Buried in Secrets

by Denise Grover Swank

  My face flushed. That hadn’t been my intention, but there was no denying I’d appreciated the view. “I was looking at your uniform. Do you think it’s a good idea for you to come to the door?”

  “In this case, yes. I’ll make sure they know I’m there on unofficial business. You can just tell them we had lunch together and you decided to drop by to check on Ashlynn.”

  “Okay,” I said, not totally convinced by his rationale. It didn’t seem like a good idea for him to involve himself so openly, whether off the clock or not. For one thing, I doubted Jonathon and Ashlynn, if she was there, would talk to a uniformed officer, and for another, I didn’t want him to risk his job, his life. But I wasn’t about to tell him I didn’t want him there. “That means I take the lead.”

  I drove into the mostly dirt driveway and parked behind the small rusted red pickup truck. Marco pulled a notebook out of his pocket and jotted down the license plate number from the truck. “Just in case,” he said as he put it back in his pocket.

  We got out of the car and headed toward the dilapidated porch. Marco wrapped an arm around my back, catching me off guard, and when I glanced up at him with a questioning look, he leaned down and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. “Like I said, I’m not here on official business. You’re checking up on a friend, and I’m just with you because I’m on my lunch hour.” He flashed a tight grin. “I say we sell the this isn’t official angle hard.”

  “While also letting them know you’re a deputy.”

  He tilted his head and grinned. “I knew you were smart.”

  We carefully made our way across the porch to the door, and I knocked. The door had so much wood rot I was worried it would fall apart from the jarring.

  A few seconds later, a skinny guy who looked like he wasn’t a day over twenty opened the door.

  “Jonathon Whitmore?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” He had a panicked look when he saw Marco. “I wasn’t no part of that mess, and you can’t pin it on me.”

  Marco lifted his hands up. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, and I don’t wanna know.” He tilted his head toward me. “I’m just here with Carly.”

  The kid shifted his attention to me, his gaze dipping down to take in my dress before lifting back up to my face.

  Marco took a step toward me to let the guy know we were together.

  “Hi,” I said in my sweetest voice. “I’m Carly Moore, and I know Ashlynn. I drove her into Ewing yesterday, and I know she didn’t show up to work. I heard you might know where she is. I’m worried about her. With her momma in jail and her being pregnant…” I let my voice trail off and smiled.

  The guy flashed a glance at Marco.

  “I’m only here because we were eating lunch together, and she asked me to come with her. You know how dicey it can get for a woman alone in these parts.”

  That surprised me, but I filed it in my questions to ask later pile.

  The guy nodded, seeming to find Marco’s suggestion acceptable, then turned back to me. “You’re the one who took her to the jail.”

  “Yes!” I said, getting excited. “That means you’ve talked to her.”

  He glanced over her shoulder into the house, and a few seconds later, Ashlynn appeared behind him.

  I let out a genuine sigh of relief. “Thank goodness you’re okay. I was so worried.”

  She scowled, but it looked forced. “I don’t know why. I can take care of myself.”

  “I know, but I felt responsible. What happened? I went to pick you up, and you weren’t there.”

  She shrugged. “Yeah, well, I changed my mind.”

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I went by the pharmacy to see if you’d shown up, but Mr. Jones said you were a no-show.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t tell you where I worked.”

  “I know, but I figured you didn’t work at Walgreens, so I tried Jones.”

  Ashlynn didn’t look impressed with my sleuthing skills.

  “Are you okay?” I asked. “Do you need a ride home? Or maybe to Selena’s place?”

  “I’m fine,” she said in a huff.

  “Could we talk to you outside for a moment?” Marco said.

  “Why?” she asked suspiciously.

  “We want to ask you a question about your baby,” I said.

  No sooner had the question come out than I wanted to stuff it back in. Wow. I was handling this badly.

  She eyed Marco, then asked me, “Did Chuck send you?”

  “No,” I said. “But I spoke to him.”

  Propping her hand on her hip, she shot me a glare. “And he told you that cockamamie nonsense that he’s not the daddy?”

  “Do you want to have this conversation here?” I asked. “Or would you rather come outside?”

  “We don’t have any secrets,” Jonathon said, clamping a hand on her shoulder. “We’re best friends. What are you talkin’ about? Of course Chuck’s her baby’s daddy.”

  From the look on Ashlynn’s face, she didn’t want to have this discussion in front of him, but she also didn’t want to tell him to go away.

  “Ashlynn…?” I asked.

  “Chuck’s full of crap,” she said.

  “Why would he say he’s not the dad?” Jonathon asked.

  I really didn’t want to bring this up in front of him, but Ashlynn wouldn’t come outside, and she wasn’t telling me to shut up.

  “He says he found out you’re a month further along than he thought.” I hated myself as the words crossed my lips. “That he was in jail when you would have gotten pregnant.”

  Jonathon’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

  “It ain’t yours,” Ashlynn shot over her shoulder.

  “But we screwed that one time while he was in jail!” he protested, his eyes wide. “When we got shit-faced on Fireball.”

  “It ain’t yours!”

  “Ashlynn,” I said, figuring I might as well go for broke since I’d already blown it this much. “Did you know Jim Palmer?”

  She stared at me for a moment, then said defensively, “Well, yeah. I knew him from church.”

  “He was your youth group leader, right?”

  She rolled her eyes. “He wasn’t the only one, and he was only part-time at that. There were two other couples who ran it.”

  “But his wife never helped much,” Jonathon said. “The last year or two it was just him.”

  “What kinds of activities did you do?” I asked. “I saw Ricky pulling weeds. Did they have you do other kinds of work around the church?”

  “Hell, yeah,” Jonathan said. “We were like free labor. They called them service projects.”

  “Like what?” I pressed.

  “Usually stuff outside.”

  “Like landscaping?” Marco asked.

  “Yeah,” Jonathon said. “And fixing up the playground.”

  “Did you do any other service projects?” Marco asked.

  “Sometimes,” Jonathon said. “We helped at the food bank. We also worked on older people’s yards.”

  “Like mowing and weeding?” Marco asked.

  “And raking leaves.”

  “Did you do anything fun?” I asked. I’d never spent any time in church so I wasn’t sure what youth groups usually did.

  “We went to Dollywood every year,” he said. “That was fun. And we took a yearly trip to see the Grand Ole Opry Christmas display. We’d stay at the hotel and take gondola rides and stuff.”

  “Did Jim’s wife go?” I asked.

  Ashlynn shifted her weight and crossed her arms, looking uncomfortable, but Jonathon was oblivious. “No. He said she had to stay home with their kids, but the Johnsons have kids too, and both of them always went.”

  Sounded like a great opportunity for a man to get a young girl alone and take advantage of her. Especially if his wife wasn’t around.

  “Ashlynn, did your mom know Jim Palmer before she killed him?”

  She’d denied it before, and she had no reason to tell me
any different now. She had no reason to tell me anything. Her lower lip jutting out, she said, “They never had anything to do with each other. My mama ran the nursery and if she talked to a youth leader, it was either Fred Johnson or his wife Patricia. Like I said, Jim wasn’t there all the time.”

  “Did you like Jim?” I asked.

  “He was okay,” Jonathon said. “But the Johnsons were funner.”

  “What about you, Ashlynn?” I asked.

  Her gaze darted away. “He was all right.”

  Then, because we’d gotten this far, I decided to go for broke. “Did he ever do anything…inappropriate?”

  Her eyes widened with a panicked look. “Why do you keep askin’ all these questions? None of this is any of your business!”

  Then she slammed the door in our faces.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Well, that went well,” I said sarcastically after we got into the car.

  “Actually, it went better than I expected,” he said.

  I backed the car out of the driveway, desperate to get as far away from this mess as possible.

  “Carly when you’re investigatin’ a case, you have to ask uncomfortable questions. Sometimes makin’ them uncomfortable is the best way to get an answer.”

  “Sure, that works if you’re a sheriff deputy, but I’m a nosy waitress. We might have just alerted Bart that we’re looking into this.”

  Even if it was starting to look like he might not have played a part in Jim’s death. Because he would know why we were looking into it…and I didn’t need him knowing I was taking an interest in his favors.

  “I doubt he’ll find out from Ashlynn. She’d rather keep this whole mess quiet.”

  I backed out onto the road, then headed down the mountain. “I thought you were going to stay out of it,” I said in a snippy tone.

  “I was, but I figured it was more of a conversation than an interrogation, so I might as well participate.”

  I shot him a look of challenge.

  “Okay, so maybe it wasn’t totally conversational, but it was close.”

  “Marco.”

  “I’m fine. It’ll be fine.”

  I reached over and snagged his hand. “Please don’t get yourself into trouble over me.”

  “Carly, I was in trouble the minute I saw you searchin’ Lula’s cabin last December.”

  He’d liked me for that long? But he was trying to distract me, and I couldn’t let him do it. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  “I know,” he said softly, squeezing my hand. “It’ll be fine. I promise.”

  I shook my head. “You can’t promise any such thing.”

  “Okay,” he said. “You’re right. But I truly think it will be all right. Trust me.”

  I pushed out a breath, my heart racing. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to Marco because of me, and not just because of the guilt. I wanted him in my life. Always.

  “What’s goin’ through that beautiful head of yours?” he asked, sounding worried.

  I almost told him nothing, then reminded myself I was going to be honest about my feelings. “I’m scared for you.”

  “Carly. I’ll be fine.”

  Tears filled my eyes, making my vision blurry. “We don’t know that. Now that we’re together, I wouldn’t put it past Bart to kill you just to spite me.”

  “Pull over.”

  “What?”

  “Just pull over.” He pointed through the windshield. “There’s a turnoff up ahead.”

  “You’re gonna be late getting back to the station.”

  “I don’t care. Pull over.”

  I nearly told him no, but the tears weren’t going away, and I was smart enough to know that driving on this road was dangerous with obscured vision. I turned onto the small dirt road and put the car in park.

  He leaned over the console and cupped my face, turning my head gently until I was looking at him.

  “I’m scared for you, Marco. I never should have dragged you into my mess. I never should have let myself do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Love you.”

  A soft smile spread across his face. “Sweetheart, you’ve loved me for months. I don’t think you could have stopped even if you’d wanted to.”

  I released a short laugh even as tears streamed down my cheeks. “Arrogant much?”

  He grinned, his eyes lighting up. “Loving me and being with me are two different things. And we both know that Bart already knows we matter to each other. Whether we’re together or not.”

  He was right. I knew it yet I was terrified for him.

  “Carly.” He said my name so tenderly, fresh tears stung my eyes. “We’re gonna get through this, okay?”

  I nodded, because what else could I do?

  He wiped my tears with his thumb. “Do you want me to drive?”

  “No. I think I’ve gotten ahold of myself.”

  “Let’s take a couple of days off from the investigation. Let things settle down some.” He gave me a soft smile. “You need rest.”

  “Yeah. Okay.”

  He leaned over and kissed me, his lips tender, and I lifted my hand to the back of his neck and sank my fingers through his hair.

  Pulling back slightly, I said, “I love you, Marco. If anything happens to you because of—”

  His lips cut off my words, as they became more insistent.

  My whole body flushed. I wanted him naked, but we were on the side of the road, and he was going to be late for work.

  He was the one to pull back, but the hunger in his eyes said it wasn’t by choice. “Let’s head back into town.”

  “Okay.” But I didn’t let go of his hair.

  He grinned. “You’re gonna make this hard on me, aren’t you?”

  I lifted a brow. “You want me to make it easy?”

  “No,” he said, giving me another kiss as he gently pulled my hand from his head. “I can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but good things come to those who wait. Tonight. After you get off work. I hope you’re not too tired, because I have plans for you.”

  I sucked in a breath at the thought.

  “So let me get back to the station so I can finish my paperwork.”

  “Okay, but maybe we can get a few days off soon and go away.”

  “I really like that idea. We both know Max will give you time off if he knows we’re going away for a romantic getaway.”

  I laughed, because it was true. “Okay.” Happiness washed through me, but it scared me. I kept wondering when it would be snatched away.

  I pulled back onto the road and continued on toward town while we discussed where we could go. Marco said he had someplace in mind in North Carolina that was secluded and cozy.

  We were almost into town when I finally brought up Ashlynn again. “She acted pretty weird when Jonathon told us Jim’s wife didn’t go to the meetings.”

  “She acted weird about him in general,” Marco said. “And she definitely didn’t want Jonathon to think he was the baby’s father.”

  “Do you think Jim Palmer’s the father?” I asked.

  Because we both knew what it meant, or what it probably meant, if he was.

  “I don’t know. We need more information.” He gave me a pointed look. “But I meant what I said. Let’s give it a rest for a few days, then maybe we can talk to some of the kids in the youth group. Or maybe you can talk to her brother again.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But not today and not tomorrow.”

  It felt like we were wasting time, but he was right. We’d been stirring hornet’s nests, and we needed to let things settle for a day or two.

  I turned into the sheriff department’s lot and pulled up to the curb.

  “I’ll see you after I get off work,” Marco said. “And try to talk Max into letting you go early.”

  “I don’t think you’ll have to do much convincing. He’s all for us being together.”

  “Good.” He gave me a kis
s, then reached for the door handle. “Be safe, okay?”

  “Of course.”

  It was him I was worried about.

  I decided to skip seeing Miss Thelma and headed to the grocery store to get the hamburgers, buns, and potatoes. While I was shopping, Max called and asked me to get hot dogs and buns along with lettuce, tomatoes, onions, multiple bottles of ketchup, and at least three hundred paper plates.

  “Are you feeding an army?” I asked with a laugh.

  “Close enough. Can you also stop by the Dollar General and get some outdoor Christmas lights? White? And get back as soon as you can.”

  “Sure…” What in the world was he up to? I was about to ask, but he hung up before I could.

  I had to go to both grocery stores in town to get all the food, then to Dollar General and the thrift store to find white outdoor Christmas lights. It was nearly four by the time I got back to Drum, and I was surprised to see the side street leading to the back parking lot blocked off with cones. I parked on the street in front of the tavern and walked around back to see if I could get help with the groceries. Max had moved his pickup truck down the street, and Ruth and Tiny’s cars were down there too. The road was blocked off about thirty feet from the corner—between the vacant lot behind the tavern and the abandoned dry cleaner across from it—and a couple of wooden picnic tables were sitting on the side of the road, with another in the middle of the parking lot.

  Max, Tiny, Ruth’s boyfriend Franklin (whom everyone else called Tater), and a few of Franklin’s friends were in the parking lot, pounding tall wooden posts into the strip of grass at the back edge.

  “What’s goin’ on here?” I asked lightheartedly as I squinted up at Franklin, who stood on a ladder held by two of his friends, hammering in what had to be a twelve-foot post.

  “Max got a wild hair up his ass.”

  “He decided to make a really tall clothesline?” I asked, shooting Max a grin.

  “Aren’t you the funny one?” Max said sarcastically, but his eyes were dancing. “And you were the inspiration for this, so you’re welcome.”

  I shook my head in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  “You waltzed in this morning wearing that pretty sundress, lookin’ like you were headed to a picnic or a summer festival, so I decided to take an unfortunate situation and turn it into an advantage. We’re having a summer block party. I’ve got a few bands comin’ and everything.”