This man was confusing the hell out of me.
“If you keep my name out of this mess, then I’ll work with you,” Wyatt continued, squatting to slide his gun into an ankle holster. He held my gaze, his voice softer now. “Last November, you said you wanted my help to bring my father down. I’m ready to help you now. We can do it together, but I can’t help you if I’m in jail.”
The sirens came to a stop overhead, and a man shouted, “Deputy Roland? Are you down there?”
“We’re here,” Marco yelled back. “I need an ambulance for Carly!”
Wyatt’s eyes widened as he stared at me.
“Calling it in now!” the deputy returned.
“Fine,” Marco said, shooting Wyatt a scathing glance as he reached over and snatched his weapon off the ground. “We’ll hold your name for now. I’ll say you came down and ran Derek Carpenter off because he didn’t want any witnesses. But if you double-cross Carly, I’ll withdraw my statement and throw you to the wolves.”
“You’ll be throwin’ yourself too,” Wyatt said, his voice tight. “You’ll lose your job.”
“So be it,” Marco said flippantly.
“No, Marco,” I protested. “It’s not worth it.” It was one more compromise. One more chip off his principles. One more gouge in his soul…or me. I didn’t want to be responsible for that.
He ignored me. “How do you plan to keep Derek from talkin’?”
“You don’t need to worry about Derek tellin’ anyone anythin’.” Then Wyatt started up the hill. I could hear him shouting to the deputy that he’d found the accident and overheard a man threatening us. That the guy had realized he was there and taken off.
“How does he plan to keep Derek quiet?” I whispered.
“I don’t know,” Marco said with a furrowed brow.
“Do you think he’ll kill him?”
“A year ago, I would have said no. Now . . .” His voice trailed off. “Now I’m not sure.”
I tried to get up, but Marco nudged me back down. “Just wait here. EMT’s will come down to get you.”
I shook my head, ignoring the pain. “No. Who knows when they’ll get here. I’m walking up.”
“I think you have broken ribs, Carly. Not to mention a possible concussion.”
“So help me up,” I said. “I can’t stay down here, wondering if Derek is comin’ back to finish the job.”
“Okay,” he said grudgingly.
He pulled me to a standing position, then wrapped the arm of my uninjured side over his shoulder, and we slowly started up the hill. Halfway up, the deputy who’d responded came down to help, but Marco waved him away and helped me the rest of the way up. By the time we got to the top, I was light-headed and covered in sweat, but I felt immensely safer.
Until I saw Wyatt standing to the side, giving a formal statement to the deputy.
Lying through his teeth.
Marco helped me into the front passenger seat of the deputy’s car while we waited for the ambulance. He left the door open and stood next to me, watching Wyatt, and I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d made a mistake letting him off.
I closed my eyes, and was about to drift off to sleep when I smelled smoke.
“I think I have a concussion,” I said. “Is smelling smoke a sign?”
Marco straighened. “No. I smell it too.”
Then he moved to the edge of the shoulder.
“Marco—”
An explosion fractured the air. Marco, Wyatt, and the deputy all hit the ground. Shock radiated through me, and in its wake, I realized Marco’s Explorer had just exploded.
He scrambled to his feet and rushed to check me. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. What about you?”
“I’m fine,” he said, sounding irritated. His gaze dropped down the hill to the ball of flames. “The phone was in there. There went our evidence for a case against Derek and Louise, not to mention the safe-deposit box key.”
“I have photos on the camera,” I reminded him.
“Which makes you a witness to a break-in at my house that we never reported,” he said.
Crap. He was right.
I shot a glance at Wyatt. He was staring down the hill with a knowing look. I couldn’t help thinking he was about to double-cross us. Then his gaze shifted to me, and I knew deep in my gut somehow he’d been responsible for that explosion. He’d started that fire.
He was working on some master scheme. I only hoped it would work out in my favor.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Okay,” Marco said as he opened his front door. “Let’s get you settled.”
He wrapped an arm around my back and ushered me inside. A mountain of pillows was stacked up on the sofa, as well as a rectangular box wrapped in white paper and topped with a red bow.
“What’s that?” I asked as he led me to the sofa.
“Nothin’ gets past you,” he said with a laugh.
“It’s sitting right out in the open,” I said in exasperation. “I’d have to be blind to miss it.”
“It’s a welcome home, I’m glad you didn’t die present.”
“My favorite kind,” I said as I sat down.
I’d been released from the hospital in Greeneville that morning after a two-night stay. I wasn’t happy about that, especially since I was mostly fine—my concussion had been mild, and although my ribs were badly bruised, they weren’t broken. Then there was the fact that I didn’t have any health insurance. But Hank had come the day after I was admitted and told me not to worry about a thing.
“It’s a father’s job to take care of his daughter.”
“Hank,” I’d protested. “My hospital bill is not your responsibility.”
He’d walked over to my hospital bed and clasped my hand. “Carly, girl. It’s not gonna be a hardship.”
I gasped. “Marco told you.”
He nodded.
“Did you check? Is it there?”
He winked. “Not anymore.”
“So what are you going to do now?” I asked. “Move to Florida?”
“I’m not gonna do a damn thing,” he said. “I like my house and my life. Why change it?”
“But you got your money back.”
“It was the principle of it. It was mine, and I get to decide what to do with it. And the first thing I intend to do is pay for your hospital bill.”
“Hank, I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s nothin’ to say. And another thing, you don’t have to work at the tavern anymore. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”
I stared at him in disbelief, and then I realized something. Even if I didn’t have to do it anymore, I wanted to. “I like working at the tavern.”
Besides, Max and Tiny would have my back. My father was still out there, and I was far more exposed than I had been.
He grinned. “I had a feelin’ you’d say that, but if you ever change your mind, you let me know.”
“You didn’t . . . hurt Big Joe, did you?”