Buried in Secrets
Page 18
“Do you need to stay with Hank tonight?”
“I don’t know,” I said, feeling torn. I hadn’t seen Hank for nearly twenty-four hours, and now I was only dropping in for breakfast. Then again, he wouldn’t be up when I got off work at midnight, which meant it would make no difference if I spent the night with Marco. “No.” I grinned. “Do you have something in mind?”
“Obviously, I’m bein’ too subtle.” He kissed me again, so thoroughly that when he pulled away, I forgot why I was sitting in my car.
“I’ll be here.”
He only laughed for a moment before turning serious. “I’m coming to the tavern tonight, but call and check in with me at some point today, okay? Or multiple times.”
“I’ll check in when I can.”
He hesitated, then reached in and cupped my cheek. “I love you.” Worry filled his eyes, like he was still afraid to say it. Like I’d suddenly change my mind.
“I love you too,” I said, still amazed that I was letting myself say it.
He shut my door, then watched from the porch as I backed out of the driveway and drove away. I indulged myself in a fantasy of coming home to Marco every night. He was the best man I’d ever known, and I knew that I could not only trust him, but he’d fill my life with happiness and fun. I wanted to give him that too.
If the chance wasn’t stolen from us.
Wyatt’s truck was in front of Hank’s house when I pulled up a few minutes after eight. I was halfway surprised Hank hadn’t convinced Wyatt to eat breakfast on the porch…and relieved that he hadn’t. I hurried inside, hearing the murmuring of voices in the kitchen, and dropped my overnight bag and purse in my room. Before I left, I scooped up Letty, who’d been curled up on the comforter, and carried her with me.
The two men were sitting at the kitchen table, and it looked like they were halfway through with their breakfast. Wyatt had made pancakes, and while he hadn’t cooked real bacon, he’d heated up some sausage links.
Hank glanced up at me and grinned from ear to ear, but Wyatt didn’t look happy.
“Sorry I’m late,” I said, standing in the kitchen doorway, rubbing the back of Letty’s head. “I overslept.”
Hank winked, then gestured to the empty chair on his right side, opposite Wyatt. “There’s still some breakfast left and plenty of coffee.”
Wyatt started to stand. “I’ll get you a cup.”
“I can get it,” I said, putting Letty down and heading for the coffee maker.
“I wanted to wait, but Hank said he wasn’t sure when you’d be here.”
“Sorry,” I said again, as I poured coffee into my cup. “I fully intended to be here, but like I said—”
“Don’t you apologize for stayin’ in bed,” Hank said. “Make hay while the sun shines.”
I glanced over my shoulder at him, trying to decide if he’d been become a pod person overnight. I’d never once heard him say something as quaint as “make hay while the sun shines.” The glare on Wyatt’s face suggested he’d never heard it either.
“Well,” I said, plastering a smile on my face, “I’m here now, and the pancakes look delicious.” I grabbed creamer out of the fridge and poured some into my cup, then sat down in the chair next to Hank.
Wyatt served me a couple of pancakes and handed the plate over the table as I sat down.
“Did Ruth hire a new waitress yet?” Wyatt asked, taking a sip of his coffee.
“No, not yet. Max is interviewing Ruth’s friend today.”
“Ruth’s friend?” he asked in surprise. “Who?”
“She didn’t tell me. I guess I’ll find out when I show up to Tutoring Club.” I spread butter over my pancake. “Because we all know the interview is a formality. If Ruth wants her working there, she’ll get the job.”
“Why’s Max hirin’ a new waitress?” Hank asked as he sawed on a sausage link.
I narrowed my eyes. “How many of those have you had?”
“Not enough,” Hank barked. “Now answer my question.”
“He finally fired Molly.”
“’Bout damn time.” Hank had heard plenty of Molly stories.
“How’s the tutoring club goin’?” Wyatt asked. “Max says you’re gettin’ a good turnout.”
“It’s going well. A lot of times kids don’t think learning can be fun, but I try to prove otherwise.” I told him a few stories about the kids and my plan to start a reward system for kids who read books from the library.
“Is Max helpin’ foot the bill for all of this stuff?” Wyatt asked.
“He’s providing the space.”
Wyatt frowned. “He needs to be makin’ a donation. I’ll have a talk with him.”
“Don’t do that,” I said. “This is my project, not his.”
“It’s bringin’ him business, and we both know it,” Wyatt said. “Besides, it’ll look good that he’s supportin’ the community.”
The way he said it made me think about Jim Palmer and all he’d done to support his community. Had it been out of the goodness of his heart, like I’d assumed, or had he been driven by ulterior motives?
In between bites of breakfast, I steered the conversation to Hank’s car, and Wyatt said he’d already ordered the parts and expected them to arrive in a few days. “The gas pedal gets shifted over to the left side to make it more comfortable for your left foot,” he told Hank. “It’ll just take some practice to get the hang of drivin’ that way.”
Hank scowled, looking skeptical.
“You need to learn how to drive again,” Wyatt said. “Truth be told, I should have done this months ago.”
“I ain’t no invalid,” Hank grumped.
“Which is exactly the point,” Wyatt said. “There’s no need for you to be stuck out here and dependent on Carly.”
I finished my pancakes, then we all went outside so Wyatt could check out Hank’s car, the kittens running out with us. Letty ran after the birds while Smoky sat on the porch, keeping her eye on Wyatt as though she didn’t trust him.
Smart kitten.
When he finished checking the gas pedal, he pronounced it would be fairly easy to make the changes. As he spoke, his gaze swept over the house, stopping on the patched roof. “You had some work done on the roof?”
Neither Hank nor I said anything for a beat, then Hank grunted. “There was a leak.”
“Who fixed it?”
“Corey Summers,” Hank said. “Mark’s boy.”
“From the looks of the shitty patch job, I hope he didn’t charge you much for it,” Wyatt said, making a face. “I’ll grab a ladder and take a look before I go.”
Hank shot me a guilty look, and I shook my head. I knew what he was thinking. If he hadn’t kept Wyatt away, he would have fixed it for free.
“I’m going to take a shower,” I said, gesturing toward the front door, then headed inside without waiting for anyone to acknowledge my remark.
I took a long time in the bathroom, washing my hair and shaving, slightly embarrassed when I realized it had been several days since I’d last shaved.
When I got out, I took my time drying my hair and putting on makeup. I put on a robe and went into my room, pulling out one of the few dresses I owned, a pale blue sundress that brought out the blue in my eyes. I put on a pair of white sandals, then emptied my overnight bag and repacked it with work clothes and shorts and a shirt to wear back to Hank’s in the morning.
When I went outside, Hank was in his chair with Smoky on his lap while Letty leapt at any bird that dared to land on the bird feeder.
“Your hellcat’s at it again,” he grumped.
“I’ll grab her.” I glanced over and realized Wyatt’s truck was still to the side of the house. “Wyatt’s still here?”
He pointed up. “He’s on the roof. You look nice. You dressin’ up for a certain man?”
I smiled. “If you’re insinuating it’s for the man on the roof, you’ve got another think coming.”
“Marco?” he pressed. My face f
lushed and he beamed. “Wise choice, girlie. Wise choice.”
“I know,” I said with a smile. It felt good, knowing I’d be seeing Marco later. Knowing I no longer had to hide from him or myself.
I walked out into the yard and found Wyatt up on the roof, removing shingles. “What are you doing?”
“I’m fixing this the right way, then hunting down Corey Summers and makin’ him reimburse Hank.”
I pinched my mouth shut, because if Corey had done a crappy job, Wyatt was doing us a favor.
He shifted his weight as he lined up an asphalt shingle. “I need to get a few supplies.”
“Okay,” I said. “Can you make sure it won’t leak if it rains tonight?”
“Yeah. I’ll do a quick patch job and fix it tomorrow.”
“Thanks.”
I headed inside, because being outside felt like I was leading Wyatt on. I’d hoped he’d be gone by the time I finished, but I was grateful he was helping Hank. That was what I wanted, right? For Wyatt to be there for Hank when I couldn’t be. The ultimate goal was to be free of my father, but I wasn’t naïve enough to think that would come quickly. I had to assume I’d spend more time running.
The library didn’t open until ten, so I decided to do some of the neglected housework. Since we hadn’t cleaned up the breakfast mess, I put on an apron to keep my dress clean and filled the sink with soapy water. I’d finished washing and drying all the dishes and had started cooking a pot of black beans and rice for Hank’s dinner when Wyatt walked into the kitchen, his hands covered in dirt. “I got it patched up, so it will be good to go for now.”
“Thanks.”
He started to head toward the bathroom before abruptly turning back. “You look really pretty. The dress makes your eyes bluer.”
Oh crap. I was giving him the wrong impression, and I needed to nip this in the bud. “I didn’t wear this for you, Wyatt,” I said as kindly as I could.
Something flickered in his eyes. “I never presumed you did. I’m just makin’ an observation.”
“Well, thank you.”
He disappeared down the hall and I got out a bag of carrots to roast while the beans and rice were cooking.
He came back a few minutes later, staying in the opening of the kitchen. “I didn’t mean for you to have to clean up on your own. I intended to help.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said as I chopped up carrots at the counter. “I didn’t mind one bit. I’m just grateful you’re spending time with Hank again.” I took a breath. “I never intended to get between you two.”
“I know. That’s not who you are.” He gestured toward the stove. “Can I help?”
I started to tell him no, but I wanted to ask him a few things. Maybe I could work it into a conversation. “You can get out a cookie sheet and cover it with foil.”
“I think I can handle that,” he said as he opened the cabinet over the oven. “Hank said you were at Marco’s.”
Crap. “Yeah.”
“Does he make you happy?” he asked quietly.
I looked up at him. “Yeah, Wyatt. He does, but more importantly, he’s honest. We have no secrets.”
He glanced down, then darted his gaze back up to meet my eyes, still holding the box of aluminum foil. “Marco’s a good man, and you deserve to be happy.”
His response caught me by surprise. “Thank you.”
He nodded, but then he said, “But Marco’s never going to leave Drum.”
I stopped chopping. “What does that mean?”
“We both know you’re not goin’ to stay here forever, and if Marco’s promised to leave with you, you can’t count on that.”
“Why not?” I asked before I could stop myself.
He set the box on the table next to the cookie sheet. “Because he and Max are tied at the hip. Hell, he went to college in Knoxville because Max went there, and before our mother fetched Max to run the tavern, the two of them were planning to open a bar in Nashville together. Sure enough, Marco came runnin’ back to Drum to be close to Max, goin’ so far as to get a job with the sheriff’s department to help protect him.” He gave me a sad look. “He’s never gonna leave Max, Carly, so don’t delude yourself into thinking otherwise.”
I stared at him in shock. “You think I don’t know about his friendship with Max? The good and the bad? I suspect I know a whole hell of a lot more than you, because he tells me things, Wyatt.” I left off the unlike you.
He grimaced. “Look, I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
Bullshit. He was hoping to drive a wedge between Marco and me while trying to paint himself as the good guy.
“God, you just don’t learn, do you?” I asked, shaking my head. “Why are you really here right now? I thought you had to be at the garage.”
“Junior’s coverin’, and I’m here because you asked me to come.”
“Great way to twist things around,” I said. “This was your condition for helping Hank with his car. I had to spend an hour with you.” I waved my knife toward him. “I guess you’re in here collecting your full hour, huh?”
“I came in here to help you with the dishes,” he said.
“But for all Hank knows, we’re in here having a nice chat, so I think we’ve both fulfilled our ends of the bargain, which means you’re free to go.”
He pushed out a heavy sigh and pulled off a sheet of foil. “Carly, this wasn’t how things were supposed to go.”
“No,” I said, my voice cold. “I’m sure you had delusions about sweeping me off my feet and us getting back together, but that’s never going to happen.”
“Carly—”
This conversation was shot to hell, so I figured I might as well go for broke. “What were you doing at the tavern the other night?”
He froze. “What?”
“Two nights ago. You came in, you and Max went into the back for about ten minutes, and then you left. What was that about?”
“Carly.”
“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” I said in disgust. “You’re so full of secrets you’re buried in them.”
“I was there to shoot the shit with my brother,” he nearly shouted. “Do I need a reason to talk to my own brother?”
“You were talking to him, but it wasn’t to shoot the shit.”
His nostrils flared. “Then what was I doin’ there?”
I nearly told him what I suspected, but I needed to keep my investigation under wraps for as long as I could, which meant I couldn’t clue him in. I shouldn’t have said anything at all.
“It’s time for you to go, Wyatt,” Hank said from the kitchen doorway.
Wyatt’s face paled. “Hank, I realize we—”
“No,” Hank said in a cold tone. “I told you to leave this girl alone unless you were ready to come clean, and here you are, pesterin’ the shit out of her. You just can’t stop beatin’ a dead horse, can ya?” he sneered. “Just like the rest of you Drummonds. Now go.”
“Do you still want me to work on your car and your roof?” Wyatt asked defensively.
“Yeah, but since you can’t find the self-control to leave Carly alone, only when she’s not here.”
Wyatt gave me a pleading look, but I returned to chopping my carrots. The whack of the knife striking the board filled the room as I put a little more effort into it than necessary.
I heard rather than saw Wyatt walk away. Hank followed him out the front door, and the truck engine started then faded.
I was spreading the carrots on the cookie sheet Wyatt had covered with foil when Hank returned.
“I knew he’d pull some kind of bullshit,” Hank said in disgust. “You should have stayed at Marco’s.”
“I promised, although I’m not sure I fully lived up to my end of the bargain.”
“Then I’ll pay him money, because you don’t owe that man a damn thing.” He heaved himself onto a chair and rested his crutch against the table. “I heard what he said about Marco.” He waited until he had my attention. “While there
’s some truth to what he said about his friendship with Max, he’s changed, Carly.”
I gave him a reassuring smile. “I know he has, in more ways than one. I trust him, Hank. With my life and my heart.” I released a small laugh. “I told him I love him.”
Hank grinned from ear to ear. “About damn time.”
I laughed again. “Yeah, he thought you’d have that reaction.”
“Don’t you let Wyatt give you doubts or make you feel guilty. I love that boy like a son, and I confess, at one time, I thought you’d be good for him, but I came to realize he wouldn’t be good for you. He’s got too much Drummond in him.”
“What’s that mean?”
“The Drummonds are born and bred to keep secrets. He can’t help hidin’ things, even things that don’t need to be hidden. And while I believe he broke ties with his daddy, seems to me he’s still up to something.”
That didn’t surprise me, but was it something that complemented my intentions or went against them? I had plenty of questions about Wyatt that he never seemed interested in answering. For all his pretty talk about the two of us, he’d never opened up to me.
“How do you feel about him workin’ on the roof?” he asked.
I gave him a reassuring smile. “If he can do a better job, then I’m all for it.”
“You don’t have to pay to fix my house, girlie.”
“I live here too, so it’s only right.”
“Did you make any progress on connectin’ Bart to the murder?”
“Maybe?” I drizzled the carrots with olive oil, then sprinkled them with salt and pepper and put the tray in the oven. Hank might currently be cut off from the world, but he knew about Drum and the people in it. His opinion could prove invaluable.
I sat down at the end of the table. “So far, Selena Martin has been my best source.”
Hank’s face paled. “The high school math teacher?”
“Yeah. She said she had Seth for two classes.”
He nodded. “The boy liked her.”
“She liked him too.” I hesitated, then said, “Pam Crimshaw’s son Ricky was supposedly Seth’s best friend.”
He rubbed his chin. “Yeah, I suppose he was.”
“But you didn’t mention it when I was talking about the Crimshaws yesterday.”