Buried in Secrets

by Denise Grover Swank

  “If you’re implying that I was spying, you couldn’t be more wrong. I thought Max had brought a date upstairs. I had no idea it was you.”

  “Well then, lucky me.” She gestured to the chair next to the sofa. “Come have a seat. I’m straining my neck to look up at you.”

  I moved over to the chair and sat down. “Why did you call me Caroline?”

  She laughed. “Please. Don’t insult my intelligence. Bart’s known your secret practically since you came to town. Of course I know it too. And I’m certain Wyatt does as well. Whenever I bring up questions about your past, he gets cagey and changes the topic. But Max…” She released a sigh. “He has a tendency to be short-sighted. I get the impression he knows you’re not who you say you are, but he doesn’t seem to care about the truth.” She tilted her head as she studied me. “You should go back to being a blonde. It suits you better.”

  “Beauty tips aside, does any of this have a point?”

  “I think perhaps we have a common quest, and it might be to our advantage to pool our resources.”

  My heart began to race. “I’m listening.”

  A slow smile lifted her lips, and the triumphant look in her eyes suggested she thought she’d already swayed me. “You’ve been asking questions about poor Pam Crimshaw, but perhaps you’re looking in the wrong direction?” She lifted her voice at the end.

  Did she know I was looking for information to tie Pam’s case to one of Bart’s favors? Was she looking to bring him down?

  I hesitated. “I take it you have a suggestion?”

  “Perhaps…”

  “You’re insinuating that you know what I’m up to,” I said. “What is your interest in this?”

  She laughed. “Carly, the last time we met, I told you I’d been looking for an exit strategy. Perhaps you and I can work together.”

  I considered her suggestion. Did she really want to put her husband away? Or was she using me to feed information back to her husband? “That would mean I’d have to trust you,” I said.

  She tilted her head. “Yes, but I would have to trust you as well.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “What I’m about to tell you…only two people know. If Bart finds out that you know…let’s just say it would be to my detriment.”

  “He wouldn’t presume the other person had told me?”

  “The other person doesn’t like to discuss…business.”

  Who would she be talking about?

  “Why would you trust me?” I countered.

  She laughed. “Your true colors show through, my girl, which isn’t necessarily to your advantage. But it is to mine.” Pausing, she shifted her weight on the sofa. “I know my husband has threatened you to keep you in line. I also know you’re not the kind of woman to take that lying down.”

  She watched me, waiting for a response, and when I didn’t answer, she said, “Exposing my husband would benefit us both. Bart would no longer have control over you, but he would also no longer have control over me. It’s a win for both of us.”

  “Obviously you want me to do the dirty work,” I said.

  “Let’s just say the other party doesn’t care for me much, but I understand you’ve garnered favor with him. Perhaps he’ll be more willing to accommodate you.” Her lips lifted into a tight smile. “Taking care of Bart will benefit him as well.”

  “So why hasn’t he done it himself already?”

  “It can’t come directly from him either, but I suspect he’d trust you to handle it.”

  Was she talking about Bingham? He would benefit from Bart’s downfall and likely revel in it, but I couldn’t imagine he would have failed to act if he had incriminating information on Bart.

  “So I go to this person,” I said, “and convince them to tell me what they know?” I shook my head. “I don’t even know what this is about.”

  “I told you that you were looking in the wrong direction. You’re looking at recent history, but you need to look deeper into the past.”

  I frowned. “I don’t have any idea what Pam could have done in the past.”

  “Again,” she said. “Wrong direction.”

  “Pam doesn’t have anything to do with this?”

  “She killed a man, didn’t she?”

  “But she was coerced?” I asked.

  She smiled again. “But by whom?”

  Was she insinuating that Pam hadn’t asked for the favor? If not Pam, then who? Was her husband behind this after all?

  “You need to look at Rob Crimshaw,” she confirmed. “As well as his brother and his father.”

  “His brother disappeared, and his father died in prison.”

  She looked pleased. “And Rob Crimshaw is scot free. Do you know why his father was in prison?”

  “Drug possession with intent to sell.”

  “You need to look at the source of those drugs,” she said. “He has the answers.”

  Oh, God. Please don’t let it be Hank. “And who would that be?”

  “You’re a smart girl. You tell me.”

  “Todd Bingham.”

  She nodded and my relief was palpable. “Tell him to give you what you need, and I’ll give him what he wants in return.”

  “He’ll know what I’m talking about?”

  “He will. He’ll be eager to talk.”

  “Why not approach him yourself? He’s outside right now. It would be easy to arrange.”

  “He won’t talk to me, plus it would be unseemly. I needed a go-between, and you’re perfect.”

  “So you’re using me?” I asked dryly.

  “Don’t pretend like you’re getting nothing out of this,” she scolded. “All three of us win.”

  I pushed out a breath. She was right, but I still didn’t trust her.

  “One more thing,” she said. “You can’t tell anyone about our deal. Not my sons and especially not Marco.”

  My back stiffened. “I don’t keep secrets from Marco.”

  “Don’t be deluded,” she groused. “Everyone keeps secrets from the ones they love.”

  That pissed me off. “Not all of us have warped relationships like you do with your husband.”

  “There you go with your delusions of love.” She gave me a sideways wave. “You may leave now but send Max back. He and I still have unfinished business.”

  I stared at her in disbelief. She thought she could just dismiss me? “Speaking of your husband, where is he?”

  “He got called away to the construction site, which gave me more time to spend with Max.” She gave me a shrewd look. “So no, he won’t know that we talked.”

  I had other questions, but I didn’t want risk Bart coming back and seeing me with his wife. He was already suspicious of me. I didn’t need to give him any more fodder.

  “You’re certain this will bring him down?” I asked as I stood.

  “I guess you’ll need to see for yourself.”

  I certainly planned to.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Marco was helping Max change the keg when I went back outside. I was torn between telling him what had just happened, Emily be damned, and finding Bingham and pinning him down for a private conversation.

  The worried look in Max’s eyes sent me straight toward the two guys.

  “Thanks for lookin’ for those cups,” he said as I approached. “I take it from the fact you’re empty handed that you didn’t find them?”

  All of the plastic cups were outside, so I recognized we were talking around my visit with his mother rather than bringing it out in the open. “Yeah, sorry. You might want to go look yourself.”

  “We should be fine since people are bringin’ their cups back up for refills,” he said as he finished changing the keg. He stood and looked me in the eyes. “I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble.”

  “Everything’s just fine.”

  He held my gaze a moment longer. “If you ever get a request or order you don’t want to fill, then let me know, okay? I’ll find
a way to get you out of it.”

  His sincerity and concern were overwhelming. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “You too, okay?”

  He hugged me back, and we stayed like that for a long second before he released me. “We should probably talk soon.”

  I nodded.

  He went back inside, and I turned back to Marco, who was watching me with narrowed eyes.

  “I’m reading a whole lot of hidden context there.”

  “I’ll tell you about it later,” I said. “In fact, we should probably leave soon to discuss it, but first I need to talk to Bingham. Have you seen him lately?”

  “Why do you need to speak to Bingham?”

  “That’s what I need to tell you about later.” I scanned the crowd. “I don’t see him.”

  “I haven’t seen him for a while, but I’ll be honest—I haven’t been lookin’. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen Bart or Emily either.”

  “I have it on good authority that Bart got called away to the construction site.”

  “But not Emily?” he asked with a lifted brow.

  I knew he was a smart man. “I’m going to make a pass around the lot to see if he’s here.”

  “Should I come with you?”

  I hesitated, but if it had been dangerous for him to accompany me to Jonathon Whitmore’s house, it was much more so for him to be seen with me and Bingham. “No. It’s probably better if you don’t.”

  “Carly…”

  I walked over and gave him a kiss. “It’s okay. I promise.”

  “Okay.”

  As I made my way around the crowd, I didn’t see him or Lula anywhere, but Greta and her boyfriend were dancing. The song ended, so I walked over and tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Carly!” she said enthusiastically. “Sorry we missed you this afternoon, but I guess I see why.”

  “Max outdid himself,” I said.

  “I’m sure you had something to do with it.”

  “Less than you might think.” I glanced to the side. “Say, have you seen Lula? I saw her earlier and wanted to say hi and ask about the baby, but I don’t see her anywhere.”’

  She laughed. “Todd took her home. She was nervous about leaving Beatrice so long.”

  “Oh,” I said with a sigh.

  The music picked back up and Greta shouted, “I think Todd had a special night planned for her.” She winked. “I can’t wait to hear about it tomorrow.”

  Which meant going to see him tonight was out of the question.

  “See you later,” she called out as her boyfriend spun her around.

  My earlier joyfulness had faded, but I was eager to tell Marco what had just happened. On my way over to him, I saw Hank sitting to the side of the crowd, talking to a couple of older men. He saw me and smiled, then motioned for me to go on my way.

  I was thrilled he was having fun, and I hoped this would inspire him to get out more. His accessibly fitted car would help.

  When I reached Marco, I pressed myself to his side, wrapping my arms around his waist as I leaned into him.

  His arm curled around my back and he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “I could get used to this.”

  “Me too.”

  “I take it you couldn’t find Bingham.”

  “No, and Greta said that he had a romantic night planned for Lula, so I don’t think it’s a good idea to interrupt that.”

  “It’s close to ten. You really would have gone by Bingham’s if not for their plans? Now I really want to know what happened inside.”

  I glanced up at him. “I’ll tell you. I promise.” Because the last person I was going to take relationship advice from was Emily Drummond.

  He tugged me closer but released me as a customer approached.

  We refilled more cups and handed out soft drinks and water. The cash box was overflowing, and I once again thought Max was more brilliant than he let on. We’d probably made a good deal more money than we would have on a regular night, and he’d provided a much-needed fun evening for the town.

  But I was starting to worry about him. Max had a bad habit of getting blind drunk when he was upset, and his mother had been up there with him for a long time. It didn’t bode well. A half hour later, he still hadn’t come back, and I was desperate enough consider going up to press my ear to the door. Before I could decide, I saw Bart approaching our drink stand, wearing his smug grin.

  “Marco. Carly,” he said jovially. “I see that congratulations are in order.”

  Marco ignored his comment. “What can I get for you? The options are pretty limited.”

  “I’ll take a beer,” he said, reaching for his wallet.

  “I hear construction’s going well,” Marco said, sounding like he was chatting with a friend as he started to fill an empty cup.

  “It was until today,” Bart said with a laugh. “But the power should be restored by late tomorrow morning.” He looked up at the lights strung overhead. “Looks like Max has adapted.”

  “You know Max,” Marco said with a hint of bite. “He’s good at taking bitter lemons and making lemonade.”

  “You still won’t let that go, will you?” Bart asked with a laugh. “Max’s place was here.”

  I realized they were talking about Bart calling Max home after Wyatt quit running the bar.

  “Max’s place was anywhere but here until Wyatt threw it all away,” Marco countered, his voice hard. “But then, we’ll never agree on that topic. I was merely pointing out how adaptable your son is.”

  “Yes, he gets that from his mother,” he said with a tight smile.

  Marco handed him the cup.

  Bart held out a twenty-dollar bill. “Keep the change.” He turned his attention to me. “Cat got your tongue, Caroline? You’re usually so chatty.”

  My blood ran cold as he turned to gauge Marco’s reaction.

  He smiled. “Ah…I’m not surprised Marco knows, but be careful, little one. The more people you tell, the more danger you’re in.” Then he turned around and walked away, walking up to a couple and enthusiastically shaking the husband’s hand.

  “That was a threat, Carly,” Marco said under his breath.

  “I know.”

  My stomach churned, but I didn’t dare run away and let Bart know he’d affected me. Instead, I smiled and greeted a little girl who’d come up to get a Coke.

  Five minutes later, Max finally emerged from the back door, looking more exhausted than I’d ever seen him. He came over to the table and plastered on a smile. “Thanks for covering for so long. You two are officially off duty.”

  “Yeah, I’ve already heard that a couple of times tonight,” I said with a forced smile of my own. “Everything go okay with those cups?”

  His eye twitched. “Yep.” He walked behind the table. “Now go. Hank’s here, and you’ve been stuck behind the table.”

  “I already checked on him. He’s chatting with a couple of guys, and he shooed me away.”

  He laughed, but it sounded strained. “Sounds like him. Don’t worry about taking him home. I’m sure Wyatt will do it.”

  “I haven’t seen Wyatt since he showed up with Hank. I’m not sure he’s still here.”

  “He’ll be back.”

  Marco took my hand. “I’m going to dance with my girlfriend, and we’ll sort out how Hank’s going to get home later.”

  He tugged me around the table toward the dancers, then leaned into my ear. “I’d love nothing more than to leave, but Bart’s here and watching. I don’t want him to think he has that kind of power over you.”

  “I know. I agree. Let’s stay for a bit before we go.”

  The band finished an upbeat song, then started a slow one. Marco tugged me to his chest and linked his hands at the small of my back and began to sway. I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck and stared up into his troubled eyes.

  “How worried should I be?” he asked so quietly I was sure I was the only one who could hear.

  “About
which part?” I asked, tipping one corner of my mouth into a smile. “Bart or my chat with his wife?”

  His eyes widened, then he cursed under his breath. “Where?”

  “In Max’s apartment. I was looking for him to ask him about the keg. His mother was inside, and she sent him out and insisted I stay.”

  He watched me intently.

  “She knows my name, Marco.”

  His face paled. “Did Bart tell her?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “But she insinuated that he either doesn’t keep secrets from her or isn’t able to.”

  He lifted a hand to cup my cheek, and his voice shook. “It’s time for you to go.”

  I stopped in place. “What?”

  He turned to the side, pulling me with him so we were still dancing. “I never thought I’d say these words, but Bart’s right. It’s getting too dangerous for you here.”

  “I’m not ready to go yet.”

  He shook his head. “We’ll figure out where to send you. I have money I can—”

  I put my finger on his lips. “Marco. Stop. I need to talk to Bingham. She said he has what we need.”

  His eyes narrowed. “If he had something, trust me, he’d have already used it.”

  I couldn’t help thinking he was right, but what was I to make of the barter situation she’d set up? Even if it was a bust, I needed to talk to Bingham, and I wanted to see his reaction when I told him about Emily’s request. “We can’t talk about it here. We need to wait until we get home.”

  He smiled softly, but his eyes looked sad. “You called my place home.”

  Despite my fear and my anxiety, I teased, “How do you know I wasn’t talking about Hank’s?”

  “You meant my house. And I can’t wait to take you home.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Hank wasn’t ready to leave and insisted that Wyatt would be back to give him a ride. Then he told me that if he saw me before noon, he’d lock me out of the house. I laughed and reluctantly left him with his friends.

  Marco wanted to drive me home in his Explorer, but I planned on going to Hank’s first thing in the morning, and it would be easier if I had my own car.