“If something feels off or Louise threatens you in any way, get the hell out of there, okay?” he said, his eyes full of worry. “Just because I’m there doesn’t mean you’re fully protected.”
“If I feel like I’m in danger, I promise to leave.”
He nodded, looking only slightly relieved.
On the drive, I had plenty of time to think about how to broach the subject of Louise with Hank, but I still hadn’t figured anything out by the time I arrived at his place.
He was on the front porch when I pulled up to the house. His kitten was on his lap while Letty was running across the yard, chasing after a squirrel.
“Your hellcat’s chasin’ away all the birds again,” he grumbled as I climbed the steps.
“I suppose I could take her to Marco’s,” I offered, though grudgingly, because Marco and I were both gone a lot. Here at the cabin, she had Hank and her sister Smoky to keep her company.
“I didn’t say I wanted her to go,” he said. “Just pointin’ out the facts.”
I couldn’t hide my smile. “Have you had breakfast?”
“I had one of those English muffins you got me. Had it with an egg.”
“I haven’t eaten yet, so I’m going to grab some breakfast and then join you.” I went into the house, prepared to put the living room back together, but everything was in its place. The kitchen was in pretty decent shape too, only a few dirty dishes in the sink and on the counter next to it.
After I popped an English muffin into the toaster, I poured a cup of coffee and added creamer. Once the muffin was ready, I slathered it with strawberry jam and carried both out onto the porch.
“Did you have fun last night?” I asked as I sat down in the chair next Hank.
“Fun?” Hank grumped. “Poker’s not about havin’ fun. It’s about winnin’ money.”
“Okay, then,” I said, then took a bite of my muffin. “Then did you win a lot of money?”
He scowled. “No.”
“So who did?”
“Big Joe. He won a streak of games after you left. Called you his lucky charm.” He shot me a dark look. “Don’t you be encouragin’ that kind of talk.”
“Why not?” I asked, deciding this was the opening I needed. “Don’t you trust Big Joe?”
“I trust him about as much as I trust anyone on God’s green earth.” He leaned toward me, lowering his voice. “Which is not very much at all.”
Lifting the mug to my lips, I took a sip. “Considering how long you’ve lived here, that’s downright sad.”
“You’re a fine one to talk.”
I lifted a brow in surprise.
He sat back in his chair and pushed out a breath. “Wyatt told me that group your father ran is gone. Said it was called Hardshaw.”
My stomach turned sour. Hank knew I was hiding from my father, but up until now he hadn’t known any details, per his request. He’d thought it was better that way. Looked like Wyatt had taken it upon himself to destroy that. “Wyatt did what?”
He kept his gaze on the yard. “Came out here last night. Thank God he showed up before the guys got here. He was spittin’ mad, tellin’ me you were bein’ hardheaded and refused to leave Drum on account of me.”
The blood washed from my head. I cupped my mug with both hands to keep from dropping it. “What?”
“He said he’d confronted you, and that you told him to go to hell.”
“Oh, he confronted me, all right, but that’s not what I said.”
He turned and gave me a worried look. “You didn’t tell him you were stayin’?”
“I told him I was stayin’, but I never told him to go to hell. At least not last night.”
He stared at me for a moment, then burst into laughter. “He must have been paraphrasin’ because he looked like a man sportin’ for a fight after gettin’ his ass kicked.”
I shook my head, then told him about my confrontation with Wyatt. “I told him I wasn’t ready to go yet. That I have things that need to be done.”
“Like protectin’ me?”
That damn Wyatt.
I held Hank’s gaze. “Just because Hardshaw is gone doesn’t mean I’m no longer in danger. My father still wants me, as I’m more of a liability to him now than ever.”
“Then go to the damn FBI, girl,” he said in frustration. “If that crime syndicate isn’t around, your father has no teeth. Tell them what happened.”
I released a bitter laugh. “Would you go to the FBI, Hank?”
“No,” he said, recoiling. “It ain’t my way.”
“Maybe it ain’t my way either, not in this.”
The truth was, I’d go in a heartbeat if I thought they could bring down my father. But I was pretty sure he was still surrounded by a fortress of corruption. For all I knew, he had people implanted in the FBI.
“Look,” I said, setting my mug on the table between the chairs. “I don’t have any evidence against my father. It’s all he said, she said. They can’t do anything to him except for maybe issue a restraining order, and that’s nothing but a piece of paper. When I was in Arkansas, I talked to someone in law enforcement, and he advised me to run. He said the FBI would see me as small-fry, and because of my lack of evidence, they’d try to convince me to return home wearing a wire. See if I could coerce my father into saying something to incriminate himself. But my father wants me dead. There’s no way he’d tell me something I could use against him. Going back home would be a death sentence.”
“Then don’t go back home,” he said, getting frustrated. “Just leave.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why do you seem so eager to get rid of me?”
“I don’t want to get rid of you, but I don’t want you wastin’ your life here either.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” I asked. “Wasting my life?”
He scowled. “I didn’t say exactly that.”
“I have you, and you’re more of a father to me than Randall Blakely ever thought about being. And I have Max and Ruth and the tavern.”
He snorted. “The tavern.”
“They’re my friends, Hank. I care about them too. And then, of course, there’s Marco.” Just the thought of leaving him made my stomach cramp. “So yeah, life in Drum isn’t anything like my old life, but there’s purpose and meaning here too.”
“This ain’t no Hallmark greetin’ card.”
“No, but there’s no denying I’ve found more love here in seven months than I have since my mother died, and that’s no small thing, Hank.”
His frown deepened.
“Still,” I added to appease him, “I’m not sitting around and accepting my fate either. I’ve started looking into my past and trying to find out more about my mother.”
“So you’re leavin’ after all?” he asked, and I thought I saw a glimmer of relief but also maybe it was sadness.
“All I’m saying is that I’m looking into my mother’s past,” I said, narrowing my gaze. “I located her best friend, and I’m going to try to contact her.”