Buried in Secrets (Carly Moore #4) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,55

visit to Selena, but first I pulled out my phone and called Hank.

He answered after a couple of rings. “I’m watching my programs, so make it quick.” Loud voices were arguing in the background.

I grinned. He didn’t have caller ID, so he had no idea who was on the line. “Hank, it’s me. Carly.”

“Everything okay?” he asked, sounding concerned. I rarely called him, and he probably assumed I’d walked my way into another mess. He wouldn’t be wrong. The volume of the voices lowered.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m working late so I wanted to warn you that Wyatt’s coming over for breakfast tomorrow.”

“Why?” he asked in a dry tone.

“He just felt like it,” I said. “And he’s cooking.”

“Is he bringin’ real bacon with him?”

“I don’t know.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. While I’d told him not to bring bacon, I wouldn’t put it past him to do it anyway. Then again, maybe not since he was trying to worm his way back into my life. “I didn’t ask for the menu.”

“Hrmph,” he grunted.

“Third, he’s going to be working on your car to make it drivable for you. That way you won’t need to wait on me if you feel like heading into town.” He didn’t say anything. “That’s a good thing, Hank. But if you don’t want Wyatt do to it, we can find someone else.” I cringed, then added, “Marco offered to help.”

“That boy don’t know shit about fixin’ cars.”

“He wouldn’t do it himself,” I said with a small laugh. “He offered to help me find someone else who could.”

“Let Wyatt do it,” he grumped. “He won’t charge us much.”

“Okay, then. Which means Wyatt’s still comin’ over to make us breakfast and look at your car.”

“You don’t need to be here for breakfast. I can let you know when he leaves.”

Did I tell him that Wyatt’s offer came with strings? I’d save that for now. He was willing to let Wyatt help, and I didn’t want to screw that up. “I’ll see you tomorrow, but you can always call me at the tavern after five if anything comes up.”

“You be safe, girlie,” he said gruffly. “And tomorrow morning, stay in bed with the man who deserves you instead of running to the man who turned his back on you.” Then he hung up.

Looked like Wyatt had a lot of groveling in his future.

Before I headed back to Drum, I had somewhere else I wanted to see. Well, two places. I had no idea where Jim Palmer Insurance was located, but I did know how to get to Sonic. If the fast food restaurant was only a couple of blocks away, then the insurance office couldn’t be hard to locate.

I drove past the Sonic, heading south. Sure enough, after I drove a block, I saw a crowd and some bright colors ahead. As I got closer, I realized the people were gathered around a makeshift memorial that consisted of flowers, stuffed animals, and homemade signs in a business parking lot.

I’d just found the insurance office.

I’d only intended to drive by, but I found myself pulling into the parking lot of an abandoned building next door. The lot was nearly full with at least ten cars, but I found a space at the end that was partially grass.

As I walked over, I took in the crowd, which consisted of at least thirty people of all ages. A group of women were hugging each other, and a couple of men stood to one side. There were several boys who looked like they were middle-school age.

I hung back, not sure why I felt drawn to stop, but allowing myself to take in the moment. There was an eight-by-ten photo of Jim in the center, and tears filled my eyes as I stared at it. It was easy to depersonalize this, to make it all about Pam, but the truth was a man’s life had been snuffed out in an instant. Apparently he’d touched many people, and his loss would hurt for some time to come. Pam had done this. Pam had set this tragedy in motion.

No, Bart Drummond had instigated it. And while Pam might belong in a jail cell for her part, it was unfair that she alone should be punished.

I turned around and went back to my car, determined to make this right.

Chapter Sixteen

While I knew the general area where Selena Martin lived, I didn’t have an address. Since Drum was decades behind the rest of the world, the best place to