“Not happening.”
A dark look crossed his face. “You let Marco drive you around.”
“Well, Marco just happened to be a sheriff’s deputy on medical leave, and he also wasn’t the subject of my investigation. Apples and oranges.”
“I promised Hank I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
“Guess you shouldn’t have made that promise,” I said, closing my notebook and slipping it into my bag.
“You didn’t eat anything.”
“I was too busy taking notes, and while you may have promised Hank to feed me, I never promised I’d eat.” I spun and headed for the front door.
“Where the hell are you goin’?”
“To save your ass.”
Chapter Nine
Something about Wyatt’s story didn’t feel right, although I couldn’t put my finger on what. But while I suspected he was fudging about something, I still didn’t believe he was a killer. Why would he have murdered his girlfriend? He’d chosen not to fight any of the charges, so her testimony against him would have been a moot point.
While I couldn’t help admitting I felt a special thrill about investigating this case—I really, really hoped it led back to Bart in some way—I missed working with Marco. He’d been a great partner, and I’d felt safe with him. I decided to drop by the resort excavation site and kill two birds with one stone.
The resort site was at the northwestern tip of Drummond land, accessed from Highway 25, the road that cut through Drum if you went north, and North Carolina if you drove south. They’d created a gravel road for the construction traffic, so I turned off on it and drove a good half mile until I hit the mostly empty gravel parking lot. A few sheriff cars were parked there, and I could see a couple of deputies standing next to the yellow crime scene tape.
I smiled to myself as I got out of my car and walked over to Marco. He and the other deputy looked as bored as any two people would if asked to babysit dirt. Because that’s what it was now that the bones had been removed. Behind them sat multiple bulldozers and earthmoving equipment, all parked around a large rectangular hole in the ground, about ten feet deep on one side, and shallower on the other.
Marco’s face lit up when he saw me. “Carly, what are you doin’ here?”
“I was drivin’ by and thought I’d stop and check on you. Make sure you hadn’t died of boredom.”
The other deputy, a young man who looked fresh out of high school, laughed. “Not yet, but we’re on life support.”
“You think they’re gonna cut you loose soon?” I asked.
“God, I sure as hell hope so,” the younger man said.
“Deputy,” Marco admonished, giving him a stern look. “Language.”
Chagrin covered the deputy’s face. “Ma’am, I apologize.”
I laughed. “Please, I’ve heard worse at the tavern.”
“You work at Max’s?” he asked, perking up. “Then you must be Carly.”
I blinked in surprise. “You’ve heard of me?”
He grinned. “We know all about you.”
Turning to Marco, I cocked an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Marco rolled his eyes. “Don’t you have somewhere you need to be, Deputy?”
“Nope,” he laughed. “I was told to stick with you.”
“Walk the perimeter and make sure no one’s tryin’ to get under the crime scene tape,”
Marco said in a harsh tone, but the deputy only grinned.
“Yes, sir.”
“What’s he talkin’ about?” I asked as he walked around the outside of the tape.
“They know about you from the Carson Purdy case. Because you saved me.”
“Are you sure that’s it?” I asked, not really sure why I was pressing or what, exactly, I was hoping he would say.
He shook his head. “They also know we’re friends, yet they don’t quite believe it. They can’t make sense of me stickin’ around you for so much longer than I do the other women in my life.” He made a face. “Ignore them. What brings you by, anyway? Wantin’ a look at the hole?”
I grimaced. “Maybe? But that’s not the only reason.”
“That construction guy hasn’t given you any more trouble, has he?”
“What?” It took me a second to realize what he was talking about. “No. I haven’t seen him since the night Wyatt punched him.” I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “Which brings me to the other reason I’m here: Wyatt dropped by Hank’s this morning. Lookin’ for me.”
Marco’s eyes darkened. “What for?”
“He wants me to help clear his name. While he wasn’t arrested, he’s sure he’s suspect number one.”
“He is,” Marco said with a frown. “How’d he take it when you turned him down?”
“Well…”
Disappointment filled his eyes, but it quickly disappeared. “You didn’t turn him down.”
“No.”
He nodded and turned his gaze to the giant hole in the earth. “Why are you helpin’ him?”
“Because I don’t think he killed her.” When he didn’t answer, I said, “Do you think he did it?”
“No.”
“But you’re not happy I’m lookin’ into it.”
“I’m not,” he said. “It’s an active investigation, for one thing, which means you could get slapped with a charge of obstructin’ an investigation.”
“They can do that?” I asked in surprise.
“Yeah, Carly,” he said, sounding irritated. “They can do that.”
“Why are you mad at me?” I asked, trying not to sound hurt.
“I’m not mad at you. I’m pissed at him for puttin’ you in this position. He had no right to ask you, Carly, but he was countin’ on you bein’ too nice to say no.”
“Is that why you think I’m doin’ it?” I asked, starting to get pissed myself. “Because I’m too nice to say no?”
He gave me a sad smile. “No. I think you’d say no if you didn’t want to do it.”
“But you’re disappointed in me for saying yes.”
“No,” he said, but then he shrugged. “Yes. Look, I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
He had a point—he’d been there to help me pick up the pieces of my heart after it had been broken in December.
“I have an ulterior motive for doin’ this, Marco,” I said in a whisper. “I know
