She blew smoke out of the side of her mouth. “Well now, let’s not put the cart before the horse. We’ll get to Jerry in good time.”
“Seems to me you could give me information about Jerry as a sign of good faith,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “And once you prove yourself trustworthy, I’ll help you with whatever it is you want.”
She released a chuckle and flicked ashes onto the sidewalk. “Wouldn’t it be nice if that’s how life worked, but this ain’t Candy Land, sister. You have to earn your prize”
“Let’s cut to the chase,” I said. “What do you want?”
“When I was sent away, I hid something important on my land, but now it’s gone. I need it back.”
“Sounds like you should be contacting the sheriff’s department, not a waitress.”
She snorted. “I can’t be callin’ the police over this, if you know what I mean.”
“What did you hide?”
“I ain’t tellin’ you that yet.”
“Let me get this straight,” I said. “You want me to help you find something that was stolen sometime after you were arrested thirteen years ago—”
“Well, now,” she said. “I’m not sure when it was stolen. It could have been thirteen years ago. It could have been three weeks ago. I only know that when I went to go fetch it, it was gone.”
“Where did you hide it?”
“On my land. That’s all I’m gonna tell you right now.”
“If you’re not going to tell me what it is or where it was, how exactly am I supposed to help you?”
“All in good time.”
I shifted my weight. “Maybe Lula took it. Did you ask her?”
She made a face. “She won’t speak to me.”
“I see.”
“You think you do, don’t you?” she sneered. “You ain’t even been in this town a year, and you think you’ve got it and everyone in it all figured out.”
“I wish I did,” I said in an ice-cold tone. If I’d figured out what was going on in this town, I wouldn’t be here now, and neither would Bart Drummond. He’d be behind bars. But I wasn’t going to admit that. If I chose my words carefully, all she had to go on was speculation. The man in the black truck had killed Jerry because I hadn’t been careful. I needed to remember that.
Narrowing her eyes, she studied me while taking another drag. “Why does Bart Drummond have your panties in a bunch? What’d that man do to you?”
“I never said I had anything against him.”
She laughed, ignoring me. “You’re one of those do-gooders, huh? You sure jumped in to help Lula.”
“I stand up for the people I care about.”
“Including Max Drummond?”
I tilted my head and studied her. “What do you have against Max? He was a kid when you went away.”
“You mean other than that he’s a privileged Drummond?”
“He and Wyatt took Lula in last December when she thought their father was after her.”
“Her father.”
I nodded. “If it ever goes public, Bart plans to deny it. He says he has a DNA test proving he’s not the father.”
“That’s easily rectified,” she said matter-of-factly.
It already had been, but I wasn’t going to be the one to tell her that Lula had already done a test that proved Wyatt and Max were her brothers.
“How do you know what plans Bart has for my daughter?”
“He freely shared the information when he asked me to come by for a visit last December.”
She laughed again, this time more bitter. “He called you up to the big house, huh? Did he make you come through the side door?”
“Yeah.”
A knowing look washed over her face, suggesting she remembered doing the same thing herself. “He sure likes to put people in their place.” She took another puff looking me up and down. “Did he try to fuck you? You’re definitely his type.”
I shuddered. “No.”
“But he’s got something on you, don’t he? What is it?”
It was my turn to release a bitter laugh. “What does he have on you?”
“Other than that he’s the father of my kid?” She tapped the ashes again, watching them fall. “I can’t be spilling all my secrets, now can I?”
“It’s obvious this is some kind of game to you,” I fumed. “But Jerry’s death isn’t a joke or a game. It was very, very real, and if you have something to help me tie his death to the person responsible, you need to tell me right now.”
A slow grin spread across her face. “Well, now that was an interesting little speech. There were a lot of I’s and me’s and not a single sheriff or authorities mentioned.”
Shit. “You know I plan to turn the information over.”
“Actually, I don’t,” she said, taking a last drag and dropping her cigarette on the asphalt parking lot. She snuffed out and twisted her foot. “I suspect you’re some kind of vigilante, Carly Moore, and I think we should team up.”
I couldn’t stop myself from recoiling. “I’m not teaming up with you.”
She stalked toward me, stopping about a foot away and stared at me with a cold, hard look. “You ain’t any better than me, you bitch. You just happened to be born with more money.”
“I don’t know where you got your information, but I work at a tavern and have a landlord. That doesn’t reek of money.”
“You’re shackin’ up with Hank Chalmers. You screwin’ him too?”
I ignored the too. “That’s disgusting. I’m not sleeping with Hank.”
“Then what’s he gettin’ out of it? Because Hank Chalmers always has a reason for everything he does.”
“I saw his grandson get murdered,” I said past the lump that always rose in my throat when I thought of Seth. “And I brought Hank home from the hospital after his leg amputation. I stay at his house in exchange for helping him.”
She winked. “Is that what you’re callin’ it?”
“That’s disgusting.” Just the thought of Hank trying anything inappropriate made me want to throw up. He was family in every way that counted.
“Who murdered Hank’s boy?”
“Seems to me that you would know,” I chided. “You made Lula work with them.”
She pointed a finger at my nose. “I never made my girl work with that riffraff. I only made her sleep with Mobley. There’s a difference.”
“He tried to kill her, you know. He and Shane Jones. They were pissed at her for losing their money.”
She took a step back, finally giving me some personal space. “Yeah, well . . . I can’t say I blame them after she dumped their stash. Stupid fool.”
I gaped at her in disbelief. “Look,” I said. “I’m not here to argue with your parenting choices. You say you want me to find what was stolen from you, but you won’t tell me what it was—seems like an impossible task.”
She put both hands on the small of her back, then arched backward until it popped. “Damn. That felt good. Know of a good chiropractor?”