“This the longest I’ve gone without seein’ him,” Max said. “I figured you’d know if something was up.”
“You could call him yourself, you know,” I said. “You don’t have to wait for him to drop by.”
His eyes widened. “Did he say something?”
I laughed. “No. But I do know that he’s workin’ more hours starting last week, so it’s probably keeping him busy.”
“So busy he hasn’t been in for nearly a week?” he asked skeptically.
He had a point. While Marco didn’t come in every night, he usually came in every two or three. I hadn’t heard from him at all since our last conversation.
My face must have given away my confusion, because he asked, “Did something happen between you two?”
“What? Why would you ask that?”
“Because you two are pretty close lately, and if you had a fight…”
“No. We haven’t had a fight. I’m sure he’s just busy.” Which was partially true. Our discussion hadn’t been a fight, but I knew it had upset him.
He leaned an elbow on the counter. “Then why are you expecting a call from him? He hardly ever calls here.”
While I knew he and his brother were at odds with their father, I still didn’t totally trust them when it came to Bart Drummond. I wasn’t ready to share my working theory about why Pam might have shot Jim Palmer. Still, maybe I could switch this conversation around to my advantage. “Is everything okay with Wyatt?” I asked, then added, “You two went into the back to talk last night. I haven’t seen you do that since he was a person of interest in his ex-girlfriend’s murder.” I lowered my voice and asked, “Is he in some kind of trouble?”
He gave me a surprised look. “No. Everything’s fine.” His gaze narrowed. “I thought you weren’t interested in my brother.”
I should have expected that. “I’m not interested in getting back together with him, if that’s what you’re insinuating. But I still care about his well-being. I did try to clear his name when the sheriff deputies put out a warrant for his arrest.”
He lowered his head closer to mine. “Look, the last thing I want to do is get in the middle of your love life—”
I pointed a finger at him. “You can stop right there, because I know whatever you say next is bound to get one of us into trouble.”
His mouth twisted, and then he blurted out, “What’s goin’ on with you and Marco?”
“I told you, nothing. He’s workin’ a lot.” My jaw tightened. “And I find it insulting that you persist in thinking Marco and I are romantically involved when we’ve told you a million times we’re not…not to mention that you seem to think I’d jump from him back to Wyatt before the sheets were even cold.”
A smug look filled his eyes. “I find it interesting you mentioned sheets.”
I groaned. “I was trying to prove a point, Max.”
“And I was tryin’ to pick up on it.” But then he sobered. “Why hasn’t Marco been in? For real?”
I pushed out a sigh. “Shouldn’t you be asking Marco that question? He is your best friend.”
“Not anymore,” he said without any hint of anger. “You claim that title now.”
Ouch, but he wasn’t wrong. We definitely spent more time together than the two of them did. “Max…”
“Hey,” he said, “I know full well I brought it on myself, but that’s a discussion for another day. Still, I’ve never known the man to claim a woman for a friend and not be sleepin’ with her, so color me all kinds of confused. Especially if he’s playin’ the long game. Half a year is one hell of a long game.”
“Maybe Marco hadn’t been friends with a woman before, but he’d never been shot before either. Staring down the barrel of Carson Purdy’s gun changed us both. I’m not sure we ever would have been friends if we hadn’t gone through it together, but the experience bonded us.”
“Jerry went through it too, and I don’t see you spendin’ all your time with him.”
I released a sigh. “You know why we really bonded, Max. I don’t think either of us wants to get into that.” Our friendship had deepened during our search for Lula, which would have ended the day it began if Max had been honest with us.
He nodded but didn’t say anything. He’d confessed before that he was fully aware he’d screwed up, but it still wasn’t something either of us openly discussed.
“Look, Max, I know he still considers you a close friend, so maybe—”
“I’m your friend too, Carly. At least I’d like to think we’re friends.”
“Of course we are,” I said, meaning every word. You couldn’t work with someone for fifty plus hours a week and not be friends, Molly being the exception. But my connection with Max went deeper. He’d taken me in when I was in a desperate place, stood by me when things were rough, and offered me protection when he barely knew me. He’d been there for me before anyone else, Marco and Wyatt included. I couldn’t forget that. But I also couldn’t forget he’d put Marco and me in danger. “I owe you more than I can ever repay you, Max.”
“I ain’t lookin’ for repayment, Carly,” he said, sounding hurt.
“I didn’t mean it that way,” I said with a frustrated sigh. I reached over the bar and covered his hand with mine. “We’re friends, Max. I’ve found that true friends are hard to come by. So thank you.”
But even as I said the words, I wondered if they were true. Max was a confusing conundrum. One minute he was vowing to protect me against outside forces because his employees were family, and the next he was full of secrets, some of which I worried would end up hurting me. Still, I reminded myself that he was a different case from Wyatt. He didn’t know all of my secrets. What made me feel entitled to his?
He nodded, glancing away.
“So why did Wyatt stop by?” I asked, deciding to press the issue.
He hesitated, then pulled his hand away. “Just some work stuff.” He headed to the back, ending the conversation.
I didn’t believe it for a minute.
The afternoon was slow until Ruth showed up at three. She headed straight for me as soon as she emerged from the back, still tying her apron.
“Did he do it?”
It took me a second to figure out what she was talking about. “Oh, you mean Molly. Yeah. He did it.”
Confusion filled her eyes. “What did you think I was talking about?”
Releasing a sigh, I said, “The talk of the town is that Pam Crimshaw killed a man in Ewing yesterday.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Pam Crimshaw? Are they sure it wasn’t Rob?”
“Yup. She walked into an insurance office and shot an insurance agent in cold blood, in front of his office staff and a customer. At least that’s the story. No reason was given.”
She put a hand on her chest. “I can’t believe it.”
“I know,” I said. “She seems so sweet. I’ve never even heard her raise her voice or take a tone. Which is saying something considering how bossy Diane can get.”