“No,” she said. But he was fairly sure it was a lie.
Madeline hated having to bring Hunter to the farm. She knew Clay didn’t like it. Her stepbrother was a man who took his privacy seriously. Yet here she was parading a private investigator around his home. The police had searched the property twice—but only after they’d produced a warrant. Even then, Clay had held them strictly to the specified areas, allowing them no extra leeway. He didn’t trust the police.
She could tell he didn’t trust Hunter, either—and she hated the fact that she was taking advantage of their relationship by bringing a detective here. But Hunter had to have free access to everything in order to do his job.
She stood in the center of the room, watching as he looked around. “So your father used this office to meet with people from his congregation?”
“Occasionally. He had a study at the church, but it was easier to maintain the farm if he worked out here.”
“He was home a lot, then.”
“Quite a bit. But he was always busy.”
“Can you remember any of the people who came out here to visit him in the days immediately prior to his disappearance?”
“There’s a list in the police files.”
He nodded. “Good. Any chance you can show me where that guy was working on the tractor?”
“Of course.”
He headed toward the entrance, but Clay blocked the doorway.
“Clay,” Allie said. Hunter spoke at the same time.
“Do you have a problem with me being here, Mr. Montgomery?” he asked.
“Clay’s put up with a lot,” Madeline said, but Clay raised a hand.
“You don’t have to make excuses for me, Maddy.”
“I just want him to understand. So he doesn’t jump to the wrong conclusion.”
“And what conclusion would that be?” Hunter asked.
Madeline curled her nails into her palms. Hunter wasn’t as intimidated by Clay as most men. Maybe he was shorter and had a smaller build, but he had a will that was every bit as strong. She hadn’t expected to find that beneath his Hollywood smile and beach bum manner.
“My stepbrother’s easily misunderstood,” she said so he wouldn’t automatically assume that Clay was guilty of any greater sin than being guarded.
Hunter thrust out his chin. It was a slight movement, but Madeline noticed it and grew more worried. “I think he’s making himself pretty clear,” Hunter muttered.
Allie had stepped over to the door and, as usual, tried to act as a peacemaker and go-between for Clay. Gently maneuvering Clay out of Hunter’s way, she chuckled. “The testosterone levels are running a bit too high, guys. This is a friendly meeting, remember?”
Hunter ignored her. “You’re not interested in helping me find out what happened to your stepfather,” he said as he moved into the larger part of the barn.
“Not particularly,” Clay admitted.
Hunter’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I’d be interested to hear why.”
Clay glanced at Madeline, and she sent him a pleading look. “It’s not going to change the fact that he’s gone. Far as I’m concerned, you’re just more trouble.”
“It’d bring Madeline some peace if she knew,” Hunter said.
“Says you,” Clay retorted. “But you don’t know her or care about her the way we do, so don’t talk to me about what would or wouldn’t be good for my sister.”
“She’s the one who brought me.”
“That’s the only reason you’re still standing here.”
Hunter didn’t back down. He stood his ground, returning Clay’s glare. And despite herself, Madeline was impressed. Clay was so intense that, at times, he made even those who were close to him a little nervous.
“Where did the police search when they came?” Hunter asked. He was still addressing Clay, refusing to give in, as most other men would’ve done. But it was Allie who answered. Madeline guessed she was just as eager to defuse the tension between the two men as Madeline was.
“The first time, they searched the house and the barn.”
“They searched more than once?” This finally pulled Hunter’s attention away from Clay.
Allie nodded. “Eighteen months ago, they took a backhoe to the yard. They didn’t find anything, of course.”
“Why would they do that after so long?” he asked.
“Because of Joe Vincelli,” Madeline explained. “He followed Grace over here one night, decided she was about to exhume my father’s body and move it to a better hiding place.”
“Did she have a shovel?”
“Yes.”
“What was she doing?”
“She’d come here to dig, like he said, but only to prove that all the rumors were false,” Madeline told him.
Hunter seemed skeptical. “Then why not do it during the day?”
“Because she knew I’d never let her,” Clay responded, chiming in for the first time since the standoff between them.
“Why not?” Hunter asked.
Clay smiled humorlessly. “Because I’m not stupid.”
“They’ve been hoping to pin this on Clay for a long time,” Allie said. “He couldn’t take the chance that they might stumble upon something they could misinterpret, something that might appear to give him more of a motive or whatever. People see what they want to see, you know? I was a police officer for ten years, spent five of those as a cold case detective. I’ve watched it happen before.”
“So you approve of your husband’s refusal to cooperate?” he asked.
Her smile disappeared and she stepped closer to Clay. “Completely.”
Hunter nodded at Madeline. “I’m finished here.”
“You don’t want to see where Jed was working on the tractor?” she asked, surprised by his abrupt change.
Hunter had already started moving. “You can show me when we leave.”
But he barely looked when she pointed out the back part of the barn. And he didn’t speak until they reached the car. Then he got in, slammed the door and said, “Your stepbrother’s hiding something.”
Chapter Twelve
Madeline refused to look over at Hunter while she drove, for fear he’d see the uncertainty she worked so hard to deny, the uncertainty she often concealed in vociferous protestations of Clay’s innocence.
“You’re making the same mistake as everyone else,” she said flatly.