“Just don’t steal my girl,” Marco teased.

“I know she’s yours,” he joked. A slow song came on, and Jerry held out his arms.

I put my hands on Jerry’s thin shoulders, pleased that he smelled like aftershave and not the cheap soap Max stocked in the bathrooms at the Alpine Inn. Despite my worry, I was happy to see him doing so well.

His hands rested on my waist and we stood about a foot apart as we swayed to the music.

“I’m so glad you came,” I said, my voice breaking. “I’ve missed you.”

“I didn’t move away,” he said with a smile. “Just moved on to bigger and better things. I’ve got my own cabin on the Drummond property. With curtains and everything. The Drummond housekeeper even said she’d change my linens and towels.”

“That all sounds wonderful, Jerry. I’m very happy for you.”

“I know you think I’m foolish,” he said, glancing down. “But it all seems on the up and up.”

“Jerry.” His gaze lifted to mine. “You are an amazing man, and Bart Drummond is damn lucky to have you. But if at any time you feel that’s changed, you tell me, okay? Don’t worry about where you’ll stay or anything. You can always stay with us. Just tell me, and we’ll sort it out. Together.”

He made a wry face. “You think Hank Chalmers would let me stay with him?” He released a sharp laugh, then shrugged. “Maybe he’s changed.”

I stared at him in surprise. “You and Hank have bad blood, Jerry?”

“It was a misunderstanding,” Jerry said, then waved his hand. “I’m sure he’s plumb forgotten.”

Did it have anything to do with Hank’s daughter? It had only recently come to light that Jerry had witnessed a sheriff’s deputy murder Barb’s boyfriend. But Jerry, terrified for his life, had kept it to himself.

“I’m glad you’re with Marco and not the other Drummond boy,” Jerry said.

“Wyatt?”

He nodded. “He’s up to something no good. I can feel it.”

I frowned. “Like what?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Got no proof. Just a feelin’. He’s not gonna like it that you’re with Marco, so you both better watch your backs.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “You think he’d hurt one of us?”

“Nah,” he said with a grimace. “But the Drummonds have plenty of other ways.”

“If you don’t trust the Drummonds, then why are you workin’ for them?” I asked.

He grinned, but it seemed forced. “Now who said I don’t trust all of ’em?”

Then the song changed, and he whirled me around with more energy than I would have expected. We laughed and danced, and when the song ended, he kissed me on the cheek. “Your man’s waitin’ for you. Thank you for sparin’ a couple of dances for me.”

“There’s always room on my dance card for you, Jerry.”

Marco swooped in as Jerry headed over to join a group of men. “Let’s get a drink.”

“Sounds good.” I’d never drunk my beer, and I’d left my water at the Genslers’ table.

Max was still working at the bar even though he didn’t have any customers at the moment.

“I thought you were going to leave this to the honor system,” I told him when we reached the table.

“Those boys are still circling like sharks and I don’t want to lose my liquor license.” He nodded his head toward Ricky’s group of teens and then shot a wink at Marco.

“Where’s Wyatt?” I asked.

“He’s runnin’ an errand. In fact, I’m surprised he’s not back yet.”

“You need a break,” I said. “Let me take over so you can circulate and maybe even dance with a pretty girl.” I waggled my eyebrows. “I’ve noticed a few eyeing you.”

He hesitated instead of outright telling me no, so I gave Marco an apologetic smile, then walked around the table and gave Max a tiny shove. “Go. Have some fun. Reap the fruit of your labors.”

“Fruit of your labors?” Max asked with a chuckle.

I rolled my eyes. “Just go with it.”

“She’s right,” Marco said, walking around the other side. “Go have some fun. We’ll run the table until Wyatt shows up.”

Max looked uncertain, then he stood up straighter. “Okay. I think I will.” And he poured himself a beer and headed out into the crowd.

“I hope this was okay,” I said, “but Max deserves to have some fun too.”

“It was a good call,” he said. “I should have thought of it, but all I could think about was you.”

I stretched up and gave him a kiss, then turned around to check out the cooler situation. “Let’s organize the drinks while we’re waiting for our next customer. I bet we can get rid of some of these.”

“Good idea.”

Five of them were nearly empty, so we moved the cans and bottles to the fuller containers, then Marco dragged the empty coolers to the back door to dump out in the kitchen sink.

He’d just gone inside when a man with a limp approached the table. He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans. His brown hair was short, and he had a trimmed beard. I would have guessed him to be in his thirties, but something in his eyes made him look older.

“What can I get you?” I asked cheerfully. I had to hand it to Max. Quite a few of the people who’d come to the event had never been to the tavern before, this man included. “We have draft beer, bottled water, and some soft drinks.”

“Uh…a beer sounds good,” he said, looking around like he was checking the place out.

“Did you just get here?” I asked as I grabbed a cup.

“About a half hour ago.” He turned back to me. “I hear you’re Carly.”

The fact that he knew me made me a little nervous, but it wasn’t all that uncommon since I’d started tutoring, not to mention I had some notoriety after Seth’s murder. I held the cup under the tap and started filling it. “That’s me.”

“My name is Karl Lister.”

My heart skipped a beat, but I tried to keep my cool. I did a quick scan of the crowd. No Bart, but that didn’t mean much—there were plenty of people for him to skulk behind. “Hi, Karl.”

“I’m sorry to just show up like this, but I heard you’re asking a lot of questions about Pam Crimshaw.”

So much for flying under the radar.

He leaned closer. “I’m here because of Thelma.”

I pushed out a sigh of relief. “How do you know Thelma?” Because she’d claimed she didn’t know him.

“My aunt is friends with Thelma’s hairdresser.”

I released a chuckle. “Six degrees of Thelma Tureen.”

His nose wrinkled in confusion. “What?”

“Never mind.”

“I told her I’d come by the tavern tonight, but then I saw it was closed.”

“Yeah, the electricity’s out.” His gaze took in the lights overhead and I added, “Max has a couple of generators.” I finished filling his cup but didn’t hand it to him. “That’ll be three dollars.”