Her Scream in the Silence: Carly Moore #2

by Denise Grover Swank

  I released a harsh laugh. “Doesn’t it seem strange to you that my car broke down and I just stayed?”

  He cocked his head. “Your car didn’t break down? You were a plant?”

  “No, I actually did have the supreme bad luck of getting stranded here. And it was true I was stuck here, but you and I both know I could have left. In fact, I considered hopping on a bus and getting the hell out of here during Seth’s murder investigation.”

  “But you stayed,” he said. “Was it for Wyatt? Hank? Because you like Max, Ruth, and Tiny?”

  “All of the above,” I said quietly. “But I’m also hiding, Marco.”

  He drew in a short breath. “Are we talkin’ a domestic violence situation, or are you runnin’ away from a legal matter?”

  “I’ve done nothing illegal,” I said. “So you can wipe that concern from your conscience. It’s more similar to the first. The people looking for me have the means to find me. Money. Resources.” I leaned in closer and held his gaze. “There are no CCTV cameras in Drum. I have a new identity. I thought I would be relatively safe here, so I stayed.” But that wasn’t quite the full story, so I added, “But I only stayed because of the people. I could have gone off the grid somewhere else. At least I have friends here.”

  He studied me as though I’d sprouted a second head. “I have a ton of questions, but I won’t ask most of them because you would have shared the information if you’d wanted me to have it, so let’s go with this one. The way you said relatively safe makes me think your identity has been compromised. Has it?”

  “Remember what I told you about running into Bart Drummond? He wants to meet with me next week. And the way he said my name…he knows it’s not my real one. He knows I’m in hiding.” When Marco didn’t say anything, I added, “In hindsight, I should have seen it coming. He seemed intrigued by me at the funeral. It stands to reason that he would have had me investigated.”

  “And you think he’s going to blackmail you with it?”

  “Possibly. The other option is to give me up, but if he planned on turning me over, I’m not sure why he’d go to the trouble of warning me first. Besides, I doubt he’s really interested in half a million dollars.”

  Marco blinked and then his eyes bugged out. “Half a million dollars?”

  “Thinkin’ about turnin’ me in, Marco?” I asked in a dry tone, my accent slipping in.

  He turned serious. “Who the hell wants you that badly, Carly?”

  I remained silent. I realized he could find out easily enough, but the lack of internet or cell phone service would make it harder.

  “How would Bart know someone’s lookin’ for you?”

  “It’s public information,” I said. “A few weeks ago, the person hunting me offered a large reward for my ‘safe’ return.” I used air quotes around safe.

  “If they’re willing to go public, surely there’s no danger?”

  I got to my feet. “Look, I realize it’s a lot to take in, and I know you want more information. You have no idea how much I appreciate your restraint. But trust me when I say he will find a way to make it look like an accident. A car crash. A drug overdose. I won’t last long once he has me back.”

  He ran a hand over his head, looking like he was about to be sick. “Jesus, Carly. Who the hell were you mixed up with? Must be one hell of an ex.”

  I released a bitter laugh. “You have no idea.”

  He frowned and pushed out a breath. “Let Wyatt take you home. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at nine, and we’ll get back to investigating. We can come up with a plan in the morning.”

  “As much as I’d like to think otherwise, you have no business going out tomorrow, Marco. You need to stay home and rest.”

  “I’ll rest tonight.” He planted his hands on the table and got up to stand on his right foot. “I’ll pick you up at nine.”

  “Okay.” I knew I should insist he stay home, but I’d go crazy sitting around all day, worried about Lula and Greta, and his warning hadn’t fallen on deaf ears. It would be foolish of me to go out alone. I’d just have to make sure he took it easier tomorrow.

  I picked up my purse and coat from the coffee table and headed for the door. Wyatt was leaning with his back against the front of his pickup truck. He pushed away when he saw me, but his gaze darkened as he took in Marco hopping out behind me and holding on to the doorframe.

  “You be careful tonight, Carly,” Marco called out. “Call me if you have any sign of trouble.”

  I knew exactly what he was up to—trying to stoke Wyatt’s protective instinct.

  “I don’t need you to fight my battles, Marco,” I called out as I marched toward Wyatt’s truck.

  I heard him chuckle.

  Wyatt looked pissed, but he just stomped to his side of the truck and got inside as I did. Yep, he was pissed. He was usually eager to open car doors for me.

  Marco waved with a grin as Wyatt started the truck and backed up. We were both silent until he pulled out onto the road.

  “You gonna tell me what’s goin’ on?” he finally asked.

  “You gonna treat me like a grown woman and not a four-year-old girl?” I countered.

  “Carly…”

  I shifted in my seat to face him. “I don’t get it. A couple of nights ago, you trusted me to handle Todd Bingham on my own. Why don’t you trust me with this?”

  “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he said. “But I don’t think you appreciate the danger you’re puttin’ yourself in.”

  “What made you so concerned about it? Your visit with Max?”

  “That and your conversation about Shane Jones.” He shrugged off my look of disapproval. “It’s not like I was trying to eavesdrop. Marco’s louder than an auctioneer. And he did tell me to wait right outside.”

  “Marco has a deputy friend looking into him.”

  “Why was this guy following you?” he asked. “Because his excuse for dropping by the garage was total bullshit.”

  “He wanted a carburetor?” I asked. He shot me a quick glance, his brow raised, and I explained, “I stopped by your office before I left, but your door was partially closed. I heard you on the phone asking about one, but I didn’t wait because of Marco.”

  “Who looked just fine when I walked in a few minutes ago.”

  “Come on, Wyatt. You saw him behind the garage, and he got a lot worse after we left. I was so worried about him that I called his doctor, who told me to watch for signs of internal bleeding, which was why I went to Ewing for a blood pressure cuff. In any case, Marco slept for at least a couple of hours, and by the time I got back, he looked much better.”

  When he didn’t respond, I said, “He was shot less than a month ago. He had major surgery and his spleen was removed. He did too much today, and it wiped him out. He wasn’t trying to pull a fast one on me, for whatever reason you’ve concocted in your head.”

  “Are you gonna stop investigatin’ Lula’s disappearance?”

  “No,” I said flatly. “Marco’s going to pick me up tomorrow morning, and we’re going to keep looking into it.”

  “Why don’t you let the sheriff’s department handle it?”

  “Because they won’t,” I said, starting to get angry, but I knew my anger was only partially for him. A good portion of it was reserved for the sheriff’s department. “Both Ginger and Angie at Watson’s Café reported Greta’s disappearance, and last I heard, they wouldn’t look into it.”

  “They won’t look into it yet,” he said, “Junior told me, but the forty-eight hours should be up soon. They’ll get started then.”

  “You really believe that? Because I’ve seen how the sheriff’s department works around here. Even if they do take the case, I doubt they’ll give it half as much attention as we’ve given it.”

  “It’s too dangerous, Carly.”

  It was dangerous, and I wasn’t stupid. It scared the snot out of me.

  But I was getting used to being scared. I’d been running for month
s now, and I’d risked my life attempting to find justice for Seth. Fear was a given. And something else was motivating me now, something I couldn’t possibly ignore. A lump filled my throat.

  “Greta’s gone because of me, Wyatt.” My voice broke. “Someone took her because I was asking questions about Lula. I’m responsible for her being taken.”

  I’d been trying not to think about it, but the thought had been there with me all day.

  His voice softened. “You are not responsible, Carly.”

  “No one would have taken her if I hadn’t been asking questions.”

  He was silent for a moment, and when he spoke, all the fight had bled out of him. “Do you really think Max is part of all this?”

  “He’s part of it in some way. We just haven’t figured out how.”

  And part of me didn’t want to.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  We were silent for the rest of the drive. I was trying to make all the information Marco and I had found fit together, and I was sure Wyatt was thinking about what we’d told him. He might be estranged from his brother, but it was obvious that he cared.

  When Wyatt pulled up in front of Hank’s house, he turned off the engine and started to open the door but stopped when he realized I wasn’t moving.

  He shifted sideways to face me, the vinyl under his legs creaking.

  I kept my gaze fixed on the windshield. “Why are you and Max at odds? You were close as kids. What happened to tear you apart?”

  He sat still for so long I didn’t think he was going to answer, but he finally said, “It’s not one thing. It’s the culmination of a lot of things. Our father always treated us differently. Max called me the golden boy. He claimed I could do no wrong in our father’s eyes, while Max was always in trouble.”

  He shifted in his seat again, stretching out his legs and resting his wrist on the steering wheel while he released a bitter laugh. “It was true. Our father always made it clear I would take over the family businesses, and he prepared me for it from a young age. He didn’t spend any time on Max. In my father’s eyes, there was no point to it. So Max saw no point in trying to follow the rules.

  “Believe it or not, we were still close. We were still brothers, and I understood his pain.” He took a breath. “It helped when Max went away to college. Even though he had Marco as a tether to this place, it was the first time he’d finally had a chance to live his life out from underneath the shadow of the Drum legacy. Nobody gave a shit that his family owned the middling Drummond distillery, and the logging business was long gone. Max was finally free, and he thrived there. He was making plans to move to Nashville with Marco after graduation. He was happy.”

  “So what happened? Your arrest?”

  “Like I said, a lot of things. He resented that our father forced him to come home to take over the bar.”

  “But how could he force him?” I asked. “He was in his last semester of college. If Bart threatened to cut him off financially, Max could have found a job to help cover the rent and food.”

  “Max’s relationship with our father has always been complicated. While Max hated the way he was treated, part of him still wanted our father to love him. So when Bart came callin’, my brother came runnin’ home.”

  I shook my head. “No. It wasn’t that easy for him. He didn’t come back until your mother went to see him.”

  Wyatt’s body froze. “What?”

  “You didn’t know?” I asked. “That’s the story Marco told me. He got your dad’s call and blew him off. But your mother came to see him, and he went on a bender. He left to go home a few days after that.”

  Wyatt sat still, staring out the windshield. “I have to go.”

  “You have to go talk to Max?” I waited several seconds for him to respond, and when he didn’t, I shook my head and reached for the door handle. “Screw you, Wyatt.” Jerking the door open, I jumped out and slammed it shut behind me.

  He was out of the truck and at the front of the hood before I got there. “What the hell, Carly? You want me to open up, and I did, but it’s still not enough?”

  Shaking with frustration, I shouted, “No! It’s not enough. I asked a yes or no question, and you refused to answer. A yes or no question about whether you’re going to see your brother!”

  “This is complicated!” he shouted. “And believe it or not, it’s not all about you!”

  I took a step back as though he’d slapped me. “I don’t want it to be all about me, Wyatt. I want it to be about you too, but you won’t let me in!” I released a pent-up groan of frustration. “Go see Max, but don’t come back until you’re actually willing to talk, because I’m tired of playing this stupid game.”

  I brushed past him and raced up the porch steps, then went inside and slammed the door behind me.

  Hank stared up at me from his recliner, his mouth open, but I didn’t give him an explanation, just stomped into my room and paced and stewed for a good ten minutes. When I finally settled down, I took a deep breath and headed out to the kitchen.

  “I’ll start heating up your dinner,” I said as I walked through the living room. An old movie was playing on the television.

  I poured a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge and stared out the window while I sipped it.

  I had to leave Drum.

  I’d lost my job. I’d broken up with Wyatt, and I suspected Bart knew who I was. I’d be stupid to stay, but the thought of leaving Hank broke my heart.

  And that was what finally broke me.

  I started to cry.

  “Carly, come out here and tell me what’s goin’ on,” Hank called out.

  I had to tell him sometime, so I might as well do it while I was already upset.

  Carrying my glass of water, I went out to the living room and sat down on the sofa next to the recliner.

  “Why aren’t you at work?” he asked.

  “Max fired me.”

  “What?” he asked with a mixture of disbelief and anger. “Why?”

  “He’s upset that I’m looking for Lula.”

  “Were you usin’ work time to look for her?”

  I blinked in surprise. “No.”

  “Then those aren’t grounds to fire you. Why doesn’t he want you to find her?”

  I released a short laugh. “You really know how to cut through the bullshit.”

  He lifted his shoulders into a shrug and waited for my answer.

  “I think he either knows something about why she’s gone or had something to do with it. In fact, he was drunk off his ass this morning when Marco went by to talk to him, and we had to call Tiny to close the tavern.”

  “So you’re really not workin’ because the bar is closed.”

  “No,” I said. “He fired me.”

  “While he was drunk. What are the chances he’ll remember?”

  “I’d say pretty good considering Wyatt stopped by to see why he was closed, and Max told him he’d fired me.”

  He pursed his lips. “What happened with you and Wyatt out there?”

  “Same old shit, and shame on me for still fallin’ for it.” I set the water glass on the coffee table. “Hank, I need to ask you some more questions about Lula’s parents.”

  His eyes widened in surprise. “What does that matter now?”

  I sighed and sat back. “I don’t know, but I have this gut feeling it does.” I crossed my legs on the sofa. “I ran into Emily and Bart Drummond in Ewing this afternoon. Emily mentioned that Louise came to their house right before she shot her husband. She was there to see Bart.”

  He turned his attention to the television.

  “But Emily said Louise also mentioned your name.” I took a long look at his profile. “Walter Baker was working for you, wasn’t he?” Thelma had sure thought so, anyway.

  He released a snort. “Whoever told you that? That man was too stupid to tie his own shoelaces.”

  His reaction was so unrehearsed that I had to believe Thelma had gotten it wrong.
/>   “Why did you look so surprised when I told you Louise was getting out of jail?”

  “Because I hadn’t thought of her in years,” he said, shifting his gaze back to me. “Hearing you mention her name caught me off guard.”

  “I know you have a past, Hank. I learned that when we invited Bingham to take that dead body away.”

  “He wasn’t the first man I killed, girlie, and I doubt he’ll be the last.”

  I wasn’t surprised by the first part of his statement, but I wasn’t prepared for the rest of it. “Who else do you plan on killing?”

  His gaze darkened. “Whoever shows up lookin’ for you.”

  A cold chill washed through my body. “What makes you think someone’s going to come looking for me?”

  “I know you’re runnin’ from someone, and I’m prepared to deal with ’em when they darken my door.”

  A lump filled my throat. “You don’t even know what or who I’m runnin’ from.”

  “I don’t need to know,” he said in a gruff voice. “You’re kin, and kin sticks together.”

  The irony of his statement brought a round of fresh tears.

  He looked dismayed. “I didn’t mean to make you cry again.”

  How had I been lucky enough to find this man? Then again, it was his grandson’s death that had brought us together, and that hadn’t been good luck for anyone. “Not all kin sticks together, Hank. I’m running from my father.”

  His cheeks turned red. “Your daddy? Why?”

  “It’s a long story, but I’ll tell you this much: in August, I found out he’s part of a crime syndicate in Dallas, and I took off and went into hiding. He needs me back to protect his share, and he’ll do anything to get me. A few weeks ago, he offered a five-hundred-thousand-dollar reward for my ‘safe’ return, but I know I won’t be alive for long after he gets me back.”

  “Did you see something you weren’t supposed to?”

  “It’s complicated,” I said with a sigh. “But yeah. That’s part of it. I also found out that he’s not my biological father. He found out when I was a kid and had my mother killed.”

  “You’re thinkin’ about runnin’ again.”

  I locked eyes with him. “I lost my job. It will be awkward dealing with Wyatt, and I think Bart Drummond has figured out my secret.”