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she’d gotten a raise, but even an idiot would guess she couldn’t be making that much.
    â€œConsidering I get up at four most mornings—” and that he hadn’t slept at all last night “—I don’t feel too sorry for you,” he said. Especially because he knew she wasn’t really grumbling about being dragged out of bed. She hated anyone to catch her before she could “get her face on,” as she put it. Even him. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen his mother without the thick mascara she wore on her lashes and the deep red lipstick she put on her lips. “Are you going to let me in or not?”
    â€œOf course.” She tightened her bathrobe, then patted her dark hair, which she usually backcombed, before stepping to the side. “What’s gotten into you, anyway? What’s wrong?”
    He barely fit inside the cluttered room. Since he’d last been over a month ago, his mother had acquired a new leather couch, two lamps, a big-screen TV and some sort of fancy tea cart.
    â€œTell me you quit seeing him,” he said the moment she closed the door.
    â€œI don’t know what you’re talking about,” she responded, but she wouldn’t look him in the eye.
    The gardenia scent of her perfume lingered as she headed straight to the kitchen, which had been remodeled so that it opened directly into the living room. “Would you like some coffee? I have the most delicious blend.”
    Gourmet coffee. Allie’s father was sure taking care of her. “Do you realize what you’re doing?” he asked in amazement, following her. “Do you know what you’re risking?”
    â€œStop it,” she replied. “I’m living, like everyone else.”
    She was living, all right—in denial. Most of the time, her unwillingness to acknowledge what had happened to Barker was harmless enough. As long as Clay was around to take care of her and his sisters, he figured everything would be okay. He wanted them to be happy…and to forget. That was why he stayed on the farm. That was why he diligently guarded any evidence to be found there. So they could have the kind of life he wanted for them. But if Irene refused to listen, all his efforts could soon be for nothing. “Allie McCormick is working on Lee’s disappearance,” he told her.
    She revealed no visible sign of distress. “Not officially.”
    â€œThat doesn’t matter. She used to be a cold case detective. She’s trained in forensics.”
    â€œI know.” She continued to make coffee. “She’s an excellent police officer, just like her father.”
    The proud note in his mother’s voice made Clay’s jaw drop. “What?”
    â€œGrace told me all about her,” she said. “But don’t worry. Allie’s been through a painful divorce. She’s lonely and bored, so it’s natural that she’d want to poke around a bit. What else is there for a crack detective to do in a one-horse town like this? She’ll grow bored with it eventually.”
    â€œBored,” he repeated, unbelieving.
    â€œIt’s Madeline who’s egging her on, you know.”
    â€œAllie’s not just toying with this case, Mother. Unless I completely misread her, and I don’t think I did, she’s serious about locating your husband—or what’s left of him. That doesn’t concern you?”
    He knew he should add that Beth Ann’s accusations wouldn’t help matters. After last night, Allie had to be more curious about him and the case than ever. But he’d been stupid to allow himself to fall into the mess his relationship with Beth Ann had become, and he was ashamed to have put his mother and sisters at risk.
    Irene turned her back to him while she sealed the small package of gourmet coffee. “Why should anything Allie does concern me?” she asked. “What