missin’?”
“I don’t know. I expected him to show up by now, but he’s probably fine.” Please God, let him be fine.
“Should we send someone to look for him?” she asked.
Should they? If I said yes, she’d want an explanation, wouldn’t she? I’d have to tell her about the intruder earlier, whose visit we had chosen not to report. It would lead to a cascade of questions that might shine a spotlight right on me. I hated that my issues were putting Marco’s life in danger, but I knew what he’d want me to say. “No, that’s okay. He’s probably somewhere out of cell range, but if you keep an eye out for him, I’d appreciate it.”
“No problem. Let us know when he turns up, and we’ll do the same.”
“Thank you.” I hung up and glanced over at Max. “I have to find him.”
“You can’t go alone,” he protested. “Where are you even goin’?”
“I’m going to see if someone ran him off the road coming home from Ewing,” I said, tugging on the strings of my apron.
“Why would someone run him off the road?”
“Maybe you should ask your father,” I snapped as I tossed the apron onto the counter.
“My father?”
I started for the back. “I have to go.”
He grabbed my arm. “Let me come with you.”
I turned back to face him and pulled out of his hold. “Wyatt’s not working tonight. There’s no one here to cover the bar.”
“You can’t go alone, Carly. Especially if my father’s involved.”
“And you can’t leave the bar.”
“Marco’s my best friend. If you think something happened to him, I’m coming.” He waved Ruth over and told her she was in charge.
“What’s goin’ on?” she asked. “Does this have something to do with Bingham comin’ in?”
Oh crap. Bingham. He would be out back waiting for me in a few minutes. “No. I’ll explain later.” Or at least I’d come up with something to tell her.
I stopped in the storage room to grab my purse and quickly checked to make sure my gun was loaded.
“What the fuck’s goin’ on, Carly?” Max asked in a growl from the doorway.
I checked the safety on the gun, then dropped it back in my purse before looking up at him. “I’ll explain what I can on the road. I’m driving.”
He opened his mouth to protest, only to close it again without saying anything. My car was a lot smaller and newer than his truck. It would be better at handling the curvy mountain roads.
But Bingham was already waiting for me as we walked out the back door, leaning back against his SUV. He shot Max a dark glare. “I ain’t talkin’ to him. Just you or no deal.”
“I can’t talk at all,” I said on my way to my car. “I have to go somewhere.”
Bingham pushed away from his truck, his body tense with anger. “This is a one-shot opportunity,” he said. “Talk to me now or not at all.”
I stopped walking and gave him my full attention. It was going to take some fancy footwork to smooth his ego. “I’m really, really sorry, Bingham, but this is an emergency.”
His jaw set and a hard look filled his eyes. “You are not my puppet master, Carly Moore. You do not get to say jump and expect me to do it. You’ve already irritated the shit out of me. You either talk to me now or not at all.”
I held out my hand. “Bingham, I’m not trying to jerk you around. I swear.”
He moved closer, until he was less than a foot away from me. Max took a step toward him, but I held up my hand to hold him off.
Bingham ignored him entirely. “Do you know how bad it’ll look if I let you get away with this?”
“Who’s going to know?” I pleaded. “I won’t tell.”
He gestured to Max and said in disgust, “Him.”
Max lifted his hands. “I’m not any part of this. This is between the two of you.”
But Bingham didn’t look swayed.
“Look,” I said, “I’ll either call or come by your place tomorr—”
“No.” His voice was menacing. He pointed to the ground. “Either now or not at all.” When I didn’t answer, he said, “I do not make concessions for people. They make concessions for me. I think you have overestimated my gratitude.”
What was I doing? Marco was probably at home in the shower. I was throwing away the opportunity to find evidence to nail Bart to the wall, and it would probably take me five minutes, ten minutes at