Her Scream in the Silence (Carly Moore #2) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,20

warm before I backed up. Ruth had already left and waved goodbye on her way out.

“Thank you so much for doin’ this,” Lula said.

“Would you have really walked?” I asked.

“I considered askin’ Max if I could stay at the motel, but I gotta get home to get my car anyway.”

“Anytime you need a ride, you just let me know, okay?” I said. “I don’t mind, Lula. Really.”

“Thanks,” she said, staring out the windshield. I got the impression she was embarrassed.

I started backing up and said, “Okay, where to?”

“Head toward Ewing,” she said.

Once I pulled out of the parking lot, I turned right onto Highway 25, the road that ran through town and connected Drum to Greeneville. After half a minute of silence, I said, “How long have you lived in Drum?”

“Oh,” she said in surprise. “My whole life. I was born in my daddy’s shack.”

“No wonder you have wanderlust,” I said. “Stuck here your whole life. You probably want to see the world.”

“I used to want to,” she said, looking close to tears, “but that’s not why I was gone.”

“Oh?” I said. “Where did you go?”

“I was visiting my momma in prison.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t expected that.

“I don’t like drivin’ that far, so I caught a ride with Dickie to Chattanooga. He arranged for his friend to give me a ride to Nashville.”

“Why on earth didn’t you tell Max and Ruth that?” I asked. “I’m sure they would have understood.”

“The less people know, the better,” she said.

“But you’re telling me.”

She turned to look at me with her wide, innocent eyes. “Because I can tell you’re different.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I’d take it. “Why don’t you want it to get out?”

She pressed her lips together.

“What’s your mother in prison for?” I asked, knowing full well, but I didn’t want her to think I’d been gossiping about her. Besides, part of me was still hoping Jerry might have gotten it wrong.

“For murderin’ my daddy,” she said blankly. “He was drownin’ me in the creek and my momma stopped him.”

I let out an appalled gasp. A genuine one. Even though I’d anticipated her answer, it was horrifying to hear her state the facts so matter-of-factly. “How old were you?”

“Eight. My momma got fifteen years, and she’s about to get out due to good behavior. She says she’s comin’ for me once she gets out and we’re goin’ to Cali-fornia.”

I smiled at the way she pronounced the state. “I hear it’s sunny there.”

But I also remembered what she’d said to the patrons—that she planned on staying for good this time. Had that just been talk? Or did part of her think her mother’s plan would never come to fruition?

“And warm,” she said. “I don’t want my baby sleepin’ in that drafty shack.”

Baby?

I nearly let out a gasp as my gaze dropped to her stomach and then lifted to her face. Was that why Todd Bingham had been watching her all night? Was he the baby’s father?

Horror filled her eyes, and she turned to me, grabbing my arm in desperation. “Please don’t tell anyone. Momma says I have to keep it a secret.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” I assured her. “But why won’t you tell Ruth and Max? I’m sure they’d help you.”

She shook her head. “Momma says not to trust them. Not to trust anyone until she gets home.”

Did her mother know much about them? If she’d gone to prison soon after the incident, Max and Ruth would have been in their teens. Maybe she’d just told Lula not to trust people in general. “They’re gonna find out once you start showing,” I said, then realized this was why she’d worn a baggy shirt. “How far along are you?”

“I dunno,” she admitted. “Momma thinks the baby’s comin’ February or March.”

A quick calculation put her at five or six months pregnant. “Have you been to a doctor, Lula?”

She shook her head.

“Lula, honey, you have to go get checked out. You need to make sure your baby is safe and healthy.”

“Momma said she’ll be home before I have the baby and she’ll help me. Just like the midwife helped her have me.”

I had no intention of letting her go her entire pregnancy without visiting a doctor, but I’d press the issue later.

“Who took care of you after your momma was arrested?”

“I lived with my aunt—my momma’s sister—but she died when I was sixteen. My daddy’s family didn’t want to have anything to do with me. So then it was just me, and I moved back