A Cry in the Dark (Carly Moore #1) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,92
bind. We take care of our own, Carly.” He shot me a quick glance before facing the road. “You understand?”
Three months ago, I would have said, No, I don’t get it at all, but then again, I’d closed myself off from other people after my mother was taken from me. Something had changed in Arkansas. When my car had broken down, Rose and her friends had invited me into their lives. They’d made my problems their own. They’d helped me realize that for all the world’s evils, plenty of people were good. That family could be created out of circumstance, not just blood. “Like you and Tiny standing up to Dwight tonight.”
“We’ll always have your back, Carly.”
Tears burned my eyes. It felt good to feel like I belonged somewhere. That I meant something to someone.
“So Wyatt…?” he said slowly.
He’d already asked this question, so what was he getting at? “Wyatt’s helping Hank. I’m helping Hank. We have a common cause.”
“I get Wyatt’s interest in Seth, but why are you helping Hank?” he asked. “You know that people’s tongues are gonna be wagging.” He leaned toward me and cast me a teasing grin that did little to ease the worry lines around his eyes. “They say he’s got a fortune buried behind his house.”
“So I’ve heard,” I said. “Dwight accused me of trying to steal it.”
“It’s all a bunch of nonsense,” he said. “Some people say Hank’s father left him the fortune and Hank himself buried it back there. Others think it’s what’s left from his past career.” He shot me a knowing look.
What past career?
“And I’ve heard a few people say that his daughter, Barb,” he continued, “stole it from Bingham.”
“If everyone knows Bingham’s bad news, why do you let him into the tavern?” I asked.
“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” He shot me a rueful look. “It pays to be on Bingham’s good side.”
“Literally?” I asked, thinking of what Wyatt had told me about the police.
“No!” he protested. “I don’t tolerate any kind of drugs in my place. And I don’t show up at his place peddlin’ the Drummond moonshine. We respect each other’s boundaries.”
“But the difference is he’s dealing in illegal goods, Max,” I said. “You’re on the up-and-up.” I narrowed my eyes. “Aren’t you?”
“You’ve worked for me for three days,” he said, clearly offended. “Have you even gotten a whiff of anything illegal?”
“Other than you almost stabbing Dwight’s hand?” I said. “No.”
“If I’d wanted to stab his hand, I would have,” he said. “The people in this town lead miserable lives, and they drown out their misery either through alcohol or drugs. I just so happened to have a corner on the legal market, which left the illegal one to Bingham.” He took a breath. “Look, if people wanna do drugs, they’re gonna find a dealer. At least Bingham’s is homegrown and he’s not selling poison.”
“Like the drugs that killed Barbara,” I said.
He cast me a questioning glance. “Yeah. But you don’t need to know any details and neither do I. We need to just live and let live.”
I could read between the lines. Although I doubted he agreed with his own pronouncement, he was trying to get me to leave Bingham alone. I suspected Wyatt had done the same thing earlier, when he’d insisted he wasn’t going to pursue the truck that ran him off the road. In their own way, they were both trying to protect me. Which also meant Max wouldn’t answer any more questions that might help me understand Bingham and the Atlanta connection.
Max pulled onto the narrow road that took us up the mountain, taking the turns and switchbacks slow since his high beams didn’t seem to reveal much in the pitch-black night.
“You got a replacement for the gun you lost?” he asked quietly.
I hesitated. “No.”
He nodded. “I know Hank’s got a few, but he might be asleep and who knows if Dwight plans to show up tonight. Open the glove compartment.”
I did, fumbling for the latch in the glow of the dashboard lights. When it popped open, a dim light illuminated the interior and revealed a small bundle wrapped in a faded red shop rag.
“I want you to keep that with you. Not on you while you’re working at the tavern, mind you,” he hastily added. “I’ve got a strict no-weapons policy in Max’s Tavern, but when Tiny and I aren’t with you…” He turned to face me. “I think you need some kind of protection.”