Buried in Secrets

by Denise Grover Swank

  He finished filling the cup, then handed me the water, which I tucked under my arm, and the beer. “Well, look who just showed up.”

  I turned around and caught a glimpse. “Bingham?”

  “Him and Lula. It looks like they left the baby at home. Greta and her new boyfriend are with them.” He gestured to a table in the farthest corner of the set-up, in the dark area on the street.

  Bingham and Lula were sitting at one of the church-borrowed tables with plates of food, eating. Lula and Greta seemed deep in conversation while Bingham’s gaze was slowly sweeping the area.

  “Bingham hasn’t been around all that much,” Max said quietly.

  Now that Max mentioned it, he hadn’t. I shrugged. “I think marrying Lula and having a baby changed him.”

  “Maybe so,” Max said, but he didn’t sound convinced.

  I turned around to find Marco. He’d chosen a church table on the street too, although it was in the opposite corner from Bingham. Selena was sitting with him. As I approached, I could hear them discussing Marco’s glory days in high school.

  “Hello, Miss Selena,” I said as I set down the beers and the water. “I’m so happy you came.”

  “Me too,” she said. “Tonight is perfect.”

  I knew what she meant. The temperature was in the seventies, and the sun had set, so the light was a soft glow from the twinkling lights and tiki torches flickering along the edge of the street. It felt magical, especially when I sat next to Marco and he pressed his leg against mine.

  “I saw the Crimshaws were here,” I said as Marco handed me a hamburger that he’d doctored up.

  “I was surprised to see Rob here,” Selena said. “But he left when he saw the Genslers.”

  My mouth dropped open. Thad had been with the Gensler boy on the night of the accident. “They’re here?”

  She gestured across the parking lot. “The couple with the little girl. Spencer’s over there with Thad.”

  I glanced around and saw a middle-aged couple sitting at a table with a girl who looked about ten. I continued scanning the lot and saw Thad hanging out with two boys his age.

  “They still let their son spend time with him?” I asked in surprise.

  “They’re not friends like they used to be,” she said, “but they do see each other. It’s hard to prevent it in a school with so few students.”

  I resisted the urge to glance back at the couple. “Does their daughter go to school in Drum?”

  “Yes, she’s in the fourth grade.”

  I put my hamburger down on Marco’s plate. “I’ll be right back.”

  Marco snagged my hand and looked up into my eyes. “I thought we were going to just enjoy the evening.” I knew he wanted to say more, but Selena was watching.

  I leaned over and kissed him. “I only want to make sure they know about Tutoring Club.”

  He searched my eyes, and I found it disconcerting that I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Did he really not want me to take advantage of this situation? I’d been looking for a natural “in” with them, and it had been handed to me on an engraved silver platter.

  Neither of us said anything for a solid two seconds, then he gave me a soft smile and nodded toward them. “Go give them the Tutoring Club pitch.”

  “Thank you,” I mouthed and gave him a quick kiss.

  Grabbing the bottle of water, I took a sip as I walked over to them, checking the crowd for other families with school-aged children who didn’t attend the club. I stopped to talk to another family with two younger children, one of whom looked like he was in first or second grade, figuring it would look better if I was making rounds.

  “Hi,” I said as I took a seat opposite the family. I introduced myself and took a few minutes to tell them how Tutoring Club worked and assure them it was free. After I answered all of their questions, I made my way to the Genslers’ table, my stomach in knots. I really didn’t want to screw this up.

  “Hi,” I said, smiling brightly. “I’m Carly Moore, and I’m a waitress here at Max’s.”

  Mr. Gensler extended his hand. “I’m Donnie, and this is my wife, Kay.”

  I shook hands with both of them. “And who is this?” I asked, gesturing to their daughter.

  “Scarlett, say hello to Miss Carly,” Kay said.

  She gave me a shy smile. “Hi.”

  “This is so nice,” Kay said, her gaze scanning the party. “I hope Max does this again.”

  “We’ve had a great turnout,” I said. I wasn’t sure how much money he’d made, but he’d definitely earned some loyalty. “I suspect he will.” I glanced over at their daughter. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I’m making sure families are aware that we have a tutoring program here twice a week from three-thirty to five. We call it Tutoring Club, and we try to make it fun with games and rewards. I don’t know if Scarlett or any other children you might have need help, but I just wanted to let you know there’s an available resource.”

  Donnie frowned. “How much do you charge?”

  “Oh,” I said, “I’m sorry. I should have mentioned that part first. It’s totally free.”

  “Why would you offer free tutoring?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Max loves Drum and feels compelled to give back to the community,” I said. “Take tonight, for example; and Tutoring Club is a way for us to support Drum’s most important resource—our children.”

  The couple exchanged a glance. “Do you tutor high schoolers?” Kay asked as she turned back to me. “Our son Spencer is in summer school, repeating English and social studies so he can start his freshman year in August.”

  An idea popped into my head. I felt guilty for even considering it, but I figured it would be a win for everyone. “I usually work with elementary and middle-school students, but I’d be happy to meet with him and see if I can help.”

  “What experience do you have?” Donnie asked.

  “I worked at a tutoring center in Atlanta before I moved to Drum last year. I confess, most of the kids in my group are significantly younger, but I’m willing to meet with your son one on one.” I smiled. “The last thing he needs is to be coming in with the younger kids. I’m sure a tutoring session will be hard enough for him to accept.”

  “I don’t know,” his father said, his gaze sweeping over me. “Somehow I think he’ll be okay with it.”

  I resisted the urge to cringe. I didn’t want to encourage a fourteen-year-old boy to have a crush on me, but I could also put a stop to it fairly quickly. “I have time tomorrow if Spencer does.”

  “He doesn’t have summer school tomorrow. Will late morning work?” Kay asked.

  “Sure,” I said. “I’m not sure if the electricity will be back on by then, but we can meet outside at one of the tables.”

  Kay made a face. “I was hoping you could come to our house. I realize that’s an imposition, so we’d be happy to pay you twenty dollars an hour.”

  “Now, Kay, wait a cotton-pickin’ minute,” Donnie protested.

  “He’s failin’ summer school, Donnie,” she said, seething. “Neither one of us can help him. If she can…”

  He pressed his lips together.

  “If you don’t mind me asking,” I said, “when did Spencer start falling behind? I’ll see how he’s doing where he’s at, but it might help to know how far back this goes.”

  They exchanged another look, then Kay said, “Spencer was in an accident a little over a year ago. He missed a month of school.” She hesitated, her mouth twisting as though she struggled with how much to confess.

  “He was arrested,” Scarlett said knowingly. “He didn’t go to jail or anything, but he was in bad trouble.”

  “Scarlett!” Kay hissed, giving her a feather-light smack.

  The new band began playing an uptempo country song.

  “It’s okay,” I said with a smile. “I really don’t care about the reason. It’s just helpful to know for context.”

  “I truly hope you can help him,” Kay said wi
th tears in her eyes.

  “I’ll do my best,” I said truthfully. “And if I don’t think I can, I’ll be sure to let you know so we can hopefully find someone who can.”

  She reached across the table and clasped my hand. “Thank you. You’re an answer to my prayers.”

  My guilt resurfaced. While I did intend to help him, I’d made the offer with ulterior motives. I glanced back at Marco’s table, surprised to see he was approaching us. A quiet anger simmered in my chest. Didn’t he trust me to handle this?

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Marco said as he reached the table, “but the band’s playing our song.” He held out his hand to me with an apologetic look.

  “Of course,” Kay said, grabbing her purse and pulling out a receipt.

  “Marco,” I said trying to swallow my anger in front of the Genslers. “This is Donnie and Kay Gensler and their daughter, Scarlett.”

  Marco tipped his head to them. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Let me just jot down our address.” Kay scribbled her address down, then pushed the receipt to me. “Will eleven o’clock work?”

  “That works perfectly for me.” I took the paper and tucked it into my pocket.

  “Thank you. You’re a godsend.”

  “I say that every day,” Marco said, tugging me out of my seat and away from the couple, toward the dance area.

  “What on earth was that about?” I asked, speaking as low as I could and still be heard above the band, barely restraining my anger. “You know this was a golden opportunity!”

  “Carly—” Wrapping an arm around my back, he turned me to face him as we reached the edge of the dancing crowd. “—I know, but—”

  “If you’re going to be a controlling—”

  He leaned down and kissed me. When he lifted his head, worry filled his eyes. “Carly,” he said, starting again now that he had my attention. “Bart Drummond is here, and he’s watching your every move.”

  My mouth fell open, and I realized I could practically feel his gaze burning a hole on my back. I turned my head to the side and caught a glimpse of him with his wife, Emily. They were waiting in Max’s drink line, and both of them had their attention on us.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  We began to move to the country song about a man and his truck and something about a cow. Despite my worries, I laughed. “This is our song?”

  He laughed too. “You know I’m pretty fond of the Explorer.”

  I lifted my brow. “And the cow?” My eyes narrowed. “That better not be me.”

  “Never.” He released my back and grabbed my hand, spinning me out and then reeling me in, catching me with my back to his chest. He placed a kiss at the base of my neck, and a shiver ran down my spine.

  “If Bart hangs around much longer, I say we leave,” he whispered in my ear.

  “And if he leaves?” I asked breathlessly, torn between wanting to take Marco home and wanting to stay and enjoy a rare night of frivolity.

  He wrapped an arm around my stomach and turned me around to face him. “I’m dying to get you home, but I also know that nights like this are rare. You deserve to have fun, Carly, to forget about everything for at least a few moments, and I’m determined to make sure you can.”

  “I love you,” I said, losing myself in his blue-green eyes.

  He smiled. “I love you too.”

  “Get a room,” teased an older man I recognized as a customer as he danced near us with his wife.

  “I would, Barry,” Marco said. “But I heard you rented the last one at the Alpine Inn.”

  Barry and his wife laughed, and we laughed with them, and I let myself forget that Bart was watching me. He knew I was with Marco, so there was nothing I could do about that, but I could at least deny him the satisfaction of knowing his presence was bothering me. So I laughed and danced and occasionally caught a glimpse of him while Marco spun me around the lot. I wanted Bart to see my happiness, but I couldn’t help feeling like I was poking more hornets’ nests.

  The song we were dancing to stopped and Jerry tapped Marco’s shoulder. “Excuse me, but can I cut in?” He was wearing a clean pair of jeans and a button-down shirt that looked brand new. His hair was neatly combed, and he looked happier than I’d ever seen him.

  “Just don’t steal my girl,” Marco teased.

  “I know she’s yours,” he joked. A slow song came on, and Jerry held out his arms.

  I put my hands on Jerry’s thin shoulders, pleased that he smelled like aftershave and not the cheap soap Max stocked in the bathrooms at the Alpine Inn. Despite my worry, I was happy to see him doing so well.

  His hands rested on my waist and we stood about a foot apart as we swayed to the music.

  “I’m so glad you came,” I said, my voice breaking. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I didn’t move away,” he said with a smile. “Just moved on to bigger and better things. I’ve got my own cabin on the Drummond property. With curtains and everything. The Drummond housekeeper even said she’d change my linens and towels.”

  “That all sounds wonderful, Jerry. I’m very happy for you.”

  “I know you think I’m foolish,” he said, glancing down. “But it all seems on the up and up.”

  “Jerry.” His gaze lifted to mine. “You are an amazing man, and Bart Drummond is damn lucky to have you. But if at any time you feel that’s changed, you tell me, okay? Don’t worry about where you’ll stay or anything. You can always stay with us. Just tell me, and we’ll sort it out. Together.”

  He made a wry face. “You think Hank Chalmers would let me stay with him?” He released a sharp laugh, then shrugged. “Maybe he’s changed.”

  I stared at him in surprise. “You and Hank have bad blood, Jerry?”

  “It was a misunderstanding,” Jerry said, then waved his hand. “I’m sure he’s plumb forgotten.”

  Did it have anything to do with Hank’s daughter? It had only recently come to light that Jerry had witnessed a sheriff’s deputy murder Barb’s boyfriend. But Jerry, terrified for his life, had kept it to himself.

  “I’m glad you’re with Marco and not the other Drummond boy,” Jerry said.

  “Wyatt?”

  He nodded. “He’s up to something no good. I can feel it.”

  I frowned. “Like what?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. Got no proof. Just a feelin’. He’s not gonna like it that you’re with Marco, so you both better watch your backs.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. “You think he’d hurt one of us?”

  “Nah,” he said with a grimace. “But the Drummonds have plenty of other ways.”

  “If you don’t trust the Drummonds, then why are you workin’ for them?” I asked.

  He grinned, but it seemed forced. “Now who said I don’t trust all of ’em?”

  Then the song changed, and he whirled me around with more energy than I would have expected. We laughed and danced, and when the song ended, he kissed me on the cheek. “Your man’s waitin’ for you. Thank you for sparin’ a couple of dances for me.”

  “There’s always room on my dance card for you, Jerry.”

  Marco swooped in as Jerry headed over to join a group of men. “Let’s get a drink.”

  “Sounds good.” I’d never drunk my beer, and I’d left my water at the Genslers’ table.

  Max was still working at the bar even though he didn’t have any customers at the moment.

  “I thought you were going to leave this to the honor system,” I told him when we reached the table.

  “Those boys are still circling like sharks and I don’t want to lose my liquor license.” He nodded his head toward Ricky’s group of teens and then shot a wink at Marco.

  “Where’s Wyatt?” I asked.

  “He’s runnin’ an errand. In fact, I’m surprised he’s not back yet.”

  “You need a break,” I said. “Let me take over so you can circulate and maybe even dance with a pretty girl.” I waggled my eyebrows. “I’ve notic
ed a few eyeing you.”

  He hesitated instead of outright telling me no, so I gave Marco an apologetic smile, then walked around the table and gave Max a tiny shove. “Go. Have some fun. Reap the fruit of your labors.”

  “Fruit of your labors?” Max asked with a chuckle.

  I rolled my eyes. “Just go with it.”

  “She’s right,” Marco said, walking around the other side. “Go have some fun. We’ll run the table until Wyatt shows up.”

  Max looked uncertain, then he stood up straighter. “Okay. I think I will.” And he poured himself a beer and headed out into the crowd.

  “I hope this was okay,” I said, “but Max deserves to have some fun too.”

  “It was a good call,” he said. “I should have thought of it, but all I could think about was you.”

  I stretched up and gave him a kiss, then turned around to check out the cooler situation. “Let’s organize the drinks while we’re waiting for our next customer. I bet we can get rid of some of these.”

  “Good idea.”

  Five of them were nearly empty, so we moved the cans and bottles to the fuller containers, then Marco dragged the empty coolers to the back door to dump out in the kitchen sink.

  He’d just gone inside when a man with a limp approached the table. He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans. His brown hair was short, and he had a trimmed beard. I would have guessed him to be in his thirties, but something in his eyes made him look older.

  “What can I get you?” I asked cheerfully. I had to hand it to Max. Quite a few of the people who’d come to the event had never been to the tavern before, this man included. “We have draft beer, bottled water, and some soft drinks.”

  “Uh…a beer sounds good,” he said, looking around like he was checking the place out.

  “Did you just get here?” I asked as I grabbed a cup.

  “About a half hour ago.” He turned back to me. “I hear you’re Carly.”

  The fact that he knew me made me a little nervous, but it wasn’t all that uncommon since I’d started tutoring, not to mention I had some notoriety after Seth’s murder. I held the cup under the tap and started filling it. “That’s me.”