everything in my power to save her job and help her with the baby.”
Greta gasped and jerked backward, her back slamming into her seat.
Oh crap. “You didn’t know she was pregnant?”
“You did?”
I gave her a sad smile. “She let it slip. I take it she’s five or six months along. Her mother apparently wants her to deliver the baby in that uninsulated shack. Without a midwife or any medical supervision. I knew I couldn’t change her mind, at least not during the drive to her house, but I did get her to agree to take prenatal vitamins if I got them in Greenville this morning.”
Greta watched me for a few seconds. “I should have thought of the prenatal vitamins.”
“My friend is pregnant. She was kind of beside herself when she found out she was two months pregnant and hadn’t taken any. I guess it really stuck in my subconscious.”
Greta relaxed a little. “I told Lula that her mother’s crazy. She needs a doctor, but she won’t listen.”
“How long have you known?”
“Not long,” she reluctantly admitted. “She told me in October, a few weeks before she took off last time. Honestly, I don’t think she’d known that long herself. Her periods have always been irregular. In fact, she thought she couldn’t get pregnant, so she’s never been too careful.”
“That’s why she’s not sure about the due date?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Did she tell you who the father was?”
Her eyes hardened. “How is that any of your business?”
“Because the father could be unhappy he’s about to be a daddy. Maybe he’s the one who carted her off.”
“The father doesn’t know.”
“But you know who the father is?”
She inhaled a deep breath and slowly pushed it out. I could tell she was buying herself a few seconds to consider her response. “I don’t feel comfortable telling you anything else.”
I resisted the urge to groan. While she’d shared helpful information, none of it would help me find Lula.
“I know you don’t trust me,” I said. “And I understand why—truly, I do. But Marco and I are the only ones who think she didn’t leave on her own, which means the sheriff’s department won’t look into it, and Max will never give me time off to search. I only have tomorrow to look for her, from morning until early evening, so the more I know, the better my chances.”
“Marco doesn’t think she ran off?”
“No, which is why he’s helping me.”
Her frown deepened. “If Marco’s involved, I can’t tell you anything.”
“Was she doing something illegal, or was she associatin’ with people who wouldn’t like a deputy sniffing around?”
“Both.”
I sat back, pressing my lips together as I thought her predicament through. “Marco assures me he’s just looking as a friend. He’s still on medical leave, so this isn’t official.”
She snorted. “What else would you expect a cop to say? It’s unofficial until he finds something good.”
She had a point.
“Marco protected her,” I said, still hoping to convince her. “A few months ago. She stayed with him after an ugly breakup. Why would he have given her a place to stay if he was so interested in busting her?”
Her frown deepened.
“Especially when it likely put him on Todd Bingham’s bad side.”
Her jaw dropped like a trapdoor, but she quickly recovered, jerking her gaze around the room.
“Who told you she was seein’ him?” she whisper-shouted as she leaned forward.
“Bingham himself.”
Her face paled.
“So Bingham’s the father?”
Leaning an elbow on the table, she covered her mouth with her fingers. I could tell she was frantically sifting through her options. She landed on belligerence. “I don’t believe you. Bingham doesn’t talk about his personal business with anyone, let alone an outsider.”
She had a point, and now that I thought about it, I had to wonder why he’d been so open. Had I caught him by surprise? That seemed highly unlikely. Todd Bingham hadn’t gotten where he was today by being sloppy.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” I said. “I knew she was scared of him last night, and now she’s missing. He seemed to be a likely suspect, so I paid him a visit.”
She shook her head in disgust. “You’re either reckless or a fool, and neither option is good.”
I suspected I was both.
“Greta, yer order’s up,” a man called from the back.
Greta slid out of the booth as quickly as if a zombie were trying to bite her on the butt. I reluctantly followed her, and she grabbed the bag from the server’s ledge and thrust it at me. “That’ll be $14.60.”
Reaching