His eyes widened. “What?”
As if on cue, Bart’s voice called out from the trees. “Why, is that Carly Moore I spot on my property?”
I gave Marco a tight smile, then turned to face the Drummond patriarch. I hadn’t seen Bart since the meeting he’d summoned me to in his office, and I sure as hell didn’t intend to cower to him. I only hoped I didn’t get Marco in trouble.
“Curiosity got the cat?” Bart asked as he strolled toward us.
“Over an empty hole in the ground?” I asked in a bored tone. “You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. I’m here to see Marco.”
“I heard you two are an item, yet not,” he said, his gaze jumping from me to Marco then back again.
A shiver ran down my back. It didn’t surprise me that Bart was aware of our friendship—he was the kind of man who made it his business to know things—but it was still unnerving. I’d already landed a target on Hank—would my friendship with Marco put him in danger too?
“We’re just friends,” I said.
“Very good friends,” Marco said in a deep voice.
Bart grinned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Relationships these days. All that swipin’ right and left.”
“Not much of that goin’ on in Drum,” I said before I could stop myself. “Not with the limited access to internet and cell phone coverage.”
“Funny you should mention that,” Bart said, his eyes lighting up. “All that’s about to change. I’ve got a commitment from two cell phone carriers to add towers close to the resort. We’ll soon have access to the outside world.”
My blood ran cold. I’d heard rumblings about that before, but the way he said it made it sound like it would be happening sooner rather than later. I knew what he was telling me. Or rather threatening. My anonymity wouldn’t last much longer.
“What are you doin’ back at the crime scene?” Marco asked, and I was sure he used the term crime scene to antagonize Bart.
From the look on Bart’s face, it had worked. But the irritation quickly faded, replaced with the fake-as-could-be pleased look he seemed to wear most of the time. “I’m eager to get construction back on track. What’s the word, Deputy Roland?”
“I’m hearing it should be released any time now.”
“Perhaps you could give them a call and see what’s what?” Bart suggested.
Marco was about to say something when the radio close to his shoulder squawked. He picked up the mic and pressed the button. “Deputy Roland.”
There was a second of static, then a male voice. “Deputy, the all clear has been given for the construction site.”
“Copy that.” Marco hooked his mic back onto his shirt and gave Bart a deadpan look. “Well, what do you know? It’s like you’re psychic.”
Bart smiled. “Oh, a little birdie might have told me the order had been given to release the construction site. You’ll always be a step behind, Marco. Always. Best keep that in mind.” He grabbed the evidence tape and gave it a hard jerk, his eyes glittering with evil.
I was about to blast him when the other deputy rounded the corner and shouted in alarm, “You can’t do that!”
“He can,” Marco said. “We just got the all clear.”
“Carly, would you like to see where the bones were buried?” Bart asked, “Oh, come now. Don’t be shy. Or perhaps you’re frightened,” he cajoled,
I was scared, but not of the hole or the bones. I was scared of what Bart Drummond had up his sleeve now. “Sure,” I said, trying to sound breezy. “Why not?”
“Carly,” Marco warned in a low undertone I was fairly sure Bart couldn’t hear. The radio squawked again, and he cursed under his breath.
Ignoring him, I stepped over the ripped-down yellow tape, toward the right side of the hole.
“I hear the bones were buried over here in that shallower area to the left,” Bart said as I approached, waving his hand in a sweeping motion. “About three feet deep. Why do you think that is?”
“I couldn’t say, Mr. Drummond.”
He smirked. “Mr. Drummond. So respectful.”
I held my tongue. Any answer I gave him would only feed his ego.
“I’m not a law enforcement officer,” Bart said in a slow drawl, “but I would think it meant whoever did it was in a hurry to dispose of her body.”
“I suppose you would know,” I said in a dry tone.
He laughed. “I know you don’t have a high opinion of me, Ms. Moore, but I’m not a stupid man. And only a stupid man would hire an excavation crew to dig in an area where he’d buried someone.”
“Perhaps you didn’t know where she was buried,” I challenged.
“I would make it my business to know where every body on my property was buried,” he said with a gleam in his eyes. “Hypothetically speaking, of course.”
“Let’s not forget that the man who ran your many acres of property was a known killer. Perhaps he buried bodies in locations you’re unaware of.” I gestured to the shallow location. “Case in point.”
He chuckled. “Carson Purdy was not a murderer.”
“I’m sure Bitty, the former cook at the tavern, would disagree. But she can’t since she’s buried in the Drum Cemetery.”
“We have no proof that he killed her,” he scoffed.
“Actually…” I said, tired of this game. “I saw him kill her. And so did Wyatt. Not to mention Carson shot Marco twice and fired at your son in the woods.” Why was I having this conversation with him? It was pointless. “This has been a lovely chat, but I need to be on my way.” I turned to head back to the parking lot.
He called after me, “I want you to tell me what you find out about Heather’s death before you take it to the sheriff’s department.”
I turned back to face him. “Excuse me?”
He took a step closer. “I know you’ll be lookin’ into it. You can’t help yourself. I’m offering you my encouragement and support. In
