and spotted Ruth approaching us from the café. “I think we should go now. Ruth’s back.”
Max shot a pointed look at his elderly tenant. “I’ll be lookin’ for that donation,” he said.
Big Joe bobbed his agreement, then quickly shut his door.
“Do you believe him?” I asked as we started across the street. “Do you think he didn’t see anything?”
He grimaced. “Yeah, Big Joe’s one of the laziest men I know. I’m surprised he got up to answer the door. He must have been worried we were cops.”
“What about Jerry? Do you think he’s okay?”
He paused, then said, “When Jerry gets scared, he wanders off sometimes. He’ll be okay.”
“Do you think he saw something that scared him?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Max said with a worried look. “I guess we’ll ask him when he turns up.”
Ruth had almost reached us when I asked, “Would you have really kicked Big Joe out?”
“Yep.” He turned his gaze to me. “That place might not be much, but I still control who lives there. And if he doesn’t have more concern for a good kid than that, then I don’t want him.”
“But you let him stay.”
He started to answer, but Ruth held up a drink carrier with three coffees and two bags as if they were sacred offerings. “The front bag’s yours, Maxwell. I can’t guarantee that Greta didn’t spit on it.”
He let out a long-suffering sigh.
She gave him a pointed gaze, which then drifted to me before landing back on him. “I hope you learned a valuable lesson, Maxwell. You don’t shit where you eat.”
“Point taken,” he grumbled.
“Good.”
He pointed at Ruth. “You better have Carly back by noon. You know it’s bound to be as busy as shit with the nosy people comin’ in. I’m gonna need her and then some.” The pleading look on his face made it clear he was asking her to volunteer to work too.
“No freakin’ way,” she said. “I deserve a day off, Max, and you damn well know it, and I’m not even getting that. Just the lunch shift.”
“Fine,” he grunted, then reached for a coffee cup in the tray and pulled it free. “But just remember it’s Carly you’re leavin’ hangin’.”
Ruth’s lips pursed. “I guess I’ll just take that chance.”
She headed around the building toward the back parking lot, leaving me to follow.
“Y’all be careful,” Max called after her. “The bridges might still be icy.”
Ruth lifted her hand in the air in a half wave. “It’s warmin’ up and you damn well know it. Love you too.”
We were silent while we walked to her car. As we headed out of town, the opposite way that I’d come in with Wyatt, she tossed me the bag.
“Put two of those flavored creamers in my coffee and hand it over, would you?” she said. “I’m needin’ a caffeine fix.”
“How long have you worked for Max?” I asked, stirring her creamer into her coffee and replacing the lid.
“That’s a good question,” she said, taking the cup without shifting her gaze from the windshield. “Max has owned the place about eight years. He took it over from Wyatt right after his arrest.”
I blinked in surprise. “What?”
She cast me a confused look. “I already told you that Wyatt went to prison.”
“Not that part. The part about Wyatt owning the tavern.”
She released a bitter laugh. “Wyatt never owned it. He ran it for his parents. Max was at college and had to come home to take over the business. Bart was too busy runnin’ Drum to run it himself.” She took a sip of her coffee and cursed. “Why do they have to make it so damn hot it scalds your tongue?”
“Good question,” I said as I started doctoring my own. “But Max owns the tavern now?”
“Yep. Bart signed it over to him when Max came back. Max said he wouldn’t run it unless it was good and truly his.”
“Did that piss Wyatt off?”
“You would think so,” she said, risking another sip. She had to be really desperate for caffeine. “But Wyatt had turned his back on ’em all, even Max, while he was waiting for his trial, then totally snubbed his family when he came home.”
“So Max quit college to come home and run the tavern? What was his major?”
She shrugged. “I forget. Something to do with business, but Bart told Max he’d teach him everything he needed to know about business. Maybe that’s true, maybe it’s not, but Max never went back.”
“How old was he?” I asked, wondering what kind of relationship