One Foot in the Grave (Carly Moore #3) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,6
from the guys who’d experienced it firsthand.
“Blake was running the bulldozer, and the next thing we know, there was a pile of bones,” said a man with a mop of red hair and a stout chest.
Bones. Which meant the body had been there awhile.
“So they called the sheriff,” another guy said. “Even though the foreman insisted they were deer bones.”
“But they weren’t?” I asked, trying to sound like I had nothing beyond a friendly interest. Blake had found them. The crew wasn’t large enough for there to be two men by that name. That meant he’d be able to tell me more if he came in.
“Hell, no, definitely human,” Rusty said.
“They were bones?” I asked. “Not like a decomposing body?”
“Yep,” the guy with the beard said. “Just a bunch of bones.”
So how long had the bones been there? I had no idea how long it took for a body to decompose, but thinking about it made my stomach turn.
We got busy after that. Thankfully, Max came out soon, and to my utter surprise, Wyatt worked with him behind the bar.
I stared at him in shock for a few seconds, and Ruth came up to me and said, “Did hell just freeze over and somehow I missed it?”
“I have no idea…” I turned to face her. “When was the last time you saw Wyatt working behind the bar?”
“Back when he was runnin’ the place.”
Nine years. But based on how deftly he was handling his orders, I never would have guessed it had been that long.
I quickly turned away before he caught me watching him.
The baseball game started and the tavern began to fill. The place was packed, partially because of the game, partially because the construction workers had nowhere else to go, but also because word had gotten around about the body at the construction site. A whole lot of gossiping people wanting to hear the scoop. Every seat in the place was filled.
Ruth and I ran ourselves ragged.
Blake and his friend showed up and filled the last seats at a table, but they sat in Ruth’s section. It soon became apparent that I wouldn’t need to talk to him in person—he told his tale, loudly and proudly, to anyone who asked, and his version was no more elaborate than what I’d already heard. He tried to gain my attention a couple of times, but I was busy enough that I had an excuse to ignore him.
Blake was a popular guy with his new coworkers. They bought him multiple rounds to celebrate his discovery of the bones. He eagerly accepted them, getting drunker and drunker as the night went on.
Marco showed up around nine, wearing jeans and a T-shirt and looking beat. I took a moment to greet him after he walked in the door.
“You look exhausted, Marco. Maybe you should go home.”
He rolled his eyes. “I know it’s a school night, Mom, but I promise to leave by ten.”
I shook my head. “Sorry for carin’.”
His face softened. “I’ve had a shit day, and I needed to see my friend.”
Warmth stole over me, and I gave him a hug. He seemed surprised, and I realized he probably meant Max. They’d been best friends since the first day of kindergarten, and they’d stayed best friends until Max had hidden Lula away and kept it from everyone, Marco (and me) included. They were still friends, but their relationship had been strained ever since. Still, the body had been found on Drummond land, and Marco was probably worried about Max.
I leaned back and grinned. “I know you meant Max.”
“I actually meant you too.” He hugged me tight. “It really has been a shit day.”
I released him and took a step back. “I’ll kick Big Joe out of a barstool so you can sit at the bar. He’s been here for hours.”
He grinned. “I can find my own seat, Carly.”
“Well, good luck with that. Every seat in the place is taken. Maybe you can sit behind the bar.”
He glanced toward the counter and did a double take. “Wyatt’s workin’?”
“He showed up, then he and Max went into his office, and when they came out, Wyatt started working behind the bar with him.”
Marco shook his head. “Wonders never cease.”
“Hey, waitress!” one of the construction workers shouted across the room, sounding pissed. “How about you stop talkin’ to your boyfriend and get me a damn drink!”
“Duty calls,” I said, rolling my eyes.
Marco’s brow lowered into a scowl. “When did Max start lettin’ the customers talk to you