“Can you take two?” she asked in nearly a whisper. “Football nights are crazy.”
“I’ll take as many as you like,” I said. “And I’ll share the tips with you.”
“You don’t have to do that, Carly.”
“We’ll sort it out later,” I said. “But you’ll be doin’ me a huge favor if you handle Wyatt.”
“Of course,” she said, nodding her head, “I’ll do anything for you, Carly. You just have to ask.”
I wasn’t sure why that worried me.
Chapter Four
Just as we worked out which two tables I’d cover for her, some of the guys started showing up. When I’d first started working at Max’s Tavern, I’d thought it was strange that so few women showed up for football nights, but Ruth had explained the Methodist Church hosted a knitting club on Monday and Thursday nights, although she was fairly certain it involved more wine drinking and gossip than it did knitting.
“Lula’s back!” one of the guys shouted, grinning from ear to ear. He was an older man, in his late fifties, and he pulled her into a hug and twirled her around in a full circle.
She let out a squeal. “You put me down, Fred Myers!”
He laughed and set her down as though she were made of glass. “We missed ya, Lula girl.”
Her cheeks flushed as she gave him a soft smile. “I missed all y’all too.”
“You’re not leavin’ again anytime soon, are ya?” he asked in a worried tone.
“No, sir,” she said solemnly. “I’m stickin’ around for good this time.”
“Mighty glad to hear it!” Fred exclaimed, then headed over to a table near the TV and out of Lula’s section.
More men wandered in to watch the game, all of them enthused to see Lula, and she made the same sheepish look every time. As the night progressed, I realized most of the men treated her kindly and tolerated her slowness and her occasional mistakes with generosity, and I also realized I’d been mistaken about the situation. Before I’d met Lula, Max and Ruth had led me to believe that Lula was popular because she had an ingénue personality. But now I could see that the men genuinely cared about her, and my heart nearly burst.
Wyatt soon figured out that I’d handed him off to Lula, but I ignored his attempts to get my attention. It wouldn’t kill him to stew a little bit, and I wasn’t sure where I stood right now. I needed time to sort things out.
Around halftime, Todd Bingham walked through the door with his toadies filing in behind him like an entourage, which wasn’t far off the mark.
His appearance caught me off guard. I hadn’t seen him since he’d shown up in the tavern the night that Carson Purdy had tried to kill me. What was he doing here tonight?
But I understood the second his gaze landed on Lula. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end even before his gaze turned to me. A grin spread across his face, but it didn’t meet his eyes, not that I was surprised. Bingham had been plenty jovial when quizzing me about what I’d seen the night of Seth’s murder, but none of it had been genuine. Bingham struck me as a sadist who took perverse pleasure in watching people squirm, and he was clearly waiting for a similar reaction from me now.
He’d wait all fucking night. Todd Bingham had no reason to bother me anymore. He’d unmasked the traitors who’d attempted to steal his business, their identities confirmed by me, and he’d meted out his “justice.” Although he’d told me that he would let the final two men run, their bodies had turned up in a ravine down the mountain last week. Further proof, as if I’d needed it, he was not to be trusted.
I cocked my head and gave him a surly gaze. “Are you waitin’ for an escort to a table? You know how this works. Find an open table, and you’ll be waited on as soon as we get to you.”
He didn’t like my retort, but I didn’t care. I was done letting men intimidate me, even ruffians like Bingham.
I turned my back on him and caught a glimpse of Max, who was now behind the bar, working side by side with Ruth. The scowl on his face suggested he’d noticed my exchange with Bingham, although the roar of the crowd was loud enough to drown out what we’d said. I saw him reach down his right side, and even though the bar hid his body from the waist down, I suspected he was reaching for the hunting knife strapped to his leg. He was expecting trouble. Did he know something about Bingham that I didn’t? Was the criminal up to something new? I definitely didn’t like the way he’d been watching Lula. I’d be sure to keep an eye on that situation.
I waited on a few customers, placing orders for cheese dogs, nachos, and wings, as well as refilling beers and the occasional whiskey or tequila shots. Those were ordered more frequently on the weekend, when the men were in a more celebratory mood.
When I finally made it to Bingham’s table, he was surrounded by his friends—a term I used loosely for the men who always seemed to gather around him like a cloud of gnats. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he stared up at me with an expressionless gaze. “Lula’s back.”
“You’re pretty observant,” I sassed back.
“And you’re pretty smart-mouthed,” he countered, but he didn’t look as furious as I’d expected.
“And now that we’ve gotten reacquainted,” I said with my hand on my hip, “how about I take your order?”
“Where’s Lula been?” he asked.
“Well, I suppose that’s Lula’s business, and if she wants you to know, she’ll be sure to tell you.”
“Then send her right on over so I can get to askin’.”
“No can do,” I said. “She’s got her own section to deal with. You’re stuck with me.” Then, because I couldn’t resist, I added with a bright smile, “And my sunny disposition.”
He studied me for a moment, as though trying to figure out if I was for real, then started to laugh. I’d heard him laugh before but only for effect—this laugh was extra proof that the previous ones had all been counterfeit. This one was genuine, and it caught me off guard. Based on the looks of the people around him, they’d been taken by surprise too. When he settled down, his smile faded and his eyes took on a hint of warning. “Let me give you a lesson, little girl. When I ask for something, I expect it to be done.”
“Well, shame on your parents for not teaching you that the world doesn’t revolve around you. Now do you want to order something on the menu, or should I go take care of my paying customers?”
His eyes darkened and I knew he was done tolerating my back talk. “No one speaks to me that way.”
I let out a heavy sigh, but my heart was racing. Todd Bingham was a dangerous man, and I was playing with a freaking bonfire. Even so, I couldn’t let him boss me around. He might be a lot rougher than my father, but they had a lot in common—both men were arrogant enough to believe everyone in the world had been put there to serve them and do as they said. Anger billowed in my chest. I’d spent most of my life cowering from my father, trying to stay off his radar, but I was done. I wasn’t going to let Bingham tell me what to do, and once I left this town, I was going to find a way to stop my father. With or without Wyatt’s help.
I stepped closer, standing over him. “And no one orders me around. No. One. Not even you.”
He jerked upright, placing one hand on the table and the other at his waist, and it was then I saw the bulge under his shirt, not that I was surprised he was carrying. I’d learned that Drum was a lot like the Wild West, not just because it was hidden away from the rest of the world, but also because most people carried a gun of some type. So far there hadn’t been any shoot-outs on Main Street at high noon, but then I’d only been here for a month.
Turn around and walk away, Carly. But I couldn’t do it. If I backed down, I’d start the transformation back to Caroline Blakely, the proper daughter of a supposedly respectable man. The woman who’d let so damn much slide. I’d discovered I liked being Carly Moore too much for that.
I narrowed my eyes and glared down at him. “What are you gonna do, Bingham? Shoot me in the bar? Not a good idea. Max is p
retty wicked with his knife, and I wouldn’t be surprised if his blade was embedded in your chest two seconds after you pull the trigger. Besides, you and I both know there’s one more thing that’s gonna stop you from touching a single hair on my head—your agreement with Hank Chalmers.”
Hank had been the previous drug lord of the area, something I’d learned after moving into his house. He’d ceded his territory to Bingham, but there were two iron clauses attached to their agreement. Hank had pledged to stop growing his much coveted high-quality weed, and in exchange, Bingham would never touch Hank’s kin. Hank had claimed me as kin, and while that offered me certain protections, I knew Bingham was a little fuzzy with the rules. Still, there was no twisting attempted murder to fit their arrangement.
He lifted both hands to the sides of his head. “You’ve got an active imagination there, girl.”
I didn’t back down, still glaring at him. “I have a name and you will use it. You may call me Carly or Ms. Moore. Your pick. If you refuse, then I’ll refuse to wait on you.”
“I’ll just move to Lula’s new section.”
“Not a chance in hell is that happening.”
I wasn’t surprised when I heard Max’s voice directly behind me. “Is there a problem here?”
Bingham gave me a long, cold stare before lifting his gaze to Max. “Carly and I were just getting reacquainted. A lot to catch up on.”
“Uh-huh,” Max said, putting his hand on my upper arm and pushing me to the side. “So are you all caught up now?”
“Not quite,” Bingham said, his gaze following me. “But we’ve reached an understanding or two.”
“Carly?” Max asked, and his tone let me know that all I had to do was say the word and he’d kick Bingham and his men out. Which would likely cause him nearly as many problems as firing Lula.
“I wouldn’t be as generous as Bingham about our progress, but I’ll concede that we’ve reached an agreement.”
Max looked back and forth between us, uncertainty in his eyes.
“Mr. Bingham,” I said with a tight smile. “What can I get for you and your friends?”
Bingham’s cold, dark eyes penetrated mine. A chill ran down my spine, but I didn’t blink—those third graders had taught me a thing or two.
After about five seconds, he glanced away, looking even more pissed than ever. “Two fingers of whiskey.” Two of his men ordered well drinks, while the other four ordered draft beer. Most everyone asked for wings or a burger. Max stood next to me the entire time, and while I appreciated him jumping in to protect me, I felt like I’d been holding my own. We both turned and walked away from the table, and I snuck a quick glance back at Bingham, who had his gaze firmly on my ass.
Gross.
“Carly, a word in my office,” Max said in a tight voice.
I searched the room for Lula, my protective instincts kicking into high gear, but I locked eyes with Wyatt first. Somehow I’d forgotten he was in the dining room. For a moment, I wondered if he’d missed the excitement with Bingham—he hadn’t intervened, after all—but his ramrod-stiff body and the dark look on his face let me know otherwise.
Lula was at a table next to his. “Just a moment,” I told Max, then strode toward her. Wyatt must have thought I was coming to see him, but I ignored him, instead sidling up to Lula and leaning into her ear. “Stay away from Todd Bingham.”
She turned to me in surprise. “Why?”
“He wants to talk to you for some reason, and I don’t trust him.”
She swallowed and worry filled her eyes. “He wants to see me?”
“Do you know why?” I asked.
She didn’t answer, instead glancing back at Bingham. She seemed nervous, which made my decision for me.
“Come with me,” I said, wrapping an arm around her back and leading her over to Max, who was waiting at the back door with an exasperated look.
“I wasn’t callin’ a damn staff meetin’,” Max grumbled.
I ignored him and continued on to his office, practically dragging Lula.
“Ruthie won’t like that neither one of us is out there,” she said in a trembling voice.
“Ruth?” Max snapped. “What about me? I’m the damn owner of this place, in case no one’s noticed.” He turned to me. “Why the hell is Lula back here?”
“Bingham wants to talk to her.”
“So?” he asked as though my statement was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “He likes her. She usually waits on him.” He shook his head, narrowing his gaze on me. “Are you saying that big to-do out there was over Bingham wanting Lula to wait on him?”
“That big to-do is because I don’t trust him with her. I don’t like the way he looked at her.”
“Are you serious?” Max demanded. “He looks at everyone that way.”
I caught Lula’s gaze. “You are not to go near him, okay?”
She nodded, confusion filling her eyes. “I need to get back to work.”
“We’ll talk later, okay?” I said gently.
“Okay.”
Once she left the room, Max turned back to me. “What in tarnation is goin’ on? You’ve known that girl for all of three hours, so why are you acting like a mother hen?”
“I like her.”
“I like her too, but her job is waitin’ on customers.”
“Why are you bein’ so stubborn about this? You were on Bingham like white on rice when he was threatening me.”
“He wasn’t threatenin’ her, Carly.”
I shook my head. “No. I saw the way he was lookin’ at her, and something’s going on there. Were they a thing in the past?”
“Are you askin’ if Bingham was screwin’ her? Probably at some point.”
I scrunched up my face. “Ew! He’s old enough to be her father.”
Max shrugged. “He’s a powerful man. Women find that attractive.”
I wasn’t about to touch that subject with a ten-foot pole. “Are you sure Lula went to Chattanooga? Could she have run off because she was scared?”
Max shook his head. “Scared of Bingham? Half the town’s scared of Bingham, and if you had any sense in your head, you’d be scared of him too. Which brings me to the whole reason I brought you back here—do not antagonize Todd Bingham.”
My jaw dropped open. “You’re taking his side on this?”
“I’m not takin’ anyone’s side, but I’m warning you that you do not want to make an enemy of that man. He’s dangerous, Carly, which you should already know since you had some run-ins with him a few weeks back.”
I almost told him about Hank claiming me as kin, but I wasn’t sure if his arrangement with Bingham was common knowledge. Information was a currency in this town, and I needed to treat it as such. While I trusted Max to some extent—and wanted to trust him more—the only two people I completely trusted in this town were Hank and Wyatt, and I was having major misgivings about the latter. “I’ll be fine,” I said, lifting my chin and straightening my back. “Are we done now? I need to get back to work.”
He gave me a frustrated look, then let out a groan. “Dammit, Carly. I’m not trying to be a bad guy here. I’m worried about you.”
I relaxed slightly and gave him a soft smile. “I know. And I’m sorry if I scared you, but I just can’t back down to a man like him. They like to use people and then stomp all over them when they’re done.”
Understanding filled his eyes. “You’ve dated someone like him.”
I noticed the slight furrow in his brow, and I suspected I knew what he was thinking. While my bobbed, shoulder-length auburn hair gave me more of an edge than my previous long blonde hair, I still didn’t look like the type of woman who went out with drug czars.
I took a breath. “In a sense, yes. I’ve dated powerful men who had the resources to hurt me, and I tucked tail and ran.” The banked anger inside me, never totally extinguished these days, heated up. “But I’m not runnin’ this time, Max. I’m standin’ up for myself.”
As
soon as I finished my pronouncement, I realized I’d given away far too much.
“Ah…” he said with a single bob of his head. “That explains why you’re here.”
I knew they all had to think it was odd that I’d chosen to stay. Everyone knew I’d only come to Drum in the first place because I’d had the supreme bad luck to break down outside of town. While I’d been stranded because repairing my car would have cost more money than I had, and more money than it was worth, most people would have called friends or family and asked them to wire them money. I’d hunkered down and hadn’t called anyone.
“You runnin’ from a man, Carly?” he asked gently. “Are you runnin’ from someone who hurt you?”
Tears welled in my eyes. This conversation had taken an unexpected turn and his question caught me by surprise.
“I know you’re runnin’,” he said softly, taking a step closer to me. “All the signs were there, but I never asked because it’s none of my business. But you and Bingham…it all makes sense now.”
“Please don’t tell anyone,” I implored, grabbing his forearm to hold him in place until he agreed. “No one can know.”
He studied me with new eyes, as though seeing me for the first time. “What’s your interest in Lula?” he asked, but then his eyes lit up and he nodded. “You see yourself in her.”
I wasn’t sure that was entirely true, but it served my purpose to let him think so.
“I really need to get back to work, Max,” I said barely above a whisper.
“You’ve got nothin’ to be afraid of, Carly. We take care of our own here.”
He’d told me that before, and despite Bitty’s betrayal, it had largely proven to be true. But would they still consider me one of their own when they learned that almost everything they knew about me was a lie? Suddenly, I was feeling all kinds of vulnerable and exposed.
He must have seen some of my fear, because he wrapped me in a gentle hug and said, “If some man’s comin’ to find you, you need to tell me so we can be prepared.”
The domestic violence angle worked well for my story, so I went with it. Pulling away, I said, “That’s so sweet of you, Max, but he’s not gonna come lookin’ for me. He’s glad to be rid of me.”
Her Scream in the Silence Page 4
