Buried in Secrets (Carly Moore #4) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,39
know that’s where the deal was supposed to go down?” I felt awful telling her a fib. The truth was we knew how he got there—Bingham. But there were still plenty of pieces missing, especially since the video footage he’d died to obtain was gone, erased by someone we still hadn’t identified.
Being here, talking to these people who’d known him, I realized that I still wanted to know more about him. I’d just refrained from asking Hank because I knew it hurt him too much to talk about what he’d lost.
More tears fell down her face. “I just want to tell her I love her and that I forgive her.”
“Have you tried to go see her?”
She shook her head. “My dad won’t take me, and I don’t have a car.”
I tried to hide my surprise. “Do you want to go see her?” She hesitated, so I added, “I’d be happy to take you. I have to go to Ewing anyway.”
For a moment she looked relieved, then she cast a fearful glance at the house. “My dad wouldn’t like it. He said she’s dead to us now.”
“I take it your father has a strong sense of right and wrong.”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t know the half of it.” Tilting her head toward me, she said, “He’s always in the front pew at the First Baptist Church in Ewing.”
“Oh… Well, Jesus said to love the sinner and hate the crime.”
An amused look washed over her face. “You don’t go to church much, do you?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Yeah. It’s love the sinner, hate the sin,” she said with a hint of disgust that made my stomach clench, but then she added, “But then you don’t know my daddy. Do you go to church?”
“Um, no,” I said. “Although Carnita, the librarian, has invited me to the Methodist service in Drum.”
Her face brightened. “I know Carnita. She’s always so nice when I drop by the library.”
“What do you like to read?” I asked, starting to get excited. “I’m about to start a book club.”
“Read?” she said with a sharp laugh. “I go for the DVDs. She’s got a great collection.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised. Carnita had told me more than once that I was one of the only patrons who took any interest in the book collection.
Her eyes narrowed as she looked me up and down. “Why would you offer to take me to see my momma? What’s in it for you?”
Now I felt like pond scum, because there was something in it for me, so I decided to be somewhat truthful. “Because I like your mother, and I can’t help but think there are extenuating circumstances.”
Her nose wrinkled. “What’s that mean?”
“It means I want to try to help her. I don’t know how to do that, but I do know she needs a good attorney, and I’m not sure the court-appointed one meets that description. So if you talk to her, maybe ask her what he’s done to help her, and we can decide if she should get someone else.”
“And who’s gonna pay for that fancy lawyer?” she asked with a sneer. “My daddy’s not payin’ for him, that’s for damn sure.”
“Well, I don’t know yet,” I admitted. I figured I’d find out if a new attorney was needed before I picked at the problem of how we could afford one.
“Why would you care?” she asked suspiciously.
“Like I said, I like her and want to help.”
“Nobody’s that nice.”
I understood her suspicion. Maybe I couldn’t convince her to let me help, but I could at least try. “I have a tutoring club at the tavern. Two days a week, kids come in and I help them with homework. This summer I’m helping them either keep from falling behind or try to catch up. I don’t get paid to do it, but I like kids and I like the feeling of helping them master something that was hard.” I shrugged. “I don’t have any answers for your mom, but she’s always been nice to me, and I feel like I have to do something. Some people bring casseroles, others get their hands dirtier.”
“And in your case, you do both,” she said with less venom.
“Yeah,” I conceded. “I guess I do.”
“I want to see my momma, but I’m supposed to be at work at one.”
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked the screen. It was a little after eleven. “Where do you work?”