Dead Right by Brenda Novak Page A

a woman named Irene Montgomery.”
    â€œYou didn’t know her?”
    The rain pounded harder, but Madeline didn’t slow down. “No. They met at a regional singles dance. She was living in Booneville, which isn’t too far from Stillwater. He was forty-three and she was only thirty-two, but she needed an older man in her life.”
    Was it possible she’d needed a few other things, as well? Some creature comforts she could better enjoy without him? “Why older?” he asked.
    â€œShe’d dropped out of school, pregnant at sixteen. She married the father of her baby, but after they’d had two more children, he abandoned her. She didn’t have a lot of options, and was looking for some stability.”
    â€œAnd your father offered that.”
    She turned the knob for the windshield wipers until they were swishing back and forth at a frenetic pace. He guessed they were keeping time with her heart. But outwardly she remained calm. “Sure. He had the farm my stepbrother now owns, a good job, modest savings. And he was well-respected in the community.”
    Hunter leaned forward to see around the silky fall of her hair. “I thought your stepmother inherited the farm.” He’d made a note of it when they talked on the phone the first time she’d called because the farm might’ve provided the stepmother with a motive for murder.
    â€œShe did. But when Molly, my youngest sister, graduated from high school, my stepmother moved to town and my brother took over.”
    â€œIs it a nice piece of property?”
    The look she shot him said she’d heard the suspicion in his voice. “Don’t jump to that conclusion.”
    â€œWhat conclusion? It’s a logical question.”
    â€œI told you on the phone, my stepmother didn’t kill my father.”
    â€œYou were with her when your father went missing?”
    Her expression grew haunted. “No, I wasn’t home that night. I was staying at a friend’s.”
    â€œWho was at home?”
    â€œGrace and Molly and later, Clay. My mother was there part of the time, but she certainly wouldn’t kill the one person who was putting food on the table for her children. We almost starved after my father went missing. If it wasn’t for my stepbrother, we would’ve gone hungry—or been separated and taken into foster care.”
    â€œWhat’d he do to save the day?”
    â€œRan the farm, worked odd jobs in town, anything he had to do, really. That’s why my stepmother turned the farm over to him.”
    â€œSounds like he was the best-equipped to run it.”
    â€œHe was. And five years ago, he paid each of us our portion of what it was worth at the time my father went missing,” she added. “Which was very generous of him,” she added. “I wasn’t expecting any payment. We would’ve faced foreclosure without him.”
    â€œSo he’s done well?”
    â€œWell enough that he could lend me a significantamount of money last year when I needed to buy a new printing press.”
    Madeline’s reference to a recent loan hardly put Hunter at ease. Would she be able to pay him? There were a lot of things about this case that were making him uneasy. Beginning with the woman behind the wheel. “So Clay’s older?” he asked.
    â€œWe were both sixteen when everything fell apart.”
    â€œHe took responsibility for the family at sixteen? ”
    She smiled faintly. “He’s always been very capable.”
    Capable of murder? Sixteen was pretty young to kill, but it wouldn’t be the first time a teenager had resorted to deadly violence. Madeline readily admitted that Clay’s abilities had outdistanced his age. And she’d mentioned that there was a gun in the house. “How big is your brother?”
    â€œWell over six feet. Why?”
    â€œJust wondering.”
    Her lips formed a grim line.
    Hunter