A Cry in the Dark (Carly Moore #1) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,60
dining room was packed by six, and Ruth and I were hopping to keep up while Tiny and Bitty cooked like a well-oiled machine in the kitchen.
A few of the dinner customers were braver than the lunch patrons, asking me questions about the prior night. Was it true that I’d found Seth? Had he told me who’d shot him? A couple of them even asked if I’d been the one to pull the trigger.
The dinner crowd cleared out by seven thirty and the drinkin’ crowd came in. Tonight it was just a few couples hanging out together and some older guys at the bar.
Carson walked in around eight. I expected him to approach the bar to talk to Max, but to my surprise he took a seat in my section.
He greeted me enthusiastically when I walked up to his table. “We didn’t have the chance to be properly introduced earlier,” he said with a smile. “I’m Carson Purdy. I work for the Drummonds.” He released a chuckle. “The elder Drummonds.”
I smiled back, grateful for a friendly face after being pummeled by frowns all evening—even if the elder Drummonds had sent him here on some kind of fact-finding mission. “I’m Carly Moore.”
He shook my hand. “Nice to meet you, Carly Moore. Max speaks highly of you. Says you’re from Georgia.”
Was he fishing for information? The warm look on his face suggested he was just trying to be friendly, but I didn’t know enough about him to judge. “That’s right. I take it you were born and raised around here?”
He laughed. “I’m from Ohio, believe it or not. I know how hard it can be to break into this town, so if you ever want to chat—outsider to outsider—you let me know.”
He pulled a business card out of his shirt’s front pocket. Did he have a stack of them in there, or had he carried this one around just for me?
“Thanks, Carson, but I’m not staying. Just passing through.”
“Offer still stands.”
I glanced at the card. He’d likely approached me with hopes of getting some information, and yet it occurred to me that I could do the same. He likely knew a lot about the town…and the Drummonds. “Have you worked for the Drummonds long?”
“Since Max and Wyatt were boys. I was practically a kid myself.”
“So you saw this town when it was in its prime.” Taking a risk, I added, “When the town and the Drummonds were thriving.”
He hesitated, obviously suspicious of my comments. “You interested in the history of Drum or just the Drummonds?”
I forced a chuckle. “From what I’ve come to understand, it’s one and the same.”
Shifting in his seat, he picked up the saltshaker and twirled it between his fingers. “The Drummonds have run this town for nearly two hundred years, but times are hard.”
“Max said his father had something secret in the works to help the town.”
A grin lifted his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Max is speakin’ out of turn. Bart Drummond doesn’t like people discussin’ his personal business. If you want to stick around, you’d do best to remember that.”
“I suppose you’ll be sure to report my nosiness,” I said before I thought better of it.
“Not me,” he said, his smile returning. “You’re still learnin’ the way of the place, and like I said, us outsiders need to stick together.” He pointed to the card in my hand. “I meant what I said. We should have a chat sometime.”
He seemed sincere, but I wasn’t sure what to think of him. Maybe it was a bad idea to trust anyone in Drum. “I take it you don’t need a few minutes to consider the drink menu?”
He chuckled and asked for a Coke, which Max took over to him personally. The two of them chatted for several minutes, their heads bent together, and Carson left soon afterward. He’d left a pile of cash on the table, with a bigger tip than I’d gotten all night.
About ten minutes later, Ruth approached me while I was standing by the kitchen window, taking a breather, but the look on her face told me my short moment of respite was over. I decided to head off the questions I knew were coming.
“Does Carson Purdy come in here often?”
She made a face. “Seein’ as how it’s one of the few places to eat in town, yeah. He’s here often enough.”
“What’s he do for the Drummonds, anyway?”
“He takes care of their land, runs errands, typical assistant stuff.”