Her Scream in the Silence: Carly Moore #2

by Denise Grover Swank

  I knocked on the door and waited, peering around for any sign of Lula. Nothing popped out, not that I’d really expected it to be so easy. Bingham might feel safe and secluded out here, but he wasn’t stupid enough to chain her to his front porch.

  The door opened and Bingham filled the doorway. I’d somehow forgotten how big he was, or maybe he only seemed bigger because I wasn’t in a safe zone.

  He held a beer can in his hand and wore a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that read, The South Lives.

  “Well, well, well,” he smirked. “This is quite the surprise. What brings you to darken my doorstep, Ms. Moore?” He said my name in a snide tone.

  “I want to scrap my old car, and I want to know how much you’ll give me for it.”

  He nodded to Marco’s SUV, which was parked perpendicular to the house. “You needed a sheriff deputy escort for that?”

  So he’d recognized Marco. I’d been counting on it. “Marco and I were takin’ a nice drive so he could get out of the house, and when he mentioned you lived down this way, I suggested we stop.”

  He laughed. “Is that so?” Leaning his shoulder into the doorframe, he said, “I already offered to buy your car, but your boyfriend said no.”

  “What?” This was the first I’d heard of it—the first I’d even heard of Wyatt talking to Bingham—and I couldn’t hide my shock.

  His brows shot up. “He didn’t tell you, huh? I’m surprised—not about his refusal to sell it to me. He’s never sold me nothin’ since he bought that business. But I am surprised he didn’t tell you that I’d offered. I took it that you two had a more modern relationship.”

  The last thing I intended to do was discuss my relationship—or lack thereof—with Wyatt. “Wyatt Drummond doesn’t run my life or the fate of my car. I’m ready to be done with it, so I want to work out an arrangement.” I peered past him into his living room, which was full of faded, vintage-style furniture. “You gonna invite me in to discuss it?”

  His eyes narrowed. “You know, this has the look and feel of entrapment all over it. Have you become a deputy sheriff, Carly Moore?”

  I puffed out my chest and lifted my chin as I propped my hands on my hips. “Got something to hide, Todd Bingham?”

  He started laughing. “I never know what’s gonna come out of that smart mouth of yours.” The laughter faded, and his mouth settled into a harsh line. “But the answer is no. I never conduct business in my house. We can do this out here because it will be short and sweet. I can offer you a thousand dollars.”

  I shook my head. “Nope. Not enough. I need a new car, so I need more money than that.”

  “Sounds like a personal problem, sweetheart. Not mine. Take it or leave it.”

  “Fine,” I said, dropping my arms. “I’ll leave it.”

  I turned to walk toward the steps, but he called out good-naturedly, “Well now, hold on there.”

  I paused and half-turned back to him. “You ready to stop insultin’ me?”

  He chuckled. “I’ve got a business to run here. Can’t blame a man for lowballin’. Name a price.”

  The problem was I hadn’t looked up the value of my car because I’d trusted Wyatt to handle it. Whenever I’d brought up my car, he’d told me there was no hurry and he was looking into finding a buyer. Why hadn’t he told me that Bingham had made an offer? It might be a wreck on wheels, but I was the one who got to decide what to do with it, not him. His silence on the matter only reinforced the fact that I could rely on only one person—me.

  I decided to shoot high and negotiate to the middle. “Six thousand.”

  With a sly grin, he shook his head. “I never took you for a dreamer, Ms. Moore.”

  I was surprised he was following the rules of etiquette I’d set up the night before. But Marco was right—Todd Bingham was wicked smart, and I knew he was playing some long game…but what was his prize?

  “I’m just a woman who needs to replace her car.”

  “That hunk of junk ain’t worth six grand. Try again.”

  “Five.”

  Rolling his eyes, he moved closer and leaned his shoulder against one of the posts on the porch, crossing his arms. “It’s obvious you didn’t do any homework on what your car’s worth, so why are you really here?”

  Shit. I wasn’t about to play my Lula hand yet, so I pulled out the only other card I had, as much as it killed me to tell this man anything about my personal life. “Because I’m no longer with Wyatt Drummond. I’m using Hank’s car, which doesn’t feel entirely right, so I want to get a new one, which means I need money from the old one. Considering it’s not exactly easy to do internet research in this town, and I’m not speakin’ to the one person who might have that information, I decided to come to the source and muddle my way through.”

  His eyes brightened with interest, but not because he looked like he wanted to ask for a place on my dance card, more in a this is information I need kind of way. “Well now, if that’s the case, I think I might be able to help you out.”

  “Which case is that?” I asked, partially afraid of the answer.

  “Wyatt Drummond is no friend of mine, and if you left him, I’ll be more than happy to help you.”

  So many questions sprang to life…which one did I pick? Curiosity got the best of me.

  “What makes you think I broke up with him?” I asked in a sassy tone.

  He chuckled, his laugh this time sounding slightly genuine. “Hell, anyone can see he’s crazy about you. There’s no way he broke up with you.”

  “I never struck you as a romantic, Mr. Bingham.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Not a romantic. An observer. I didn’t get to where I am by bein’ passive like my lazy-ass father. I paid attention to my surroundings. I took advantage of opportunities others missed because they weren’t payin’ attention.”

  “And you built this empire,” I said, gesturing toward the junkyard.

  Tilting his head to the side, he regarded me with cold eyes. “You lookin’ down your pretty little nose at me and what I built, Ms. Moore?”

  “Not at all,” I said. “Despite your humble abode, I suspect you’re quite a wealthy man. You just know the value of a dollar. I heard you inherited this from your father and built it into what it is now.”

  “You’ve been askin’ around about me? I’m not sure whether to be flattered or insulted.” The tone in his voice insinuated he’d already chosen the latter.

  “You’re a powerful man, Mr. Bingham. You proved that after Seth died. The sheriff’s department didn’t seek justice for that boy’s murder. You and I did.” Sadly, it was a true statement, although Bingham hadn’t been in it for altruistic reasons. “You and I both know that while everyone thinks Bart Drummond is runnin’ the town, including the man himself, you’ve been yankin’ it out from under him.”

  His eyes narrowed as though he was trying to figure out my endgame. I had a point, but I’d taken a meandering path to get there.

  “And what’s your point?”

  “You said you study people…well, the same is true of me. I see you buildin’ this empire, and I have to wonder what your motivation is. People do things for a reason.”

  His body stiffened, and I knew I was now treading on dangerous ground.

  “And what do you think motivates me?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t know enough about you, but I wouldn’t say it’s to pass your empire down to your son or daughter since you don’t seem to have one.”

  “So you have been askin’ about me?”

  It was a lucky guess that had thankfully struck home. “I think it’s good to learn everything I can about the important people around me.” I shifted my weight. “So does that factor into your plans for the future?”

  “Kids?” He couldn’t have observed me any closer if he’d had a microscope.

  “Why are you askin’ if I want kids?” Then his eyes lit up. “You just broke up with Wyatt Drummond, the son of a powerful man, and now y
ou’re sniffin’ around here askin’ if I want kids?” His arms dropped to his sides. “Got a thing for bad boys, Ms. Moore?”

  “What?” I asked in shock. “No, you fool.”

  “You came in here talking about the two of us workin’ together as a team and me being such a powerful man. Everything you’ve said suggests you’re interested in me, and you decided to make the first move.”

  Oh. God. “No,” I said as calmly as possible in case he took my horrified reaction the wrong way. “That is not it.” Dammit. I needed to cut to the chase. “Why were you watching Lula like a hawk last night?”

  The confusion on his face was almost laughable. “What?”

  “You were watching her, and she was nervous as all get-out. Why?”

  His confusion quickly faded to anger. “That’s none of your damn business.”

  “It is given she’s missing, and she was scared to death of you.”

  Surprise flickered in his eyes. “Lula took off again.” As was usually the case with Bingham, anger quickly took center stage. “Damn that bitch.”

  “You didn’t have anything to do with her disappearance?”

  “What?” he practically shouted. “Hell, no. That girl takes off at the drop of a dime, only she left town quicker than usual this time.” He shook his head and released a string of curses.

  “Sounds like she has something you want,” I said.

  He had turned away from me a little, as if he didn’t want me to see his face, but he swiveled his head to look at me. “Why the interest in Lula? From what I heard, you just met her yesterday.”

  “Let’s just say we hit it off, and I feel the need to protect her.”

  “From me,” he said dryly.

  “From anyone who aims to hurt her.”

  “Sounds like she took care of that on her own by takin’ off again,” Bingham said.

  “No,” I said. “I’m sure she was taken. I don’t believe she went willingly.”

  “And where’s your proof?” he asked.

  That was it. I didn’t really have any. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that someone had dropped by, asked her if she wanted a ride somewhere, and taken her of her own free will. But that didn’t seem to fit with the talk we’d had last night. “That’s not for you to worry about.”

  He smirked, and it was obvious he didn’t think I had any. “Why don’t you get the sheriff involved?” He gestured to Marco’s SUV. “And I’m not talkin’ about your off-duty escort there.”

  Marco had his gaze pinned on the both of us.

  “Because you and I both know they won’t do a damn thing about it.”

  “That’s because there’s nothin’ to be done,” he said. “She ran off. End of story.”

  “Why is she scared of you?”

  “Hell if I know,” he said with a shrug. “I treated her damn fine when we were together, but then her mother found out and told her to end it. So she did.”

  So their tryst hadn’t been a one-time thing. I wasn’t surprised to hear her mother had influenced her to end it. It sounded like she ran Lula’s life from behind bars. “Do you know how often Lula goes to see her?”

  “Her mother? Never. She kept in touch with letters and the occasional phone call she accepted at Max’s.”

  Obviously Lula hadn’t shared much with Bingham, making me wonder how close they actually were. “How long were you together?”

  “What is this, twenty questions?” he asked, sounding irritated, but I could see a hint of concern in his eyes. “Three months, but it was on-again, off-again the entire time. We broke up this summer. I wanted to keep it quiet and Lula had no problem with it.”

  “Why’d you keep it a secret?” I asked.

  “To protect her. I already knew that people looked down on her, and this would only add fuel to the fire. Besides, it was nothin’ serious.” But the look on his face suggested otherwise.

  Once again, I found myself thinking about Rose. Her relationship with Skeeter Malcolm had been a carefully kept secret. I suspected Skeeter cared about Rose more than he let on too, and he’d made dangerous choices because of it. “Did you take the breakup well?”

  “Hell no, I didn’t. It was a stupid-ass reason, but I couldn’t force her to be with me, now could I? So I had to accept it.”

  But did he? It sounded like his father’s way of treating women was to abuse them into doing whatever he wanted. What if the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree?

  “So why was she anxious around you last night?” I asked again.

  “Hell if I know,” he barked. “You should have asked her.”

  “I did and she refused to tell me. She only told me not to piss you off because you kill people or make them disappear.”

  The sly Todd Bingham I knew slipped back into place, and he gave me a lopsided grin. “Well, you know that firsthand, now don’t you, Ms. Moore? Seems to me I helped you and Hank make someone disappear as a favor.”

  “Seems to me that Hank did you the favor,” I said, risking a glance at Marco to see if he’d heard. If he had, he wasn’t reacting. Bingham had disposed of the body of the intruder Hank had shot, but he’d benefited from the situation too. He’d wanted to know which of his men had turned traitor. Turned out the man who’d helped kill Seth and tried to kill me was one of his guys.

  “I don’t know why Lula was afraid of me,” he said in a low, rumbling tone that let me know he’d about reached his limit. “I only know I treated that woman like a queen when we were together, and she ended it for a bullshit reason. Did I treat her like peaches and cream after? No, but I wasn’t going to make her disappear, if that’s what you’re insinuating.” He took a step closer, puffing out his chest. “Now I think it’s time for you to leave.”

  I stared up at him. “I’m going to find out what happened to her.”

  “Good luck with that,” he said. “If she already left, she might not be comin’ back this time.” Then he turned his back on me and walked through the door.

  Chapter Eleven

  When I got back in Marco’s SUV, he didn’t waste any time pulling away from Bingham’s house.

  “The fact you’re still alive is a good sign,” Marco said, flying down the long driveway. “Unless he’s comin’ for you later.”

  I rolled my eyes. “He’s not comin’ for me later.”

  “Did you really ask him to buy your car?”

  “I did, and we were workin’ out a deal before we got sidetracked…dammit.” I really had wanted to sell him my car.

  “Well, I’m sure as hell not goin’ back, so you’re shit out of luck.” He shot me a glance. “Did you find out anything?”

  “He admitted that he and Lula had a thing that lasted about three months. Lula’s mother made her break up with him. He said that he wanted to keep their relationship quiet.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Ruth apparently didn’t even know about it. You didn’t tell her or Max?”

  “Hell, no. I’m no gossip. The only reason I’m tellin’ you now is because it might play into her takin’ off.” He hesitated, then said, “But there’s more.”

  I shifted in the seat to get a better look at him.

  When he was sure he had my attention, he said, “Lula seemed off a few weeks after I saw her and Bingham. I could see something was eatin’ at her, so I started askin’ questions. She confessed she had broken up with someone and was worried about his reaction. I wondered if it was Bingham, but she didn’t volunteer, and I didn’t ask. I told her she could hang out at my place for a few nights, and she looked relieved.”

  Lula had broken up with Bingham about six months ago, and she’d spent several nights with Marco, which meant…

  “Marco,” I said in a tight voice. “Did you sleep with her?”

  “You’re seriously askin’ me that question?” he asked, sounding offended.

  “I’m not judging, but your answer is important.”

  “I still don’t see what business it is of yours.”

  �
��What’s the big deal? You’ve admitted to having multiple partners,” I said.

  “Just because I’ve slept with more than a handful of women doesn’t mean I’m gonna go posting their names on social media.”

  “I’m not asking for a roster, Marco, and it’s not like I’m going to tell Bingham, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “Why is it so important to know if I slept with her last summer?” he asked, growing irritated.

  “It just is, Marco,” I said, torn between my promise to Lula and the need to know if he was a potential father to her baby.

  He shot me another look, and then his eyes widened slightly. “Wait. You know something. What aren’t you tellin’ me?”

  I countered his question with my own. “Will you help me find her?”

  “Do you have any more leads?” he asked in frustration. “Because this seemed to be our only one. Unless you tell me what you’re holdin’ back.”

  “You have to swear you won’t tell another soul.”

  “Okay.”

  “No, you have to swear it, Marco.”

  “Okay, I swear.”

  I still wasn’t sure if I should tell him, but I needed to find Lula, and he was the only person liable to help me. Which meant I had to take the risk. “Lula’s pregnant.”

  The car swerved to the right as he jerked his head to face me, but he quickly corrected it. “She’s what?”

  “She’s five or six months pregnant. She’s not sure how far along she is because she hasn’t gone to see a doctor…which means she doesn’t know when she got pregnant. So Bingham could be the father, or if you slept with her…”

  He shook his head. “It’s not me.”

  “So you didn’t sleep with her?”

  “It’s not me, Carly,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road. “Let’s just leave it at that.”

  I would have felt more relieved if he’d flat out denied sleeping with her, but it was obvious this was the best I was going to get. “So Bingham’s in the running for the father, but I don’t think he knows about her pregnancy. Could there be anyone else?”