Dead Giveaway Read Online Free Page B

virile—man.
    â€œWould you say it’s possible she hasn’t been taking her pills?” Somehow Allie managed to maintain eye contact despite the extremely personal nature of her question.
    â€œMaybe. But not likely. She wouldn’t get pregnant on purpose.”
    He said that with absolute certainty, but Allie could tell his mind was frantically racing through possibilities. He seemed so panicked, she almost felt sorry for him. “Because…”
    â€œBecause she wouldn’t want to be saddled with a baby and no husband to take care of her. She knows I don’t love her. I’ve never led her to believe otherwise.”
    â€œMaybe she thought a baby would make you change your mind.”
    â€œGod.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.
    â€œMr. Montgomery?”
    Dropping his hand, he sighed as he met her eyes. “I want a pregnancy test. Tonight.”
    â€œI can’t force her to take one.”
    â€œOf course not,” he said dryly. “You wouldn’t want to invade anyone else’s privacy. Why break with tradition?”
    Allie let the verbal jab go because he had a point. The police and others had sometimes pressed him too hard. “I can’t force her,” she explained, “but I will tell you that if her other claims serve as any indication of her truthfulness in general, I don’t think she’s pregnant.”
    At this, his eyebrows drew together, and he studied her more closely. Allie got the impression he was so used to being bullied by police that he couldn’t believe she’d offer even this small amount of comfort. He seemed to suspect her of laying a trap for him, of trying to gain his trust so she could stab him in the back. “We didn’t argue over anything like that,” he insisted.
    â€œBut you did argue.”
    â€œI asked her to leave. It’s my house. I should have that prerogative.”
    â€œWould you do me a favor, Mr. Montgomery?”
    â€œWhat’s that?” he asked, continuing to search her face.
    â€œWill you show me your hands?”
    His expression darkened as if he’d finally guessed her motive. “No.”
    â€œMr. Montgomery—”
    â€œI grow cotton, Officer McCormick. I rebuild antique cars. I fix my own tractors and repair my own house, barn and outbuildings. In other words, I use my hands. A lot. They’re not going to look like some pencil-pusher’s from the big city. I won’t let you use a knick here or a cut there as proof that I struck her.”
    The fact that he’d called her Officer McCormick without even glancing at her badge told Allie he’d known all along who she was. They hadn’t exchanged a word since she’d been back, but his familiarity with her didn’t come as any big surprise. Word traveled fast in Stillwater.
    â€œI’m not unrealistic, Mr. Montgomery,” she assured him. “Beth Ann has accused you of a very serious crime, and it’s my job to see if that accusation has any basis.”
    â€œAnd if I refuse to cooperate?”
    â€œIt might raise my suspicions.”
    â€œWhich would affect the situation in what way, exactly?”
    She lifted her chin at the challenge in his voice. It wasn’t much, but it was all she could do to overcome his tremendous height advantage. “I might have to arrest you and take you down to the station.”
    â€œYou and what army?” he asked, his eyes narrowing at the threat.
    She smiled sweetly. “Trust me. I could arrange it.”
    â€œI’d get an attorney,” he countered. “I happen to know a good one.”
    He was referring to his sister Grace, of course, who’d worked as an assistant district attorney in Jackson before moving back to Stillwater nine months ago. “That’s your choice,” Allie said as amiably as possible. “Grace can join us. But if I remember right, she’s about to deliver a baby. Do