“My name is Karl Lister.”
My heart skipped a beat, but I tried to keep my cool. I did a quick scan of the crowd. No Bart, but that didn’t mean much—there were plenty of people for him to skulk behind. “Hi, Karl.”
“I’m sorry to just show up like this, but I heard you’re asking a lot of questions about Pam Crimshaw.”
So much for flying under the radar.
He leaned closer. “I’m here because of Thelma.”
I pushed out a sigh of relief. “How do you know Thelma?” Because she’d claimed she didn’t know him.
“My aunt is friends with Thelma’s hairdresser.”
I released a chuckle. “Six degrees of Thelma Tureen.”
His nose wrinkled in confusion. “What?”
“Never mind.”
“I told her I’d come by the tavern tonight, but then I saw it was closed.”
“Yeah, the electricity’s out.” His gaze took in the lights overhead and I added, “Max has a couple of generators.” I finished filling his cup but didn’t hand it to him. “That’ll be three dollars.”
He dug into his back pocket and produced a wallet.
“I have been asking questions about Pam,” I said. “I heard you were in an accident with her son Thad.”
He inhaled sharply. “I was. Are you fixing to make her look like an angel or a devil?”
I looked him in the eye. “I only want the truth, Karl.”
He pulled three ones out of his wallet. “Why?”
I hesitated, then said, “I think something else might have been going on.”
“What does that mean?”
I took the money from his hand and handed him the beer. “Did you get a settlement from the lawsuit?”
“It settled out of court the morning of the trail.” He paused, then shrugged. “I got one hundred grand. Not nearly enough, but my attorney encouraged me to take it anyway. They say it’s pretty common,” he added. “Settling out of court. I still wonder if I could have gotten more.” Anger filled his eyes. “I lost my job. I lost my house. I walk with a permanent limp. My life was ruined, and all I got was a hundred grand, while that kid gets off scot free.” He gestured toward Thad and his friends.
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault, but his mother did anything and everything to get him out of it. All he got was community service.”
I told myself to be careful and not get too excited. “Do you think the judge who sentenced Thad was corrupt?”
“What?” He squinted. “Maybe. I hadn’t considered it before.”
“Do think that Pam might have had outside help to get her son off?”
“You mean like an attorney?”
“No, like someone paying the judge to give Thad a lighter sentence?”
His face paled. “Son of a bitch.”
I held up a hand. “I didn’t say it happened. I only asked if you thought it was possible.”
“Hell, yeah, I think it’s possible.”
The back door opened, and Marco emerged. He started toward me, but a couple of guys who were regulars at the tavern stopped him and pounded him on the back in presumed congratulations.
“Can we meet somewhere more private?” I asked. “What’s your schedule like? I can meet you early afternoon tomorrow or anytime before five the next day.”
“I have to work tomorrow, but Saturday morning sounds good.” He pulled out his cell phone. “What’s your number so we can connect?”
I gave him the tavern number. “That’s the number here, which is the best way to reach me since I’m almost always at the tavern. If you call tomorrow night, we can set up a time and location.”
He entered it into his phone and looked up at me, defeat filling his eyes. “Do you really think she bribed someone to get him off?”
“I don’t know, Karl,” I said sympathetically. “That’s part of what I’m looking into.”
“What does that have to do with her killing that insurance agent?”
“I’m trying to figure that out too.”
He nodded, still not looking convinced, then limped away, the beer in his cup sloshing over the side.
Marco returned, casting a glance back at Karl. “Who was that?”
“Karl Lister.” Even as I said his name, I looked for Bart, relieved that he was still nowhere to be seen.
Marco’s eyes flew wide. “Why were you talking to him?”
“He came over to me. Besides, he bought a beer.”
“Carly, if Bart—”
“He came over to me. He didn’t dawdle long, and he just left. Everyone’s getting drinks tonight. It’s not that weird.” But even I had a hard time believing that. At the same time, I wasn’t sure what I could have done differently. Wouldn’t it have looked more suspicious if I’d sent him away immediately? “He says he lost his job and his house, but they settled his case out of court the morning of his trial. All he got was one hundred thousand.”
“Which means he only got about sixty or seventy thousand after his lawyer got his cut,” Marco said. “Not much given what he lost.”
“He said his attorney suggested he accept the offer. It wasn’t much money, but what pissed Karl off the most was that Thad got off so easily.”
“If his attorney pressed him to accept, he may have gotten a bribe, but the money probably came from the car insurance company. I highly doubt Bart had any influence over them, nor would they care. And sure, the Crimshaws’ premiums probably went up a whole lot, but that would have happened anyway. I wonder if he got anything else.”
“He wants to meet with me on Saturday morning to discuss it more. I can ask him then.”
Marco pressed his lips together, then nodded. “Maybe I’ll go with you. Jim Palmer’s funeral is that afternoon.”
I wasn’t going to complain.
Movement on the street caught my eye, and I saw Hank hobbling toward the edge of the parking lot with his crutches. He was wearing a button-down checkered shirt and jeans, the right leg rolled up and pinned.
“Hank.” I covered my face with my hands as tears sprang to my eyes.
Marco put his hand on my shoulder. “Go see him. I’ve got this covered.”
I scooted around the edge of the table and hurried over to him. When he saw me, he gave me a big smile.
“You’re here!” I exclaimed as I got closer.
“Wyatt came and got me.”
Wyatt stood to the side, watching with his thumbs hooked under the waistband of his jeans.
“Thank you,” I said to him as a tear slid down my cheek.
“No cryin’,” Hank grumped. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“You have no idea,” I said, throwing my arms around him and hugging him tight.
He patted my back. “There, there, girlie. You’re gonna knock me over.”
Laughing, I released him. “Are you hungry? Do you want to sit down? We can get you a chair. Do you want me to get you some water?”
“Slow down,” he said with a grin. “I know I don’t get out of the house much, but I’m not a shut-in. You’re right. I need to get out more, and Wyatt’s gonna get my car set up tomorrow so I can start driving myself around.”
“I’m still going to your doctor appointments in Greeneville,” I said in a stern voice.
“You’re only sayin’ that because you want your Church’s Chicken.”
“Maybe. But I also want to talk to your doctors and make sure you’re not pullin’ a fast one on me.”
He laughed. “Deal. Now why are you standin’ here talkin’ to me? I want to see you dancin’ with that man of yours.”
“Marco’s manning the drink table. Speaking of which, do you want me to get you a drink? Have you been good with your diet today? Maybe you can splurge and have a beer.”
He cast a glance at Marco. “I’m fine with water. You go get it, and I’ll find a place to park myself.”
I went back over to Marco and walked behind the table to get a bottle
of water.
“Did Wyatt go pick up Hank?” he asked.
I grimaced. “Yeah.”
“That was nice of him. Honestly, I should have thought of it.”
“I suppose Wyatt thought of it because he’s fixing up Hank’s car to make him more independent. I did mention earlier that I wished he could come, but we were too busy setting up for me to get him, and even if I had, he would have tired out quickly, staying here so long.”
“See? This works out better. I’m glad Wyatt got him, Carly,” he said earnestly. “I’m just sayin’ I feel like a heel for not thinkin’ of it myself. I could have gone and picked him up before I came.”
“We’re not used to the idea of him coming into town for things. We’ll both think of it next time.” I lifted the bottle of water. “I’m gonna take this to Hank.”
“Okay. Have you seen Max? I don’t see him anywhere, and we’re going to need to change the keg soon.”
“Maybe he went inside. I have to go to the bathroom, anyway, so I can look for him.”
“Sounds good.”
Wyatt had moved a chair to the parking lot, next to the grassy back edge, and Hank was sitting in it with his crutches lying on the ground next to him. He was watching the dancers with a wistfulness I’d never seen on his face.
I handed him the bottle, then squatted next to him. “Are you thinking of Mary right now?”
He released a soft laugh. “That woman loved to dance. The town used to put on monthly dances in the summer, and Mary always wanted to go. She would dance all night, leavin’ me utterly exhausted, but she’d still be dancing through the front door when we got home. This makes me think of happier times.”
I reached up and grabbed his hand, giving it a soft squeeze.
“Did Bart come too? And Floyd Bingham?”
“Yep. The dance was considered neutral ground. No nonsense allowed.” He cast a glance down at me. “It was for the town’s sake. So people would feel safe, and they wouldn’t worry about gettin’ caught in any cross-fire.”
“Literal?” I asked, wide-eyed.
He shrugged as though it was no big deal. “That too. There was a lot of divisiveness, and even though a good portion of the people in town had nothing to do with anything underhanded, they could still feel the tension. Drummond ran the town, so he started the dances and proposed they be Switzerland. Mary convinced me it was a good idea.” He shot me a wink. “I teased her she wanted it to work for selfish reasons. I’ll never forget the look in her eyes when she lifted her chin and said defiantly, ‘Suppose I do. You know I’m not the only one.’ And she was right, so I swallowed a lump of pride and accepted the terms, but the deal was he provided the moonshine and I provided the bands.”
“And what did Floyd Bingham provide?”
Releasing a snort, he said, “Not a damn thing. He didn’t come most of the time, but eventually his son did.”
“Say, Hank,” I said, feeling awkward about what I was about to ask. But I’d feel unsettled until I said something. “Is there bad blood between you and Jerry Nelson?”
His brow shot up. “What makes you ask?”
“I told Jerry to let me know if things turn sour out at the Drummonds’. I said I’d help him get resettled, and he told me that he doubted you’d want him stayin’ with us for any length of time.”
He snorted. “Two old men livin’ with a young woman? Sounds like one of them sitcoms. That’s what he probably meant.”
Only I didn’t think that was what he meant at all. Had Hank just lied to me, or had he forgotten some grievance that Jerry remembered? I was having too much fun to put a pall over it.
“So they used to have dances?” I said. “How many years did they go on?”
He pushed out a sigh. “I don’t recall. Ten years? Maybe twelve? They stopped when the lumber mill went under. People didn’t feel much like celebratin’ when they’d just lost their jobs and the man hostin’ the parties was the one who’d ruined ’em.” He motioned to the dancers. “Max did a good thing. The town needed this.”
“Speaking of Max…” I got to my feet. “I’m supposed to ask him about changing the keg. Save me a spot on your dance card, Hank. You’re gonna dance with me.”
He snorted again. “The hell I am.”
I pointed a finger at him. “Just like your Mary, I know when to dig in my feet. I will get my way, and you know it, so you might as well accept it.”
He shot me a dark glare. It might have scared someone else, but I just grinned and waited with a hand propped on my hip.
“Fine. Go.” He made a shooing motion, and I laughed as I turned around and headed for the back door.
There was still no sign of Bart or Emily. I hoped that meant they’d gotten bored and left.
The back hall was illuminated with an overhead light. One of the generators was hooked up to the tavern to keep the refrigerators and freezer running, and Max had left the hall light on so people could see when they went in to use the bathroom. Since the tavern only had two restrooms with one toilet each, there’d been a line most of the night, so I was fortunate that there was only one person ahead of me. I got to the restroom quicker than I’d expected—the woman in front me had gone in to reapply some makeup—and when I got out, the hall was empty.
I walked around the table Max and Tiny had turned on its side to block the end of the hall and the entrance to the dining room, and headed to Max’s office. It was locked.
Where was he?
I started to head back outside when I heard a loud thud on the ceiling above my head, coming from Max’s apartment.
He’d seemed eager to enjoy the night, but maybe he’d gone up there for a break. Or to use his own bathroom. I considered finding Ruth and making an executive decision about the keg, but I decided Max would want some input. I headed up the dark stairwell and stood in front of the doorway, surprised to hear a couple of voices on the other side. They were too muffled for me to make out who they belonged to, but one of them was definitely female.
Well, crap. Had Max found a woman and brought her upstairs? I definitely didn’t want to interrupt.
I turned around to go downstairs, but it was nearly pitch black, and I banged into the wall outside the door. Cringing, I was torn between bolting down the stairs and waiting to see if Max came to the door to check on the noise. Before I could decide, the door opened and Max appeared, his hand on the door. His apartment was dark except for a dim circle of light from a couple of candles on his coffee table.
“Max, I’m so sorry,” I gushed. His face was swathed in shadows, and I couldn’t see if he was pissed. “The keg’s nearly empty, and I came up to ask which one to use as a replacement, but then I heard voices and started to leave so I wouldn’t interrupt.” I lowered my voice. “I didn’t mean to bother you. You get back to whatever it was you were doing and we’ll sort it out ourselves.”
“Is that Carly I hear?” a familiar female voice called out.
Oh shit.
Max hesitated. “Yeah, Mom.”
“Well, don’t be rude, Max. Invite her in.”
Max hesitated again, then backed up so I could enter the room.
“Well hello, Carly,” she said from across the room. She was sitting on the edge of Max’s sofa, but I didn’t see Bart. “It’s been too long since we chatted. I was hoping you’d come out to tea again.”
I stopped a couple of feet into the room. “I’ve been busy.”
“Yes, you have, haven’t you? What with Tutoring Club and your community outreach to those in peril, I’m sure you don’t have much spare time.”
Was she talking about Pam? Had she caught wind of what I was up to?
Max gave me a wary look but didn’t go over to join his mother.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I said hastily. “I just needed to ask Max about the keg replacement, but then I heard voices and I wasn’t sure if Max had invited a lady friend upstairs.”
Emily laughed but it sounded forced. “Yes, one of my
sons sleeps around while the other pines for you.” Her mouth pinched. “Shame on the lot of you for lettin’ me think you and Wyatt were together when you broke up months ago.”
I didn’t want to touch that subject. It hadn’t been my lie. That one was squarely on the Drummond men. I backed up a step toward the door. “So, Max? The keg?”
“Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, looking thrown. “Just use your best judgment.”
“Max, why don’t you go take care of the keg so us girls can have a chat?” Emily said, but it wasn’t a question.
“Oh, that’s all right,” I said, taking another step. “I’ll just be on my way.”
“Really, Caroline,” she said in an icy tone. “I insist.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Max’s eyes widened. He started to say something, but when he saw I didn’t correct her, he stopped.
Panic flooded my body, and I nearly ran down the stairs to escape, but I had to be smart about this. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that she knew my secret. Even if Bart hadn’t told her, no doubt the information was there at her house, available for the taking. Now, I had to find out what she wanted.
I turned to look at Max, not surprised by the confusion on his face. He thought Carly was a nickname for Charlene. “I think I’ll stay and have a chat with your mother.”
He still hesitated, as though he thought leaving us alone wasn’t a good idea.
“Marco had almost run the keg dry about five minutes ago, so he needs an answer.”
“Carly,” he said, then cast a glance to his mother.
“Really, Max,” Emily said in an amused tone. “Why are you acting so strangely?”
He opened the door, and I called out, “Would you refrain from telling Marco that I’m up here?” If he knew I was alone with Emily, I suspected he’d barge in.
“Uh…” He glanced back to his mother again.
“And also keep this from your father,” Emily added. “Basically, this is all a big secret. Can you keep it?”
He shot her a dark glare. “Haven’t I already?” Then he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
“Don’t mind Max,” she said, making a dismissive wave with one hand. “He’s a bit out of sorts after the conversation we were having before you appeared.” A smile lifted her lips. “Which was quite fortuitous.” Her brow lifted. “Or was it?”
Buried in Secrets: Carly Moore #4 Page 25