That raised a ton of questions. Why had Hank decided to reunite with men from his past now? “Thanks for the heads-up.”
As I was reaching for the doorknob, Max said, “Carly, I know you don’t think you can trust me, and I get it. I ain’t gonna press you to confide in me. But I can’t help thinkin’ you’re like a frog in water that’s slowly comin’ to a boil. My parents aren’t people to trifle with, so if you need help, come to me. I’ll help you. Okay?”
I turned back to face him, my hand still on the knob, my breath blown away by the sincerity in his face. “Thanks, Max.”
He nodded, his jaw tight and his eyes glassy. “You’re family.” Then he motioned to the door again. “Now go on with you. I’ll be out in a bit.”
I didn’t waste any time heading on out to the dining room, but I couldn’t help mulling over the idea that he was building himself a family because the one he’d been born into was full of secrets and lies. Yet somehow it didn’t ring entirely true. If he’d decided to turn his back on his biological family in favor of one he’d chosen, why had he let his relationship with Marco flounder? They’d had a falling-out last December, and while they’d mended fences, their relationship wasn’t what it had been.
The truth was, I wanted to trust Max, but I couldn’t. The only person I fully trusted in Drum was Marco, with Hank coming in at a close second. Now I had to figure out how to tell Marco about my confrontation with Wyatt in a way that wouldn’t end with Marco hunting him down and beating the shit out of him.
Chapter Five
As soon as I entered the dining room, Ruth made a beeline straight for me. “What was goin’ on with Wyatt?”
I made a face, not sure what to tell her.
“He’s pissed that you’re with Marco,” she said.
I was sure he wasn’t pleased with the situation. Just last week, he’d tried to convince me it was a bad idea to start a romantic relationship with Marco because he’d never go with me when I eventually left town. “He’s not happy about it.”
“Well, it doesn’t give him any right to manhandle you like that.”
I pursed my lips. “Wyatt doesn’t seem to be himself.”
“Maybe it’s Jerry’s accident,” she said, glancing over at the stool where Jerry used to sit. “It’s shook all of us up.”
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat as I headed over to greet some customers walking through the door, still wearing my pink shirt.
We had a good crowd for a Monday night, and to no one’s surprise, people were already talking about my run-in with Wyatt. It was easy to blow off the first few people who asked by replying, “You know how people blow things out of proportion,” but then one of my regulars noticed welts on the inside of my upper arm that looked like fingerprints.
I hurried to the back and put on a lightweight sweater I kept in my locker in the storage room, even though the dining room was stuffy. The fact that hardly anyone mentioned my pink shirt told me that most of them were preoccupied with my confrontation with Wyatt. News spread fast in Drum, but that seemed incredibly fast.
Was Wyatt the one doing the gossiping in an attempt to force me out?
There weren’t any special ball games or racing events on TV, so things slowed down enough at around eight thirty that Ruth and Max both insisted I head home. Ruth even suggested she’d handle my tips. I suspect she just wanted me out of there because I was a huge distraction, but I also knew she was worried about me. The anxious sideways glances she kept throwing my way proved it.
I relented, mostly because I didn’t want to deal with the attention either. Heading behind the bar, I grabbed the telephone Max kept under the counter and left a voicemail for Marco that I was headed to his house and would have something for him to eat when he got home.
“Is that what the kids are callin’ it these days?” Max teased, but it sounded forced.
I shot him a mock glare as I put the phone back under the counter, but I couldn’t help smiling a little.
“You want to cancel Tutoring Club tomorrow?” he asked. “I suspect people’ll be talkin’.”
“And they’ll be talking until they get it out of their system. That won’t happen until they see me in person.”
“Still . . .”
I gave him a hug, squeezing his neck. “You’re the best boss a girl could ever hope to have, and an even better friend.” I released him and offered him a smile. “I’ll be fine. I’ll deal with it, and by Wednesday, they’ll all be talkin’ about Greta Hightower and her new boyfriend.”
“Greta has a new boyfriend?” he spat out before he could collect himself.
I wasn’t sure why those two hadn’t worked out, but that was a worry for another day. I had plenty of my own. “I was teasing, Max. I don’t think she has a boyfriend right now.”
“Oh.”
I gave him another hug, because I could tell he was pining over Greta, in addition to feeling stressed over his family situation. Once things died down, I’d have to have a sit-down with Greta to get her take on the situation.
As I headed toward the back, Ruth called after me, “Don’t you be wearing that pink shirt again!”
Max groaned.
After I grabbed my purse and told Tiny goodbye, I headed out to the parking lot with my pepper spray in hand. As I was opening my car door, I heard a raspy voice behind me say, “You and me need to talk.”
Spinning around, I saw the skinny woman from lunch standing at the back of my car. I gripped the canister of pepper spray even tighter in my fist. “And you think sneaking up on me in a dark parking lot is the best way to announce yourself? Seems like that’s a good way to get yourself shot here in Drum.”
A smile tugged at her cheeks, but it didn’t seem all that friendly. “It’s like I said. We’ve got unfinished business, and I needed to catch you unawares.”
She had a wild look in her eyes. She struck me as a woman who had nothing to lose, and that scared the crap out of me.
My back stiffened. “I’m pretty sure we’ve never met, so what unfinished business might that be?”
All the same, there was a strange sense of familiarity I’d sensed earlier.
“I heard you were good at lookin’ for stuff.”
I hesitated. “I’ve helped a few people.”
“I want you to help me.”
“What do you want me to do?” I asked warily.
“I don’t want to talk about it here,” she said. “Bring me breakfast tomorrow morning at the laundromat at ten o’clock.”
Taken aback, I couldn’t help asking in disbelief, “You want me to help you, yet you want me to bring you breakfast at the laundromat to boot?”
I wasn’t usually so abrupt but it hadn’t been a good day and I just wanted to go to Marco’s and wait for him to come home.
“You’re gonna want to talk to me, Carly Moore. Your snoopin’ could help us both.”
Although it came as no surprise that she knew who I was, hearing my name roll off her tongue made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “What does that mean?”