Unless they arrested him for something.
“Do you think that’s why Marco hasn’t shown up yet?” I asked. “Because he knew and he didn’t want to tip us off?”
Max inhaled deep, then released his breath. “Four months ago, I would have said no, but after Lula…” He cleared his throat. “Things haven’t been the same.” He nodded. “Looks like that family you were talkin’ to is ready for their check.”
I swallowed my anxiety and hurried over to Annette and her family to hand them their check. Several other tables needed my attention, but Ruth stopped me and asked, “Why were the sheriff’s deputies here, and why did Wyatt leave with them?”
“They said they wanted to ask him some questions.”
“About what?” she asked with a suspicious glare.
“Carly, are you gonna get those drinks or not?” one of my customers shouted.
“I’ll tell you what I know later,” I said before I hurried over to take care of their refills, keeping an eye on Molly, who was busy trying to keep up. If the deputies coming in to ask Wyatt to their headquarters had her concerned, she didn’t let on.
A half hour later, Marco walked in wearing his uniform and carrying a duffel bag. He shot a tortured glance at Max, and then they both headed straight for his office. I dashed over to intercept Marco before he disappeared into the back.
“Hey,” I said, stopping him by placing a hand on his chest. “What’s going on? Why did two deputies show up and take Wyatt to the sheriff’s station for questioning about Heather?”
His mouth was pinched. “I need to talk to Max,” he said, leaving it at that, then pushed past me toward Max’s office.
“What in the hell’s goin’ on?” Ruth asked behind me. “And don’t you dare try tellin’ me you don’t know.”
I dragged her to the storeroom so Tiny wouldn’t hear us. “The deputies said they wanted to question Wyatt about Heather.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Why?” Then her eyes flew wide. “Oh, my God. Was she buried out there?”
“Shh!” I whisper-shouted. “I don’t know. The sheriff’s deputies didn’t say anything about the body. Only that they wanted to talk to him about Heather.”
“She was out there,” she said, tears filling her eyes. “She’s been out there all this time.”
We were silent for a moment, because I was thinking the exact same thing.
“Do they think he’s involved with her death?” I asked. “Or do you think they’re hoping he’ll help them pin it on Bart?”
She released a bitter laugh. “They’ll never try to pin anything on Bart.”
That’s what I was afraid of too.
“He needs a lawyer, Ruth,” I said. “I told him not to answer any questions without an attorney, but he said he had nothing to hide.”
Her lips pursed. “Sounds like Wyatt.”
Only the more I thought about the whole situation, it didn’t sound like the Wyatt I’d gotten to know at all. Ruth had been familiar with pre-prison Wyatt. I’d gotten to know the post-prison version, and Post-Prison Wyatt wasn’t trusting of anything. He certainly wasn’t free with information.
So why would he just go like that?
Ruth took a deep breath, then blew it out. “Hidin’ in this back room isn’t gonna do anyone a lick of good. Let’s get back to work.” She started to walk out, then turned to face me in the doorway, blocking it. “Oh, and let’s keep this from Molly as long as possible. It seems like she’s workin’ out after all, and I don’t want to go scarin’ her off.”
I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure lying was the best course. Nevertheless, it was her first day, which meant she didn’t need to be privy to everything going on in the tavern.
Max still wasn’t behind the bar when we headed back to the dining room, and Molly looked more frazzled than she had before, not that I blamed her. The entire floor staff had temporarily abandoned her.
Ruth took over behind the bar, so I loosely covered her section along with my own for the next few minutes before Max returned, his face devoid of expression.
I only hoped this didn’t set him to drinking again.
Marco emerged a few minutes later, wearing jeans and a snug-fitting black T-shirt, and headed behind the bar to start serving drinks with Max, which surprised me at first, before I remembered what Marco had said about working as a bartender with Max in college. Before Bart and Emily Drummond had called Max home during his last semester of his senior year.
He’d been called home because of Wyatt’s arrest. Wyatt had broken into the car repair shop he now owned to steal a baseball his father had sold to the previous owner. The theft charges had been dropped, but he’d gone to jail for driving under the influence. Heather had been with Wyatt, but she’d left town before she could be called to testify against him.
Or maybe she’d never left Drummond land this whole time.
Either way, if her bones had been found, it didn’t look good for Wyatt, even if I had trouble believing he would have hurt her.
I didn’t have time to talk to Max or Marco because the dinner crowd left and more of the construction guys showed up. I headed over to check on Molly since most of the orders were drinks now. I was ready to fend off a flurry of questions about the sheriff’s deputies, but she seemed more taken with the new staff member who’d shown up.
“Damn,” she said under her breath, keeping her eyes on Marco, who was pulling draft beers. “That is one mighty fine-lookin’ man.”
“He’s not a long-term sort of guy, if that’s what you’re lookin’ for.” I couldn’t ignore the unsettled feeling in my gut. I’d spoken the truth, but for some reason, saying the words felt like a betrayal.
“I know I should be lookin’ for long term at my age, but short term will do,” she said, practically salivating. “I’ve had a long dry spell. The options
