Her Scream in the Silence (Carly Moore #2) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,98
don’t want it to be all about me, Wyatt. I want it to be about you too, but you won’t let me in!” I released a pent-up groan of frustration. “Go see Max, but don’t come back until you’re actually willing to talk, because I’m tired of playing this stupid game.”
I brushed past him and raced up the porch steps, then went inside and slammed the door behind me.
Hank stared up at me from his recliner, his mouth open, but I didn’t give him an explanation, just stomped into my room and paced and stewed for a good ten minutes. When I finally settled down, I took a deep breath and headed out to the kitchen.
“I’ll start heating up your dinner,” I said as I walked through the living room. An old movie was playing on the television.
I poured a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge and stared out the window while I sipped it.
I had to leave Drum.
I’d lost my job. I’d broken up with Wyatt, and I suspected Bart knew who I was. I’d be stupid to stay, but the thought of leaving Hank broke my heart.
And that was what finally broke me.
I started to cry.
“Carly, come out here and tell me what’s goin’ on,” Hank called out.
I had to tell him sometime, so I might as well do it while I was already upset.
Carrying my glass of water, I went out to the living room and sat down on the sofa next to the recliner.
“Why aren’t you at work?” he asked.
“Max fired me.”
“What?” he asked with a mixture of disbelief and anger. “Why?”
“He’s upset that I’m looking for Lula.”
“Were you usin’ work time to look for her?”
I blinked in surprise. “No.”
“Then those aren’t grounds to fire you. Why doesn’t he want you to find her?”
I released a short laugh. “You really know how to cut through the bullshit.”
He lifted his shoulders into a shrug and waited for my answer.
“I think he either knows something about why she’s gone or had something to do with it. In fact, he was drunk off his ass this morning when Marco went by to talk to him, and we had to call Tiny to close the tavern.”
“So you’re really not workin’ because the bar is closed.”
“No,” I said. “He fired me.”
“While he was drunk. What are the chances he’ll remember?”
“I’d say pretty good considering Wyatt stopped by to see why he was closed, and Max told him he’d fired me.”
He pursed his lips. “What happened with you and Wyatt out there?”
“Same old shit, and shame on me for still fallin’ for it.” I set the water glass on the coffee table. “Hank, I need to ask you some more questions about Lula’s parents.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “What does that matter now?”
I sighed and sat back. “I don’t know, but I have this gut feeling it does.” I crossed my legs on the sofa. “I ran into Emily and Bart Drummond in Ewing this afternoon. Emily mentioned that Louise came to their house right before she shot her husband. She was there to see Bart.”
He turned his attention to the television.
“But Emily said Louise also mentioned your name.” I took a long look at his profile. “Walter Baker was working for you, wasn’t he?” Thelma had sure thought so, anyway.
He released a snort. “Whoever told you that? That man was too stupid to tie his own shoelaces.”
His reaction was so unrehearsed that I had to believe Thelma had gotten it wrong.
“Why did you look so surprised when I told you Louise was getting out of jail?”
“Because I hadn’t thought of her in years,” he said, shifting his gaze back to me. “Hearing you mention her name caught me off guard.”
“I know you have a past, Hank. I learned that when we invited Bingham to take that dead body away.”
“He wasn’t the first man I killed, girlie, and I doubt he’ll be the last.”
I wasn’t surprised by the first part of his statement, but I wasn’t prepared for the rest of it. “Who else do you plan on killing?”
His gaze darkened. “Whoever shows up lookin’ for you.”
A cold chill washed through my body. “What makes you think someone’s going to come looking for me?”
“I know you’re runnin’ from someone, and I’m prepared to deal with ’em when they darken my door.”
A lump filled my throat. “You don’t even know what or who I’m runnin’ from.”
“I don’t need to know,” he said in a gruff voice. “You’re kin, and kin