A Cry in the Dark (Carly Moore #1) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,46

down his cheeks. “This is the way of the world, girl. The evil rule the earth and profit from abusing it.”

My mind shifted to my father. To Jake. To the plans I’d heard them make on the eve of my wedding. “It’s not right.”

“Spoken like a dreamer,” he said, a wry smile cracking his lips. “Sometimes you have to know when to give in. What’s one more poor mountain boy who likely would have lived and died in Drum? That’s exactly what happened to him, only he had fifty years of misery and bondage chopped off his life sentence.”

I might have believed his speech if not for the tears tracking down his cheeks.

I sat in the chair next to him, holding his hand. Hank Chalmers might be willing to accept his grandson’s death as another cruel hand dealt by fate, but I wasn’t.

I would dig up whatever evidence Seth had found and hand it over to the state police myself.

I only had to survive long enough to find it.

Chapter Eleven

“Hank? You doin’ okay?” a woman asked from the doorway. When he didn’t answer, she walked the rest of the way into the room, revealing herself. She was a dark-haired woman in scrubs, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. “Oh, you have company.”

“Patty,” Mr. Chalmers said, “this is my new friend Carly.”

“Friend?” she asked with suspicion. Then she gave me a dark look. “You a reporter here for a story?”

“No,” I said in surprise, dropping Mr. Chalmers’ hand and getting to my feet. “It would be highly unethical to sneak into a bereaved man’s room and try to get a quote about his deceased grandson.”

Her brows rose. “So you know his grandson was murdered? The sheriff’s department swore me to secrecy, claimin’ they haven’t released any names yet. I ain’t never seen you here before, so you mustn’t be too close to Hank. If you’re not a reporter, who the hell are you?”

I stared at her in shock.

“Patty,” Hank barked, “she’s the one who found Seth.”

Her face fell. “What?”

“She came to tell me about his last moments.” His voice caught. “She brought me a blessin’.”

All her fire had guttered out, and she looked close to tears. “Sorry for the misunderstandin’.”

“I’m glad you were looking out for Mr. Chalmers,” I said. “Especially if there are unscrupulous people who would stoop to such lengths.”

She cleared her throat and turned her attention to Mr. Chalmers. “Speaking of lookin’ out for you…” She grimaced. “Now that your grandson won’t be able to take you home tomorrow, I think we should make arrangements for you to be transferred to Sunny Dale.”

“The rehab place?” Mr. Chalmers shouted. “There’s no way in hell I’m goin’ there.”

“Your drain tube is coming out today, which means you’re ready to be discharged, Hank. Medicare says it’s time to go. One way or the other, you’re out of here.” She pushed out a sigh. “I don’t make the daggum rules, but unfortunately, I’ve gotta enforce ’em.”

I remembered Ruth telling me that Mr. Chalmers had come to Greeneville for a leg amputation. My gaze shot to the lower end of his bed, and for the first time I realized the lump for his left leg was longer than his right.

“You know I can check myself out at any time,” he snapped at her.

“That’s true, but you gotta have someone pick you up,” she countered with plenty of sass. “There ain’t a taxi or Uber in town that’ll haul you up that mountain.”

“I’ll pick him up,” I said before I could think it through. I didn’t have a car, but maybe Ruth would let me borrow hers. Or maybe Wyatt would be finished with mine, although I highly doubted it.

“He doesn’t just need a ride,” Patty said in a condescending tone. “He needs someone to take care of him. He needs his dressing changed and help getting in and out of bed and onto the toilet. Are you gonna provide that kind of help for him?”

I glanced back at Mr. Chalmers. “Do you have someone to help you with that?”

He lifted his chin. “I’ve got a home health nurse comin’ at the end of the week. I can make do at home until she gets there.”

My time in Arkansas came flooding back. I’d spent the last month taking care of Rose’s dying sister, Violet. Surely that medical experience could be of use.

“I’ll do it,” I told her, then glanced back at him. “Max was putting me up at his motel, but frankly, I’d