“What?” It took me a second to realize what he was talking about. “No. I haven’t seen him since the night Wyatt punched him.” I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “Which brings me to the other reason I’m here: Wyatt dropped by Hank’s this morning. Lookin’ for me.”

Marco’s eyes darkened. “What for?”

“He wants me to help clear his name. While he wasn’t arrested, he’s sure he’s suspect number one.”

“He is,” Marco said with a frown. “How’d he take it when you turned him down?”

“Well…”

Disappointment filled his eyes, but it quickly disappeared. “You didn’t turn him down.”

“No.”

He nodded and turned his gaze to the giant hole in the earth. “Why are you helpin’ him?”

“Because I don’t think he killed her.” When he didn’t answer, I said, “Do you think he did it?”

“No.”

“But you’re not happy I’m lookin’ into it.”

“I’m not,” he said. “It’s an active investigation, for one thing, which means you could get slapped with a charge of obstructin’ an investigation.”

“They can do that?” I asked in surprise.

“Yeah, Carly,” he said, sounding irritated. “They can do that.”

“Why are you mad at me?” I asked, trying not to sound hurt.

“I’m not mad at you. I’m pissed at him for puttin’ you in this position. He had no right to ask you, Carly, but he was countin’ on you bein’ too nice to say no.”

“Is that why you think I’m doin’ it?” I asked, starting to get pissed myself. “Because I’m too nice to say no?”

He gave me a sad smile. “No. I think you’d say no if you didn’t want to do it.”

“But you’re disappointed in me for saying yes.”

“No,” he said, but then he shrugged. “Yes. Look, I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

He had a point—he’d been there to help me pick up the pieces of my heart after it had been broken in December.

“I have an ulterior motive for doin’ this, Marco,” I said in a whisper. “I know Heather’s murder has ties to Bart Drummond. I’m gonna figure out how.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

As if on cue, Bart’s voice called out from the trees. “Why, is that Carly Moore I spot on my property?”

I gave Marco a tight smile, then turned to face the Drummond patriarch. I hadn’t seen Bart since the meeting he’d summoned me to in his office, and I sure as hell didn’t intend to cower to him. I only hoped I didn’t get Marco in trouble.

“Curiosity got the cat?” Bart asked as he strolled toward us.

“Over an empty hole in the ground?” I asked in a bored tone. “You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. I’m here to see Marco.”

“I heard you two are an item, yet not,” he said, his gaze jumping from me to Marco then back again.

A shiver ran down my back. It didn’t surprise me that Bart was aware of our friendship—he was the kind of man who made it his business to know things—but it was still unnerving. I’d already landed a target on Hank—would my friendship with Marco put him in danger too?

“We’re just friends,” I said.

“Very good friends,” Marco said in a deep voice.

Bart grinned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Relationships these days. All that swipin’ right and left.”

“Not much of that goin’ on in Drum,” I said before I could stop myself. “Not with the limited access to internet and cell phone coverage.”

“Funny you should mention that,” Bart said, his eyes lighting up. “All that’s about to change. I’ve got a commitment from two cell phone carriers to add towers close to the resort. We’ll soon have access to the outside world.”

My blood ran cold. I’d heard rumblings about that before, but the way he said it made it sound like it would be happening sooner rather than later. I knew what he was telling me. Or rather threatening. My anonymity wouldn’t last much longer.

“What are you doin’ back at the crime scene?” Marco asked, and I was sure he used the term crime scene to antagonize Bart.

From the look on Bart’s face, it had worked. But the irritation quickly faded, replaced with the fake-as-could-be pleased look he seemed to wear most of the time. “I’m eager to get construction back on track. What’s the word, Deputy Roland?”

“I’m hearing it should be released any time now.”

“Perhaps you could give them a call and see what’s what?” Bart suggested.

Marco was about to say something when the radio close to his shoulder squawked. He picked up the mic and pressed the button. “Deputy Roland.”

There was a second of static, then a male voice. “Deputy, the all clear has been given for the construction site.”

“Copy that.” Marco hooked his mic back onto his shirt and gave Bart a deadpan look. “Well, what do you know? It’s like you’re psychic.”

Bart smiled. “Oh, a little birdie might have told me the order had been given to release the construction site. You’ll always be a step behind, Marco. Always. Best keep that in mind.” He grabbed the evidence tape and gave it a hard jerk, his eyes glittering with evil.

I was about to blast him when the other deputy rounded the corner and shouted in alarm, “You can’t do that!”

“He can,” Marco said. “We just got the all clear.”

“Carly, would you like to see where the bones were buried?” Bart asked, “Oh, come now. Don’t be shy. Or perhaps you’re frightened,” he cajoled,

I was scared, but not of the hole or the bones. I was scared of what Bart Drummond had up his sleeve now. “Sure,” I said, trying to sound breezy. “Why not?”

“Carly,” Marco warned in a low undertone I was fairly sure Bart couldn’t hear. The radio squawked again, and he cursed under his breath.

Ignoring him, I stepped over the ripped-down yellow tape, toward the right side of the hole.

“I hear the bones were buried over here in that shallower area to the left,” Bart said as I approached, waving his hand in a sweeping motion. “About three feet deep. Why do you think that is?”

“I couldn’t say, Mr. Drummond.”

He smirked. “Mr. Drummond. So respectful.”

I held my tongue. Any answer I gave him would only feed his ego.

“I’m not a law enforcement officer,” Bart said in a slow drawl, “but I would think it meant whoever did it was in a hurry to dispose of her body.”

“I suppose you would know,” I said in a dry tone.

He laughed. “I know you don’t have a high opinion of me, Ms. Moore, but I’m not a stupid man. And only a stupid man would hire an excavation crew to dig in an area where he’d buried someone.”

“Perhaps you didn’t know where she was buried,” I challenged.

“I would make it my business to know where every body on my property was buried,” he said with a gleam in his eyes. “Hypothetically speaking, of course.”