“Don’t you want to talk about the mystery man?”

“We can talk about him over breakfast. I want to hear what happened with Max.”

So I told him about Greta getting scared at the end of our chat, plus how I’d arranged for Max to walk her to her car.

“So she gave him the brush-off and he blamed you?”

“No. That wasn’t what ticked him off, but he added my interference to his list of grievances.” I took a breath. “He was mostly pissed because I went over to investigate after I saw one of his father’s business associates leaving the Alpine Inn.”

“You did what?” he asked. “What in the world possessed you to do that?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him the real reason. Wyatt refused to let me in, and I was trying to get dirt on Bart Drummond. But I doubted that explanation would fly with Marco. “He and Bart had lunch at the tavern a few days ago, and he was a real jerk. I guess I was just being nosy.”

“Bart was at the tavern?” he asked in surprise.

“Yeah. I heard it was unusual.”

“I doubt he’s been there more than a handful of times in the past few years. Who was this guy?”

“He’s from Nashville. I have no idea why he was here or what their business was about.”

His brow furrowed. “Now I know why Max was pissed. You scared the shit out of him.”

“Why?”

“Carly, Bart Drummond is not a man to trifle with.”

“You sound like you’re talking about Todd Bingham.”

“Don’t play stupid,” he said. “You know Bart is his own brand of dangerous. Diggin’ into his business is no better than diggin’ into Bingham’s. It might even be worse.”

“Then why don’t you do something about it, Marco? Aren’t you a deputy sheriff?” I couldn’t help my accusatory tone.

My accusation rolled off Marco like water off a duck’s back. “Because Bart Drummond has lined so many pockets at so many levels that it would be pointless to arrest him. The DA would never prosecute. And if the DA did decide to press charges, there’s every chance he’d get a judge who was beholden to him too.”

“So Bart Drummond has enough money to get away with whatever he wants,” I said in disgust.

“No,” he said slowly. “Not money per se. The Drummonds used to be a lot richer when Max and I were kids. But he holds power. Influence. So while his bank account is a lot lighter than it used to be, he’s still in control. He’s the master of favors. He’ll do a favor for you, and at some point, he’ll ask you to do a favor for him. You wouldn’t believe the number of people we’ve arrested who were doin’ Bart Drummond’s dirty work. They take the fall, then refuse to name him, which lets him get away with murder. Sometimes literally.”

That hit close to home. Carson Purdy had been Bart’s right-hand man. Was this proof he’d been working on his behalf after all? If so, Bart had told Carson to kill me. But Carson had almost killed Wyatt as well. Had it been on Bart’s orders?

“Why wouldn’t they rat him out?” I asked.

“Fear. Rumor has it that he has secrets on just about everyone in town.”

A cold sweat broke out on my neck. If he ever found out my secret, I was in big trouble. “So if y’all know what he’s doing, why isn’t anyone tryin’ to stop it?”

“No one’s foolish enough to attempt it. And the sheriff is stinkier than a three-day-old sock.” When he saw I wasn’t appeased, he said, “Look, even if the system weren’t rigged in Bart’s favor, he’s got all these stooges doin’ his dirty work. And without them testifyin’, there’s no proof.”

“You make it seem so hopeless,” I said. “You’re a sheriff deputy, Marco. You’re supposed to want to right wrongs and get the bad guys.”

“And I do, Carly, trust me. Don’t think Bart hasn’t tried to buy my support. It takes some fancy sidestepping on my part to stay out of his clutches, although I’m sure Max has played some part in that as well.”

Max. My heart ached knowing he was upset with me. While I didn’t want to lose my job, it hurt more to think I may have lost a friend. “I know Wyatt has broken away from his father, but I’m not sure where Max stands. I know he runs the inn for Bart, but what else is he involved in?”

Marco had told me they were amicable, but that didn’t tell me anything about their business dealings.

“Honestly, Carly, I don’t know. It’s one of those don’t ask, don’t tell situations. The less I know, the better.”

“When I knocked on the motel door last night, a woman answered. I’m pretty sure she was a…” I struggled to come up with a word that didn’t sound demeaning.

“A prostitute,” he said bluntly.

I grimaced. “Yeah.” I took a breath and steeled my back. “I know Bart owns the inn and Max manages it. Does one of them run a prostitution ring out of it?”

“Jesus, Carly,” he blurted out. “Did you ask Max that?”

My cheeks flushed. “No, but he knows I was snoopin’. Hank said he thinks Bingham operates a prostitution ring. Would he dare to run it out of Alpine Inn?”

And what did it mean if Neil Carpenter had paid a visit to one of Bingham’s working girls?

Marco cursed under his breath. “I have no idea what goes on in that motel, and I want to keep it that way.”

“Which means you’re protecting Bart.”

“No,” he said with a groan. “It means I’m stayin’ out of my best friend’s business.”

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of your job?” I asked with plenty of snark.

He swiveled his head to take a long look at me before turning back to the road. “It must be nice livin’ in an ivory tower.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I asked.

“In case you haven’t noticed, things are different here in Drum. There’s not such a clear delineation between black and white, good and bad. For fuck’s sake, you’re livin’ with a man who ran the biggest marijuana empire in East Tennessee. Who are you to judge?”

My mouth dropped open in shock.

“Come on,” he said in a gruff tone. “You had to know.”

“I knew he was a drug dealer before Bingham took over.”

“He wasn’t just a drug dealer, Carly. He was a major distributor, and he owned his own share of deputies back in the day. Bingham just took it to the next level.” He cast me a wry look. “Allegedly.”

I sighed. Marco was right. Hank wasn’t a perfect man, yet I struggled to see him as a hardened criminal. But he’d killed a man to defend me, and now Marco was telling me he used to have deputies in his pocket. He’d been more than a two-bit player.

“Hank and Bingham are beside the point,” he said, “although I still say you’re far too nonchalant about Bingham. My point is that you do not want to poke the bear known as Bart Drummond. Which is likely why Max freaked out on you. He likes you and wants to make sure you stay safe. He proved that after you found Seth in the parking lot.”