A Cry in the Dark Page 17

“My car broke down,” I said. “It’s at the auto repair shop here in town.”

“Where are you from?”

I swallowed, trying to hide my nervousness. “Atlanta.”

He narrowed his eyes as he angled his head to one side. “How’d you end up in Drum? It’s not usually a place people just drop in on. Got family around?”

“No. Just supreme bad luck.” Silence hung between us, making it obvious he expected me to fill in more information. “I was driving through while on vacation.”

“Through Drum?” He didn’t try to hide his incredulousness.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. “There’s an overlook that gives you a good view.”

“Oh, I know the place,” he said. “It’s just that no one uses it much since the state moved the road up to Balder Mountain a few years back.”

Why was he questioning my story? Did he really suspect me of something, or was he just covering his bases? “When I checked out of my motel in Gatlinburg yesterday morning, the motel clerk suggested this route. She said it was a more scenic way to Interstate 40.”

“You got to Drum on your way to the interstate coming from Gatlinburg?”

“My GPS didn’t work, detective,” I said with a bit more attitude than I’d intended. “I wandered around for a bit, then broke down at the overlook. I guarantee you that I’m now wishing I hadn’t taken that scenic route.”

He studied me for a long moment, then nodded. “We’ll want to take a more formal statement later today, so we’ll be in touch. There’ll be some follow-up questions too. I’d prefer you don’t leave town until we make sure we’ve gotten everything we need from you.” He handed me a business card. “Since most cell phone carriers don’t work out here, Max says the best way to reach you is here at the tavern.”

I shot a glance to Max, who gave me a reassuring smile.

“Yeah,” I said, facing the detective. “I’ll be working all day today, but I’m not sure about my hours on Wednesday.”

“We’ll make sure you can reach her,” Max said. “No worries there.”

“Sounds good,” the deputy said as he got to his feet and started for the door. He stopped and turned back to Max. “How’s your father?”

Max’s back straightened a fraction of an inch. “He’s good.”

“And your momma?”

“She’s feelin’ mighty fine after her last round of chemo,” he said congenially. “Thanks for askin’.”

The detective nodded. “Glad to hear it. Rumor has it that Bart’s got somethin’ in the works to get Drum back on the map.”

“So I hear,” Max said, shoving his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “He likes to surprise his kids as much as he likes to surprise the town.”

The detective cocked his head to the side. “Rumor also has it that Wyatt’s still out of your parents’ good graces.”

“Oh, you know how the rumor mill works,” Max said with a slow drawl and a cocky grin. “A whole lot of hearsay and such.”

“So he’s not on the outs?”

“Seems like you should be talkin’ to Wyatt and my parents about their relationship, not me.”

The detective studied Max for a moment before nodding. “All righty then. Maybe I will.”

Then he headed out the door without a backward glance.

We were silent for a moment before Ruth jumped off her stool, her fists clenched at her sides like she was spoiling for a fight. “What the Sam Hill was that about?”

Max pushed out an exaggerated sigh and then turned around to face her. “You know Hensen County deputies. They ain’t happy until they’ve harassed the residents of Drum and gotten in a good kick or two.”

“Why was he askin’ you about Wyatt?” Ruth asked. “Does he think Wyatt shot that poor boy?”

“I doubt it,” Max said, walking behind the bar. He grabbed three glasses and set them on the counter. “He’s fishin’, but not for poor Seth’s murderer. He’s bound and determined to take the Drummonds down, and he’s gonna use this excuse to rev up the chainsaw.”

“He needs to let it go,” Ruth said. “The past is in the past.”

“What happened?” I asked, walking over to the counter, directly in front of Max. “Why the bad blood?” Technically, it was none of my business, but I was in the middle of this now. I needed to get my bearings, and it was obvious whatever was up with Detective Daniels had something to do with the Drummonds.

Max reached for a bottle of whiskey from the shelf behind him, then filled each glass with a generous pour. “My family’s past is littered with plenty of not-so-legal ventures, but that ended in my grandparents’ time. Moonshinin’ and such. If we were mixed up with illegal ventures now, I sure as hell wouldn’t be workin’ seven days a week in this hellhole.” After handing out the glasses of whiskey, he lifted his tumbler in a toast. “May the Hensen County Sheriff’s Department’s justice be swift and harsh for the perpetrator of Seth’s death, and when they’re through, may they clear out and leave the rest of us the hell alone.”

He lifted his tumbler even higher and downed the amber liquid.

I gulped mine just as quickly. I could definitely drink to that.

“Should we be worried?” Ruth asked with a frown, only part of her whiskey gone.

“Why would we be worried?” Max asked. “We didn’t do anything wrong. What do we have to hide?”

“What about Wyatt?” she asked. “The deputy seemed mighty interested in him.”

Max frowned, pouring another generous amount into his glass. He picked it up, his lips still pressed together in thought. Finally, he said, “Wyatt’s family, whether he wants to be or not. We’ll bring him back into the fold eventually. Family sticks together.”

What did that mean?

“Do you think Wyatt killed that boy?” I asked, my hand shaking.

Max snorted. “No. Wyatt’s a lot of things, but he’s no murderer.”

“That’s not what the rumor mill says,” Ruth said, her brows raised.

“The rumor mill is a bunch of gossipy old hens and roosters with nothin’ better to do than stir up shit,” Max said in disgust. “That girl left town, plain and simple, and my parents were several thousand dollars lighter after helping speed along her departure.” He winked at me. “But that’s inside information, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go spreadin’ it around.”

This entire conversation was putting me on edge. Why would Max share information with me that he didn’t want the rest of the town to know? Then again, I’d shared a secret with him, so maybe he figured that made us even. Which reminded me that I had questions too… “About that thing I left next to Seth…”

Max finished his drink and poured more for himself and for me. “It wasn’t there.”

This time he slammed the whiskey down even faster.

Whatever was going on had Max on edge, but I had more immediate worries.

My hand tightened around my ridged glass. “Say again?” I was hoping I’d misheard or misunderstood.

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