One Foot in the Grave (Carly Moore #3) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,116
reached over and placed my hand over his. “No, Hank. That’s not necessary.”
He shot Marco a glare. “Are you gonna go with her?”
Marco hesitated, and I said, “No. He can’t. Bingham will never talk if he’s with me.”
“I don’t like the idea of you talkin’ to him alone.”
“I think she should wait to talk to him,” Marco agreed. “Maybe you should actually go to work tonight. We can get Bingham to come to the tavern. Where I can keep an eye on him.”
Hank nodded. “And remind him that I’ve claimed her as kin.”
They were starting to irritate me. “I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions.”
“We’re only tryin’ to protect you,” Hank said.
Giving him a soft smile, I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I love you too, Hank.” Then I stood. “What did you eat for lunch?”
Ginger had worked at the tavern today, which meant he’d probably been alone since yesterday afternoon.
“Some of that leftover casserole.”
Guilt washed through me. If left to his own devices for too long, he was bound to eat something unhealthy.
“I’m going to make you dinner before I go.”
“You don’t need to do that,” he said, sounding irritated. “I’ll just have some of that leftover chicken in the fridge.”
“Okay.” I hated the thought of him being alone for so long, and then I remembered the kittens. “Hank, what do you think about cats?”
He made a face. “I don’t have many thoughts one way or the other.”
“Do you like them?”
He frowned. “I don’t dislike them.”
“What would you say if I asked if we could adopt a kitten?”
He studied me for a moment. “I’d tell you to go ahead and get it, so long as it’s an outside cat.”
I wasn’t sure I liked the thought of that, but he hadn’t said no.
His face softened. “You want a cat, girl? Get yourself a cat. I’ll learn to live with it.”
It didn’t seem like the right time to mention I’d committed to two. I’d hoped he would be more excited about the idea, but I reminded myself that I couldn’t expect Hank to get all giddy over a kitten. With any luck at all, the kittens would grow on him.
“Thanks, Hank.”
“Are you comin’ home tonight?” he asked.
“No,” Marco said. “She’s stayin’ with me again.”
I started to protest that I could make my own decisions, but I suspected he was worried after Paul Conrad’s threat. And rightly so. While I knew Hank could protect me, it would be better if Marco defended me instead of an ex-drug lord. I could only imagine what kind of trouble Hank would be in if he shot a deputy sheriff.
“Yeah,” I said, “I’m stayin’ with Marco.”
Hank gave me a long look, then nodded. “Just keep me posted so I know you’re okay.”
I headed into my room and packed a bag with a couple of days’ worth of clothes, then added some toiletries from the bathroom.
“You headed to see Bingham after you leave?” Hank asked as I walked out of the bathroom.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Call and leave me updates,” he said. “Even if it’s late. I’ll just let the machine get it.”
“Hank,” I protested, “there’s no sense in—”
“I’ll call you, sir,” Marco said. “I’ll make sure that you know she’s okay.”
Hank nodded to him as I headed out the door to my car, leaving Marco to follow me.
“Are you really not goin’ to see Bingham?” Marco asked as he got into the passenger side while I got in on the driver’s side.
“Not yet,” I said as I adjusted the seat.
Relief swept over Marco’s face.
“Hank’s right. He won’t appreciate it if it sounds like I’m accusing him of anything,” I said, “so I need to think this through.” But time was not on our side, and the decision made me anxious.
Marco was quiet for a moment, then said, “We can try to find out who worked at the Mountain View Lodge. Maybe one of them remembers seeing Heather and whoever she was meeting.” He shrugged. “It’s also a long shot, and it’ll be harder since it won’t be an official sheriff’s department inquiry.”
“Have we hit a dead end?” I asked, my stomach sinking. What would happen to Wyatt if we failed to clear his name?
“No. We still have Heather’s salon boyfriend. We still have Bingham. We just need to figure out the safest way for you to talk to him.” He shot me a grin. “Bingham, not the salon guy.” He turned his attention back to the road. “Before we do anything else, I need