“He was your youth group leader, right?”

She rolled her eyes. “He wasn’t the only one, and he was only part-time at that. There were two other couples who ran it.”

“But his wife never helped much,” Jonathon said. “The last year or two it was just him.”

“What kinds of activities did you do?” I asked. “I saw Ricky pulling weeds. Did they have you do other kinds of work around the church?”

“Hell, yeah,” Jonathan said. “We were like free labor. They called them service projects.”

“Like what?” I pressed.

“Usually stuff outside.”

“Like landscaping?” Marco asked.

“Yeah,” Jonathon said. “And fixing up the playground.”

“Did you do any other service projects?” Marco asked.

“Sometimes,” Jonathon said. “We helped at the food bank. We also worked on older people’s yards.”

“Like mowing and weeding?” Marco asked.

“And raking leaves.”

“Did you do anything fun?” I asked. I’d never spent any time in church so I wasn’t sure what youth groups usually did.

“We went to Dollywood every year,” he said. “That was fun. And we took a yearly trip to see the Grand Ole Opry Christmas display. We’d stay at the hotel and take gondola rides and stuff.”

“Did Jim’s wife go?” I asked.

Ashlynn shifted her weight and crossed her arms, looking uncomfortable, but Jonathon was oblivious. “No. He said she had to stay home with their kids, but the Johnsons have kids too, and both of them always went.”

Sounded like a great opportunity for a man to get a young girl alone and take advantage of her. Especially if his wife wasn’t around.

“Ashlynn, did your mom know Jim Palmer before she killed him?”

She’d denied it before, and she had no reason to tell me any different now. She had no reason to tell me anything. Her lower lip jutting out, she said, “They never had anything to do with each other. My mama ran the nursery and if she talked to a youth leader, it was either Fred Johnson or his wife Patricia. Like I said, Jim wasn’t there all the time.”

“Did you like Jim?” I asked.

“He was okay,” Jonathon said. “But the Johnsons were funner.”

“What about you, Ashlynn?” I asked.

Her gaze darted away. “He was all right.”

Then, because we’d gotten this far, I decided to go for broke. “Did he ever do anything…inappropriate?”

Her eyes widened with a panicked look. “Why do you keep askin’ all these questions? None of this is any of your business!”

Then she slammed the door in our faces.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Well, that went well,” I said sarcastically after we got into the car.

“Actually, it went better than I expected,” he said.

I backed the car out of the driveway, desperate to get as far away from this mess as possible.

“Carly when you’re investigatin’ a case, you have to ask uncomfortable questions. Sometimes makin’ them uncomfortable is the best way to get an answer.”

“Sure, that works if you’re a sheriff deputy, but I’m a nosy waitress. We might have just alerted Bart that we’re looking into this.”

Even if it was starting to look like he might not have played a part in Jim’s death. Because he would know why we were looking into it…and I didn’t need him knowing I was taking an interest in his favors.

“I doubt he’ll find out from Ashlynn. She’d rather keep this whole mess quiet.”

I backed out onto the road, then headed down the mountain. “I thought you were going to stay out of it,” I said in a snippy tone.

“I was, but I figured it was more of a conversation than an interrogation, so I might as well participate.”

I shot him a look of challenge.

“Okay, so maybe it wasn’t totally conversational, but it was close.”

“Marco.”

“I’m fine. It’ll be fine.”

I reached over and snagged his hand. “Please don’t get yourself into trouble over me.”

“Carly, I was in trouble the minute I saw you searchin’ Lula’s cabin last December.”

He’d liked me for that long? But he was trying to distract me, and I couldn’t let him do it. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” he said softly, squeezing my hand. “It’ll be fine. I promise.”

I shook my head. “You can’t promise any such thing.”

“Okay,” he said. “You’re right. But I truly think it will be all right. Trust me.”

I pushed out a breath, my heart racing. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to Marco because of me, and not just because of the guilt. I wanted him in my life. Always.

“What’s goin’ through that beautiful head of yours?” he asked, sounding worried.

I almost told him nothing, then reminded myself I was going to be honest about my feelings. “I’m scared for you.”

“Carly. I’ll be fine.”

Tears filled my eyes, making my vision blurry. “We don’t know that. Now that we’re together, I wouldn’t put it past Bart to kill you just to spite me.”

“Pull over.”

“What?”

“Just pull over.” He pointed through the windshield. “There’s a turnoff up ahead.”

“You’re gonna be late getting back to the station.”

“I don’t care. Pull over.”

I nearly told him no, but the tears weren’t going away, and I was smart enough to know that driving on this road was dangerous with obscured vision. I turned onto the small dirt road and put the car in park.

He leaned over the console and cupped my face, turning my head gently until I was looking at him.

“I’m scared for you, Marco. I never should have dragged you into my mess. I never should have let myself do this.”

“Do what?”

“Love you.”

A soft smile spread across his face. “Sweetheart, you’ve loved me for months. I don’t think you could have stopped even if you’d wanted to.”

I released a short laugh even as tears streamed down my cheeks. “Arrogant much?”

He grinned, his eyes lighting up. “Loving me and being with me are two different things. And we both know that Bart already knows we matter to each other. Whether we’re together or not.”

He was right. I knew it yet I was terrified for him.

“Carly.” He said my name so tenderly, fresh tears stung my eyes. “We’re gonna get through this, okay?”

I nodded, because what else could I do?

He wiped my tears with his thumb. “Do you want me to drive?”

“No. I think I’ve gotten ahold of myself.”

“Let’s take a couple of days off from the investigation. Let things settle down some.” He gave me a soft smile. “You need rest.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

He leaned over and kissed me, his lips tender, and I lifted my hand to the back of his neck and sank my fingers through his hair.