Her Scream in the Silence (Carly Moore #2) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,99
sticks together.”
The irony of his statement brought a round of fresh tears.
He looked dismayed. “I didn’t mean to make you cry again.”
How had I been lucky enough to find this man? Then again, it was his grandson’s death that had brought us together, and that hadn’t been good luck for anyone. “Not all kin sticks together, Hank. I’m running from my father.”
His cheeks turned red. “Your daddy? Why?”
“It’s a long story, but I’ll tell you this much: in August, I found out he’s part of a crime syndicate in Dallas, and I took off and went into hiding. He needs me back to protect his share, and he’ll do anything to get me. A few weeks ago, he offered a five-hundred-thousand-dollar reward for my ‘safe’ return, but I know I won’t be alive for long after he gets me back.”
“Did you see something you weren’t supposed to?”
“It’s complicated,” I said with a sigh. “But yeah. That’s part of it. I also found out that he’s not my biological father. He found out when I was a kid and had my mother killed.”
“You’re thinkin’ about runnin’ again.”
I locked eyes with him. “I lost my job. It will be awkward dealing with Wyatt, and I think Bart Drummond has figured out my secret.”
He sucked in a breath. “The first two don’t matter as they seem to at the moment,” he said. “It’s Old Man Drummond we need to worry about.”
“I’ll have to leave. I won’t have a choice,” I said, my voice thick with emotion.
“Not necessarily, girlie. Not necessarily. What makes you think Bart Drummond knows?”
I told Hank what Bart had said in the pharmacy and about his invitation to come to his house next week.
“He’s not gonna pull anything before he meets with ya,” Hank said, “but I suspect you’re right. He knows something. Maybe we’d do best to see what he has to say, then go from there.”
“You don’t think I should run?”
His lips pursed. “Sometimes it’s better to fight the devil you know, and I know Bart Drummond. Bart’s ruled the roost around here for far too long. It’s about time for someone to stand up to him. Besides, I ain’t ready to give you up yet.”
I smiled, but he was blurry through my tears. “Thank you, Hank.”
I slid off the sofa and knelt next to his chair and hugged him. It occurred to me that maybe Wyatt wasn’t the only one who wanted to knock Bart off his throne. There might be others in this town who would help me.
He was stiff at first then softened, wrapping his arms around me and patting my back. “There, there, girlie. You’re my kin now. I’ll take care of ya, one way or the other.”
I pulled back to look into his face, wondering what that meant.
He must have understood because he gave me a tight smile and said, “If I think you need to run, I’ll tell you. I’m selfish enough to want you to stay, but care about you enough to tell you to go if I think it’s safer.”
“Thank you, Hank. I really like living with you.”
The phone began to ring, and I glanced into the kitchen.
“You better get that,” he said.
But what if it was Wyatt? I decided the chances of that were slim. He’d taken off like a bee had bitten his bottom. He was on some secret mission or other, and I was probably far from his thoughts.
I got up and reached it by the fourth ring. “Hello?”
“You need to get your ass in to work,” Ruth said in a snippy tone. “I’m opening in a half hour.”
“I can’t, Ruth. Max fired me.”
“Too damn bad for Max. I’m the manager, and I overrule him. Get your ass in here.” Then she hung up.
Replacing the phone on the hook, I said, “I guess I’m going to work.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Max’s was already open when I pulled into the parking lot in back. Tiny was in the kitchen, and I stopped in the doorway as I tied my apron. “What’s going on, Tiny?”
He stood in front of the grill and shot a look over his shoulder. “Ruth went on a warpath when she found out we were closed. She didn’t want to miss out on Saturday night profits.”
“Where’s Max?”
“Wyatt was upstairs with him when I showed up, and they left soon after.”
“Both of them?” I asked in surprise.
“Yep. Got the impression Max wouldn’t be back tonight.”
“Where’s Sugar?” It was Saturday night. We were bound to be busy.