I lightly smacked his arm. “I think they know Louise is back and intends to stir up trouble.”
His eyes narrowed with skepticism. “And Bingham plans to address it with a history book? Because I’m struggling to imagine him reading. Are the books big enough to use as bulletproof shields?”
I groaned. “Marco . . .”
The thing was, Bingham was a complicated man, and while he came off as a hothead sometimes, most of his behavior was calculated. I had no trouble imagining him reading up on the past so he could manipulate it to benefit his future.
“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.” He sobered. “You’re not gonna show up at the laundromat, are you?”
I frowned. “I haven’t decided yet.”
He pinned me with an intense gaze.
“It’s true. I haven’t, although most of me plans to meet her.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he said, still studying me. “Everything I’ve heard about Louise Baker paints her to be a dangerous woman. She’s playin’ some kind of mind game, and I can’t help thinkin’ you’re goin’ to get hurt.”
“So come with me,” I said. “Be my backup. She wants to meet me at ten, and you’re workin’ the night shift.”
“You seriously think she’s goin’ to talk if I’m around?”
“Come on, Marco. Think out of the box.” I cocked an eyebrow. “Think like an undercover detective.”
He was silent for a moment, and I could see he was wrestling with his conscience. He didn’t want me to go, but he’d never presume to order me around. “I could show up before you and do some laundry.”
“Yeah.”
“One small problem,” he said. “If she knows you and Max by sight, there’s a chance she knows me.”
“So don’t shave and dress grungy. Maybe wear a stocking cap.”
“In June?”
I shrugged. “It’s not that warm in the morning. And if she’s agitated you’re there or you get the sense that she’s dangerous, you can give me some kind of sign not to come in.”
He was silent for a moment. “I could put my red T-shirt in the window. I’ll wad it up and stuff it behind the back of a chair.”
I’d never been in the laundromat, but I’d gone past it often enough to know what chair he was talking about. “Okay. So it’s a sting.”
He grimaced. “I’m still not crazy about this idea.”
“Neither am I, but last December she told me that Bart Drummond was the one who tried to drown Lula. If she’s got some proof of that, we could put him away.”
“If she had proof of that, she would have put him away thirteen years ago. She’s plannin’ to use you, Care, and if you walk into this thinkin’ anything else, you’re gonna get hurt.” He paused. “And I’m not just talkin’ about your feelin’s.”
“I know.”
“There’s also the possibility she has something on Hank.”
“I’ve considered that too,” I said. “In fact, Hank was having a poker night at his house tonight for all his old buddies from his drug-running days. So I dropped by to pick up my laundry and check it out.”
“I know for a fact that must have gone well, because if any one of ’em treated you disrespectfully, I would have heard a call on the radio about a murder out at his place.”
“Not necessarily,” I teased. “I suspect Hank knows how to dispose of a body.”
The look on his face suggested he wasn’t amused.
“I doubt the poker game was a coincidence. Hank did sit and talk with some of them last week at the street festival, like old friends catching up, but my gut says they’re preparing for something.”
“For what though?” he asked. “If Louise has something solid on any of them, I find it hard to believe she sat on it all this time. She would have found a way to manipulate it to her advantage.”
He was right. Louise had proven her ruthlessness in her dealings with her own daughter. She wouldn’t have hesitated to break a man who’d done her wrong. Still, I couldn’t let this go. Not yet.
He held my face between his hands and gave me a light kiss. “We’re in this together. I’ll grunge myself up to do my laundry, and if she doesn’t suspect me of being up to something devious, you can go in and talk to her, and I’ll eavesdrop. Then we’ll compare notes.”
I nodded. “Thanks for backing me up on this.”
“I love you, Care. I’m not lettin’ you do this alone.”
“I love you too.”
His gaze turned serious. “I think this means we’re up to the part when you tell me how you got those bruises on your arm.” His eyes flew wide. “Was it one of Hank’s friends? Does Hank know?”
“It wasn’t one of Hank’s friends, although one of them carried my laundry basket out to the car for me so he could give me a talking-to about living with Hank. I think he believes I’m after Hank’s nonexistent money.”
“You keep saying he’s broke, but I don’t know if that’s true,” he mused “That man made a lot of money, but he was also a miser. I half believe the stories that he has his fortune buried somewhere.”
“If he does,” I said, “he doesn’t have ready access to it. As evidenced when I paid for part of the crappy roofing job on his house.” Then I grudgingly admitted, “Which Wyatt fixed for free.”
Thinking about Wyatt put me in mind of our confrontation. My thoughts must have been all over my face, because Marco’s expression went blank.
“Something happened with Wyatt. Was he at Hank’s too?”
I took his hand in mine, hoping that holding on to him would soften his reaction. “No. He wasn’t at Hank’s. I talked to him at the tavern.”
He set his bowl of stir-fry to the side before turning back to me, his brow raised slightly.
“He did this?” He released my hand and carefully reached for my arm, turning it to get a better look at my bruises. “He grabbed your arm hard enough to hurt you?”
I pushed out a sigh and tears stung my eyes. “Promise me you won’t run out of here to track him down.”
“Carly—”
“Please, Marco. I need to be able to tell you what happened and know you’ll still be here with me when I finish. We’ve both had a really shitty day, and I need you to just hold me, okay?”
The tension in his shoulders eased. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever asked that of me.”
I gave him a weak smile. “Get used to it, because it won’t be the last.”
He scooted down a bit so that he was reclining on the pillows and reached an arm around me, tucking my body close. “I don’t know if you realize how much you mean to me,” he whispered.
“I think I do, because I feel the same way about you,” I whispered back. I draped my arm over his chest, my hand resting over his heart, and I took comfort from its steady rhythm. “Wyatt came into the tavern to put up some shelves for Max to display his new merch. Max and Ruth had just gone into the back office to argue over the new shirts, so I was alone when he came in. He said he wanted to talk privately. I figured he wanted to push me to break up with you, so I told him we could discuss whatever he wanted right there behind the bar. Then he said he was surprised to still see me there. That he expected me to be gone already.”