“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault. You’ve been doing everything you can for the kids around here. Education is their key to having a future, and kids like Adam and the Crimshaws . . .sometimes they just need to know someone cares about them, you know?” He released a self-conscious laugh. “Of course you know.”
“Maybe that’s why we work so well together. Because we share the same goals and values.” I reached over and squeezed his hand. “We both want to help other people.”
He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on my lips. I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.
Groaning, he said, “I can think of a few other ways we work well together. How do you feel about car sex?”
I laughed. “We might have a tough time zooming off after one of Hank’s buddies if I’m sitting on top of you.”
He groaned again and shifted in his seat. “Jesus, woman. That visual is killin’ me.”
I laughed again, reaching over to cover his crotch with my hand. “There are other ways to do this.”
He leaned his head back on his seat and released a few sounds that told me he wasn’t opposed to what I was doing over his jeans.
We heard a car approaching from the direction of Hank’s house, and my hand stilled.
A huge sedan passed us, heading toward the highway.
“That was Ruth’s car,” I said, sitting up and pulling my hand away.
“I thought she was at work,” he said, sounding pained.
“She doesn’t get off for another three hours. Franklin’s probably driving her car.”
“Given he lied about the black truck, I suspect he’s up to something,” Marco said, sitting up and grabbing the steering wheel. “Odds are it relates to you. I say we follow him instead.”
“Agreed.” But I wasn’t happy about it. Franklin had always been nice to me, and Ruth was my friend. I didn’t want him to be up to something. Still, following him made sense. Maybe we’d find out he was innocent of wrongdoing, and it would ease my mind. “Follow him.”
Marco started the engine, inched to the edge of the road, and headed toward the highway. The taillights of Ruth’s car were visible up ahead as it rounded a curve.
“I asked Ruth about Franklin’s accident.” I leaned forward, propping my hand on the dashboard. “I was trying to see if she knew he was lying.”
“And?”
I frowned. “I couldn’t tell.”
He didn’t say anything, and we followed Franklin in silence. He turned left, toward the lookout, a known meeting place for people who were up to no good.
We rode in silence, Marco staying a good distance behind Franklin. I fully expected him to go to the lookout, but to my surprise, Franklin turned onto the road leading to the building site of Bart Drummond’s resort.
“What’s he doin’ there?” Marco mused outloud. As he turned onto the road, he slowed down and turned off his lights, creeping about fifty feet behind.
“We can’t keep following him, or he’ll figure out something’s up,” Marco said. “I say we pull onto one of the side roads and park the Explorer out of sight. We can sneak over to the construction site to find out what he’s up to.”
I was wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and my tennis shoes, but Marco was still in the dress pants and button-down shirt he’d worn for the meeting with Tiffany, not to mention his nice dress shoes. “You might ruin your clothes.”
“If we catch him meeting with Bart Drummond, it’ll be worth it.” He flipped a switch to turn off the interior lights, then got out and opened the back hatch.
I followed him.
“I suppose it’s wasted breath to ask you to stay in the car,” he said, opening the safe where he stowed his gun when he was off duty.
My breath hitched. He was preparing for trouble. “I’m not letting you go alone.”
He released a halting chuckle, sounding more anxious than jovial. “I’m trained to deal with this, Care.”
“I’m going with you.”
The safe opened, and he grabbed his service weapon and popped in a clip. “We’ll walk along the road until we get close, then duck into the trees. You have to stay behind me and do as I say.”
“Of course.”
He placed a couple of extra clips in his pants pocket, grabbed a flashlight and a pair of binoculars, and shut the hatch. “Okay. Let’s go.”
He looped the binoculars over his neck, and then we started walking toward the construction site. My mind was racing, coming up with endless scenarios about what all Franklin could be doing, making me feel like we were dillydallying, taking forever to get there. He worked for the county’s road maintenance division He had no good reason to be out here, but there were plenty of possible bad ones. I started to jog.
Marco did the same, casting me a worried glance.
I made a face and whispered, “I don’t want to miss anything.”
“Then you set the pace,” he whispered back.
I ran faster, and Marco kept up, but he had a noticeable limp. Cursing myself for being so thoughtless, I cast him a glance and started to slow down.
“Don’t slow down on my account,” he grunted. “Keep going.”
Part of me knew we should slow down for Marco’s sake, but I had to know what Franklin was up to.
I was out of breath by the time we reached the curve in the road that turned toward the resort. Marco slowed to a jog, then lifted a finger to his lips and pointed to the woods.
I followed him into the pine trees, grateful that the ground was relatively bare so we weren’t making noise. The lights of Ruth’s car glowed through the trees and illuminated the side of the partially constructed resort. There were no other vehicles in sight, no voices.
Marco continued walking through the trees until we were a little closer. Then he lifted his binoculars and studied the construction site. The exterior walls had been erected, but there weren’t any doors or windows. It was too dark to see the state of the interior.
My heart was beating wildly. Marco lowered the binoculars and shook his head before walking a little further through the trees, edging closer to the side of the building.
After we’d moved another fifty feet, we were nearly parallel to Ruth’s car, which was parked next to an opening for a bank of doors that hadn’t been installed yet. A dim light shone from inside the building. Marco lifted his binoculars again, scanning the side of the building and inside. I could see the metal framework for interior walls, but they hadn’t put up Sheetrock yet, likely giving Marco a clear view through the building.
“He’s inside talkin’ to someone, but I can’t tell who it is,” he whispered.
“Are you sure it’s Franklin?”
“Yeah,” he said, sounding disappointed.
I had to admit I was disappointed too. In the back of my mind, I’d hoped it was someone else. “Is it a man or woman?”
“Definitely a man.” He lowered the binoculars and walked parallel to the building, heading farther down the length of it. He stopped again and resumed his watch. Seconds later, he grabbed my arm and tugged me back a few feet deeper into the trees before dropping into a squat and pulling me down with him.