“That fits with the timing too.”

“Pam probably found out that Jim Palmer got her daughter pregnant, let it simmer a bit, then went off and shot him. He put his house on the market because he was trying to leave town.”

“That’s pure speculation, Carly,” Marco said. “And it’s a lot of speculatin’. The biggest part of that speculation is that Palmer is the father. All we have is circumstantial evidence, which is slim at that. For all we know, Chuck’s lyin’ to get out of supportin’ his kid.”

“So we find Ashlynn and ask her.”

“That’s presumin’ she’ll tell the truth.”

Crap. He was right. About all of it.

“We’d need to corroborate this,” he said as he opened his container. “We’d need to check with her friends to see if any of them noticed a connection between the two.”

“Is there any point?” I said. “If Pam killed Jim Palmer because she thought he impregnated her daughter, nothing else matters. It means Bart didn’t make her do it.”

“We don’t know that Pam made the connection,” he said calmly. “We don’t know that Ashlynn had a relationship with him at all.”

I pushed out a sigh and opened my salad. “You’re right.”

Marco reached across the table and snagged my hand. “Do you want to let this go?”

Did I? Would I much rather revel in my newfound happiness with Marco? Absolutely. But happiness was fleeting, and my ability to hold on to it very much depended on Bart. I’d never be free until he and my father were off the streets.

“No. We’ll keep going for now, but if it becomes obvious Pam didn’t do it for a Bart favor, we’ll let it go.”

He squeezed my hand again before releasing it. “Okay. So we’ll finish lunch, then drive by Jonathon Whitmore’s place to see if Ashlynn’s there.”

“I found something else,” I said, pouring dressing on my salad, then mixing it around with my plastic fork. “Before the power went out, I did some research at the library on Rob Crimshaw and his father, Stewie.”

“I’m listening.”

“Rob was arrested for some bar fights and few DUIs about twenty years ago, but his father was arrested multiple times for drug possession, the last time with intent to sell.”

“How long ago?”

I pulled my notebook out of my bag, opened to the page, and told him about Stewart’s case. He’d been given a ten-year sentence after being caught with a large quantity of Oxy over eighteen years ago.

“He was arrested during Hank’s reign,” Marco said.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “But Hank swears he didn’t deal in that kind of stuff.”

“You confronted him about this?”

“No. But I’ve asked him about this kind of thing before.”

“I’ve heard that Bingham was hot on Hank’s tail back then, picking up what Hank didn’t cover. He likely worked with him.”

I hesitated, then lifted my gaze to Marco’s eyes. “When I asked Hank if he knew the Crimshaw family, he told me he knew Stewie. He said he had two sons and he was known for his temper.”

Marco took a bite and swallowed before he said, “If Stewie was in the drug world, then it stands to reason Hank knew him.”

“Because he was working for him?”

“Maybe because he was working for Bingham.”

I nodded and stabbed several lettuce leaves, but for some reason I wasn’t convinced. It bothered me that Hank hadn’t told me about Seth and Ricky being so close. I understood that he found it too painful to talk about Seth—I’d witnessed it a dozen different ways—but it was hard to believe that he wouldn’t realize the information was important to share.

Marco gave me a pensive look, like he was waiting for me to share what had made me so quiet, but I knew he wouldn’t push me to tell. He’d wait until I was ready. Call me a coward, but I wasn’t quite there yet. I didn’t want to face the possibility Hank had lied to me.

“I’ll see what I can pull up on Stewart and Rob Crimshaw,” he said. “But if Stewart received a ten-year sentence, he would have gotten out almost a decade ago.”

Thinking about Stewart Crimshaw getting out of prison put me in mind of Lula’s mother.

“Carnita said that Lula’s mother is getting out of prison soon.”

Marco’s brow rose.

“She also said Bingham and Lula are researching their family trees. Lula told her Bingham had tracked his back to the early 1800s.” When he didn’t respond, I said, “Don’t you think that’s odd?”

“Everyone’s exploring their family history these days.”

“Bingham doesn’t seem to be the sentimental type.”

“True…”

It was pointless to push the topic. It felt important somehow, but it wasn’t pertinent to what we were investigating. “Greta invited me to a girl’s afternoon with Lula.”

“Oh?” he said, looking pleased. “Are you going to go?”

“I wanted to, but she was thinking we’d do it this afternoon. She didn’t know Max would find a way to keep the tavern open.”

“That’s too bad,” he said, taking another bite of his lunch. “I know you like hanging out with them.”

I narrowed my eyes. I still found it hard to believe he encouraged me to hang out with Lula. Marco was a deputy sheriff, and Lula and Bingham had gotten married after their daughter was born. I’d told him so on several occasions, but he’d countered that to the best of his knowledge Lula wasn’t up to anything illegal, and I crossed Bingham’s path often enough that it wasn’t a bad idea for me to stay on his wife’s good side.

“I’d like to talk to the parents of Thad’s friend, the one who was in the accident with him,” I said, “but I don’t know how to approach them.”

“I wonder if they attend the same church,” Marco said. “We could always attend a church service.”

I gave him a wicked grin. “Such deviousness in church, Officer Roland?”

He lifted his shoulder into a shrug. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s done something devious, and it definitely won’t be the last.”

“I still haven’t called Karl Lister, but there’s no subtle way to go about that conversation either.”

Marco pressed his lips together. “I put in a request for the paperwork on the civil lawsuit. I haven’t gotten it yet, so maybe hold off until I do.”

“What if someone finds out you’re digging into it?” I asked.

“Don’t worry. My source at the courthouse won’t tell.”

“Rosemarie?”

He looked surprised. “How’d you know?”

I raised my brow. “That’s who Miss Thelma told me to go see about the case paperwork. Obviously, she comes highly recommended.”

“I guess Thelma Tureen knows something about just about everyone.”

“Unfortunately, not everyone.”

We finished our lunch fairly quickly, then headed back to the car to drive by Jonathon Whitmore’s house.