Page 72 of Deception

“I’m sorry. Mind if I stop by a minute?”

She hesitated. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

Something in her voice bothered him. “Why not?”

“I don’t want you to wake her up.”

“I won’t. I just want to see her.” When Jen reluctantly agreed, he pointed his SUV toward his sister’s house. She let him in with a finger to her lips and then glanced over her shoulder.

“Keep your voice down,” Jen said, her voice not much more than a shaky whisper.

A tense undercurrent filled the room. “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. You tell me. Do you need money?”

She shook her head and shooed him down the hall. “And remember—don’t wake her up,” she mouthed.

“Yes, ma’am.” Now she had him whispering. Clayton tiptoed to his niece’s bedroom. She’d kicked her blanket off and lay curled in a ball. It was all he could do to keep from stroking her hair as he tucked the blanket around her.

His gaze traveled to the red birthmark on her cheek. The pediatrician had said it would fade before she started school, but it hadn’t. Clayton had researched and discovered some never faded. If Jen’s worthless husband hadn’t quit his job, it could’ve been fixed a year ago, before she started school. Jake’s insurance company had been one of the few that didn’t consider a port wine stain on the face cosmetic surgery, especially in a child.

He bent over and lightly kissed her head, then eased out of the bedroom. Jen sat on the sofa, her hands working furiously with her knitting needles. She looked up when he returned to the great room, and for a second, she seemed to hold her breath.

“How are you fixed for money?”

“I’ve already told you that we’re fine.” She glanced toward the hallway again, then finished the row and laid her work aside. “Thanks for coming by.”

“Why are you in such a hurry to get rid of me?”

She shifted her gaze to the floor. “Clayton, I’m beat. It’s been a long day, and every other customer I checked out found something to complain about. Either the price of lettuce was too high or the meat had too much fat ... like I could do something about it.”

Jen was downright jittery. Something wasn’t right. He scanned the room, and his shoulders tightened. Someone had draped a black leather jacket over the back of a kitchen chair. Not just someone. “Where’s Jake?” he asked through clenched teeth.

Silence filled the room until a man stepped from the kitchen.

Jake Prescott. Pressure started in Clayton’s chest and shot to his head. “What are you doing here?”

Jake glanced at Jen. “I told you I shouldn’t hide.” He planted his feet squarely on the floor and took a deep breath. “This is my family. I have a right to be here.”

“You have no rights.” Clayton glared at him. “You gave them up when you walked away from your family.”

Jake’s face flushed. “I know that, but I wouldn’t have done it if it hadn’t been for the drugs. I’m clean now.”

Clayton ignored the pleading in his former brother-in-law’s eyes and turned to Jen. “Tell your ex he’s not wanted here.”

“He’s not my ex. We’re still married.”

Clayton stared at his sister, not comprehending her words. He had been there when she went to court. “What do you mean, you’re still married?”

Jen crossed her arms. “I ... withdrew the papers before they were final.”

Her words hit him harder than any fist could have. He stepped back. “That doesn’t mean you have to let him back in your life.”

“He’s changed. Give him a chance.”

Clayton balled his hand. “When pigs fly.”

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