“And please call me if you think of anything else that can help us,” Marco said.
She nodded.
“One more thing,” Marco said. “Can you keep this on the down-low? We try not to publicize that there’s a group of us who aren’t following the boys’ club rules.”
Tammy clutched the card to her chest. “Your secret is safe with me, and so is your name.”
“Thank you,” Marco said with a nod, then turned and glanced at me before we headed out the door.
We didn’t speak until we got in the car.
“Are you sure you can trust her, Marco?” I asked, struck by the full realization of what he’d told her.
“There’s no way of knowing for sure, but she was scared, and I had to take a chance.”
I was silent for a moment. “You’re working to bring the good ol’ boys club down—you and your friends.”
“We’ve been workin’ on it for a while,” he said, rubbing between his eyebrows as if he had a headache. Then he rushed to add, “I didn’t keep it a secret from you. I’ve mentioned things before.”
He’d made no secret of the fact that he didn’t see eye to eye with a good portion of the department. I knew he’d been held back from promotions because of it. But I’d had no idea that he was actively trying to change things.
“Don’t be mad, Carly,” he pleaded. “And please don’t take this as a sign that you can’t trust me.”
I turned to him, shaking my head. “You’re like me.”
A soft smile filled his eyes. “Tryin’ to right injustices, big and small?”
“My injustices are really big, Marco,” I whispered, getting teary-eyed.
“I know, and we’re workin’ our way up to it, remember?”
Wyatt had said the very same thing to me, not so long ago, and I couldn’t help but think about how that had turned out. “I want to believe you, Marco, and I do, but…”
“You’ve been burned,” he said softly. “I know, and you have no idea how much I want to beat the shit out of every man who has hurt you, Wyatt included. But that won’t prove anything other than I have a temper and know how to use my fists. The only way I know how to prove that you can trust me is to be a man of my word.” He took a breath. “I know that’s gonna take time, but I’m a patient man. I’m willing to earn it.”
I turned away from him and studied the front doors of the building, knowing he was talking about so much more than earning my trust.
“So what do you want to do next?” I asked.
“I think we should see May,” he said.
“Agreed.”
He pulled out his cell phone and placed a call. “Hey, Darren, it’s Marco. Can you look up an address for me?…Thanks, it’s for May Agnew, maiden name May McMurphy. Last known address is in Piedmont, before that Ewing…yeah, give me a call. I’m in Ewing, so I’ll be able to pick up.”
After he disconnected the call, I asked, “Now what?”
“Let’s do a drive-by of Mitzi’s house.”
“Won’t it be a problem if Paul sees you?” I asked.
“We’ll be fine,” he said, “but maybe drive down the opposite side of the street so it’s less likely I’ll be noticed.”
“Or we could not drive by it at all,” I said. “What do we hope to accomplish?”
“I don’t know,” Marco said. “Just call it following my gut.”
I flexed my hands on the steering wheel, my insides still twisting with anxiety from my newfound knowledge.
What if Paul found out what Marco and his friends were doing? Would he try to kill them to keep them quiet? The thought terrified me, but hiding from this wouldn’t make it go away. If Paul was connected to Heather’s death—and we could prove it—it might help Marco dismantle the corruption in the department.
I had to trust that he knew what he was doing. “Okay.”
I started the car and headed to the Conrads’ house, on the other side of town. Just like we’d discussed, I drove down the opposite side of the street past their place.
“Two cars in the driveway,” Marco said. “But his sheriff cruiser’s not here.”
“There were two cars yesterday, but no sheriff SUV,” I said. “And Paul was waiting for me when I got there. I didn’t even make it to the door.”
“He must have left his patrol vehicle at the station, and Mitzi must have told him you were comin’ after Abby’s call.”
“Agreed,” I said as I kept driving past the house, going just under the speed limit.
“Drive around the block again,” Marco said. “Only this time, pull to the side of the road about thirty feet down the block. We’ll watch the house for a bit.”
I made a loop and parked at the end of the street, the Conrads’ house in view.
“What are we looking for?” I asked.
“Any signs of activity. To see who comes and goes.”
“What if no one comes or goes?” I asked.
“Then we’ll have a long, boring afternoon,” he said with a teasing grin. When I seemed unimpressed, he added, “We’re just watching until I get that address from Darren.”
“Shouldn’t he have it by now?”
“He might be busy. It’s an unofficial request.”
We sat in silence for a couple of minutes before Marco’s cell phone rang.
“Darren,” he said, picking it up and taking the call. He grinned at me as he wrote an address on the paper bag that had held our lunch. He hung up, and I was about to start the car to head to Piedmont, but Marco leaned forward. “We have activity.”
I turned my attention back to Mitzi’s house, surprised to see Mitzi walking out of the house with an infant car seat in her hands. A toddler followed behind her.
“Where’s Paul?” I asked as she strapped her children into the backseat of an old green sedan.
“Good question,” Marco said.
Mitzi got behind the wheel of her car and backed out, then drove past us to the end of the street.
“What do you want
