A Cry in the Dark (Carly Moore #1) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,53

been her,” I said.

He shot me a grin, then parroted back, “Stranger things have happened.”

We were silent for a moment before I said, “I’ve heard some people get cell phone service in Drum. Do you know what service they’re using?”

“Thinkin’ about switchin’ cell phone plans?” he asked dryly.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

His lips twisted and he turned to look at me for a second before turning back to the road. “There’s a smaller service that recently put up a cell phone tower. Most people think it was due to the influence of my father, Bart Drummond.” His hands shifted on the wheel. “I would guess you’ve heard of him by this point.”

“His name has come up,” I conceded.

“The cell phone company is Allegon.”

“Never heard of it,” I said.

“Like I said, it’s small, but my father convinced them to put up a tower so the community could have cell service. Only most people can’t afford a monthly plan, and Allegon doesn’t offer pay-as-you-go plans.”

“Is there an office in Drum?” I asked.

Wyatt sat up straighter. “Why would you be interested in getting a cell service that likely won’t be of any use when you get to…” His eyes narrowed. “Where is it you were headed?”

I nearly told him it was none of his business but decided I didn’t feel like fighting. “Wilmington.”

“And what waits for you there?”

I shrugged, deciding to tell him a partial truth. “I’m between jobs. I was on my way to Wilmington to search for a new one…and I figured I’d take a vacation while doing it.”

He didn’t say anything, and we fell back into silence. I couldn’t help but stew about Austin. I needed to find a way to contact him, but I couldn’t risk calling him from a landline. I’d gotten a VPN account with my new identity, which would prevent anyone from tracing the source of any emails I sent, I just needed to find a computer to use.

“Does the library have computers?” I asked.

Wyatt’s brow lifted. “Uh…yeah. But good luck gettin’ access to one. The library’s only got three computers, and seein’ as how it’s the only internet most people have access to around Drum, there’s usually a waiting list to get on them.”

“But I can sign up to use one?”

He turned to study me as though trying to figure out whether he should tell me something. Finally, he said, “I have a computer at my shop,” he said. “I use it to search for parts, but you can use it if you don’t want to wait on the library.”

I tried to hold my suspicion at bay. “Why would you help me?”

He grinned. “If anyone at the library figures out you’re tryin’ to turn in a tip about Caroline Blakely, they’ll try to horn in on it to get a portion of your reward.”

“But you won’t?” I asked, cocking my head.

“What would I do with a quarter of a million dollars?” he asked. “I’ve got everything I could ever want or need in Drum.”

He was full of shit, but I refrained from telling him so.

“Is that why you came back?” I asked before I thought better of it.

“You mean from prison?” he asked without shame. “You heard, huh?”

My cheeks flushed. “Yeah.”

“I figured,” he said. “I came back because, for better or worse, Drum is my home. I’ve got nowhere else to go.”

I had never felt that way about anywhere, not since my mother had died. I wasn’t sure I ever would again. It made me feel like a coward, but my only plan, currently, was to live my life on the run. A small voice inside my head begged me to stop my father, to destroy him, but I had no evidence against him, and he had resources beyond my comprehension.

When we drove into Drum, Wyatt turned into the parking lot of the garage and pulled to a halt. It was a two-bay garage with a waiting area to the left of the building. It looked like it had once been a service station, but the pumps had been removed. Wyatt’s tow truck was parked on the side of the building, and a dark sedan was parked out front. The garage brought back memories of Henryetta, Arkansas. Neely Kate’s boyfriend, Jed, had worked on my borrowed car. But although he was now a mechanic, he had a background in the criminal underworld, and he was the one who’d secured my new identity a couple of weeks ago.

A new wave of grief hit me, but I quickly

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