Her Scream in the Silence

by Denise Grover Swank

  He burst out laughing again. “That piece of shit isn’t worth more than two grand.”

  “I just gave you a useful piece of information, so perhaps that deserves compensation, but back to Louise… why would Bart Drummond want Walter dead? Someone told me Walter used to work for Hank, but when I asked him about it, he told me Walter was too stupid to do anything for him.”

  So why had Louise brought up Hank’s name when she’d gone to the Drummonds’ house?

  Shit. “Oh…Louise was working for Hank.”

  “I suspected but didn’t know for certain,” Bingham said. “Even so, Hank didn’t have a reason to want Walter dead…that I know of, anyway, and I can’t think of a single reason Bart would. It’s an intriguin’ story, but that’s all it is. A story.”

  “What did Louise look like?”

  He snorted. “You think I’m carryin’ a photo of her around in my pocket?”

  “Lula’s a pretty girl. Was her mother pretty? Did she get a lot of male attention?”

  “Is that your delicate way of asking if she was a slut? No. She slept with her share of men, but she did so one at a time. Everybody was shocked as hell when she married Walter Baker. He was dumb as a stump and worthless to boot. Louise was the brains of the two, so if anyone was doin’ a job for Hank, it was her.”

  I wasn’t sure what to do with this information, so I added it to the growing pile of clues and facts in my head, hoping to sort it out later.

  “I didn’t have anything to do with either of them disappearin’,” he said, more earnest than I’d ever seen him, “and I definitely didn’t know about the packages Lula was deliverin’, but something’s obviously goin’ on under my nose.” He paused. “If you come across information that you think I’ll find useful, I’d be happy to pay for it.” For a brief moment, I could see concern in his eyes, and I realized he still cared about her. Then he added, “Lest you think I’m planning to retaliate against the girl, I assure you that I won’t touch a hair on her head. Someone was usin’ her, and I know who.”

  “Her mother?”

  “She’s a master manipulator, and I can guarantee you that Lula wasn’t doin’ shit without Louise’s say-so.”

  Which meant I really needed to talk to Louise. I just didn’t know how to make that happen.

  The look on Bingham’s face suggested he was done, and the customers were getting restless.

  “This has been very helpful, Mr. Bingham. Thank you. Now if we could reach an agreement on my car, it would be a very fruitful evening.”

  “Thirty-five hundred,” he said. “Not a penny more.”

  “Thirty-seven fifty,” I countered. “And we keep the lines of communication open.”

  His brow shot up. “You want to exchange information again?”

  I had two choices when it came to Bart Drummond—I could run or I could stay and fight. Despite his initial promise, Wyatt clearly wasn’t inclined to include me in his plan, which meant I had to make a plan of my own. But fighting Bart Drummond would mean sinking to his level, and if I had to fight dirty, I’d need temporary allies like Bingham. Maybe I was being naïve, but I didn’t have a lot of time to second-guess myself.

  “I’m going to bring Bart Drummond down,” I said, “and I might need more information from you to help me make that happen.”

  “Why are you goin’ after Drummond?” he asked, all pretense gone.

  Obviously I wasn’t going to tell Bingham the real reason—the last thing I needed was yet another dangerous man knowing who I was—so I hoped my explanation would convince him. “Because he reminds me of a bigger asshole I know, and I’m considering takin’ Bart Drummond down for practice before I take on the other.”

  True enough.

  He grinned. “That, Ms. Moore, is an agenda we can both agree upon.” He extended his hand. “Four thousand for your car, and we have a deal.”

  I shook his hand, knowing full well what I was getting into.

  Hank was right. It was better to deal with the devil you know.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “I’ll have an associate drop by with the check on Monday,” Bingham said. “Just let Wyatt Drummond know that my men will be pickin’ it up.”

  “Will do, but don’t you want to know about the title?”

  He grinned. “I don’t need the title.”

  “Okay…”

  He started to get up, then settled back on his seat. “You got paper and a pen?”

  “You giving me a bill of sale?” I asked as I pulled my order pad and pen out of my pocket and pushed them across the table.

  “No.” He wrote down a phone number. “This is my direct number. It’s a satellite phone. I get reception just about everywhere.”

  A satellite phone? Why hadn’t I thought about that? Bart had brought a cell carrier to town, but Bingham probably wouldn’t want to use it on principle alone, not to mention it didn’t reach far outside of Drum city limits. “How much do those cost?”

  He laughed as he slid the ticket over to me. “More than you can afford. Don’t call this number just to shoot the shit. You better have something important to discuss. And don’t share it with another damn person. It’s for you only. Got it?”

  I picked up the paper and folded it in half. “Got it.”

  Then he stood and walked out the door.

  I got up and started making the rounds. When I made it to the counter, Ruth gave me a look of disbelief. “Well? What did he want?”

  “I was right,” I said. “He was here to make a deal about my car. Four thousand.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Todd Bingham came here all alone to make a deal about your car?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And it took y’all that much time to reach a deal?”

  I shrugged. “What can I say? It was a tough negotiation.”

  “What were you showing him on your phone?” she asked suspiciously.

  I hadn’t seen Shane in the tavern the night before, but it occurred to me that she might have. I slid my phone out of my pocket and pulled up his photo. “Did you see this guy in here last night?”

  She took the phone and squinted at it. “Your phone takes crap pictures.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I know, but did you see him?”

  She pushed out a breath and held the phone closer to her face. “Maybe?” She looked up at me. “Where the hell did you take this photo?”

  “Greener Pastures nursing home in Ewing.”

  “Are you lookin’ for a replacement for Wyatt?”

  “At the nursing home?” I asked in disbelief. “No, but I think this guy kidnapped Greta.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Greta from Watson’s Café?”

  “Yeah.” Which wouldn’t mean much to her unless she knew everything else. I’d thought it best to keep my worry about Lula from her, but maybe that was a mistake. Ruth knew a lot about Drum and the people here. She might be able to help. Besides which, she was my friend, and it felt wrong to keep this from her. It concerned her too. I took a deep breath, then added, “And it’s somehow connected to Lula.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What are you talkin’ about?”

  “Lula didn’t just run off this time. Someone took her. Even Marco thinks so. We’ve been trying to figure out what happened to her, and after we questioned Greta, she disappeared too. She came here last night to talk to me, not Max. She answered some questions about Lula, but then she saw something that scared her, and I had Max walk her out to her car. But she never went home, and her sister and her coworkers say she’s not dating anyone, so they have no idea where she is.”

  Worry filled Ruth’s eyes. “Did you talk to her cousin?”

  “Ginger? Yeah. And I even went to Greener Pastures to talk to her nana, which is where I got the photo.” I pointed to the picture on the screen and explained what I’d learned about Shane Jones, holding back that I’d seen him today at the garage.

  “So he was stalking her?”

  “I think he thin
ks she knows something about Lula.”

  She stared at me in disbelief. “Like what?”

  I knew police usually held back information, and it didn’t seem like a good time to tell her about Lula’s packages. “I don’t know, but he’s looking for something.”

  Frowning, she looked at the photo again. “I think I may have seen him a few months ago, but his name wasn’t Shane. It was Charlie. I don’t know his last name. He came in with Dwight Henderson.”

  I gasped. That was the link I needed.

  Dwight Henderson had been part of Carson Purdy’s gang.

  We got busy again after that and stayed that way until well after midnight. We closed at one, and I realized Max still hadn’t returned.

  “Should we be worried?” I asked.

  “Normally, I’d say no,” Ruth said. “But in this instance, I don’t know. Tiny said he left with Wyatt. He’s never done that before. Why don’t you call Wyatt and ask him?”

  I shook my head. “I can’t. We broke up.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “For real?”

  I nodded.

  Worry creased the corners of her eyes. “Does this mean you’re leavin’ Drum?”

  “I’m not just here for Wyatt. I like living with Hank. And I like working here with you and Tiny and Max. If I still have a job.” A lump filled my throat. “I want to make things right with Max. I hate being at odds with him.”

  She put her hand on my arm. “Don’t you worry. We’ll make it right.” She gave me a little squeeze, then said, “Now, what happened with you and Wyatt?”

  I’d kept so much from her, I wanted to be as honest as I could about this without giving too much away. “Wyatt keeps his past locked up tighter than the gold at Fort Knox. He won’t tell me hardly anything. Nothing about his past girlfriends. His family. Not even why he’s at odds with his father and Max.”

  She started to say something, but I sighed and held up my hand. “Before you tell me that we’ve only been together a month, I’d like to point out that I’ve shared very deep, intimate things about myself, and he hasn’t even come close to reciprocating.”

  She tilted her head and gave me an are you finished look. “I was tryin’ to say that the very same thing was part of what broke us up. He’d gone out with Heather for years. They broke up, and about a month later we started seein’ each other. We were together for only about three months, but he never told me why they’d broken up, or anything about anything. It was like he was dropped onto Planet Earth without a past. It’s hard to get close to someone who won’t share his life. And then I found him kissing Heather in the back room.” A wry grin twisted her lips. “And that was the other part of what broke us up.”

  My mouth parted as her words sunk in. His reticence to share his past hadn’t come out of some need to protect me, and this had all gone down before his time in jail, so it wasn’t just that his incarceration had changed him. This was a pattern.

  “That’s part of my beef with Lula,” she continued. “I don’t dislike her, really. It’s more that I don’t trust her. I can’t help but think Wyatt never opened up to me because I was the filler until he got back with Heather. Why waste his time and make himself vulnerable? Right or wrong, between her runnin’ off and keepin’ her business to herself, I can’t help thinkin’ it would be a waste of my time to get to know Lula better.”

  While I understood why she felt that way, I wondered how deeply Wyatt had hurt her for her to still be so affected.

  She pushed out a sigh of exhaustion. “Go home and get some rest. Since we’re runnin’ with just three of us, we’ll open at four tomorrow. Enjoy your partial day off.”

  We walked out to the parking lot together, and Ruth followed me home until I turned off at Hank’s. While we’d never discussed that I might be in danger, it was like she was making sure I got home safely. It made me even more grateful for her friendship.

  I was exhausted, but my thoughts kept tossing around, refusing to let me sleep until well into the night. I had set my alarm for seven thirty, but I hit the snooze button a few too many times and woke up after eight.

  Hank was on the porch again, so I took a quick shower and washed my hair and blow-dried it into loose, fluffy waves, then went out to make him some oatmeal and fruit.

  I brought his food out on a tray and set it on the small table between the chairs.

  “You don’t get too cold out here?” I asked. “I can get you another blanket.”

  “Stop your fussin’. I’m fine.”

  We were silent for a few moments, watching the birds, before I said, “I’m goin’ out with Marco again, so I need to change your compression bandage before I leave.”

  “I already did it,” he grumped, then shoveled a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth.

  “Then I want to take a look at it before I go.”

  “I’ve got to learn how to do some of this myself,” he said. “You’re workin’ doubles and cookin’ and cleanin’ and takin’ care of me.” He turned to look at me. “Since Ginger’s gonna help out a few days a week, I don’t think we need Wyatt comin’ out here anymore. He upsets you too much.”

  “But you like Wyatt. He keeps you company while I’m workin’.”

  “And maybe he can come back at some point, but for now, I think it’s best all the way around if he’s not hangin’ around.”

  “Hank…I’m sorry. I feel bad.”

  “Don’t feel bad. It ain’t nothin’.”

  It was plenty of something.

  “Hank,” I said carefully. “I have some follow-up questions after our chat last night.”

  “Okay…” He sounded leery.

  “I know you said Walter Baker never worked for you, but what about Louise?”

  He sat perfectly still while the birds on the feeder released a melodic call.

  “Hank?”

  “I don’t like dredgin’ up old memories.”

  “And I hate to make you dredge them, but this is important.”

  “She worked for me some. She helped process the pot after it was harvested and bag it up. I fired her because I suspected she was spyin’ on me for Drummond.” He took a sip of his coffee, then made a face. “Cold.”

  “I’ll get you a fresh cup, but first tell me when she worked for you in relation to the murder.”

  He took another sip of the cold coffee, and his look of disgust was so dramatic I knew he was stalling.

  “Hank.”

  “I fired her the day before it happened.”

  Oh crap. “So when she showed up at the Drummonds’ looking for Bart and mentioned your name, it was because she was letting him know she was no longer in a position to spy for him.”

  “Likely,” he admitted.

  “So she did ask Bart for a favor,” I said, not all that surprised. “And the payment was to spy on you. But what did she get in return?”

  “Hell if I know,” Hank said. “She could have just been reporting to him for the hell of it.”

  “You seriously have no idea?” I asked.

  “It all happened over a decade ago, girlie. You need to let it go.”

  I could see Marco’s SUV through the trees next to the road. Hank was going to luck out of the rest of this conversation. At least for now.

  “You got something goin’ with the Roland kid?” he asked with plenty of attitude.

  “No. We’re just friends lookin’ for another friend.” Or two. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but there should be enough leftovers for dinner tonight. I’ll make a pot of chili tomorrow.”

  Marco pulled onto the property and drove toward the house. When he stopped, he rolled down his window. “You ready?”

  Hank looked fit to be tied. “Don’t you know it’s not polite to pull up to a lady’s house and honk, expecting her to run out for your date?”

  Marco’s eyes widened.

  “Hank, I told you it wasn’t a date,” I said in exasperation. I sent Marco an apologetic glance. “I’ll run in to get my bag.”<
br />
  I brought Hank’s dirty dishes inside, setting the oatmeal bowl in the sink and filling it with water while I got him a fresh cup of coffee. Then I grabbed my bag and purse and headed out the door.

  “Maybe don’t have Wyatt stay away today,” I said. “It’s gonna be a long day all by yourself.”

  “If you’re gonna keep gettin’ rides, then I can start drivin’ again,” he said. “It’ll be nice to get out. Maybe go to church.”

  I blinked in surprise. “You want to go to church?”

  He’d never once mentioned it.

  “What? You think I’m gonna catch on fire if I cross the threshold?” he grumped, his gaze firmly on Marco.

  “Of course not, but I could have taken you. It’s part of my job. And I’ll be getting my own car soon enough,” I said, handing him the fresh cup of coffee. “I sold my old one to Todd Bingham last night for four thousand dollars. We’re going to Ewing today. Maybe I’ll look for a new car while I’m there.” Although I had no idea how Hank would go about driving without a right leg. I’d call the doctor’s office tomorrow.

  Hank gave me a frown. Did he think I was more likely to leave if I had my own car? I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for caring, Hank. I haven’t had someone who cared for me like this for a very long time.”

  Not since my mother.

  He gave me a warm smile. “Be safe today. I have a feelin’ you’re pokin’ some big hornets’ nests with sticks.”

  That was twice I’d been told this very thing, and boy was it true.

  “You know it,” I said with a grin, then bounded down the steps and got into Marco’s Explorer.

  When I got inside, Marco said, “Did I hear you say you sold your car to Bingham last night?” He shot me a dark look. “Did you go out to his property alone?”

  “No. Ruth opened the tavern around six and called me into work. He came by to see me. And he was all alone.”

  He backed up the SUV and headed to the road. “That’s not like him.”

  “Yep. I asked him about Shane Jones and showed him my photo, but he claims Shane doesn’t work for him. However, I showed the photo to Ruth and she does remember him. He came in a few months back with Dwight Henderson.”