I took it as a reminder that if someone was offering you something for nothing, they usually had other motives in play. Especially in Drum.

Turned out I was adopting that philosophy as my own.

The building needed to be torn down, but a few women had created a historical society and convinced the citizens it was an important part of Drum history. And while the townsfolk had agreed to keep it, they hadn’t loosened their purse strings to fix it up either.

You couldn’t go in it, nor anywhere close to it—it was surrounded by a chain-link fence, covered by a thick canopy of tree branches—but there was a picnic table a few feet from the fence. There was a small parking area in front of it—trampled grass—and it was a known picnic area…or make-out spot. Often both.

“Did you bring me here to make out, Marco?” I teased as he put the vehicle in park.

He turned off the engine and stared out the windshield at the creek. “I might try if I thought it would make a difference.”

“Your skills are that magical?” I asked in a wry tone.

He turned to look at me, but there was no teasing glint in his eyes—I saw all the marks of a tortured soul. “I think it’s time for us to come up with a plan to get you out of town.”

I jolted, unprepared for his statement. “You want me to leave Drum?”

“Selfishly, no. God, no.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I don’t even want to think about life without you, but I care about you, Carly, and you’re not just playin’ with fire, you’re takin’ on a ragin’ inferno.”

“He’s one man, Marco. One man.”

“He is not just one man, and underestimatin’ him will be your downfall.” He took a breath. “Bart Drummond is cunning. You think Max and I never tried to best him over the years? It became a competition to Max, his F-you for all those years Bart overlooked him and rained down all his blessings on Wyatt. He never succeeded, Carly. We never succeeded. Bart found out every. Damn. Time. He knows exactly what you are up to right now—before you’ve even started doin’ it. Why do you think he invited you to tea with Emily? Why do you think he took you over to that hole and asked you to tell him what you found? He knew you’d look into Heather’s murder, and he knows you intend to use it against him.”

“So you’re tellin’ me to just let it go? Let the sheriff’s department arrest Wyatt for a murder he didn’t commit?”

“How do you know he didn’t commit it?” he said, his voice rising. “What makes you so damn sure?”

I was taken aback by his anger. “Because the man I got to know wouldn’t do that.”

“People can surprise you, Carly. In bad ways as well as good. Think about your childhood friend, the one you were supposed to marry. Did you ever think he might be capable of murder? Of murdering you?”

Tears stung my eyes, because he was right. About all of it.

He grabbed my hand and held on tight, his eyes burning green with intensity. “I will never hurt you, Carly, and I will never lie to you either. Because I know you’ll never, ever trust me again the moment you catch me in a single lie. I’m tellin’ you right now to leave this alone. Let it go. I’ve racked my brain tryin’ to figure a way to get you out of this, and all I ever come up with is a lot of nothing. Which is why we should move on to plan B,” he said, glancing down at the food bag. “We need to get you out of Drum.”

“What about Hank?”

“I’ll find a way to protect Hank, even if it means gettin’ him out of town too.”

“He’d never go, Marco, and if he did agree to leave, I’d bring him with me.”

His gaze lifted to mine. “You can’t do that, Carly. Do you know how conspicuous you’d be together, a beautiful thirty-year-old woman travelin’ with a one-legged older man? When you run, you need to hide.”

I didn’t say anything, because as much as it hurt to admit, he was right. When I ran, I’d lose everyone I cared about. Again.

The thought lit a fire in me. I was done being jerked around and manipulated. I wasn’t losing Hank and I wasn’t losing Marco. I was standing my ground. I was getting justice.

My jaw tightened. “No. I’m not going.”

“Why?” he pleaded. “To save Wyatt? A man who lied to you and broke your heart?”

I looked up at him, my voice breaking. “It’s complicated, Marco.”

“I’m in no hurry. Why don’t you explain it to me? Help me understand.”

“It started off as helping Wyatt, but you’re right. Most of his lies have been lies of omission, but they’re lies nonetheless.” I paused for a moment to consider it. “Several people want me dead, Marco. And if Bingham hadn’t found me last December, for all I know, I’d be buried in a mountainside too. Right next to Greta.” I shivered at the memory. “They probably would have pinned our deaths on Bingham—on the obvious suspect—and doing that wouldn’t have brought me justice, just like it won’t bring Heather justice. I want the person who really killed her to be held responsible.”

“You mean you don’t trust the Hensen County Sheriff’s Department to conduct a fair and thorough investigation?” There was just a hint of humor in his voice—both of us knew there were probably more corrupt cops than not. He’d admitted as much in the course of our search for Lula and Greta.

“Can you honestly say you do?”

He pushed out a long sigh. “What else is pushin’ you to do this?”

“That threat hangin’ over Hank’s head. If I can’t figure out a way to make Bart pay for all he’s done, he’s going to keep playing me like a fiddle. Do you expect me to leave him at Bart’s mercy? How do you expect me to leave him at all?”

“Hank would hate that Bart’s usin’ him as a threat to you.”

“Which is why we can’t tell him,” I insisted. “Because then he’ll force me to go.”

“Don’t you see you’re lying to him too? One of those lies of omission?”

I covered my face with my hands, realizing he was right.

He pulled my hands away, lowering his head so we were eye to eye.

“I don’t want to leave him, Marco. I have to stay.”

“I know he’s like a father to you, but he wouldn’t want you riskin’ your life. You know that.”

“I’m tired of running,” I said in a whisper. “I’ve been running from my father like a coward. Maybe it’s time to take a stand.”

“Then I’ll help you take a stand against your father, but leave Bart Drummond out of it.”

My mouth parted in shock. “You’d help me take on my father?”

“If that’s what it takes to make sure you’re safe, then yeah.” He sat up straighter. “Isn’t that what Wyatt promised and failed to deliver?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. It was a rhetorical question. “My father is part of an international drug cartel. You think Bart’s tough? He’s a cakewalk compared to Randall Blakely.” I shook my head, my voice calm and even. “No. I start with Bart because he’s practice for the big leagues and he was behind Seth’s death. He may not have pulled the trigger, but he was part of it, and I’m going to make sure he pays for that.”