“That is a mighty fine question indeed,” he said. “By the time I left the bar that night, I knew you weren’t the dealer. You were too inept. Too soft.” His gaze lowered to my chest, and then he glanced back up with a grin. “But if you were who you claimed to be, you’d have no reason to lie to the sheriff, and I know you did. Which means the boy warned you that they were crooked.”
It was on my lips to agree with him. To tell him he’d guessed correctly. So why didn’t I just tell him everything and be done with it?
Because I ran the risk of signing their death warrant. I suspected Bingham was his own judge, jury, and executioner.
He shifted in his seat, a knowing grin lighting up his face. “You know, the Alpine Inn is fairly close to your boyfriend’s garage.”
Panic swamped my thoughts, addling my senses. I quickly pulled myself together.
He knew.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, trying to sound stumped.
“A car alarm went off the night of Seth’s murder.”
“And how do you know that?”
“There were other people there that night,” Bingham said. “People who didn’t see things but heard them. Loud voices. A car alarm, then gunshots.” He leaned forward. “See, that’s the important part. The car alarm went off before the gunshots. Why do you suppose that was?”
Sweat broke out at the nape of my neck. “So you think someone saw something and set off the alarm?”
Confidence lit up his eyes. “I can understand your hesitation.” He held his hands out at his sides. “You’re holding cards I want. Cards I need to play my hand. You’re worried what I’ll do once I get ’em, but you ain’t got nothin’ to be worried about. I only go after my enemies.” His face changed, and I could see he was about to whip out intimidation tactics, just as I’d predicted.
He leaned in, within arm’s reach of me, and quirked a brow. “Are you my enemy, Carly Moore?”
Fear was a cold lump in my chest. “I’m no one’s enemy.”
“See, that’s not true. People standing in my way are my enemy, and you, Carly Moore are standing in my way.”
I glanced at his phone surprised it hadn’t gone to sleep. The timer was forty-three seconds from going off. “I promised you information the sheriff didn’t have.” By admitting this, I was letting him know I was aware of so much more, but with my person-of-interest status, the sheriff’s department was my greatest threat at the moment. Bingham was a very close second. Maybe I could take care of both at the same time by sending him after a deputy. “You were right about why I didn’t tell the sheriff’s department everything.”
His smile was full of evil. “Now we’re gettin’ somewhere.”
“Seth said it was a sheriff’s deputy who pulled the trigger.”
His eyes widened. “Is that so?”
“Didn’t expect that?”
He cocked his head and pursed his lips as though weighing his decision to answer. “No,” he finally said. “I didn’t.”
Then I told a lie. “He said three men confronted him in the parking lot, and a fourth man drove them away.”
His eyes narrowed. “What else did he share?”
“He wanted me to tell Hank that he was sorry.”
He gave a slight nod. “What else?”
The timer went off, and an annoyed look crossed his face.
I stood. “Looks like our time is done.”
He stood too. “Is it?”
“I don’t have anything else to share with you, Bingham.”
“Maybe you don’t want to share it, but you know more. That car alarm that went off before the boy was shot?” He paused. “That car was yours. I know that for a fact, and no one was at the garage at the time, which means you set it off.”
My heartbeat pulsed in my head.
He leaned closer. “Dwight Henderson crossed me. You don’t want you or your new friends to end up like him.” He took a step back and smiled. “I’ll give you some time to think about it.”
Then he walked past me and out of the library.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
What had happened to Dwight Henderson?
I closed my notebook and grabbed my purse, realizing I’d never once thought about using my gun. Then again, he hadn’t given me reason to, but the threat for the future was clear. What if I told him everything I knew and it wasn’t enough to appease him?
What if I’d handled this all wrong?
I shot out the front door and headed down the sidewalk toward the bar instead of Wyatt’s garage, because I needed to see my friends with my own eyes to make sure they were safe. But I caught something out of the corner of my eye, and I noticed Jerry standing next to the edge of Watson’s Café. When he saw me, he ducked his head and took off toward the Laundromat, in the opposite direction of the tavern and motel.
Was Jerry spying on me for Bingham? Even if there wasn’t a photo as he’d claimed, someone had reported seeing me with Wyatt. Bingham had said people had heard things in the motel parking lot. Had he meant Jerry?
I hustled to the tavern and burst through the door, worried the actual murderers would nab me off the street and make sure I took anything I might know to my grave. All the more reason to be open with Bingham, right?
But it felt so wrong.
“Carly,” Max said in surprise. “What are you doin’ here already? Your shift doesn’t start for a couple of hours.”
I took a look around the room and saw there were only two occupied tables—an older couple and a man who looked to be in his forties.
Ruth appeared at the entrance to the back. She paused when she saw me and hurried forward. “From the look on your face, you’ve heard the news.”
“What news?”
“Then you don’t know?”
“What happened?”
A peek at Max confirmed that he knew what she was talking about. He walked around to the front of the bar and shot a glance at the customers. “We should go in the back.”
“Is Hank okay?” I asked in a near panic. “Oh, my God. Is it Wyatt?”
Ruth’s nose scrunched with her confusion. “Wyatt?”
Max gently took my arm and guided me to the back, next to the food counter. “Detective Daniels was in here earlier, askin’ questions about what happened last night.” He paused and held my gaze. “Carly, Dwight Henderson was murdered.”
I felt myself start to sway.
Bingham had killed Dwight Henderson, and he’d bragged about it.
“Whoa there.” Max slipped an arm around my back to keep me upright.
“What happened?”
“Nobody seems to know,” Max said. “We only know they found his body by the dump outside of town.”
“Detective Daniels thinks I did it?” I whispered.
“He didn’t say that,” Ruth said reassuringly. “But he was askin’ a lot of questions about what happened here and what happened at the funeral home.”
“You didn’t see him last night after I dropped you off, did you?” Max asked. “He didn’t drop by and threaten you?”