Her Scream in the Silence (Carly Moore #2) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,11

you, Lula. Don’t you worry.”

“Ruthie’s mad at me, and Max’ll barely talk to me.”

“You know what?” I said in a bright voice. “That’s in the past. We’re gonna move forward, okay? If you need help multitasking, I can help. I became a master at it when I was a—” I cut myself off as I realized I’d been on the verge of telling her about my past as a third-grade teacher. That was the old me. Caroline Blakely. I’d been Charlene Moore for a month now, and in hiding for even longer, but I still made slips. “I learned it back in retail. I’ll help you, so don’t you worry.”

“Why are you bein’ so nice to me?” she asked, swiping her cheek with her hand. “You don’t even know me.”

“Because, despite their current frustration, Max actually does like you and so does Ruth. I trust their judgment. They’re just mad that you left them high and dry. If you don’t do that again, you’ll be fine.”

She studied me with deep, soulful eyes, then said, “I won’t be goin’ anywhere. I need this job, Carly.”

“You just do your best,” I said. “Come to work on time. Don’t run off again. Do your job, and you’ll be fine. If you get behind or overwhelmed, I’ll help out, okay?”

She threw her arms around me and buried her face into my shoulder. “Thank you, Carly. I knew you were a sweet person the moment I laid eyes on you.”

I cast a glance to the bar and caught Ruth’s scowl. While I knew that Ruth liked the girl, I also knew her patience was thin.

Pulling free, I said, “Let’s get this section cleaned up. The football crowd’s due any minute, and they’re gonna be so excited to see you.”

“Really?” she asked in surprise.

“You bet. They nearly kicked me out my first night, wondering why I was workin’ instead of you.” I gave her a beaming smile. “So let’s clean off the tables, and you can head to the bathroom to fix your mascara so you’ll be ready to meet your adoring fans.”

“I’m sorry if they were mean to you.” Her frown was back. It was like she showed every emotion that fluttered through her head, and I suddenly felt a strong urge to protect her.

“I’m fine. Don’t you worry about me. I assured them you’d be back, and all was well with the world.” I picked up a stack of plates and held them out to her. “You take these to the back. The Applebaums are ready for their check.”

She took the dishes and I took the bill to my customers in the booth, who had shown signs of being ready to leave. Once we were settled, I took Wyatt and Jerry their food.

“What’s goin’ on with Lula?” Wyatt asked, casting a glance toward her as she bussed another table.

“She’s having a rough transition back,” I said.

“That girl’s touched,” Jerry said, turning his gaze on his plate. “Never been right since she almost drowned as a girl. About eight or nine.”

“What?” I said in horror. “How awful.”

“Her daddy done tried to drown her in the creek that ran at the back of their property, and her mother shot him with a shotgun. Heard she had to do CPR on Lula until the ambulance arrived. She ain’t been the same since.”

Now I felt even more protective of her. “What happened to her mother?”

“Incarcerated on second-degree murder.”

Gasping, I turned to Wyatt. “How in the hell did that happen?”

Wyatt’s eyes darkened. “Hensen County.”

I’d learned that the county was such a cesspool of corruption it was a wonder the whole place didn’t stink like a swamp.

“One fight at a time, Carly,” Wyatt said in a soothing tone, but his words had the opposite effect. They made me impatient. Although he was the one who’d suggested we take our corrupt fathers down, the idea had made me feel strong for the first time in a long, long while. His promise was one of the main reasons I’d chosen to stay in Drum, but nearly three weeks had passed since Bart Drummond’s right-hand man had tried to kill me, Wyatt, Jerry, and Deputy Marco Roland, and we’d done nothing.

Had Wyatt manipulated me? I’d dated a long string of narcissists, culminating with Jake, my former best friend and fiancé. Somehow I’d always missed the signs until it was too late.

“So we start tonight?” I pressed.

His expression wavered. “It’s been a long day for the both of us.”

Another stall, which sounded perfectly reasonable—they

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