Buried in Secrets (Carly Moore #4) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,73

chopping. “What does that mean?”

“We both know you’re not goin’ to stay here forever, and if Marco’s promised to leave with you, you can’t count on that.”

“Why not?” I asked before I could stop myself.

He set the box on the table next to the cookie sheet. “Because he and Max are tied at the hip. Hell, he went to college in Knoxville because Max went there, and before our mother fetched Max to run the tavern, the two of them were planning to open a bar in Nashville together. Sure enough, Marco came runnin’ back to Drum to be close to Max, goin’ so far as to get a job with the sheriff’s department to help protect him.” He gave me a sad look. “He’s never gonna leave Max, Carly, so don’t delude yourself into thinking otherwise.”

I stared at him in shock. “You think I don’t know about his friendship with Max? The good and the bad? I suspect I know a whole hell of a lot more than you, because he tells me things, Wyatt.” I left off the unlike you.

He grimaced. “Look, I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Bullshit. He was hoping to drive a wedge between Marco and me while trying to paint himself as the good guy.

“God, you just don’t learn, do you?” I asked, shaking my head. “Why are you really here right now? I thought you had to be at the garage.”

“Junior’s coverin’, and I’m here because you asked me to come.”

“Great way to twist things around,” I said. “This was your condition for helping Hank with his car. I had to spend an hour with you.” I waved my knife toward him. “I guess you’re in here collecting your full hour, huh?”

“I came in here to help you with the dishes,” he said.

“But for all Hank knows, we’re in here having a nice chat, so I think we’ve both fulfilled our ends of the bargain, which means you’re free to go.”

He pushed out a heavy sigh and pulled off a sheet of foil. “Carly, this wasn’t how things were supposed to go.”

“No,” I said, my voice cold. “I’m sure you had delusions about sweeping me off my feet and us getting back together, but that’s never going to happen.”

“Carly—”

This conversation was shot to hell, so I figured I might as well go for broke. “What were you doing at the tavern the other night?”

He froze. “What?”

“Two nights ago. You came in, you and Max went into the back for about ten minutes, and then you left. What was that about?”

“Carly.”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” I said in disgust. “You’re so full of secrets you’re buried in them.”

“I was there to shoot the shit with my brother,” he nearly shouted. “Do I need a reason to talk to my own brother?”

“You were talking to him, but it wasn’t to shoot the shit.”

His nostrils flared. “Then what was I doin’ there?”

I nearly told him what I suspected, but I needed to keep my investigation under wraps for as long as I could, which meant I couldn’t clue him in. I shouldn’t have said anything at all.

“It’s time for you to go, Wyatt,” Hank said from the kitchen doorway.

Wyatt’s face paled. “Hank, I realize we—”

“No,” Hank said in a cold tone. “I told you to leave this girl alone unless you were ready to come clean, and here you are, pesterin’ the shit out of her. You just can’t stop beatin’ a dead horse, can ya?” he sneered. “Just like the rest of you Drummonds. Now go.”

“Do you still want me to work on your car and your roof?” Wyatt asked defensively.

“Yeah, but since you can’t find the self-control to leave Carly alone, only when she’s not here.”

Wyatt gave me a pleading look, but I returned to chopping my carrots. The whack of the knife striking the board filled the room as I put a little more effort into it than necessary.

I heard rather than saw Wyatt walk away. Hank followed him out the front door, and the truck engine started then faded.

I was spreading the carrots on the cookie sheet Wyatt had covered with foil when Hank returned.

“I knew he’d pull some kind of bullshit,” Hank said in disgust. “You should have stayed at Marco’s.”

“I promised, although I’m not sure I fully lived up to my end of the bargain.”

“Then I’ll pay him money, because you don’t owe that man a damn thing.” He heaved himself onto a chair and rested his crutch against

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