Underneath the photos were newspaper clippings of the shootout with Carson Purdy and Seth’s murder. Even Barb’s death and the shooting of her boyfriend. Jerry had seen a deputy sheriff murder Barb’s boyfriend and had kept it quiet for over a year, terrified what would happen to him if he told anyone what he saw. I knew he felt responsible for the deputy going free. It seemed odd that Emily had included them instead of seeing them as trash.
There were other papers, but I was running seriously late now and decided I could look at them later.
It was depressing to think that Jerry’s life had fit into a small cardboard box. A fresh batch of tears appeared and streamed down my face. A good man had died because of my snooping. Why was I still putting people at risk?
Because letting Bart get away with it didn’t feel right either. The man had to be stopped. But at what cost?
I left the box on the coffee table and headed downstairs. I’d been late before, but now I was seriously late for my regular meeting with the two middle school students who always came in half an hour before the official meeting. Since we’d missed most of our time together, I promised to give them more time after the younger kids arrived at three thirty.
Max gave me a questioning look from the bar, but I smiled, mouthing, It’s okay. He didn’t look like he believed me.
The little kids were wound up, not that I was surprised since it was summer vacation. The mothers kept glancing at me and talking in undertones that suggested they were discussing me and Wyatt. Probably because my shirtsleeves ended above my elbow, making my bruises visible to anyone looking for them. I was too busy thinking about Emily’s visit to care.
When the last kid left, Ruth held out a black T-shirt with the old Max’s Tavern logo.
“What happened to the new ones?” I asked as I took it, taking a peek at Max, who was behind the bar reading a book.
“Max and I reached a comprise. He’ll sell the merch with the new logo, but we get to keep wearin’ our old shirts.”
“He meant well,” I said, feeling the need to defend him.
“I’m sure he did, but a hard lesson was learned, and that lesson is that Max is shit at pickin’ out good designs. He’s gonna try it again with input from us.”
“He’s going to order all new stuff?”
She shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.”
How much would that cost? How much money was he losing?
If she knew or cared about Emily’s visit, she didn’t say so. I wondered if she just thought Emily had dropped by to see her son, although that was a pretty rare occurrence. Maybe Ruth didn’t know she’d dropped by. But the building wasn’t huge. How could she have missed it? Then again, Emily had orchestrated a meeting with me during the block party, and all were none the wiser. For all I knew, Max had snuck her in through the back door.
Could I trust Max? Given who his parents were, I was inclined to say no, I should say no. But it was obvious he was worried about me. Even now, the way he frowned as he looked at me, the perpetual worry lines carved into his face—it was oddly reassuring.
That had to mean something. Right?
Chapter Seventeen
I didn’t have much time to think Emily’s unexpected visit or Jerry or much of anything at all because the dinner rush was heavier than usual, but there had to be a full moon, because few people asked me about Wyatt. Ruth and Max were both in surprisingly good moods given the whole logo debacle, and customers seemed happy that the special was meatloaf.
Around eight thirty, things had finally slowed down some. Most of the patrons had been tended to and were drinking their beers, watching the Braves game, and I was bent over a table, wiping it down when a woman I’d never seen before walked in and headed to the bar. She said something to Max, whose eyes widened in surprise.
He cast a glance in my direction, and her gaze followed.
She was tall with shoulder-length dark brown hair and looked to be in her late thirties or early forties. A tattoo covered her upper right arm.
“Who’s that?” Ruth asked, walking up beside me.
“I don’t know,” I said hesitantly as I stood upright. At least she had a friendly expression.
“Max told me about the weird woman yesterday.” When I didn’t respond, she added, “The one after the lunch rush.”
Then for some weird reason—probably because I really felt like I needed a friend—I said, “That was Louise Baker.”
Ruth’s jaw dropped so far I was surprised it didn’t hit her chest. “What?”
“Shh!” I whisper-shouted, tugging on her arm. “I don’t want people to know.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why not?”
It struck me that Ruth might have some insights into the whole mess, and I should have asked her about it sooner. “Because she was looking for me.”
“What on earth for?”
“She wants me to help her find a missing toolbox.”
She arched a brow. “Say what now? Does she think you took it?”
“No, but she heard I was good at sleuthing.”
“I suppose that’s true, but what do you get out of it?” she scoffed.
Should I tell her about Hank? I figured I’d work my way up to him. “She says she knows something about Jerry getting run off the road.”
Her eyes flew wide. “You have to tell Marco!”
“I already did,” I said insistently, glancing around to see who’d noticed us—plenty of people—and then dragging her toward the back. “But she’ll deny it if he goes to her and asks. She’s using it as a bargaining chip to get me to help her.”
She was quiet for a moment. “What do you know about this toolbox?”
“Pretty much nothing. She said it was stolen from her property, but she doesn’t know when. Could have happened any time between when she was arrested and now.” Although, from what Lula said, it had probably happened within the last few months.
“What’s in it?”
I exhaled a slow breath. “I have absolutely no idea.”
She pursed her lips. “She must not want it back very badly if she didn’t give you anything else to go on.”
“Agreed.”
Her gaze wandered out to the dining room. “That woman out there definitely wants to talk to you. Do you think Louise sent her?”
I hadn’t considered that. Louise hadn’t told me when she’d come for my answer, and I hadn’t considered that she might send someone else for it. What if this woman was her accomplice? Then again she looked too well-groomed to be working with Louise.
“I don’t know. I guess I’m about to find out.” I started for the dining room, but Ruth grabbed my wrist and tugged me back.
“Louise Baker is dangerous, Carly. I’m not sure you should be playin’ her game. There’s a good chance she doesn’t know shit about Jerry. She’s a known liar.”
“So I’ve heard. But if there’s even a tiny chance she does know, I can’t ignore her, can I?”
Her gaze held mine. “Let me help.”
“What?” I asked in shock.
Determination filled her eyes, and her head bobbed in affirmation. “Jerry was good people, and the person who ran him off the road needs to be brought to justice. Let me help.”