Her Scream in the Silence (Carly Moore #2) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,137
minute. Ruth said you disappeared from work on Sunday night. But hours later you called me up, askin’ to speak to Lula. First of all, how’d you know she was with us? And second, what kind of fool do you have to be to join forces with Todd Bingham?”
“For your information, I figured the Lula part out all on my own, thank you very much, and as for hooking up with Bingham—how dare you! I’d be dead several times over if not for that man. I was poisoned and almost shot, so fuck you, Wyatt Drummond.” I pointed my finger at him, my voice breaking with tears. “Fuck. You.”
“What the hell are you talkin’ about? Nearly shot?” His eyes widened as though he was finally realizing how sick I’d been. “Poisoned?”
I shook my head and took a step backward. “No. You didn’t trust me enough to tell me to call off my hunt for Lula. Which means I no longer trust you with the details of my life.” I drew a deep breath. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment with a man who thinks highly of himself and likely won’t appreciate it if I’m late.” I turned and started walking to Hank’s car.
“You on Bingham’s payroll now?” he called after me.
I spun around, so hurt I could hardly take a breath.
“Thank you for saving me from any regret. But that reminds me—I sold Bingham my car, so let his associates take it when they show up. I know I still owe you money for the work you did, but you can just send me a bill.”
He closed the distance between us. “What the hell happened to us?” he asked.
“I grew a backbone. That’s what happened.” I reached for the car door and got in. He raised his hand as if to call me back, but I ignored him as I drove away.
The smart thing would be to leave this town behind, but I knew my next stop would likely prevent that from happening.
Chapter Thirty-Six
I’d never been to the Drummond property before, but Marco had given me detailed directions. My stop to see Wyatt had made me a few minutes late.
The two-story house had rough stone siding and looked more like an estate than someone’s home. As I parked in the circular drive, I tried to imagine Wyatt and Max growing up here. Neither of them seemed the type to live in such a place.
I approached the front stoop, but a woman greeted me at the front door before I could knock. She looked like she was in her late fifties, and she wrinkled her nose at the sight of me. Then again, I suspected she was the kind of person who always looked like she’d caught wind of a bad smell.
“Mr. Drummond would like you to use the side entrance,” she said, pointing toward the end of the house.
Score one for Bart Drummond. He was sending me to the servants’ entrance to drive home that he considered me trash. Fine. As I headed to the door, I found myself wondering if Louise Baker had approached this same door years ago.
I rapped on the wood and waited nearly a half minute before a younger man in jeans and a T-shirt opened the door. He didn’t look any friendlier than his coworker. “Mr. Drummond’ll see you in his office.”
He led me down a short hall, then stopped at an open door. I entered a large room with walls covered in animal heads. Bart sat behind an oversized desk with wall-to-wall bookcases behind him. To his left was a large window overlooking his land…and also a view of my car.
He’d watched me walk up. What a creeper.
“Hello, Carly. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.” He stood and walked around the edge of his desk. “I had hoped to meet with you last week, but I heard you were under the weather.”
“I’m feeling much better,” I said with a forced smile. “Thank you for asking.”
He grinned at my cheekiness. “I heard you had the flu.” The way he said it made it clear he knew it was a lie.
“Something like that.”
He gestured to a grouping of sofa and chairs opposite the desk.
I sat down in the chair in case he got any ideas about what might happen on that sofa. He sat on the sofa opposite me and crossed his legs, resting his hand on his knee.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I invited you here.”