A Cry in the Dark

by Denise Grover Swank

  I jumped, pressing a hand to my chest. “Do you always sneak up on people like that?”

  “It is my office.”

  I pressed send on the email and shut down the page, then made sure I’d signed out of Charlene’s social media accounts.

  “Just having a moment,” I said, signing out of the VPN and closing that page too. “It’s been a rough twenty-four hours.” I closed my notebook and returned it to my purse.

  He watched me for a second, as though scrutinizing my answer, but I didn’t owe him anything…other than what it cost to fix my car.

  “Do you have an estimate yet?”

  He leaned into the doorframe. “Not entirely. It looks like the oil pan was rusted out and something punctured it. The hole was small enough that it wouldn’t have leaked out all at once. If you’d been driving for a few hours, the puncture could have happened during the drive and the oil might have finished leaking out at the overlook.” He paused. “You could have checked the oil in the morning before you took off and your dipstick would have read fine, so it’s not a matter of you lettin’ the oil run too low.”

  I gave a small nod. “Thank you for that. Believe it or not, it makes me feel better.” I grimaced. “So how much will it cost?”

  “Well, we found some other things too. Your timing belt needs to be changed and your brakes are about shot. Did you notice any problems on the hills?”

  I grimaced. I had.

  He must have taken my expression as my answer. “If you don’t change the timing belt, it could make it to Wilmington, but I’m hesitant to let you go without fixing the brakes. It definitely won’t pass any state inspection if you end up movin’ to North Carolina.”

  My heart sank.

  “I’ve gotta search around for parts,” he said, “but since it’s a Honda, it’s gonna cost you more.”

  “Of course,” I said in a dry tone. When he looked insulted, I said, “That wasn’t an insinuation that I thought you were cheating me. Just that I know some car parts run higher than others. Give me a ballpark estimate.”

  He hesitated. “Twenty-five hundred.” Then he added, “I’ll throw in the tow for free and cut as many costs as I can on the brakes. Like I said, I don’t feel good about letting you drive down the mountain as they are now.”

  Holding on to the counter, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them. “I don’t have that kind of money.”

  “I might be able to find some used parts to lower the cost.”

  “By how much?”

  “Maybe a few hundred.”

  The now-familiar burning in my eyes was back, but crying wasn’t going to help a damn thing.

  “I’ll be upfront,” he said. “A good portion of that is labor, but Junior…he’s got a wife and kids. I’d give you a discount on labor, but he needs the money.”

  I shook my head. “No. I’d never ask you for a discount on labor. If you do the work, you deserve to be paid for it, and of course I’d never expect Junior or his family to go without.”

  “I’ll get you a revised estimate,” he said, his voice softening.

  I slid off the stool. “Thank you. Well, I’d better go. I’m pulling a double today.”

  I started for the door, but he said, “There’s one more thing.”

  When I stopped and turned back to him, he looked uncomfortable. “I want to assure you that we’ll take care of this part ourselves.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  He grimaced. “Junior discovered that your car was broken into last night.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  “Did you have anything of value in it? If so, my insurance should cover it. The expense to fix the trunk as well.”

  “The trunk?”

  “They pried it open.”

  I sagged into the desk.

  “You okay?” he asked, sounding concerned.

  “I don’t know,” I said, putting a hand to my forehead. “Do you have security cameras?”

  He snorted. “It’s Drum.”

  I shook my head, my irritation growing. “From what little experience I’ve had in Drum, they seem warranted.”

  “There weren’t any cameras,” he said.

  I found myself thinking of Seth, and of the video footage he had likely taken. Without knowing where to look for the footage, I was at a severe disadvantage—even though I hadn’t looked yet, I was pretty sure there were dozens, if not hundreds of camera companies with online storage—but I was hoping there might be some clue at Hank’s house.

  “Carly?” Wyatt asked, his voice rising with expectation, and I realized I’d missed whatever he’d said.

  “I’m sorry. What?”

  “I said, do you want me to call the sheriff and file a report or do you want to do it yourself?”

  If I reported the break-in, would it absolve me in the eyes of the sheriff’s department, or would it only add to their suspicions? “Um…I need to think about it.”

  “You don’t want to file a report?”

  “I don’t know.” When he gave me a curious look, I added, “I’m not sure it’s worth the hassle. I didn’t have much in there, and the thought of dealing with the insurance company…” I waved my hand in a vague gesture.

  “My insurance should cover it all.”

  But he’d have to report it to the authorities. “I still haven’t decided if I want to move forward with the repairs. If I end up trashing the car, there’s no sense fixing it.”

  “True, but you can take the check and apply it to the new one.”

  “But that could take weeks,” I said, “and I need a car sooner than that.” I shook my head. “Don’t do anything for now. I wouldn’t want your premiums to go up for no reason. I’ll give it more thought.”

  He didn’t respond, just watched me with an emotionless expression. “Okay. I’ll work on gettin’ that estimate to you, but it might not be until tomorrow.”

  Nodding, I bolted out the door.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The smart thing to do would be to junk the car. Move forward with my plan to go somewhere with good public transportation. But not Wilmington. Even if it did have a good bus system, I’d already told Wyatt and Ruth about my original plan.

  When I walked into the tavern, Max was behind the bar, dumping a container of ice into the bin. He glanced past me to the open doorway. “Where’s Ruth?”

  Had he been hoping she’d change her mind about working the lunch shift? “She had to stay longer in Greeneville, so I caught a ride back from someone else.”

  He leaned a forearm on the counter. “Who the hell did you get a ride back with?”

  Would Max be pissed that I’d come back to town with his estranged brother? But it seemed there was little point in equivocating. There was a good chance someone had seen me either in Wyatt’s truck or walking from his shop. “Wyatt.”

  It took him a full second to respond. “Wyatt?” His shoulders flexed. “What the hell was he doin’ down in Greeneville, and how in the hell did he find you?”

  “Ruth and I weren’t completely truthful with you earlier. I went to Greeneville with her so I could see Hank Chalmers.”

  He stared at me for several seconds, still in shock. “What on earth for?”

  “I had to tell him about Seth’s last moments.” I gave him a weak smile. “I thought he’d want to know.”

  He looked perplexed that I’d do such a thing. “It could have waited, Carly. You could have told him when he got back home.”

  “That’s just it, Max. He wouldn’t be coming home if I hadn’t gone to see him. Seth was supposed to pick him up tomorrow. And since he had no one to bring him home, they were going to put him in rehab.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Why are you sayin’ all that in the past tense?”

  “Because I’m gonna bring him home tomorrow instead.”

  “You’re gonna do what, now?” he asked, wide-eyed. “How are you gonna do that when you don’t even have a wor
king car?”

  “I planned on borrowing one,” I said. “But it turns out I don’t need to. Your brother showed up at the hospital, and he offered to give me a ride to the hospital and back in the morning. Still, I’m going to need tomorrow morning off and likely part of the afternoon so I can get Hank settled in at home.”

  “Who’s going to take care of him after you get him settled?” Max asked.

  I hesitated, unsure how he was going to take this. “I’m going to stay with him.”

  He stared at me like I’d told him I was becoming a Hare Krishna. “Let me get this straight. You’re going to stay at Hank Chalmers’ house? And take care of him?”

  “Only for a few days,” I said. “Until his home health nurse shows up at the end of the week.”

  “Who’s gonna watch him while you’re workin’?” Panic spread across his face. “You’re not quittin’, are you? I’m not ashamed to say we’d like you to stay around longer. You caught on faster than any other new hire I’ve had.”

  “No,” I hastily said. “At least not yet. I need the money to fix my car, plus everything else. I’ll figure something out.” I said the last part with unintended desperation.

  Max’s face softened, and he gave me a warm smile. “You’re a good person, Carly. And Hank needs our help. We’ll make it work.”

  “Thanks, Max.” I liked that he said we, like he wanted to be part of it.

  “Go get you a new shirt in the back,” he said, glancing down at my borrowed button-down. “In fact, take a few with you. I have no idea what kind of laundry situation Hank’s got goin’ on out there.”

  I headed to the back. Tiny was working the kitchen again with Bitty, an average-sized older woman who didn’t seem as friendly as the rest of the staff. I suspected she’d heard that I was a person of interest.

  She wasn’t the only one.

  When we opened at noon, there was a crowd lined up to come in and plenty of them gave me suspicious looks. Most them treated me like I had the plague, but they weren’t turning me away as their waitress. They’d come to gawk at me, after all, and there was no one else to wait on them. A few people tried to broach the subject of the murder, but I ignored their questions or deflected by saying I needed to get to the kitchen to check on their order.

  I was relieved when Jerry showed up close to the end of the lunch rush, choosing a seat at the bar. Part of me had worried something might have happened to him.

  “Hey, Jerry,” I said when I got a chance to check on him. “I’m happy to see you.”

  Keeping his gaze on the counter, he asked for water and a hamburger. I added a side of fries before passing the order on to the kitchen. When I served him his food, I pretended it had been a mistake.

  “I can take them back if you like,” I said with a warm smile, “but we’ll just have to throw them away.” I lowered my voice, pretending I didn’t want Max to hear me. “You’d be doin’ me a huge favor if you keep them. I really need this job right now, and I’m afraid Max and Tiny will think I’m inept.”

  He studied me with a serious expression. “I’ll take them,” he said slowly.

  “Thanks,” I said with a warm smile. “Are you doin’ okay after what happened at the motel?”

  He blinked at me. “What are you talkin’ about?”

  My brow shot up in confusion. “Seth Chalmers’ murder?” When he didn’t respond, I asked, “Did you see or hear anything?”

  He picked up a fry and kept his gaze fixed on his food. “I woke up when the deputy knocked on my door. I didn’t see nothin’.”

  I hesitated, wondering if I should press him further. “Big Joe said you took off for a while.”

  “My place was too noisy.” He reached for the ketchup bottle. “I like the quiet.”

  “I like the quiet too,” I said, knowing I’d been dismissed. “You let me know if you need anything. Okay, Jerry?”

  Despite my chilly reception from the other customers, I was friendly to everyone and offered lots of smiles. By the time the crowd thinned out a few hours later, I’d made about thirty dollars in tips—not as much as I should have earned if they’d tipped 20% (not that I’d gotten 20% the night before with a friendlier crowd)—but more than I’d expected, considering. Max told me it was one of his biggest lunch crowds in ages. He still looked dog-tired, despite having drunk a vat of coffee, but he seemed pleased by the increase in revenue.

  When Detective Daniels walked in, the only customer we had left was Jerry, who was nursing his water while he watched Judge Judy. The detective’s beady eyes scanned the room, pausing on Jerry briefly before landing on me.

  My heart stopped. Was he here to arrest me?

  Jerry had looked like he was in no hurry to leave, but he quickly put some money on the counter and bolted out the door.

  I was standing behind the counter with Max. “Why did Jerry leave so quickly?”

  “Don’t know. He’s always had anxiety issues, but he became extra skittish after someone beat him up about a year ago.”

  I wanted to press Max for more information, but the detective started walking toward me.

  “Ms. Moore,” he said, resting his hand on the counter.

  “Detective Daniels,” I said with forced cheerfulness. “As you can see, I’m back in Drum, safe and sound.”

  “So I see. I’d like to get your formal statement now.” He shot Max a questioning glance. “Is this a good time?”

  Max turned to me, giving me a look that suggested it was my call.

  “Yeah,” I said with a tight smile. “Now’s good.”

  “Is there somewhere private we can go?” he asked.

  Max looked around the empty room. “This won’t take long, right? There’s no one else here at the moment, so how about I put up the closed sign?”

  A smug look covered Detective Daniels’s face. “The amount of time it takes is entirely dependent on Ms. Moore.”

  Without giving me time to respond, he walked toward the same table we’d used in the middle of the night and pulled some papers out of his bag.

  I cast another glance at Max, and he reached out and squeezed my hand. Although it didn’t really reassure me, I was grateful for his support. I squeezed back, then headed around the counter and took a seat across from the detective. Daniels handed me some official paperwork and told me to fill out my statement from the night before, adding in anything else I might have remembered.

  Max headed to the back and told us to let him know when we were finished.

  It made me nervous to handwrite my statement. It meant they’d have a copy of my handwriting to analyze. Even if I tried to mask it, there were experts who could detect such things. It would be one more piece of evidence tying me to Caroline Blakely.

  I didn’t waste any time writing down my very brief account. I said that Seth had asked me to tell his grandfather that he loved him and he was sorry, and left it at that. At least I’d have an explanation if Detective Daniels figured out that I’d gone to see Hank.

  When I finished, he read it over, then looked up at me. “You’re sure you don’t remember anything else?”

  I gave him an innocent look and slowly shook my head. “No. That’s it.”

  He stared at me for several long seconds before I asked, “Is there a problem, Deputy?”

  “Detective,” he said in a short tone. “And no. If that’s all, I guess we’re done.” But he remained in his seat.

  “I need to get ready for the evening crowd,” I said, getting to my feet.

  “Just one more thing,” he said, finally standing up. He took a step toward me and invaded my personal space. “Where did you say your car was?”

  “At Wyatt Drummond’s garage.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  I started to head to the back, but he called after me. “Have you had any trouble with it since it’s been there?”

  Did he know about the break-in? I’d asked Wyatt to keep quiet about it, but had he told the sheriff anyway?

  Turning b
ack to face him, I said, “Seeing as how it’s still broken down, I’d guess I’m having all sorts of trouble with it.”

  A hint of a smile lifted his lips. “True enough. But no other trouble that you know of?”

  “I haven’t seen my car since Wyatt dropped me off at Max’s Tavern’s parking lot yesterday early evening, but I’ll be sure to let you know if he doesn’t repair it to my satisfaction.”

  He only made it a couple of steps toward the door before he turned around to face me. “Oh,” he said, “one more thing. You say you’re from Atlanta, but you don’t have much of an accent.”

  Shit. Was he suspicious about my past?

  I tried to look more friendly with this one. “That’s because I moved to Atlanta from Michigan, Detective. My accent is a strange hybrid of both.”

  More accurately a hybrid of my East Coast schooling and my Texas roots.

  He nodded. “We truly are a meltin’ pot, are we not?”

  “Greatest country in the world.”

  He nodded again. “God bless the U.S. of A.”

  I gave him a little wave. “You have a good day, Detective.” With that, I headed to the back before he had a chance to “one more thing” me again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  After I pulled myself together, I found Max sitting at the desk in his office and told him the detective had left.

  He swiveled his chair to face me in the doorway. “How’d it go?”

  “Fine, I guess. He seems a little suspicious of me, although I have no idea why.” Which wasn’t precisely true. People in Drum didn’t seem too keen on outsiders, and no one here really knew me. Easier to suspect a stranger than a neighbor.

  Max grimaced. “I called Marco while you were giving your statement. He said they’re trying to work up a case against you.”

  My throat tightened. “Do they have any evidence?”

  In my mind, I saw my gun and my key fob. Those casings that may have been deliberately left behind. They didn’t even need to pin it on me. All they needed to do was attract the wrong kind of attention.

  “No. It’s all circumstantial. I’ve given my own statement about walkin’ you to your room after you got off work last night. I made it very clear they’re barkin’ up the wrong tree.”