Max cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Marco!”
We waited, and I thought I heard a faint sound.
“Marco!” I called out, desperation leaking into my voice.
“Carly!” Marco’s voice was barely audible.
I turned to Max. He’d heard it too. “On the other side.”
We looked both ways and then sprinted across the road. Marco wasn’t within sight, so we both called out his name again.
“Down here!” Marco shouted.
I turned to the sound of his voice, which was coming from up ahead and down the hill.
“We’re on our way!” I took off running down the side of the road, heading toward his voice.
“Call 911!” Marco shouted. “We need an ambulance!”
My heart skipped a beat, and I turned to Max, trying not to fall apart.
“Marco has a radio in his car,” Max said, breathing heavily. “I’ll go make the call, then come down to you guys.”
I nodded, then took off running again, calling out Marco’s name. I ran a good thirty to forty feet before I saw tracks in the dirt next to the shoulder, going down a sharp incline.
“Marco?”
“Down here!” He was definitely closer, but he sounded out of breath and upset. “Carly, go get help!”
“Max is calling,” I said as I started to make my way down the slippery slope, not an easy task in the dark. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, but it still impacted visibility. “How badly are you hurt?”
“I’m not hurt. Go back and help Max!”
“If you’re not hurt, who is?”
I continued down, and the silhouette of a truck came into view. “Whose truck is that, Marco?”
“Carly,” he said, sounding much closer. “Go back up to Max.”
His voice was shaking.
I could see him now. The passenger side had smashed into several trees. The driver’s door was open, and Marco was in jeans and T-shirt, trying to find purchase on the muddy slope as he leaned inside. His body was moving up and down, and it took me a moment to realize he was administering CPR.
“Oh God.”
He turned to me. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to see the anguish on his face. His wet shirt was plastered to his arms and chest. He looked exhausted and his arms were shaking. Obviously, he’d been doing this for a while, and he needed a break.
“Who is that?” I asked, and when he didn’t answer, I slid down toward him. It was then I saw the writing on the side of the truck.
Drummond Properties.
The air left my lungs and I stumbled. “No.”
Marco groaned. “Carly. Go watch for the ambulance so they can find us.”
I ignored him, continuing down the hill. Although I didn’t want to believe it, I knew who was in that truck. But I couldn’t let myself dwell on the horror of what was happening. I had to focus on helping, and if we moved the driver out of the truck and onto the ground, CPR would be more effective.
I braced myself when I reached the open door, but nothing could have prepared me for Jerry’s bloodied face. He eyes were closed, and he looked pale. Marco had adjusted his seat so he was in a semi-reclined position. I was milliseconds away from breaking down, but I could do that later. We had to save Jerry.
“I take you can’t get him out?” I asked in my take-charge teacher voice.
He turned to me in surprise. “His legs are wedged under the dash.”
I opened the back door and climbed inside.
“Carly, what are you doin’?”
“I’m about to take over and give you a break. How long have you been doing this?” I crawled over the back seat and across the console to the front passenger seat. I pushed his hands away and found my placing and began compressions.
I hadn’t ever performed CPR on an actual person before, but I’d done it several times on a dummy for my teaching certification. While I didn’t want to potentially hurt Jerry, I knew it was important to be aggressive…even if that meant breaking ribs. Plus, Marco was much stronger than me and had likely already done the worst.
Marco sank to the ground in exhaustion.
“How long, Marco?”
“I don’t know. Twenty minutes? Forty-five? I kept hoping someone would stop, but I didn’t dare stop CPR to go radio for help.”
“Max is doing it now.”
I stopped compressions, made sure Jerry’s head was tilted correctly, then put my mouth on his, pushing air into his lungs.
“Did he have a pulse when you found him?” I asked as I started compressions again.
“He was conscious when I found him. I saw it happen. A black truck forced him off the road, then drove off. I stopped and ran down the hill to see if the passengers were okay. Then I realized it was Jerry.” His voice broke, and he released a sob. “He was so relieved to see me. I should have run to radio for help, but he was scared, and I didn’t want to leave him.”
“You did the right thing,” I said, continuing my compressions and refusing to believe it was too late. “He needed you there with him.”
“He was worried Bart would be upset with him for wrecking his trunk.” His voice broke again. “He said he was grateful to Bart for giving him a second chance and he didn’t want to let him down.” Marco wiped his face with the back of his arm. “I told him it wasn’t his fault. That I’d seen someone force him off the road, and I’d make sure Bart knew it. And if Bart still blamed him, I’d personally kick his ass.” He looked up at me. “He laughed at that.”
“So he was alive when you found him,” I said more to myself than him. “That’s good. He has a chance.” But Jerry was so cold beneath my touch I was struggling to believe it.
“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Marco said. “He has a deep laceration on his inner right thigh. I used my belt as a tourniquet, but he bled quite a bit before I got it on.” He took a breath and cleared his throat. “He was worried he’d lose the leg if we left it on too long. But I told him he and Hank could start a one-legged man club.” He released a chuckle that turned into a partial sob.
Sirens wailed in the distance, and the sound seemed to invigorate Marco. He got to his feet as I gave Jerry another breath.
“I’ll take over the breathing,” he said. “You do compressions until you get tired, then I’ll take over again.”
I hoped to God an ambulance showed up before I got too tired, but I wasn’t used to an upper-body workout, and I was already sore and fatigued.
Max called out Marco’s name from the top of the hill, and Marco answered. I could see a flashlight beam bouncing around on the hill as he scrambled down to us. “An ambulance and some sheriff’s deputies are on their way.” Then he reached Marco and cursed before he wailed, “Jerry.”
I looked up into Max’s face, not surprised to see his anguish. He’d always had a soft spot for the older man. Max had made sure Jerry had a roof over his head and multiple meals a day for years.
The sirens grew closer.
“What happened?” Max demanded, sounding angry. “How did this happen?” He turned an accusatory glare at me.
“He was run off the road,” Marco said, regaining his composure. “I ran down and found him like this.”
The sirens were directly above us, and Marco turned to his friend.
“I set up a flare so they knew where to find us. No way was I leavin’ Carly down here alone. We thought it was you.”
Marco didn’t respond.
We continued CPR for a couple minutes longer until the EMTs reached us. They took over and told us to go back up the hill to give our statements.
I didn’t want to leave Jerry, but I knew we were in the way. Marco helped me out of the truck, then the three of us climbed back up the hill with the help of a rope the emergency personnel had wound around a tree. It reminded me of when Wyatt’s truck had been run off the road after I’d first come to town, and I’d climbed down to help him.
That felt like it had been years ago now.<
br />
By the time we reached the road, my wet clothes were plastered to my body and I began to shiver. A sheriff deputy gave us blankets and offered to let us sit in the back of his car to warm up, but the three of us huddled together, watching the narrow clearing so we could see them bring Jerry up. We heard the sound of a saw, so presumably they’d managed to get him out. Then an EMT emerged from the clearing, glancing our direction before he got into the ambulance and grabbed a folded bag.
“No.” Marco gasped.
“What?” I asked, grabbing a handful of his shirt.
He took two breaths before he said, “It’s a body bag.”
I broke into tears, which quickly turned into sobs. I cried so hard I hyperventilated. An EMT offered to look me over, but Marco led me to his Explorer. Max chose to stay with the ambulance, but he gave me a worried look before we crossed the highway.
Marco’s car was already running, so it was warm when we both sat in the back seat. He wrapped an arm around me and assured me it was okay.
“It’s not okay,” I said emphatically. “This is my fault. He’s dead because of me!”
“You did not run him off the road, Carly,” Marco said in a stern voice. “And you have no idea what you did to provoke this. Jim Palmer’s murder had nothing to do with Bart.”
“But they knew I was looking into it because I thought it was one of his favors. Maybe something else we discovered was more on the mark. Or…I contacted Bingham. Maybe they found out? But Bingham didn’t come to the tavern until around ten.”
“After Jerry was run off the road.”
I started crying again. Poor sweet, kind Jerry was dead, and it was all my fault.
Marco pulled me onto his lap and held me close as he tried to comfort me. But it all felt hollow.
Jerry was dead, and I might as well have been the one to run him off the road.
Bart Drummond was going to pay.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Less than a dozen people attended Jerry’s graveside service. His supervisor at the construction site, a couple of other construction workers, plus Max, Wyatt, Ruth and Franklin, and Marco and me. Marco and I clung to each other during the short service, both of us devastated, and Max looked no less miserable. I wasn’t sure who he thought had run off Jerry off the road, but if he believed it was his father was responsible, he didn’t let on.
I’d half expected Bart to show up—he’d paid for the funeral since Jerry had died while on the job—but thank goodness, he’d stayed away.
Max had closed the tavern for the weekend, but he opened it after the funeral to hold a wake to celebrate Jerry’s life. At his encouragement, the guests took turns sharing stories about Jerry. They lifted their glasses and spoke about how kind he had been. How much he’d adored his wife. He’d lost everything in his efforts to save her…only he hadn’t succeeded.
Marco stood next to me and squeezed me tighter, staring down at me with so much love and adoration, it took my breath away.
“I would go to the ends of the earth to protect you,” he whispered.
“And I you.”
He leaned over and kissed me, and when he lifted his head, I realized Wyatt was watching us with an uncomfortable interest.
The sheriff deputies hadn’t found the truck or the person who had run Jerry off the road. For all they knew, it had been a case of road rage.
But I knew different, and I was still struggling to deal with my guilt.
Thad had chosen not to give a statement to Marco or Detective White, but two other victims—a now twenty-year-old man from a rec basketball team Jim had coached a decade before, and an older teen from the same youth group—had come forward, and the sheriff’s department planned on questioning Jim’s wife to see how much she knew about her husband’s activities. Marco and I had decided Ashlynn must have acted so strangely at the mention of Jim’s name because she’d discovered her brother’s secret and kept the information quiet to protect him. Selena had confirmed it. Ashlynn was living with her now, and she still refused to name the father of her baby.
It was too early for Pam to have worked out a plea bargain, but Marco said it wasn’t looking good for her. Her crime seemed random and motiveless, which suggested she was a risk to society. He didn’t expect the DA to go easy on her.
Since I hadn’t needed to work over the weekend, Marco and I had holed up in his house, trying to pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist—a pretense that might have worked better if he hadn’t kept trying to discuss my escape plan. Hank had assured me he could take care of himself, that I only needed to consider my own safety, and Marco had said the same. They’d both insisted I could afford to let my psyche rest and heal before I did anything.
But now that we were back at the tavern, facing the world again, I felt equal parts anger and terror.
Who else would pay with their life because of me?
Was I selfish to stay?
If I’d hoped to find out what Bingham knew, that option was gone, but I had no regrets.
The tavern dining room felt too hot and too tight, and I suddenly needed fresh air.
“I’m going to go out front for a moment,” I told Marco.
Surprise filled his eyes. “I’ll go with you.”
I shook my head. “Just give me a few minutes, okay?”
He hesitated, and I saw a war raging on his face. “Five minutes, then I’m checking on you.”
I gave him a tight smile. “Deal.”
I headed out the front door and paced the sidewalk, sucking in deep breaths. I sneaked a glance over at the motel, and fresh tears sprung to my eyes. Would I ever be able to think about Jerry without crying?
“That’s where you found him, huh?” a male voice said from behind me.
I spun to face him, shocked to see it was Ricky. “What?”
He gestured to the motel parking lot. “You found him over there.”
He was talking about Seth.
My throat burned, and the pain of Seth’s murder resurged with a vengeance, compounding the grief and guilt I already felt for Jerry. I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Was he alive?” His voice broke.
I nodded again. “He was worried about his grandfather.”
“Was he in a lot of pain?”
I took a breath. “No. I don’t think so. I held his hand, so he wasn’t alone.”
Ricky was quiet for a few seconds, his gaze lingering on the parking lot.
“You said you’d like to know more about him.” He glanced down at the sidewalk and toed a crack with the tip of his sneakered foot. “Nobody wants to talk about him. They think it’s weird.” He glanced up. “Do you still want to know about him?”
My chin quivered as I fought tears. I worried I’d scare him off. What teenage boy wanted to deal with a weeping woman? But there were tears in his eyes too.
“Yeah,” I choked out.
He sat down on a bench in front of the tavern, then gave me a questioning look. “What do you want to know?”
I walked over and sat down next to him. “Tell me everything.”
***
The Lies She Told
Carly Moore #5
June 8, 2021
Join my mailing list.for information about sales and releases as well as free bonus content.
Want to connect with other DGS readers? Join the Denise Grover Swank Readers Community.
Looking for another mystery series from me Try the Rose Gardner series—check out Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes.
Or check out my Magnolia Steele mystery series with the first book Center Stage.
Also by Denise Grover Swank
Carly Moore
A Cry in the Dark
Her Scream in the Silence
One Foot in the Grave
Buried in Secrets
The Lies She Told
Rose And Neely Kate reading order:
Family Jewels
Trailer Trash
For the Birds
Hell in a Ha
ndbasket
In High Cotton
Up Shute Creek
Come Rain or Shine
Dirty Money
When the Bough Breaks
It All Falls Down
( February, 2021)
Rose Gardner Investigations
Family Jewels
For the Birds
Hell in a Handbasket
Up Shute Creek
Come Rain or Shine
When the Bough Breaks
It All Falls Down
(February 2021)
Neely Kate Mystery
Trailer Trash
In High Cotton
Dirty Money
Magnolia Steele Mystery
Center Stage
Act Two
Call Back
Curtain Call
Darling Investigations
(Humorous mystery romance)
Deadly Summer
Blazing Summer
Rose Gardner Mysteries
Novellas are bonus material
TWENTY-EIGHT AND A HALF WISHES
TWENTY-NINE AND A HALF REASONS
THIRTY AND A HALF EXCUSES
FALLING TO PIECES (novella)
THIRTY-ONE AND A HALF REGRETS
THIRTY-TWO AND A HALF COMPLICATIONS
PICKING UP THE PIECES (novella)
THIRTY-THREE AND A HALF SHENANIGANS
ROSE AND HELENA SAVE CHRISTMAS (novella)
RIPPLE OF SECRETS (novella)
THIRTY-FOUR AND A HALF PREDICAMENTS
THIRTY-FIVE AND A HALF CONSPIRACIES
THIRTY-SIX AND A HALF MOTIVES
SINS OF THE FATHER (novella)
Asheville Brewing
Rom com series
Cowritten with A.R. Casella
Any Luck at All
Better Luck Next Time
Getting Lucky
(January 12, 2021)
Bad Luck Club
(March 2021)
The Wedding Pact
(Humorous contemporary romance)
Buried in Secrets: Carly Moore #4 Page 31