Free Dead Right by Brenda Novak Page B

told Madeline, there might be other cases out there. Besides, you never know what we might come up with in the future, right?”
    Pontiff knew her professional background, knew she should readily agree. So she did. But she was praying the whole time that the scientists at the lab wouldn’t be able to develop the sample he hoped for. If they did, she knew whose DNA they might find. She also knew they might be able to match it to the panties she’d just identified as her own.

5
    I rene seemed to have taken the day’s events harder than anyone. Madeline helped her out to her car, then returned to the police station so she could talk with Chief Pontiff.
    â€œI have a private investigator coming from California,” she told him. “He might be able to help you decide what to do with all this—” she waved toward the box where he’d put the sacks of evidence “—stuff.”
    Pontiff hesitated, obviously not as pleased with this news as she’d expected him to be. “I can do my own job, Maddy,” he said. “I understand you’ve been disappointed in the past, but I’m already planning to do everything that can be done. There’s no need to bring in an outsider.”
    â€œHe might see something we’ve missed,” she argued.
    â€œThe only one missing anything is you,” Radcliffe piped up, sounding exasperated. He had plenty of filing left to do—evidenced by the tall stack teetering at his elbow—but he was more interested in eavesdropping. “Didn’t you see how Clay reacted? He nearly lost his composure.”
    â€œYes, I saw!” Madeline snapped, her patience wearing thin. “He was upset. But why wouldn’t he be? That was his sister’s underwear lying on the table.”
    Pontiff sent Radcliffe a quelling glance and stepped between them. “Maddy, we’ve grown up together. I’ve seen your pain and frustration over the years, and I’ve felt plenty of my own when it comes to your father’s case. This whole town has. The police chiefs before me couldn’t get to the bottom of it, but I’m determined to be different. I plan to find the truth, okay?”
    â€œThen what’ll it hurt to have some help?” she asked.
    â€œI don’t want anyone getting in my way. This investigator is from…where did you say? California? He’ll have no idea how things are done in Mississppi.”
    But maybe that was good, Madeline thought. Then he wouldn’t be influenced by the Vincellis, wouldn’t have to worry about making the folks around her angry. “An investigation is an investigation,” she said. “I hope you’ll do what you can to cooperate with him.”
    Toby’s jaw tightened, which told her he wasn’t pleased with her answer. “What do you hope to achieve?”
    â€œResolution,” she said and left.
    Â 
    To Madeline, the rest of the week passed with agonizing slowness. After Rachel Simmons’s drowning, and the subsequent discovery of the Cadillac, it felt as if the whole town was holding its breath, waiting and watching to see what would happen next. Mothers who generally let their children run freely through Stillwater neighborhoods were keeping them closer to home. And, as she feared would be the case, Clay’s name was often associated with talk that there might be a sexual predator in their midst.
    Madeline couldn’t believe anyone could suspect her stepbrother of being a pedophile. So what if the policehad found a few dark hairs in the driver’s seat of the Cadillac? It’d been the family car, for crying out loud.
    But it wasn’t just the hair, and she knew it. It was the fact that he didn’t give a damn what others thought of him and didn’t bother to hide it. They used his indifference as justification to blame him for anything they’d rather not see in someone else, even though he didn’t fit