”
    â€œSome short strands of hair, for one.”
    â€œThat didn’t belong to my father?”
    â€œThey’re black.”
    She knew what he was going to say next, so she said it for him. “Like Clay’s.”
    It was Clay who drove it there….
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThat doesn’t mean anything,” Irene snapped.
    The Montgomerys had been accused so many times, Madeline could scarcely blame Irene for sounding belligerent. But Madeline was afraid her stepmother’sattitude wouldn’t win her any points with Pontiff, so she squelched her own flicker of doubt beneath the love and respect she felt for Clay.
    â€œMom’s right. If you look closely, you’ll probably find my hair in that car, too. And Grace’s. And Molly’s. We took the Cadillac to church every week.”
    â€œSaying you found Clay’s hair in the car is like saying you found Clay’s DNA in the house!” Irene added.
    Madeline recognized the dislike in Toby’s eyes. As if the town didn’t have enough against her stepmother, many Stillwater residents blamed Irene for the downfall of Chief McCormick. Madeline was guessing Toby was one of them. But there was nothing Madeline could do about what had happened nine months ago, nothing anyone could do. Unlike the mystery surrounding her father, the former police chief’s affair with Irene was more than mere accusation; it was common knowledge.
    â€œThe hairs were stuck between the headrest and the seat,” Pontiff clarified.
    â€œSo?” Irene challenged.
    â€œOn the driver’s side.”
    Clay had never been allowed to drive the Cadillac. Madeline had verified that in her own statement to the police.
    â€œMaybe he took it for a joy ride once,” Irene suggested.
    Pontiff’s lips barely moved when he spoke. “To the quarry, perhaps?”
    â€œWhat you found doesn’t prove that.” Irene’s voice had a desperate, panicky edge that made Madeline step closer and take her hand.
    â€œClay might’ve been behind the wheel for reasonscompletely unrelated to my father’s disappearance,” she said.
    â€œFor instance…” Pontiff prodded.
    Madeline quickly came up with a plausible scenario. “To move it so he could get the tractor through.”
    The hair meant nothing. Like the caller today. Like all the accusations that had come before. If her stepbrother was guilty, where was the proof?
    â€œThere’s something else,” Pontiff said.
    Madeline’s stomach tensed with painful anticipation.