Home > Buried in Secrets (Carly Moore #4)(62)

Buried in Secrets (Carly Moore #4)(62)
Author: Denise Grover Swank

He dug into his back pocket and produced a wallet.

“I have been asking questions about Pam,” I said. “I heard you were in an accident with her son Thad.”

He inhaled sharply. “I was. Are you fixing to make her look like an angel or a devil?”

I looked him in the eye. “I only want the truth, Karl.”

He pulled three ones out of his wallet. “Why?”

I hesitated, then said, “I think something else might have been going on.”

“What does that mean?”

I took the money from his hand and handed him the beer. “Did you get a settlement from the lawsuit?”

“It settled out of court the morning of the trail.” He paused, then shrugged. “I got one hundred grand. Not nearly enough, but my attorney encouraged me to take it anyway. They say it’s pretty common,” he added. “Settling out of court. I still wonder if I could have gotten more.” Anger filled his eyes. “I lost my job. I lost my house. I walk with a permanent limp. My life was ruined, and all I got was a hundred grand, while that kid gets off scot free.” He gestured toward Thad and his friends.

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault, but his mother did anything and everything to get him out of it. All he got was community service.”

I told myself to be careful and not get too excited. “Do you think the judge who sentenced Thad was corrupt?”

“What?” He squinted. “Maybe. I hadn’t considered it before.”

“Do think that Pam might have had outside help to get her son off?”

“You mean like an attorney?”

“No, like someone paying the judge to give Thad a lighter sentence?”

His face paled. “Son of a bitch.”

I held up a hand. “I didn’t say it happened. I only asked if you thought it was possible.”

“Hell, yeah, I think it’s possible.”

The back door opened, and Marco emerged. He started toward me, but a couple of guys who were regulars at the tavern stopped him and pounded him on the back in presumed congratulations.

“Can we meet somewhere more private?” I asked. “What’s your schedule like? I can meet you early afternoon tomorrow or anytime before five the next day.”

“I have to work tomorrow, but Saturday morning sounds good.” He pulled out his cell phone. “What’s your number so we can connect?”

I gave him the tavern number. “That’s the number here, which is the best way to reach me since I’m almost always at the tavern. If you call tomorrow night, we can set up a time and location.”

He entered it into his phone and looked up at me, defeat filling his eyes. “Do you really think she bribed someone to get him off?”

“I don’t know, Karl,” I said sympathetically. “That’s part of what I’m looking into.”

“What does that have to do with her killing that insurance agent?”

“I’m trying to figure that out too.”

He nodded, still not looking convinced, then limped away, the beer in his cup sloshing over the side.

Marco returned, casting a glance back at Karl. “Who was that?”

“Karl Lister.” Even as I said his name, I looked for Bart, relieved that he was still nowhere to be seen.

Marco’s eyes flew wide. “Why were you talking to him?”

“He came over to me. Besides, he bought a beer.”

“Carly, if Bart—”

“He came over to me. He didn’t dawdle long, and he just left. Everyone’s getting drinks tonight. It’s not that weird.” But even I had a hard time believing that. At the same time, I wasn’t sure what I could have done differently. Wouldn’t it have looked more suspicious if I’d sent him away immediately? “He says he lost his job and his house, but they settled his case out of court the morning of his trial. All he got was one hundred thousand.”

“Which means he only got about sixty or seventy thousand after his lawyer got his cut,” Marco said. “Not much given what he lost.”

“He said his attorney suggested he accept the offer. It wasn’t much money, but what pissed Karl off the most was that Thad got off so easily.”

“If his attorney pressed him to accept, he may have gotten a bribe, but the money probably came from the car insurance company. I highly doubt Bart had any influence over them, nor would they care. And sure, the Crimshaws’ premiums probably went up a whole lot, but that would have happened anyway. I wonder if he got anything else.”

“He wants to meet with me on Saturday morning to discuss it more. I can ask him then.”

Marco pressed his lips together, then nodded. “Maybe I’ll go with you. Jim Palmer’s funeral is that afternoon.”

I wasn’t going to complain.

Movement on the street caught my eye, and I saw Hank hobbling toward the edge of the parking lot with his crutches. He was wearing a button-down checkered shirt and jeans, the right leg rolled up and pinned.

“Hank.” I covered my face with my hands as tears sprang to my eyes.

Marco put his hand on my shoulder. “Go see him. I’ve got this covered.”

I scooted around the edge of the table and hurried over to him. When he saw me, he gave me a big smile.

“You’re here!” I exclaimed as I got closer.

“Wyatt came and got me.”

Wyatt stood to the side, watching with his thumbs hooked under the waistband of his jeans.

“Thank you,” I said to him as a tear slid down my cheek.

“No cryin’,” Hank grumped. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“You have no idea,” I said, throwing my arms around him and hugging him tight.

He patted my back. “There, there, girlie. You’re gonna knock me over.”

Laughing, I released him. “Are you hungry? Do you want to sit down? We can get you a chair. Do you want me to get you some water?”

“Slow down,” he said with a grin. “I know I don’t get out of the house much, but I’m not a shut-in. You’re right. I need to get out more, and Wyatt’s gonna get my car set up tomorrow so I can start driving myself around.”

“I’m still going to your doctor appointments in Greeneville,” I said in a stern voice.

“You’re only sayin’ that because you want your Church’s Chicken.”

“Maybe. But I also want to talk to your doctors and make sure you’re not pullin’ a fast one on me.”

He laughed. “Deal. Now why are you standin’ here talkin’ to me? I want to see you dancin’ with that man of yours.”

“Marco’s manning the drink table. Speaking of which, do you want me to get you a drink? Have you been good with your diet today? Maybe you can splurge and have a beer.”

He cast a glance at Marco. “I’m fine with water. You go get it, and I’ll find a place to park myself.”

I went back over to Marco and walked behind the table to get a bottle of water.

“Did Wyatt go pick up Hank?” he asked.

I grimaced. “Yeah.”

“That was nice of him. Honestly, I should have thought of it.”

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