Page 79 of Deception

“You did.”

She nodded and pushed the file toward him. “It’s about my father.”

Clayton opened the folder, and his eyes widened. “This is—”

“I know. The photos predate my mother’s death so it’s evidence of my father cheating on her.”

“Does he know this file exists?”

“I’m sure he does.” She explained seeing him rifle through hergrandfather’s file cabinet. “I quietly returned to my room and pretended to come out again, slamming the door. When I got downstairs, he was in the kitchen.”

“But he hasn’t seen this?” He tapped the file.

She shook her head. “If he had, he would’ve taken it so I couldn’t find it. He’s probably looking through Grandfather’s files again as we speak.”

Clayton flipped through the pages of the report. “Do you know the woman involved?”

She clenched her jaw so hard, pain shot through it. “Not by name, but it’s probably the woman he told me about last night. He’s getting married again.”

He looked up from the file. “Didn’t your mom just die?”

“Four months ago.” She looked toward the street to check her emotions, then turned back to Clayton. “My grandfather had something he wanted to discuss with me Wednesday night. Before he could, Hugh called about Dani, and I had to leave. I wonder if it was this?”

“Do you think your mother knew about the affair?”

“I don’t know. She had issues, and they didn’t have the best of relationships. She never mentioned it to me, but she wouldn’t have.”

Clayton refilled his cup and nodded at her empty cup. “More?”

“Please.” She waited until he set the carafe back on the table to ask the question that was uppermost on her mind. Madison hated that she even let the thought take root. “What if he killed Grandfather to get this?” Last night she’d been certain he was innocent, but this morning doubts had crept in. “He was less than two hours away. And he would have known where Grandfather kept his revolver.”

Clayton thought a minute before he responded. “Is your dad proficient in firearms?”

She blinked. “I-I don’t know. I’ve never seen him with one.”

“He never fired one of yours?”

“Good grief, no. He made it plain that I was wasting my talent with the National Park Service. He would’ve viewed shooting my gun as tacit approval.”

“Does he carry one when he travels?”

“I’m sure he doesn’t unless he packs it in his checked bag, and even that would be a hassle. You don’t think he shot him?”

Before Clayton could respond, the door to the restaurant opened and the waitress brought out their food.

She set Madison’s yogurt and oatmeal in front of her, then Clayton’s full plate. “Aren’t you two chilly?”

“We’re fine.” Madison inhaled the hearty aroma of the biscuits and country ham on his plate. She hadn’t known it came with that kind of ham or biscuits.

“Want me to share?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“No,” she said too quickly and glanced down at her food. “Maybe just a tiny corner of that ham ... and half a biscuit.”

He laughed out loud and cut the slice of ham in half. “Here you go,” he said, forking it to her plate. Then he added a biscuit. “I have plenty.”

Both were every bit as good as she thought they would be and much more satisfying than what she’d ordered. “Thank you.” She wiped her fingers with her napkin. They had let the subject of her father drop, and now it was time to return to it. “You don’t think my dad could’ve shot my grandfather?”

“I’ve been thinking it over while we ate, and while it’s not impossible, I don’t think so. He seemed very uncomfortable that we wore guns last night.”

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