He didn’t answer, but the boy I presumed to be his brother, Thad, said, “They were.”

“What was he like?” I asked.

Ricky didn’t answer at first, but then he swallowed audibly. His gaze was still on the TV screen, but I realized his avatar hadn’t moved since I’d asked about Seth. “He was cool,” he finally said.

“He was funny,” Thad said. “At least until his mom died. Then he turned serious.”

“I’m sure that was hard on him,” I said.

Ricky shrugged, looking indifferent. “She was a meth head.”

“But he loved her anyway,” I said softly. “He died trying to find out who was responsible for her death.”

He didn’t answer.

“She screwed up,” I said, “but he still loved her. We can’t turn that off just because someone has disappointed us.”

His head jerked up, his eyes locked on mine. “You think you’re a psychologist or something? You’re nothing but an old waitress at a dumpy bar.”

His remark was meant to sting, and it did, but I saw the pain in his eyes. “No,” I said, my voice tight. “I’m just a woman who has been disappointed by many of the people in my life, so I get wanting to understand.” I gave him a tight smile. “I’d love to know more about Seth. If you ever feel like talking about him, call me or drop by at the tavern.”

He gave me a long look, then turned back to the TV and said in a flippant tone, “Whatever.”

Thad glanced between me and his brother, then shrugged and headed into the kitchen.

There was nothing else to say, so I headed out the door, wondering if I’d just wasted my time and made Ricky feel worse. At least I’d given them a home-cooked meal.

I stopped next to my car, wondering if I should still try to talk to Ashlynn. For all I knew, she was at work. But then I saw one of the curtains in the front of the trailer flutter, as though someone had been watching me. Seconds later, the side door opened, and a young woman with long dark brown hair stepped out onto the wooden steps. Her maternity shirt was worn, and the pattern was something that had been popular over a decade ago.

“I ain’t never seen you here before,” she said with a wary look.

“I’ve never been here before.” I smiled, hoping it would give me a non-threatening appearance. “I’m a waitress at Max’s. Your mother came in every couple of weeks with her friends, and I got to know her pretty well. I heard about what happened and wanted to bring y’all some dinner.”

“How’d you know I was her daughter?” she asked, her voice pinched.

“Sandy told me you lived in a trailer next to your mother’s house. She said it would be okay if I brought y’all food.”

“You ain’t supposed to bring food today,” she said. “Nora Burgess is on the schedule for today.”

“Sandy suggested y’all might like havin’ another option.”

A slow smile spread across her face. “Nora can’t cook worth shit.”

I grinned at her. “So I heard.”

She started down the steps, and as she turned, I noticed the rounded belly under her loose shirt. “You say you work at the tavern?” she asked in a much friendlier tone than moments before. “You’re the new waitress. The one who found Seth.”

“Yeah,” I said in surprise, not because she’d heard of me, but because of the familiar way she said Seth’s name. “Did you know Seth?”

“Sure did. He was Ricky’s best friend.”

I let that sink in for a couple of seconds as she closed the distance between us.

Did Hank know that? Had he lied to me when he’d said he didn’t know much about Pam and her family?

A breeze kicked up, blowing stray hairs from my face. I reached up to brush them away. “I asked Ricky if he knew Seth, but he kind of blew me off.”

“He didn’t handle his death very good.”

“Do you think he knew what Seth was up to?”

“Sure. He was trying to find out who gave his mother the bad drugs, and workin’ with Todd Bingham to do it.” She made a face. “Not many people know about that part, but Ricky did.”

“It makes sense that he’d know, seeing how they were best friends. Did Ricky tell you anything about what Seth found out?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. He never talked about it. Even when Dad tried to beat it out of him.”

I cringed. “Your dad doesn’t approve of Bingham?”

She snorted. “Nope. Thinks he’s white trash.” She cocked a brow in challenge. “Don’t you?”

I hesitated before answering, “Bingham is a customer at Max’s.”

She released a short laugh. “Good answer.”

“He’s a complex man.”

“Even better answer,” she said with a grin.

“I’m sorry about your mother. I couldn’t believe it when I heard the news. It just seems so unlike her.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “None of us saw this comin’, that’s for sure.”

“Did she know him?”

“No,” she said, wiping away a tear. “As far as I know, she’d never talked to the man before.”

Something hardened in me, watching her grief for her mother. Bart had done this. I was more sure of that than ever.

“Does the sheriff have any idea why she might have done it?”

Bitterness filled her eyes. “They don’t care. Case closed. And even if they did, they wouldn’t tell us nothin’. They keep sayin’ it’s an ongoin’ investigation.”

Pushing out a sigh, I shifted my weight. “Been there, done that. I was a person of interest in Seth’s murder, which is why they didn’t tell me anything, but they didn’t talk to Hank either.”

“It ain’t right,” Ashlynn said, more tears tracking down her cheeks. “Our lives were turned upside down too.”

“I know,” I forced past the lump growing in my throat. “You want answers to make sense of it all. We wanted them too. I guess we still do.”

She gave me a look of surprise. “I thought they knew what happened.”

“We have multiple pieces, but it feels like some of the puzzle is missing. We know why he was there and what he was doing, but how did he get into that motel room? How did he know that’s where the deal was supposed to go down?” I felt awful telling her a fib. The truth was we knew how he got there—Bingham. But there were still plenty of pieces missing, especially since the video footage he’d died to obtain was gone, erased by someone we still hadn’t identified.

Being here, talking to these people who’d known him, I realized that I still wanted to know more about him. I’d just refrained from asking Hank because I knew it hurt him too much to talk about what he’d lost.

More tears fell down her face. “I just want to tell her I love her and that I forgive her.”

“Have you tried to go see her?”

She shook her head. “My dad won’t take me, and I don’t have a car.”

I tried to hide my surprise. “Do you want to go see her?” She hesitated, so I added, “I’d be happy to take you. I have to go to Ewing anyway.”