“Well, I’ll be damned,” Ruth said next to me, staring at her. “What’s she doin’ here?”
“You know her?” I asked in surprise.
“Yeah, she used to be a regular back when Wyatt ran the place.”
Crap. Why hadn’t I thought to ask Ruth? She’d worked at the tavern before Max had taken over. “Do you know much about her husband, Bruce? I heard he was arrested after a bar fight here.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You won’t share with me, yet you’re askin’ me questions.”
“That’s fair,” I said, “but my story can’t be told while bussing a table. It’s more of a bottle of wine kind of story.”
Her brow shot up. “That good, huh?”
I wasn’t sure I appreciated the excitement in her eyes. “Yeah. Now tell me about Bruce.”
“Why are you so interested in him?”
“I know he worked for Hank,” I said, “and now that Hank’s getting together with all his old work buddies . . . let’s just say I’m curious.”
She studied me for a moment. “Okay, but let’s take these plates to the back. I don’t think we should be talkin’ about it out here with Michelle watchin’.”
I glanced over, and sure enough, Michelle was watching us. I picked up a stack of plates and a couple of glasses, Ruth picked up flatware from the next table, and we headed to the back.
“Okay,” Ruth said once we were out of sight. “Bruce started working for Hank when he was like sixteen or seventeen. He quit school to do it.”
“He was older than you, wasn’t he?” I said. “How do you know that?”
Ruth rolled her eyes. “Please. I’ve worked here for years. People talk.”
She had a point.
“Rumor had it he had his eyes set on Barb Chalmers, but Hank wouldn’t hear of it.”
“Why not?”
“Because Hank wanted his baby girl to go to college, and he didn’t want her comin’ back when she was done. In fact, everyone said he and Mary planned to move to Florida at some point, but then Barb came home pregnant. Bruce was still interested in her, but Hank put his foot down.”
“Why?”
“Because Bruce Abernathy was a lowlife, opportunistic scumbag, and he saw gettin’ involved with Barb as his opportunity to get his hands on Hank’s riches.”
My mouth parted in surprise. In light of this new information, Bruce’s involvement with Louise seemed more than suspicious. What if he’d decided to go after Hank’s fortune in a different way because his first attempt hadn’t worked?
“So he married Michelle instead?” I asked.
“Yep, but Michelle always knew she played second fiddle and didn’t like it. In fact, she insisted he quit workin’ for Hank—she didn’t want him anywhere near Barb—but he refused.”
“I thought Michelle was friends with Barb.”
“I guess it was a keep-your-enemies-close type situation.”
Gross. But I decided to give Michelle the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she really had cared about Barb, and it was her husband she hadn’t trusted. With reason, it would seem.
Speaking of. “Cassie told me that Bruce had an affair with Louise Baker.”
Ruth snorted. “Who didn’t?”
“So why did Bruce get into a fight with Bingham that night?”
“I don’t have the slightest idea.” Her eyes narrowed. “Does this have anything to do with the black toolbox?”
I wanted to tell her the truth. I was tired of parceling out information in small bits and trying to remember what I’d said and to whom. But that was how it had to be for now. Marco had warned me about Franklin, and Max’s words were bouncing around in my head. Only . . . why had he refused to tell me why he didn’t trust her?
What if it’s Max you can’t trust?
I refused to consider it. Marco trusted him for the most part, and besides, Max had never shown any sign of being out to get me. If anything, he’d gone out of his way to keep me safe.
“I don’t know,” I said, honestly, because all I had to link Bruce to the toolbox was a hunch, and for all I knew, he hadn’t known squat about it. Shoot, the stupid toolbox might not even be real . . . except Lula said she’d seen it. “I guess I’m trying to figure that out.”
She nodded. “Why don’t you go talk to her? To the best of my knowledge, she hasn’t been in here for years. The last time I remember seein’ her here was before the night Bruce got in a fight. I’m guessin’ she’s here to see you.”
“Thanks, Ruth.”
“We girls gotta have each other’s backs,” she said with a warm smile.
My guilt increased tenfold, but I walked back out to the dining room, not surprised to see Michelle in a booth in my section nursing a bottle of beer. It was the booth, in fact—the same one Bingham always sat in when he showed up to talk to me.
Max caught my eye and nodded toward her, so I headed over and slid into the seat opposite her.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” I said. “I got the impression you’d said your piece and were done.”
“Yeah, well . . .” She took a pull from her bottle, and I recognized it for the stalling tactic it was. She lowered the bottle. “I thought of a few other things.”
“I’d love to hear anything you have to say, but first I need to know how you know about me.”
Her bottom lip puffed out. “I heard you were livin’ with Hank Chalmers, and I wanted to know things. So I asked around.”
“Why would you want to know about a woman you’d never met before?” I asked, not hiding my suspicion.
“I’m a curious gal, okay?” she said defensively. Then she glanced around the room before turning back to me, lowering her voice. “If I had some good information, do you think Hank would pay a finder’s fee?”
Okay, so I hadn’t expected that. “I can’t really say. Honestly, he doesn’t have much money.”
She nodded and took a sip of her beer before setting it back down. “What if I said I knew where it went?”
I tried to control my reaction, but my brow still shot up. “Hank’s money?”
“It ain’t buried in his yard like people suspect, but it is buried. If I can help you recover it, do you think Hank would give me a finder’s fee?”
I squirmed in my seat. “I can’t really speak on Hank’s behalf.”
“That’s not what I heard from Big Joe. He says you’ve got Hank buyin’ you a washin’ machine.”
“You’ve talked to Big Joe?” I asked in disbelief. I’d gotten the impression the Carpenters and the Abernathys weren’t the best of friends.
“He knew Bruce,” she said with a shrug, as though that explained it all.
“Does Big Joe know where Hank’s fortune is buried?”
She snorted. “I ain’t stupid. He’d as soon kill me and take it for himself if he knew.”
“He wouldn’t give it back to Hank?”
She took another long drink. “No. He’d definitely take it and run.”