Her Scream in the Silence

by Denise Grover Swank

  “Ruth called me and said you’d disappeared after going to the back room. She was scared, saying you disappeared shortly after Bingham came to see you. Charlie was careless when he kidnapped you, because there was an obvious sign of a struggle and your coat was still there. So I went to Bingham’s property to tell him you’d been taken. I demanded he give you back if he was the one who’d taken you, but he swore he didn’t have you, which put Charlie Jones at the top of the suspect list. Seein’ as how Bingham’s not bound by the law, he drove straight to Mobley Funeral Home and demanded answers.”

  “You were with Bingham when he questioned Mobley?”

  “No, but I was in my car in the parking lot. I’m still an accessory.”

  I closed my eyes and tears leaked from the corners. “Marco. I’m so sorry.”

  Marco pulled me into a hug. “I’m not. I’d do it all over again, and then some, to save you.”

  The whole nightmare replayed in my head. I started to sob. He let me cry myself out, gently wrapped me up in his arms, then tucked me back into his bed when I got sleepy from the exertion.

  The next time I woke it was late evening. He gave me some chicken broth and then helped me into the bathroom. He gave me some privacy, but returned to sit on the toilet while I showered in case I needed help.

  After that, I was awake more often, and the next day I could get out of bed on my own. I’d moved out to the sofa, and we were watching an action movie that Marco had picked from his satellite dish lineup. I was leaning into his arm, dozing off and on, when his body stiffened. He jumped up, grabbing his crutch, and hobbled to a window overlooking the front yard.

  I could hear a car engine coming closer.

  Marco picked up a shotgun lying on his kitchen table and headed for the front door.

  “Marco?”

  He ignored me, opening the front door and lifting his gun as a greeting to the approaching vehicle.

  “Marco.”

  I started to get up, but he shot me a glance as he lowered the weapon. “It’s Lula and Greta.”

  I sank back into the cushions, pulling the blanket on my lap higher to ward off the chill from outside.

  “Is it okay if we see Carly?” I heard Lula ask.

  “She’s still recoverin’,” Marco said, “but I know she’d be happy to see you both.”

  A few seconds later, they both bustled inside and hurried over to me. Greta was carrying a vase of flowers and Lula had a handful of magazines.

  Relief flooded my veins. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you both.”

  “We’ve been dyin’ to see you,” Lula said. “But Marco said you weren’t up to visitors yet.”

  “I suggested that you wait until tomorrow,” he grumbled, shutting the door and laying the gun on the table. “She still needs her rest.”

  “I’m glad you came,” I said, even though I felt a little self-conscious. Lula’s face was glowing with an inner joy that made me slightly jealous, and while Greta’s face was still bruised, she’d covered it up with makeup and had on a cute shirt and jeans. I was wearing one of Marco’s long-sleeved T-shirts and a pair of sagging jogger pants. I hadn’t brushed my hair since my shower the night before, and I knew I had a serious case of bed head from lying against Marco and the sofa back.

  “We brought you some things as a thank you,” Greta said, holding out the vase of mixed red, yellow, and white flowers, “even though it’s pretty lame in comparison to what you did for us.”

  “Thank you,” I said with a soft smile. “I love flowers, but you didn’t have to bring me anything but yourselves.”

  They set their gifts on the coffee table, and Greta took a seat to my right while Lula got settled in the armchair. Marco offered them drinks, but they declined. He hung back in the kitchen, giving us space but ready to step in if I needed help.

  Lula stared at me for a few seconds, clearly wanting to say something but hesitant to do so.

  “It’s okay, Lula,” I said. “Feel free to say what’s on your mind.”

  She glanced down at her lap before looking up to meet my eyes. “No one in this town thought to look for me except you. Max was countin’ on that.” She grimaced, then shook her head. “The no one lookin’ part. Not the part about you lookin’.”

  “I gathered that,” I said, the scab ripped from the wound of his betrayal. “What happened after I dropped you off at home? How’d you end up with Max?”

  “I went home and started a fire before bed. I was getting ready for work the next morning when I heard a truck comin’ down the lane. No one comes to see me, so I knew it was probably one of Carson Purdy’s guys wantin’ their money. The thing is, I did something stupid, Carly. When I got to Chattanooga, I stood by the river, looking down at the water, and it was just so beautiful. I thought about taking my baby there someday, and suddenly I couldn’t stand the thought of going through with the deal. I threw the drugs in the water. I knew I couldn’t come back after what I done, but then I heard about Carson Purdy, and I figured maybe it would be okay to come home. I didn’t think Pete would hurt me because of the baby. But when that man showed up on my property, I realized I’d thought wrong. I grabbed my shotgun and ran out the back to the creek, then hurried down it a ways so he wouldn’t see my footprints.”

  “Weren’t your feet wet and freezing?” I asked.

  “I was wearin’ my snow boots.”

  Lula was obviously a whole lot smarter than I’d given her credit for.

  “I wasn’t sure what to do or where to go, so I decided to go to Max. He’s always been nice to me. Momma had hinted that maybe Bingham wasn’t my daddy after all, that maybe it was Bart Drummond. She knew I was wantin’ to quit workin’ with Mobley, and she thought I’d keep doin’ it if I thought there was a pot of gold at the end.”

  Which meant Bart was likely behind the operation after all.

  “Did you call Max to come get you?”

  “I had to get to a phone first. I stuck to the trees, so it took me most of the day to get to town. I wanted to stay hidden, so I let myself into one of the rooms at the Alpine Inn by pickin’ the lock. That’s when I called Max. I told him someone was after me. He said to stay put, that he’d come get me after closin’, but then he called and told me to get out of there. To go hide in the church until he could come get me.”

  I nodded. “I saw Neil Carpenter coming out of one of the rooms at the inn, and it freaked him out. He must have thought his father was lookin’ for you.” I made a face. “Your father.”

  I glanced up. Marco was leaning against the opening to the kitchen, watching me with concern in his eyes.

  Her hands twisted in her lap. “I hadn’t given him any details at that point. Anyway, he brought me back to the inn and put me in the second room from the end. He said he’d fortified the locks and no one was gettin’ in. He left me a burger and fries and then went back to the tavern. He called me later, after he walked Greta to her car, and said this was gettin’ serious and I needed to tell him what was goin’ on. I was scared he was just puttin’ me up temporarily, so I told him. Just blurted it out. ‘I’m your baby sister,’ I said. And Carly, I’m not proud of this, but since I didn’t know what else to do to get his help, I lied to him. ‘We have the same daddy,’ I said, ‘and I think he wants me dead.’ He told me to stay put and he’d be over after he closed.”

  Had Max made that call from his office? He’d been gone a long time and then acted tight-lipped afterward.

  “He hated that you were lookin’ for me. He thought that tellin’ you Ruth wouldn’t like you lookin’ would make you stop, but he said he underestimated your stubbornness.”

  Marco grinned, but he stayed in the background, giving us our space even though it was his house.

  Earnestness filled her eyes. “Max wanted to tell you, but I made him swear to keep it a secret. It’s my fault he kept it from you.”

  “How did Wyatt get involved?”

  “He knocked on my motel door and gave me a blanke
t to wrap around my head and told me to get into the backseat of his truck and stay down. Max was sittin’ in the front, smellin’ like puke.”

  “Late Saturday afternoon?” I asked. After Wyatt had taken off running.

  “Yeah.”

  I nearly asked if they were worried about being seen, but then I thought better of it. Downtown Drum was pretty dead on the weekends.

  “Wyatt took us both to his house, and after Max showered and had some coffee, we just talked.” She gave me an apologetic smile. “Wyatt had already figured out that Bart was my daddy, and he knows about five others. He has a notebook he keeps notes in.”

  I smothered the involuntary gasp rising in my throat. He barely knew Lula, but because they shared DNA he’d told her more than he’d told me. After everything we’d been through.

  Marco made a move to come into the living room, but he must have thought better of it because he stopped and turned toward the table, easing himself into a chair.

  “Wyatt said we needed to take the weekend to think things through and figure out how to handle the situation, ’cause they still thought it was Bart comin’ for me. The guilt just ate at me, so I told them the truth on Sunday. That it was Carson Purdy’s guy who was after me, and I’d been smuggling drugs to Chattanooga.” She paused. “Wyatt didn’t take it well, sayin’ he’d thrown away the best thing that had happened to ’im in a long time to save me, but Max told him to calm down. That you’d understand. Look at what you’d done to try to find me. Then they argued about tellin’ you the truth, but Wyatt said he’d do it in person on Monday. They’d figured out that Ruth had opened the bar by then, and Hank had said you were workin’.” Tears filled her eyes. “Then you called around midnight that night, and Wyatt didn’t get the chance.”

  I was dangerously close to tears, and I searched for Marco’s warm eyes. He nodded slightly, and a soft grin lifted the corners of his mouth, his silent message loud and clear. You’ve got this, Carly. You’re stronger than this.

  “I’m sorry I wouldn’t let him tell you,” she said, tears tracking down her cheeks. “I’m sorry you were nearly killed tryin’ to help me.”

  I gnawed at the inside of my cheek, hesitating. “Marco said Wyatt and Max don’t know the truth about what happened, that you wouldn’t tell a soul. But you didn’t…?”

  She shook her head. “As far as they know, you came down with the flu and you’re stayin’ with Marco until you recover so you don’t get Hank sick. The only reason they let me out of their sight is they know Todd will protect me.”

  I nodded.

  “You look tired,” she said. “I only wanted to tell you thank you and let you know that Wyatt was helpin’ me. Both of the Drummond brothers were.”

  I gave her a tight smile. “Lucky for you that you have them on your side.”

  “Yeah,” she said with a wistful smile. “I am.”

  Greta had been silent, but I turned to her and said, “Greta, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  Then I told her what Charlie had told me about her sister.

  “Don’t worry,” she said with a soft smile. “I already moved out and into a small house outside of town.”

  “That quickly?” I asked in surprise.

  Lula gave her a conspiratorial smile. “It helps havin’ friends with connections.”

  I lifted my gaze to Marco’s, and the look in his eyes confirmed we were both thinking the same thing—Bingham had helped Greta find her new place.

  They got up to leave soon after, and I stood to see them out. They both gave me hugs, and just as Lula was getting ready to walk out the door, I said, “Lula?”

  She turned back to face me.

  “Do you remember much of the day your mother shot your father?”

  Storm clouds filled her blue eyes. “I don’t like to think about that day.”

  Then she turned around and walked out the door.

  I watched her and Greta get into a car driven by a man with serious muscles and an even more serious expression. Moments later, they were gone.

  It stood to reason Bingham would give her a bodyguard.

  “I forgot to ask if she was still workin’ at the tavern,” I said softly as I watched the car disappear around a curve.

  “I think you know the answer to that. I’m surprised Bingham let her off his property long enough to come see you. I expected him to make you go to her.”

  I closed the door and turned to face him, still sitting at the table.

  “Did Wyatt try to come see me?” I asked quietly.

  He hesitated, and pity covered his face. “No.”

  “Did you talk to him at all?”

  “Max came by on Monday, and I quickly shooed him out. I told him you had a bad case of the flu, and I wasn’t sure when you’d be back. He’s called to check on you every day, but I haven’t heard from Wyatt.”

  Tears filled my eyes and I walked over to the sofa. He got up and hobbled over to sit next to me. “I don’t know what’s goin’ on with you two, but I think he was probably your closest friend in town. After Max kept me in the dark, turns out, I’ve lost my closest friend too”—his voice wavered—“so how about we agree to be that person for each other? The one person you can turn to, no matter what.”

  He held out his hand, fingers flexed.

  Biting my lip, I held back tears. “Just friends?”

  “Just friends. Turns out sex complicates everything.”

  I released a laugh. “I didn’t even have sex with him.”

  “Really?” he asked in disbelief. “Sorry, none of my business.”

  I turned to look up at him. “Isn’t that the kind of thing best friends tell each other?”

  He grinned. “Yeah.”

  “I have one rule, Marco. No secrets. That’s why I broke up with Wyatt. I couldn’t trust him. I need you to be honest with me, and I’ll tell you everything in return.” I held his gaze. “Everything.”

  He held out his hand again. “That’s easy enough. I don’t have any big, dark secrets. You’re the one with something to lose, but I’ll be honored to the day I die if you trust me with yours.”

  I grabbed his hand, linking our fingers and holding on to him as though he were my lifeline.

  And then I told him everything.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  On Thursday, Marco took me back to Hank’s. He took one look at me and knew I’d been sick, and the tables turned—he started waiting on me instead of the other way around. By Friday, I could make it through the day without taking a nap. Ruth stopped by to see me. She was surprised by how poorly I still seemed and suggested that I see a doctor, but I told her I was on the mend and would be as good as new by Monday.

  Marco dropped by multiple times over the weekend, and I was sure it was partially out of boredom. Hank seemed to enjoy his company, but on Sunday afternoon he suggested it would be good for both of us if we walked the property—Marco so he wouldn’t end up a one-legged man like him, and me so I’d be in good enough shape to return to work on Monday.

  We were close to the road when a car pulled into the driveway and the driver’s window slowly rolled down. The man at the wheel was a stranger. “Carly Moore?”

  Marco took a step in front of me. “Who’s askin’?”

  “I have a message from Bart Drummond.”

  I moved around Marco. I’d been expecting this. In truth, I was surprised it had taken so long. “I’m Carly Moore.”

  He handed me an envelope, then rolled up his window and backed out onto the road and drove away.

  Taking a breath, I opened the envelope and read the handwritten note.

  Your presence is requested at the Drummond residence on Monday at eleven a.m.

  Bart Drummond

  “You don’t have to go,” Marco said.

  “Yeah,” I said, but we both knew I did.

  The next day, I put on a dress and makeup, and left early enough to stop by the tavern first.

  Max was in his apartment, but
I’d warned him I was coming, so he met me downstairs. Concern filled his eyes when he saw me. I’d lost five pounds and my color still hadn’t returned. Makeup helped, but I still looked like I’d been on death’s doorstep.

  “Are you sure you want to come back to work tonight?” he asked.

  “I’ve missed a whole week of work. I need to make some money, but I’m not sure how long I’ll last.”

  “Lula’s workin’ tonight, so don’t you worry about that. We’ll figure it out.”

  “Lula’s workin’?” I asked in surprise. “I thought for sure she’d quit now that she’s with Bingham.”

  “Well, I’m not sure how much longer she’ll stay. I suspect she’s doin’ it to cover for you. I wouldn’t be surprised if she quits soon after you return.”

  “That makes sense.” I gestured to the dining area. “Can I sit? I’m still not—”

  “Of course.” He led me to a table like I was about to collapse, then ran and got me a glass of water.

  When he sat down next to me, he turned serious. “What really happened to you, Carly? Greta had to take a few days off from Watson’s too. Only when she returned, her face was sportin’ bruises she said came from Tim Hines.”

  “It was a really bad bug.”

  “One that makes you disappear out of the back of the restaurant? Marco told us all you had the flu, but we’re not stupid, not to mention I stopped by Marco’s last Monday and saw you in his room with an IV pole and Todd Bingham’s personal medic injecting something in your IV.”

  “Did you ask Marco?”

  “He said you had the flu and refused to address the Bingham part.”

  “Well, there you go.”

  “But it seems quite the coincidence, considerin’ Wyatt and I delivered Lula to him shortly after your call.”

  I didn’t respond.

  “Wyatt thinks there’s something between you and Marco.”

  “I can’t control what Wyatt thinks,” I said. “And frankly, it’s none of his business since we aren’t together. But for the record, Marco and I are just friends. Very good friends, and nothing more.”

  “Wyatt cares about you, Carly.”