I snuck a glance at them. “Maybe.”

He took the hose from me. “Why don’t you clean them inside? I’ll finish this up.”

“You don’t have to do that, Wyatt.”

“I know, but I want to.”

I gave him a warm smile. “Thanks.”

Taking Marco’s shoes, I headed back to the car and grabbed my bag. Marco hadn’t moved a muscle, and he didn’t react other than to flinch when I closed the door again. Not good.

I’d only been in Wyatt’s garage once before, and on my first visit, I’d stayed in the waiting area. Just one more reminder that there was so much I didn’t know about him.

Junior was leaning over an engine, but he looked up when I walked through the door.

“Hey, Carly,” he said, but I saw hesitation in his eyes. He thought he’d seen me getting cozy with Marco.

“Wyatt said I could wash off some shoes inside. Where would be the best place to do that?”

He stood up, his gaze shifting pointedly to the larger pair of shoes. He no longer looked quite so friendly.

I didn’t owe Junior an explanation, but I also didn’t want to make an enemy. “I know you think I’m cheating on Wyatt.”

He held up his hand. “It’s none of my business.”

“Clearly it is,” I said, moving closer. “And while Wyatt and I are still trying to figure things out, I’m only hanging out with Marco to look for Lula. She’s missing again.”

“She does that,” he said, his guard still up.

“This time is different. Now, if you could show me where I can clean these up?”

He motioned behind him to a large sink against the wall.

“Thanks.” I walked over, my heels echoing in the concrete space. I could clearly hear the water running outside. No wonder Wyatt had come outside in 3.2 seconds flat.

I turned on the water and tentatively put Marco’s shoe under the stream, picking up a brush from the back ledge of the sink and lightly scrubbing at the mud.

“Why do you think Lula’s leavin’ is different this time?” Junior asked.

“I can’t tell you the specifics,” I said, still facing the sink, “but there were some suspicious things out on her property.” And, because the rest was bound to come out soon anyway, I added, “And now her best friend is missing.”

“Greta?” he asked in surprise.

I turned completely around to face him. “You know that they’re best friends?”

“Ginger is Greta’s cousin. What happened?”

Did Marco know about their connection?

“Marco and I went to talk to Greta this morning at the café, and one of the waitresses told us she hadn’t come in. She hadn’t even called in sick. So Marco and I went out to talk to her sister, and Melody confirmed that she didn’t come home last night.”

Disgust washed over his face. “She’s a piece of work.”

“We gathered that. She didn’t seem to think it was a big deal, even though she admitted she has no idea where Greta could be.”

“Melody only thinks of herself. She’ll be concerned soon enough when Greta’s not there to watch her kids.”

“I’m really worried about her,” I said. “Marco told Melody to report Greta as missing to the sheriff’s department, but he doubts she’ll do it.”

“Mel’s dealin’ pot and meth. She won’t want the sheriff sniffin’ around the trailer.”

“That’s what Marco said. We’re on our way to talk to Mr. Watson and the rest of the staff at the café.” I paused. “How close are Ginger and Greta?”

“Not as close as Ginger would like. Melody has a way of destroyin’ everything in her path, other people’s relationships included.”

“Would Ginger be open to talking to us about Greta?”

“Sure, but I’m not sure how helpful she’ll be.” He paused and shook his head. “So no one’s called the sheriff to report her missin’?”

“Maybe we can convince Mr. Watson to do it,” I said. “I get the impression it’s unusual for her to skip work without calling in.”

“Yeah,” he said absently. “Let me know if he won’t do it. I can have Ginger call, but they aren’t very likely to take it seriously since Ginger only talks to her every other week or so.” His eyes narrowed. “Marco’s with the sheriff’s department. Why doesn’t he file the report?”

“He’s still on medical leave. I’m pretty sure he only agreed to help me because he was bored sitting at home. I think I got him tied up in more than he bargained for.” I turned back to finish scrubbing the shoe.

“Do you want me to call Ginger and let her know you want to talk to her? It would be easier if you dropped by the house since she’s got all the kids.”

I suspected Marco might be done for the day after we visited the café. I’d promised him I wouldn’t investigate without him, but talking to Ginger would be like chatting with an acquaintance. We didn’t know each other well, but she seemed safe. Especially since she was about to start cleaning Hank’s house. “That would be great. I’ll probably come by later this afternoon.”

Once I finished with Marco’s shoes, I moved on to mine. The mud had already started to dry and cake, so I struggled to get them unzipped, but once I had them off and got a good look at them, I wondered if they were ruined after all. I doubted water and a scrub brush could fix this.

Wyatt walked in while I was finishing the second boot, but he only nodded to me and walked into an office with a window overlooking the garage. I suddenly worried why he’d been out there so long. Had he confronted Marco? He wasn’t in any shape to be interrogated.

And then there was the fact that Wyatt had essentially ignored me just now. Had Marco said something to piss him off? Or was this some kind of test? Did he expect me to hunt him down? I was much too tired for games, but I still had to tell Wyatt I wouldn’t need a ride home tonight after all, so I put on my clean shoes and headed toward the office. The door was mostly closed, but I heard him talking in a low voice about a carburetor and belt. The situation suggested he wanted privacy, and with Marco fading fast, I couldn’t wait long. So I headed over to Junior, Marco’s damp shoes hanging from my fingers. I’d stuffed mine into the bag.

“Hey, Junior,” I said. “Will you tell Wyatt thank you for the use of his water?”

Junior smiled, apparently appeased that I wasn’t cuckolding his boss. “Yeah.”

“And also tell him I don’t need a ride home tonight. I’ll explain why later.”

“Sure thing, Carly. I told Ginger you’d drop by to talk to her, and she said she’d be there all day.”

“Thanks, Junior.” I headed out the door, surprised when I saw a large black pickup truck parked several feet away from Marco’s SUV, the front end facing me. A rugged man with dark hair was standing in front of the truck. The crutches were nowhere to be found.

I hurried over to the Explorer and opened the back, although the stranger was standing uncomfortably close. I was relieved to see the crutches when I tossed in my bag and Marco’s shoes. I pulled his clean shoes out of his bag, then took another look at the guy as I closed the hatch.