“I don’t know,” Hank said. “I don’t know either one of ’em well enough to know what they’re up to, but you can’t ignore that Franklin was out meetin’ someone at Drummond’s resort. Likely Drummond himself.”
We sat silently mulling over our thoughts as Hank drove back into town. I cast a glance at Wyatt’s garage, not letting myself jump too far down the rabbit hole of wondering what connections he had to the pair—and to Jerry’s murder.
Hank parked behind the tavern, and I hopped out and rushed to the back door, unlocking it. It was early enough that Tiny wasn’t in yet, and Max still hadn’t come down from his apartment. Had Max kept the box in his apartment, or would he have brought it down?
I searched the storeroom and Max’s office and didn’t find it, which suggested it was still up in Max’s apartment.
He was likely sleeping, and I knew I should probably wait, but I couldn’t. I needed to see what was in there. But first I picked up the phone on Max’s desk and dialed Marco’s cell phone.
“Max?” Marco said when he answered the phone.
“No. It’s me.”
“Carly? What are you doin’ at the tavern already? I left you with Hank.” Then he added, sounding panicked, “You’re not out on your own, are you?”
“I’m still with Hank.” I rubbed my forehead. “Or I left him out in the parking lot. We dropped by to get the box Emily gave me. But that’s not why we left the house. Hank took me to see Wyatt so he could tell me what to look for in case someone tampered with my car.”
“Was he helpful?”
“He was, after Hank jerked some sense into him.” I took a deep, bolstering breath, then spilled out the rest of the story—including our decision to follow the truck and the pictures I’d taken from the woods near Louise’s cabin.
“You were in the woods?”
“I snuck in from the road. They never saw me. I was perfectly safe.”
“But they could have seen you, Care!”
“I had Hank’s gun, okay? He made me take it from his glove box. I could have defended myself if I had to, but I didn’t need to. Given everything I overheard, it was worth the risk.”
“So Big Joe’s son is working with Louise?”
“Looks like it.”
“What does Hank make of all of this?”
“He’s been pretty mum about the whole thing, but he did tell me that Franklin is something like a second cousin to Derek.”
“So Franklin’s in on this?”
“I mean, maybe?” I said. “The crash and his explanation for it don’t seem to align with Derek and Louise’s plan. Plus we saw him meet up with someone at Bart’s resort. It doesn’t add up, because I’m pretty sure Louise wanted me to think Bart killed Jerry so I’d ‘stir up shit,’ to quote Derek.”
“Okay. You two stay put. I’m wrapping things up, and we’ll sort everything out once I get there, okay?”
“Yeah. I’m about to go upstairs and get the box of Jerry’s things from Max. Derek and Louise said Jerry knew too much, and as weird as Emily was acting a couple of days ago, I think evidence of what he saw might be hidden with his belongings. But the box is in Max’s apartment, and I hate to wake him.”
“Wake him. He’ll understand. I should be there in about twenty-five minutes.” He paused. “And Care?”
“Yeah?”
“Get Hank’s gun. I didn’t want to tell you until you got through with your story, but they found Michelle Abernathy dead this morning.”
I gasped. “What? Was she run off the road?”
“No. She was shot. I’ll see you soon, Carly. Stay put.”
I hung up and took a deep breath. Had Michelle been killed because she’d talked to me? I sat on the edge of Max’s desk to pull myself together. Was there another death on my head?
I needed to find out what Jerry had discovered, which meant I needed that box. But first I had to tell Hank and get that gun.
I went out the back door, propping it open, then headed straight to Hank. His window was rolled down, and even before I’d reached him, I started talking at him, struggling to keep my voice steady.
“Marco’s on his way. He said that Michelle Abernathy was found shot to death this morning. He wants us to stay put and wait for him. He’ll be here in about twenty-five minutes.”
His expression turned dark and inscrutable. He’d known Michelle. Was he upset about her death? Or pissed that Marco wanted us to stay here?
“He also said for me to get the gun out of your glove compartment.”
“My gun,” he said flatly.
“Yes, your gun. Hank, Michelle was my source. She’s the one who told me about a third person stealing your gold with Louise and Bruce. She’s the one who wanted a finder’s fee if she helped you find it. And now she’s dead.”
“If they killed her, they might go after you next,” he said, understanding dawning.
“I think that’s what Marco’s afraid of.”
Without a second’s delay, Hank retrieved the gun from his glove box and handed it to me.
My chest tightened with anxiety. “Jerry’s box is still up in Max’s apartment. I’ll bring it down to the dining room, and we can go through it together.”
“I don’t know what you hope to find,” he said, “but there won’t be nothin’ about my gold in there.”
I stared at him in shock. Was that all he cared about?
He gave me an exasperated look. “Derek Carpenter killed Jerry Nelson. He got caught up in Derek’s plot to set you up for something heinous. The whys of it don’t matter. What does matter is that he has to pay.” Only the look on his face suggested he wasn’t talking about runnin’ him through the justice system.
“Hank . . .” There was no point in discussing this now. We needed to go through that box. “Just come inside, and we’ll deal with it once Marco gets here.”
He slowly shook his head. “No. Part of this is my business. You stay here with Max and wait for Marco. I need to go talk to Derek’s father.” He punctuated his statement by turning on the engine. “Lock the door behind you.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Hank,” I protested.
He gave me a pointed look. “Stay away from the gold, Carly. I mean it.”
Before I could respond, he pulled out of his parking space and turned toward the highway. I followed him to the edge of the lot, getting there in time to see him turning toward the highway to Ewing and Louise’s property.
Dammit. What was he planning to do? Was he planning to do something terrible to Big Joe? Should I tell Marco so he could stop him? Was it wrong if I didn’t want to?
I couldn’t follow him, so I went back inside and closed the door before heading up to Max’s apartment. I knocked on the door several times—no answer—then tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. Pushing the door open, I called out his name, but he still didn’t respond.
I took a step inside and saw the file box still on his coffee table. There was no sign of Max. Was he still in bed? Would he mind if I brought the box downstairs and sorted through it while I waited for Marco? That seemed like the best plan, although I suspected Marco wouldn’t agree. He’d made it clear he didn’t want me to be alone. But I didn’t want to wake Max up just so he could babysit me, so I decided to let him sleep and go through the box in his living room.