“Damn,” she said under her breath, keeping her eyes on Marco, who was pulling draft beers. “That is one mighty fine-lookin’ man.”

“He’s not a long-term sort of guy, if that’s what you’re lookin’ for.” I couldn’t ignore the unsettled feeling in my gut. I’d spoken the truth, but for some reason, saying the words felt like a betrayal.

“I know I should be lookin’ for long term at my age, but short term will do,” she said, practically salivating. “I’ve had a long dry spell. The options around here are limited.”

I did a double take, then asked before I could stop myself, “Just how old are you?”

“Twenty-eight,” she said without appearing offended.

“And you think it’s time to settle down and get married?”

She scrunched up her face. “Don’t you? What are you, around twenty-nine? Thirty?”

In reality, I was thirty-one, about to turn thirty-two in June, but I couldn’t give her that answer.

“Thirty.” I’d just celebrated my new fake birthday back in March. Ruth had baked me a cake and brought it into work, and Max and Tiny had encouraged me to blow out all thirty candles. Marco had shown up at the tavern to give me a bouquet of flowers and a cheesy birthday card. And Hank…he’d gotten Ginger, the woman who cleaned the house and checked on Hank while I was working, to buy me a gift certificate to a salon in Ewing to have my hair cut and colored. When I’d thanked him with tears in my eyes, he’d gruffly told me that he was tired of me filling the house with poisonous gases every time I dyed my hair to cover my blonde roots with auburn, but that was just Hank being his ornery self. When I’d hugged him, he’d held me extra tight.

But Molly seemed to have taken my age to heart.

“Girl,” she said with her hands on her hips. “You are in serious trouble. Those eggs are dryin’ up as we speak.”

“I wouldn’t say that…”

“We’re hittin’ spinster land.”

“Ruth’s not married, and she’s thirty-seven.”

“Ruth ain’t nothin’ like us,” Molly said, curling her upper lip.

My protective instincts kicked in. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that Ruth does whatever she damn well pleases without giving anyone else a second thought.”

“So?” I asked, starting to let some attitude slip in. While Ruth could be judgmental and bossy, once you got on her good side, she had your back to the bitter end. If I told Ruth I’d killed a man, she’d be the first one to grab a shovel to help bury the body.

“Let’s just say that she’s never tried to fit in,” Molly said with an edge in her voice. “And she’s not above breakin’ up a happy home to get a man.” One of her customers gave her a wave. “Duty calls.”

I tried to hide my shock. Ruth had broken up a marriage? Was that what had ended her friendship with Molly’s sister?

I didn’t have time to ask her what she meant by that, and I didn’t want to ask Ruth, so I was left stewing all night until closing time. Max kicked everyone out at midnight, then told Ruth and Molly to be back to the tavern for the lunch shift and me to come in around three. Marco said it looked like the construction site would be shut down again, and Max expected another large crowd in the afternoon.

“Why not have Carly come in for the lunch shift too?” Ruth asked with a hand on her hip.

“You’ll have the next day off,” Max said in a tone that brooked no argument. “And once the site opens up, you won’t need to come in until three.”

That must have pacified Ruth, because she didn’t attempt to argue.

Ruth, Molly, and I sat down at a table, and I showed Molly how to add up our tips and how much to give the cooks. Then I realized that while Max didn’t take tips, it was customary to tip the bartenders. Which meant we needed to be taking some off for Wyatt and Marco.

“Max,” I called out. “How do you want to handle Wyatt’s and Marco’s tips?”

He gave me a long look. “Don’t you worry about it. I’ll put out a jar for them.”

I frowned, but I was too exhausted to worry about anything other than Wyatt. He hadn’t come back, and if Max had received a call from him, he hadn’t said a word. Nor had I seen him on the phone all night.

Once Molly was done counting her money, I sent her on home. Ruth had left too, and I went to look for Max and Marco in the office.

“Have you heard anything from Wyatt?” I blurted out.

A dark look filled Max’s eyes. “No.”

I ran my hand over my head in frustration. “Can we call the sheriff’s office and find out?” Then I glanced at Marco and realized I already had a source. “What am I thinkin’? Marco, can you find out?”

“No. I’m tryin’ to look impartial to all of this.”

I could see what he meant. He was Max Drummond’s close friend, and they had to worry about Marco being partial. Hadn’t Wyatt warned me about that very thing? “Do you know when we’ll find out?”

“No,” Max said with a sigh.

I turned back to Marco. “Do you think the construction site will open back up at some point tomorrow?”

“I’m not sure. I do know they’ve been lookin’ for more bodies, but so far they’ve only found the one. It might take another day or it might take a week.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Carly,” Max said with a sympathetic smile. “You’re beat. Go on home and get some rest. I’m sure Wyatt’s fine, so stop worryin’ and try to enjoy your afternoon off.”

“Yeah,” I said, then headed out the back door. Easier said than done.

Marco got up and followed me out the back door, seemingly lost in thought as he walked me to my car. When I opened the car door, he lightly touched my arm. “Are you okay?”

I blinked at him in surprise. “Yeah. Why are you asking?”

“You just seem worried about Wyatt.”

I stared at him in confusion, unsure where he was going with this. “Well, yeah, I’m sure Max is too.”

“Max is his brother.”

My eyes narrowed. “What aren’t you saying, Marco?”

He shook his head and glanced away. I gave him a moment, surprised to see him like this. Then again, someone we knew had been brought in for questioning after a pile of human bones had been found. The situation was serious, and his mood was warranted. He pulled me in for a hug, and I hugged him back, slightly confused when the embrace lasted longer than usual. When he released me, he gave me a soft smile. “I’m gonna follow you home.”

“That’s not necessary,” I said, still confused. “Blake and his friend never showed up. I don’t expect any trouble from either one of them.”

“There are bigger worries afoot than two drunk men.” He pulled his key fob out of his jeans pocket and motioned for me to get in the car.

He followed me close all the way home, pulling up behind me and watching me get out of the car. I started to walk toward him, but he lifted his hand in a wave goodbye, then left me thinking about what he’d last said to me.