One Foot in the Grave: Carly Moore #3

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One Foot in the Grave: Carly Moore #3 Page 33

by Denise Grover Swank


  “Of course I respect you. How can I not? But you can’t expect me to share everything I know just to make things more equal between us. Sure, your secret is huge, but mine? They affect more than just me. More than just my family. To expose them, I hurt far too many people.”

  “And you don’t trust me not to hurt them?”

  “No. You’re on a one-woman mission to bring my father down, no matter the cost. Look at what you’ve already paid.”

  “What exactly have I paid?” I demanded. “A relationship with you?”

  He turned to me and took my hand. “What we had was great, Carly. We could be great, if you’d only just let things be.”

  I snatched my hand away from him. “Like you’ve done since you came home from prison?”

  “Carly.”

  I turned into his driveway and started down the lane to his house. “So here’s what I’m hearing from you. I need to shut up and sit down and stop making waves.” He started to speak, but I snapped, “No. I’m not done.”

  He crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat.

  “You say you like me because I’m different than every other woman in this town, but you want to stifle the very thing that you like about me. Do you see how screwed up that is?” His house appeared in front of us, and I pulled into the drive and put my car in park.

  “Oh,” he said. “Am I allowed to speak now?”

  I fought hard to keep from rolling my eyes.

  “I like you for more than that, Carly, which is why I need you to stop this insane mission to take my father down. Don’t you see how good we are together?”

  “I’m attracted to you,” I said. “And a year ago, I could have turned a blind eye and assured myself that I was but one woman and there was nothing I could do. I would have enjoyed my peaceful, idyllic life with a man who claimed to love me, all under the shadow of a tyrant, and pretended everything was okay. But I am not that woman anymore, Wyatt. That was Caroline Blakely, who chose to live her life with blinders on. I’m Charlene Moore now, and the blinders are off. And they’re never going back on.”

  His jaw clenched. “Have you ever been happy, Carly? Really happy? I know I haven’t, but I got a glimpse of it when I was with you. I liked it. What’s wrong with bein’ happy?”

  “You know I’ve never been truly happy, because I’ve told you my deepest, darkest secrets. And maybe I would have known that about you if you’d shared yourself too. Your secrets are warning signs flashing in neon lights telling my psyche that I can’t trust you. I need security in my relationships.”

  “You know I can’t do that,” he said, getting defensive. “There’s just too much.”

  “I know,” I said, my voice cracking with emotion. “Which is why you and I will never, ever work.”

  “Carly.”

  “I would love you, of that I’m fairly sure, if I could pretend that Rome wasn’t burning around us, but I could never feel secure. I’d never feel safe with you.”

  “You think I’d hurt you?” he asked in horror.

  “Physical pain isn’t the worst kind, and you know it. I couldn’t live my life always wondering what else you were hiding from me.”

  “Everyone has secrets. Everyone.”

  “True,” I said. “But yours are way bigger than most people’s.”

  “So you refuse to give us a chance because of my father?”

  “No,” I said softly. “You chose that.” I took a breath. “It’s not fair for me to make demands of you. You need to do what you need to do. But at the same time, you can’t ask me to give up the things I need in a relationship. At the core of it, we need different things to make us feel secure, things neither one of us is willing or capable of giving.”

  “So that’s it. We’re really done?”

  “We were really done last December, Wyatt. You just chose not to believe it.”

  He sat back in his seat. “I love you, Carly.”

  Pain filled my heart and I fought back tears. “We’re not right for each other, Wyatt. Don’t you see that?”

  “Let me guess,” he said in a dark tone. “Marco is.”

  “I think maybe he would be,” I said, holding back a sob, “but what I said yesterday in the Greener Pastures’ parking lot is true. I’m incapable of fully trusting anyone anymore, and without trust, there’s nothing.”

  “And I was the final straw,” he said with a bit of defiance.

  “Now that I’m further away from it, I can see that you really thought you were protecting me, but it’s like a child who catches a butterfly and holds it too tight. You were holding on too tight, and I saw it as deception. I still do, truth be told.”

  “Well, then I guess that’s that.” He opened the car door and placed a foot on his driveway.

  “We’re not done, Wyatt,” I said in an even tone. “You did promise me answers, and I intend to get them. I realize part of the problem might be that you know so many things and you’re so used to hiding them, you don’t know where to start. So in the future, I’m going to come to you with specific questions and you’ll answer them.”

  “I’ll tell you what I can.”

  “No. You’ll fully answer the question asked.” I sat back in my seat, suddenly exhausted. “Now we’re done. I’m going home.”

  He started to get out, then stopped, turning back to face me with soft eyes. “You think you’re tough, and you are, but I see a woman who needs to be held. Needs to be loved. You deserve the kind of love I can give you.”

  “And if you loved me at all, you’d see I’d never feel truly loved until my deepest core needs were met. Something you’re still incapable of giving me.” I looked him directly in the eyes. “Good night, Wyatt.”

  He got out and headed to his front door, turning back to watch me as I left.

  I headed home, trying to push all thoughts of what could have been from my mind.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Marco didn’t call, but I was still up when his Explorer pulled into Hank’s driveway a little after four a.m.

  I ran out the door to greet him, and he got out of his truck, shaking his head.

  “You should be in bed, Carly,” he said softly when he reached me at the bottom of the steps. “You had a hell of a night.”

  I shivered. “So did you.”

  He ran his hands down my bare arms to warm me up, frowning when he saw the bruise on the side of my face. “How are you feelin’? I think we should run you down to Greeneville in the morning to see a doctor.”

  “I’m fine, just a little banged up. Are you headed home?”

  “For a few hours of sleep. I need to head to the station in Ewing to give an official statement in the morning. You told me to call, but I didn’t have access to a phone, so I decided to stop by. I’d hoped you’d be asleep, to be honest.” he asked.

  “I waited up to hear from you, and I’m nervous. I have to make a full statement too. Should I get an attorney?” My stomach clenched at the thought.

  “No,” he said, enveloping me in a hug. “You’re not in any trouble. And I suspect Abby will be able to make a plea deal. Detective White thinks she can be beneficial, and she’s pullin’ lots of strings to get her off with just probation. Paul had Abby do a few things over the years that Detective White is hoping will help her root out more corruption. And it doesn’t hurt that Max hooked her up with the Drummond family attorney.”

  I pulled away. “Oh, God. She won’t owe Bart a favor, will she?”

  “No. I’ve already asked. Wyatt’s covering the expense.”

  “And where did he get all of this money he keeps doling out?” I asked. “Seth’s funeral couldn’t have been cheap.”

  He sighed. “Another mystery to solve.”

  A new fear hit me. “Does the thought of goin’ after Bart worry you? Do you want to let it go? Cleaning up the sheriff’s department is dangerous enough. You don’t need to deal with my personal vendetta too.”

  He slowly shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t be
surprised if they’re intertwined. Besides, his threat is still hangin’ over your head. We’ll find a way to bring him down.”

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded. “I won’t be able to sit with you when you give your statement, but I’ll be outside the room. Just answer the questions as truthfully as possible, and you’ll be okay.”

  “What does ‘as truthfully as possible’ mean?”

  He hesitated. “I would never tell you what to say in a statement—that would be illegal—but if you were to include anything about your vendetta against Bart… let’s just say the corruption hasn’t been rooted out of the department yet.”

  I nodded. “I understand.”

  He studied me in the moonlight for a moment, saying nothing. There was something beautiful about that moment, something pure and unbroken, and I didn’t want it to end. But finally he said, “I better head home.”

  Still, he didn’t make any moves to go.

  I didn’t want him to leave. I needed him. Yet I had nothing to offer him but my friendship, and I’d already abused that privilege.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, staring into his eyes. “Thank you for your help. Thank you for your understanding.”

  A soft smile lit up his eyes and he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “Thank you for being my friend.”

  Then he got in his SUV and left.

  The next morning, I woke to the sound of a car pulling onto Hank’s land. I quickly jumped out of bed and grabbed my chunky cardigan before running out to see who it was.

  Hank was sitting in his chair on the porch, nursing a cup of coffee.

  Abby had pulled her pickup truck into the driveway, stopping about ten feet from the house. She got out of the truck, holding a wicker laundry basket. “I hope it’s okay that I stopped by.”

  “Of course,” I said hesitantly. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was angry with me. Her chances of getting out of this free and clear might have been damaged by Paul’s suicide, and maybe even by the fact that Max and Marco had shared all the details with the sheriff’s department before she could.

  “I come in peace,” she said, lifting the basket slightly.

  I walked to the bottom of the steps, realizing Hank hadn’t said a word.

  “Hank, this is Dr. Abby Donahey, the Drum veterinarian. Abby, this is Hank Chalmers, my…” To call him my landlord and roommate would almost be an insult. Friend didn’t cut it either. Friend barely held up as a description for what I had with Marco, but what I had with Hank went beyond that. “My family,” I said, with a lump in my throat.

  She nodded. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Chalmers.”

  “Call me Hank,” he said. “Everybody does.”

  “Okay, then. Hank it is.” She took several steps closer, turning her attention to me. “I wanted to thank you for helpin’ me.”

  “I’m not sure I did,” I admitted. “I said I’d keep your admission secret until you talked to a lawyer, but it got out anyway. I’m worried it will hurt your chances of getting a good plea bargain.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said. “And I’m glad the truth is finally out. Paul hung it over my head every time he wanted something.” She gave me a soft smile. “After this is over, I’ll really be free. Paul can’t keep me in Drum anymore.”

  “So you’re leavin’?” I asked.

  She laughed. “That’s the thing. I don’t think I will. It’s just nice knowin’ that I’m only here because I choose to be, you know?”

  I nodded. Sadly, I did.

  “In any case,” she said, holding out the basket. “I’m going to be dealin’ with all of this legal mess, though my attorney thinks that what I know about Paul will help me get off with just probation. But he thinks I need to stay somewhere else for my safety, and Detective White has given her permission. I’ll be back once all the buzz dies down. In the meantime, I was wondering if you could foster some of those kittens you were playin’ with the other day.” She set the basket on the ground and I saw two kittens, the gray one I’d held at her office and a black and white one.

  Happiness rushed through me as I scooped them both up and held them to my chest.

  “I take it that’s a yes?” she asked.

  I turned to Hank, who was grinning.

  “Anything that makes you that happy is an automatic yes,” he said. He glanced up at Abby. “We’ll take them.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “I got someone to watch the others. You can bring them in when I get back to schedule them to be spayed. I left some food and kitty litter underneath the towel. You can get the basket to me when I get back.” She took a few steps backward. “Thanks again, Carly.”

  I nodded. “If you ever need someone to talk to,” I said, “I’m a great listener and Watson’s makes some pretty decent coffee.”

  Abby smiled. “I’d like that.”

  As she backed out of the driveway, I cuddled and baby-talked to the kittens, both of which purred.

  “You gonna let me see one of them furballs?” Hank asked.

  Grinning, I climbed up the steps. “Which one do you want?”

  “Do they have names?”

  “No,” I said, “but they’re both girls.”

  “Which one is your favorite?” he asked.

  “Seems wrong to choose,” I said, but I held the gray one a little closer.

  He grinned and reached out his hands. “Give me that black and white one.”

  I handed him the kitten, and he held her up so they were face-to-face. “Seems like you just found your new home, little one.” He settled her on his lap and began to stroke her head and back. “They need names,” he said gruffly.

  I took a seat on the top step of the porch and put the kitten on my lap. “We could give them matchy names. Like Sugar and Spice.” I made a face. “That’s terrible.”

  He snorted but didn’t otherwise comment. Instead, he seemed to forget about naming the kittens for the moment, sighing loud enough to have me looking back at him, arching a brow in question.

  “Tell me about what happened last night.”

  So I told him, and by the time I stopped, his kitten had fallen asleep.

  “You sure you ain’t in any trouble?” he asked.

  “Marco assures me I’m fine.”

  “That boy cares about you.”

  “I know,” I said, keeping my gaze on the kitten in my lap.

  “No, girl. He cares about you.”

  I lifted my gaze to his. “I know that too, but I can’t be anything but a friend right now. He understands that.”

  He nodded, then said, “I’m gonna tell Wyatt I don’t need him payin’ for Ginger to come out here anymore.”

  “Hank,” I said, jerking upright. “Don’t do that.” I liked knowing that Ginger was keeping an eye on him when I couldn’t.

  “She’s working at the tavern now, and I can afford to pay her for a day or two a week. We don’t need Wyatt.” I heard the gravity in his voice, and I realized this was Hank’s way of taking sides and making a stand.

  “Hank, please don’t do that on my account. You and Wyatt have been friends for years.”

  He nodded, his eyes glassy. “We’ve been friends, but we ain’t family.”

  My throat burned and my chin quivered.

  “I’ve declared you as kin,” he said, his voice tight, “but now I’m declarin’ you as mine. You may not bear my name, but you’re like my daughter all the same.”

  “Hank.” I reached over and put my hand on his knee.

  He smiled down at me. “You’ve filled my life with love and happiness, girl. I never thought that would happen again.” He nodded. “Thank you.”

  A tear fell down my cheek. “You have to know you’re like a father to me. I love you, Hank.”

  He nodded, glancing down at the kitten. “I love you too.” He sniffed and his tone turned gruff. “What’s a man gotta do to get breakfast around here?”

  Releasing a laugh, I got to my feet and placed my kitten on his lap next to h
er sister. “Coming right up.”

  I headed into the house, stopping in the doorway to stare down at the gruff man who had more love for me in his pinky finger than my father ever had, and I vowed I’d do everything in my power to protect him.

  No matter the price.

  Buried in Secrets

  Carly Moore #4

  October 27, 2020

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  Also by Denise Grover Swank

  Rose And Neely Kate reading order:

  Family Jewels

  Trailer Trash

  For the Birds

  Hell in a Handbasket

  In High Cotton

  Up Shute Creek

  Come Rain or Shine

  Dirty Money

  When the Bough Breaks

  It All Falls Down (January 12, 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 (January 12, 2021)

  Neely Kate Mystery

 

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