“I don’t need to be reminded of your relationship with a criminal,” Wyatt growled.
My brow shot up, and I said in a deadly calm voice, “Be careful, Wyatt. Think very carefully what you say about him and my relationship with him from here on out, or I might not be so inclined to keep helping you.”
Wyatt looked like he was about to choke on his own tongue, so I headed to Jerry, leaving Wyatt without a backward glance.
“Hey, Jerry,” I said, trying to shake the weird feeling squeezing my chest after my encounter with Wyatt. “You’re coming in late tonight. Want me to get you a beer to start?”
“I got me a temporary job,” he said, beaming.
I couldn’t hide my surprise. “A job? That’s so exciting, Jerry. Where is it? What are you doin’?”
“At the construction site. I’m just sort of a gofer, but they kept me busy this afternoon.” He jutted his head toward me. “The construction site opened back up today.”
“Yeah, so I heard.” Something about his job offer made me feel unsettled. “How did this all come about?” I asked excitedly, because Jerry was beaming and I didn’t want to take that from him. He’d felt beneath everyone for so long, and while he’d been coming out of his shell over the last five months, I’d never seen him like this.
“One of the construction foremen was here during lunch. He spotted me and asked if I wanted a job. He said it’s only temporary, but I don’t mind because it’s more money than I had before and it’s something to do.”
The arrangement sounded fishy. I didn’t mention it because if I did, I’d sound crazy, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that Bart had arranged this. But I sure hoped not. It would kill Jerry to know he’d been used, even more so if it was Bart Drummond doing the using.
“This calls for a celebration,” I said with a huge grin.
Jerry’s face glowed with pride.
Max must have heard because he came down to the end of the bar. “What are we celebratin’?”
“My new job,” Jerry said, looking pleased with himself. Then he started to tell Max about his duties for the day while Max listened, excited for him too.
But an oily feeling took hold of me. The more I thought about it, the more certain I felt that Bart had somehow arranged this.
He intended to hurt Jerry to get to me. And I was powerless to stop it.
Chapter Seventeen
It was after seven when Marco showed up, still in his uniform. His gaze found me instantly, as though his inner radar could detect my presence.
I was at the bar, getting refills for Bingham’s goons. We locked eyes, and for a split second, a sensation of warmth washed over me.
No. I couldn’t feel this way about him. I couldn’t risk losing him as my friend. The tug of yearning I felt was only because I wanted the comfort of being near him. Everyone needed to stop running their mouths about our friendship.
Wyatt was pulling the drafts, and Marco’s eyes darkened at the sight of him.
I hurried over to him, grabbing his arm. “I suppose we have a lot to talk about after my message this afternoon.”
“And your tea appointment,” he said, his gaze still on Wyatt.
“Yeah, that didn’t turn out as I’d expected.”
He eyes jerked to mine, filled with worry.
I shook my head. “Nothing to worry about… at least I don’t think so. You can help me decide when I tell you all about it later, but I don’t think we should discuss it here. Do you want to come over to Hank’s after work?”
He hesitated, then said, “I was thinkin’ you could come to my place for a sleepover. I have the day off tomorrow. I don’t go in until the evening. I can help.”
I gave it a thought. “I’d have to go by Hank’s for some things.”
“You already have a toothbrush at my place. And shampoo and conditioner too.”
Marco had gotten me those things when I’d spent days recuperating at his place after I was drugged, but I’d stayed at his house several times since for what we called sleepovers—which usually consisted of us sleeping on the sofa after watching movies. He’d introduced me to Star Wars and Star Trek—both of which I’d enjoyed, to my surprise.
When I hesitated, he added, “We can throw your clothes in the washer and dryer, and you can wear one of my T-shirts and sweatpants to sleep in.” His smile spread. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
I had to admit that hanging out with Marco tonight and tomorrow morning was exactly what I needed. And I could really use his insight into everything.
“Well, when you put it that way,” I said, “I could use a little fun.”
Wyatt’s scowl deepened as Marco grinned at me and headed to the back to change. Ignoring Wyatt, I picked up the drinks he’d finished pouring, dropped them off, then checked on Lula and Bingham.
Beatrice was awake, and Lula was cooing to her. Bingham’s gaze was on both of them, his guard up.
“Bingham,” I said in a low tone as I took their dirty plates. “I’d like to make an appointment to see you tomorrow morning.”
A smirk spread across his face. “Is this about Heather Stone? Are you playin’ Nancy Drew again?”
“I need a little insight into some Drum history, and I figured you might be able to help.”
His brow shot up. “You gonna accuse me of burying her body?”
“I know you didn’t bury her,” I scoffed. “You’re smarter than that. Her body wouldn’t have still been there if you’d put it in the ground.”
His smile stretched. “You think Old Man Drummond did it?”
“Unfortunately, no. But again, I’d like to pick your brain, if you’ll let me.”
“Figuratively, I hope,” he said with
