“You’ve been waitin’ thirteen years, you can wait an hour longer. It ain’t goin’ nowhere. And I ain’t stupid enough to believe you would have held my share until I got out.” She tugged on his arm. “Come on. I’m hungry.”
They got in the car, and the video turned off.
“So Derek was the third man,” Marco said. “I never saw that comin’.”
“Hank thinks it might have been Big Joe. I think he went to confront him.”
“Shit.”
The third video was dated the next day, at two in the morning. A selfie of Jerry filled the screen. He was sitting in the cab of a truck in the dark, his face lit by the glow of his screen.
“Carly, if you’re seein’ this, then I’m probably dead.”
Lifting a hand to my mouth, I choked back a sob.
“I tried to be careful, but I think Louise saw me when I was drivin’ away from her property, and she’ll likely come after me. Especially when she realizes the toolbox is gone.” He swallowed. “I took it.”
I turned to Marco, who looked just as surprised as I felt.
“After I took that last video, I raced out to the Baker property. I’d done a repair on Lula’s roof a couple of years ago, and I remembered seein’ a toolbox with a padlock. I thought it was funny since it was locked up tight but light as a feather. I took it back to the Drummonds’, then cut it open.” He swallowed again. “Carly, the location of Hank’s gold was in it, as well as a key to a safe-deposit box at the Drum Savings and Loan. The box is in Lula’s name. I think there’s proof in that safe-deposit box that Bart killed a little girl who was his daughter. Whatever’s in the box should be enough to put him away for good.”
I gasped.
“I hid the contents of that toolbox somewhere very special to me. Your love warmed me on the inside, but your gift warmed me all over. You know what you need to do.”
The video ended, and I turned to Marco in a daze. “His coat. It’s in the coat I gave him.”
“Where’s his coat?”
“In his cabin,” I said. “On Drummond land.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
“How do you know it’s there?” he asked.
“Because Emily told me. She said Bart wanted to throw everything away and that most of Jerry’s clothes were threadbare, but his coat was in excellent condition.” I ran a hand through my hair. “She specifically mentioned his coat. Do you think she knows?”
“How could she? Emily would have to know Cecelia’s birthday to get into his phone. Do you think she knew that?”
I thought for a moment. It seemed improbable, but it had been on that locket. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to think when it comes to Emily Drummond.”
At the same time, it did seem like she’d set things up for me to find Jerry’s clues. Did she really want to put Bart away? If so, why didn’t she do it herself?
She was still playing games, and I didn’t trust her, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t still try tp get the information in that coat.
“How are we going to get onto the Drummonds’ land?” Marco asked.
“I’m going to call Emily and tell her I’m coming for the rest of Jerry’s things. But I need to get to a phone, and I can’t go back to the tavern.”
“The laundromat has a pay phone,” Marco said.
He drove over to the parking lot and pulled out a couple of quarters, handing them to me. “Do you know her number?”
“Not off the top of my head.” I pulled my cell phone out of my purse. “But I have it listed in here.”
“You go on inside. I’ll keep watch.”
I nodded, then got out of the car and walked into the laundromat. An older woman was sitting in the corner while a dryer tumbled clothes next to her. She was bent over a knitting project and barely glanced up at me.
Turning my back to her, I dropped the quarters into the phone and punched in the number. My heart raced when the phone began to ring.
“Drummond residence,” answered Emily’s loyal housekeeper. I recognized her voice immediately.
“Annie, this is Carly Moore. May I speak to Emily, please?”
She hesitated. “I’m afraid she’s busy right now. She’ll have to call you back.”
To my surprise, she sounded much less adversarial than she had when Emily had invited me for tea.
“Emily told me that Jerry’s things were still in the cabin he’d been staying in, and that I was welcome to his belongings. Would it be all right if I come out now to pick them up?”
“It’s a good thing you called today,” she said. “Bart is having somebody bag it all up and throw it out tomorrow. Feel free to come on by. Do you know how to get to his cabin?”
“No. But I’ll have Marco Roland with me.” Anyone who knew Marco knew he’d spent half his childhood with Max Drummond.
She laughed. “Marco knows the way. He and Max used to spend plenty of time out there, stirring up trouble. If anyone stops you, tell them Mrs. Drummond gave you permission.”
She hung up, and I stared at the phone, wondering again if I was being set up. Annie couldn’t stand me the last time she saw me.
Still . . . it didn’t matter. It couldn’t. If there was evidence in there that could put Bart away, I was going to find it.
I walked out and got into the car. “She wasn’t there, but her housekeeper knew all about it. She said Bart’s throwing out Jerry’s stuff tomorrow, so this was good timing.”
“All right,” he said as he backed out of the parking space. “Looks like we’ve got our in.”
We were silent on the drive. I kept rolling everything over in my head, trying to make sense of it all.
It sounded like Louise and Derek had known what they were doing. Mostly. Why bring Wyatt into it? And what about Franklin? Had he really met Bart Drummond on that construction site? Either way, it didn’t feel like he was part of Derek and Louise’s plan either.
We were getting answers, but we still had a lot more questions.
Marco pulled up to the entrance of the Drummond property and rolled slowly through the gates.
“How long has it been since you were out at the overseer’s cabin?” I asked him.
“Since I was a boy,” he said, surveying the land in front of us. “But I remember how to get there. We’ll turn off before we get close to the main house.”
He drove for a couple of minutes, then veered onto a gravel road surrounded by pine trees. The road went on for about a quarter mile before it ended in a clearing. A small, well-maintained house sat in the middle of it. There was a porch in front, and two rocking chairs flanked a large picture window.
The homey sight brought tears to my eyes. Sure, this house belonged to Bart Drummond, but I couldn’t help thinking how much Jerry must have loved living here, even if it was only for a short time.
Marco turned off his car, and we got out and walked up to the front door. I was surprised to find it unlocked, but Marco said no one locked anything out here. Bart Drummond thought he was safe from everything on his land. Locking up would be considered a sign of weakness.