Free Dead Silence by Brenda Novak Page B

brother…Hadn’t she lost enough?
    â€œYou weren’t even there.” Madeline had been spending the night with a girlfriend, completely unaware that anything unusual was happening at home. But then, she’d been unaware of a lot of things. The reverend made sure of that.
    â€œJed said something strange to me once when I was at the shop to pick up my Jeep,” Kirk said. “At the time, I blew it off. But after talking to Matt…”
    Grace stared at her own reflection in the window again. “What was it?”
    â€œI was asking him about that night. At first, he wouldn’t say much, just gave all the same old lines. But when I asked him what he believes happened to Lee Barker, he said he thinks Madeline’s father got exactly what he deserved.”
    A shiver ran from Grace’s head to her feet.
    â€œWhat he deserved? ” Madeline repeated. “See, Grace? My dad was a preacher, for heaven’s sake. A good man. What could he deserve? ”
    Grace closed her eyes, yearning for the innocence Madeline took for granted. “It means Jed didn’t like him, that’s all.”
    â€œNo, it’s more than that,” Madeline said. “And I’m going to prove it.”
    Â 
    The rain came in a constant downpour that night. For the first time since Grace had moved into Evonne’s house, she felt out of place as she sat alone on the leather couch in the living room, watching the water cascade down the back windows. Her conversation with Madeline and Kirk bothered her, but no more than the storm. She kept picturing the gullies formed by the runoff, the water moving the topsoil at the farm, dumping it into the irrigation ditches and washing it far away from the trees behind the barn. They hadn’t had time to dig much of a hole….
    But no one had found Barker’s grave in eighteen years.
    She poured herself some more wine. What if Madeline managed to convince the police that Jed had killed her father? Would he defend himself by revealing all he knew? What would that be? And how would she face Madeline again if her stepsister ever learned the truth?
    She sipped her chardonnay, remembering her encounter with Clay a week ago. She’d told him she was here to decide whether or not to come forward. But that was a lie. Her hands were tied, and they both knew it. Or she would’ve told the truth years ago.
    So why was she here? To find some way to justify her continued silence, she decided. To live with what had happened. That was all.
    Trying to shake off the foreboding that seemed to hang around her like cobwebs, she set her glass aside and used her cell phone, which lay on the seat next to her, to call Clay.
    â€œHello?”
    She took a small measure of comfort in her brother’s deep, steady voice. “I hate nights like this,” she said without a greeting. “Don’t they make you want to sit out on the porch with your gun—see what might turn up?”
    There was a significant pause. “Nothing’s going to turn up, Grace. Not while I’m here.”
    She rubbed the goose bumps from her arms. “But the rain…”
    â€œIt’s just rain.”
    â€œIt’s not just rain. Combined with the heat and the smells creeping in from outside…It brings it all back so vividly. Like it was yesterday.”
    â€œIt wasn’t yesterday,” he said. “It was a long, long time ago. Everyone’s moved on.”
    â€œThat’s bullshit, Clay.” She pulled a lap blanket over herself, even though her skin felt clammy. “ You haven’t moved on. You’re still guarding that damn farm. I haven’t moved on. I’m right back where I started. Even Madeline hasn’t moved on. She’s continuously searching for her father, for answers. Now she’s convinced it was Jed.”
    â€œThere are others who think the same thing,” he said.
    â€œWell, she’s out to prove