“Secrets are like currency in Drum,” he’d said. “You’re sellin’ pieces of yourself when you share them. Be careful who you sell ’em to.”

Hank only knew me as the woman who’d held his dying grandson’s hand and then had the tenacity to track down his killers since the sheriff’s department wasn’t to be trusted. “I’ve been with men who held secrets from me, and those secrets nearly got me killed. He knows this, yet he still refuses to trust me.” I shook my head. “I’m done playin’ the fool. I’m done beggin’ and pleadin’ with him. I’m just done.”

He limped over and placed a hand on my shoulder. “It’s never a good idea to make a decision when you’re tired and upset. You need to sleep on it.”

I nodded, but I knew I wasn’t going to change my mind. Unless Wyatt came clean—with all of it—we were done.

Chapter Seven

We got an early start the next morning. I was worried about the road conditions, but most of the snow had melted, leaving behind only a few slippery patches. Hank’s appointment was at ten, and the appointment went well, although Hank seemed resistant to the doctor’s suggestion that he get an artificial leg.

“I ain’t got the money for somethin’ like that,” Hank said after we left the office an hour later and got into the car.

“You’re on Medicare, Hank. Surely they’ll pay for part of it. At least find out how much it would cost you out of pocket before you decide against it.”

“If I get a fake leg, I’ll have to come down here to Greeneville several times a week,” he said, refusing to look at me. “It’s too much trouble.”

“You know I’ll bring you.”

“I ain’t gonna ask you to do that,” he scoffed. “You’re working at the tavern most days.”

“Not anymore,” I said. “Lula came back.”

He turned to me in surprise. “You lost your job?”

“No, Max wants me to keep working part-time.”

He frowned. “And you’re just now tellin’ me this?”

“It doesn’t matter. Max thinks Lula will take off sooner rather than later,” I said with hesitation.

“Sounds like you disagree with that.”

“I took her home last night. That’s why I was late getting back. Sounds like she’s not planning on going anywhere, at least not until her mother gets out of prison this spring.”

“Louise is gettin’ out?” he asked, sitting up in his seat.

I shot him a glance. “You know her?”

“I know most people in this town. The good and the bad.”

“Are you saying Lula’s mother is a bad person?”

He made a sour face. “She killed her husband.”

“Because he was drowning Lula.”

He snorted. “Is that what you heard?”

“Yeah, from Jerry and from Lula herself. Jerry said Lula’s mother had to do CPR on her until the ambulance arrived.” I turned to him with narrowed eyes. “Are you saying it didn’t happen that way?”

“I’m saying I’m sure there’s more to the story than most people know. Now take me to Popeyes Chicken for lunch. I’m starvin’.”

“Popeyes isn’t good for your diabetes, Hank.”

“If I can’t have fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and biscuits, then life ain’t worth livin’.”

He had a point. I loved those things too, and I supposed everything was okay in moderation, so I headed to Popeyes. We sat inside and ate more greasy food than either of us had a right to. I tried to get him to tell me more about Lula and her parents, but he just gave me a pointed look and said, “The past is better left where it belongs. You of all people know that.”

The way he said it made me think he knew more about me than he let on, but then he quickly changed the subject by complaining about the temperature in the doctor’s waiting room.

When we finished eating, we headed to Target. Hank sat in the Starbucks seating area while I shopped for some warmer clothes, a coat for Jerry (I decided he deserved a new one for what he’d done), socks and new underwear for Hank (his were so old and ratty, I planned on throwing them away as soon as we got home), some toiletries for both of us, and a box of hair dye to cover my blonde roots. Ruth had asked me to pick up a few items for her, so I got those as well as Lula’s vitamins. After I checked out—cringing at the total—I found Hank in his chair, dozing against the window.

It made me consider giving up my grocery store stop, but fresh fruits and vegetables were hard to find in Drum, and Hank’s next appointment wasn’t for another two weeks. So Hank stayed in the car and napped some more while I shopped, which I decided was a good thing. I’d been sneaking increasingly healthier food into his diet, and I didn’t want him figuring it out during my shopping excursion.

By the time I finished, it was around one thirty, and since Hank refused to let me take him to get his hair cut, saying he was good for another month (I figured I’d try my hand at giving him a haircut later at home), I decided to head back to Drum. It hit me that I’d have to go without cell phone service for a couple of weeks before Hank and I came back to Greeneville, so I made a quick check of my burner phone to see if I’d gotten any texts or calls since I’d last checked it a few hours earlier. I felt a little silly for checking again. My friends in Henryetta knew it was too dangerous to get in touch with me, and vice versa, unless something major happened. Hearing nothing was actually the better scenario, or so I told myself. Truth was, I missed them. But I had a new life, a new home, and I had to accept that.

While there was nothing from Arkansas, there was a call and a message from Max’s Tavern, which caught me off guard. I had no idea why Max would be calling me on my day off. I expected to hear his voice in the voicemail, but it was Ruth who said, “What a surprise…Lula didn’t show today. I told Max she’s done. I know you’re in Greeneville, but in case you were makin’ plans around your new part-time schedule, cancel ’em.”

I stared down at my phone to check the time of the call. 1:05. Max must have called Ruth in to cover the lunch shift, but where was Lula?

I called the tavern as I pulled out of the parking lot.

“Have you heard from Lula?” I blurted out as soon as Max answered.

“Well, hello to you too,” he grumped. “And no. Haven’t heard a word, but that’s typical Lula behavior.”

“Have you called her?” I asked. “What if she had car trouble?”

“She hasn’t got a phone,” he said. “And Ruth doesn’t want to hear a single excuse. Lula took off again after she swore she was stickin’ around this time.” I could hear the disappointment in his voice.

“I don’t think she took off, Max,” I said. “Last night she told me she really needs to keep her job until her mother gets released from prison next spring.” Lula hadn’t wanted Max to know, but I figured she’d be all right with me telling him if it meant I could help her keep her job. Besides, I was genuinely worried that she hadn’t shown up for her shift, and I needed Max to take my concerns seriously.