“You mean other than tryin’ to make Drummond jealous?” he asked.

“Was that her motive?”

He pushed out a breath. “I’m sure that was part of her intention, but you’re right. I got the impression she was tryin’ to get information out of me.”

“Did you tell her anything?”

“I told her I didn’t mix business and fuckin’.”

Apparently he had a lot of rules about how he conducted business.

“So she eventually got back together with Wyatt,” I said, “but I’m sure you kept an eye on her.”

His eyes darkened. “Why would I keep an eye on a gold-diggin’ bitch?”

“Because she went from you back to Wyatt.”

He released a short laugh. “You think I was jealous?” He sounded incredulous.

“Hell, no,” I scoffed. “But you’re smart enough to keep tabs on her. Just in case she accidently stumbled upon something that could be used against you.”

He didn’t respond, but the corners of his mouth ticked up.

“I’m trying to figure out a timeline here—she went back to Wyatt, then nagged him into demanding that his father give him the tavern. But instead of getting it, Wyatt disowned his family.”

Bingham gave me a long look. “What comes next? You’re the one tellin’ this story.”

“A week or so later, Wyatt drove drunk to Earl Cartwright’s garage and stole back the baseball his father sold.”

He continued to watch me.

“Then they went to Balder Mountain State Park, and the sheriff showed up and arrested him.”

“That’s the story.”

The way he said it implied there was a lot more to it, and that he knew a thing or two about how it had gone down. Wyatt had said his father had contacted the sheriff after having him followed, but what if he was wrong? What if it hadn’t been Bart?

I looked Bingham square in the eye. “How’d the sheriff know where to arrest him? I’m sure the arrest report would tell me, but you could save me the trouble of looking.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “An anonymous tip was called in.”

“Any idea where that tip might have come from?”

His grin spread. “I can see you’re dyin’ to pin it on me. I’m sorry to disappoint, but I didn’t do it. I generally like to handle things my own way. No need to bring in a middleman, especially law enforcement.”

“Yet you knew it was an anonymous tip. Surely you gave some thought as to who called it in.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs as he stared out into the trees beyond my car. “I always suspected Heather set him up. It was no secret she wanted the Drummond money. The tavern closed for a few days. Then Bart had Carson Purdy run it for a bit, tellin’ everyone that Wyatt was sick. It wasn’t hard to believe since he stuck to his house. Wyatt was arrested not long afterward, and then Max came back from school, not only runnin’ the place but ownin’ it, just like Wyatt had demanded. How’s that for karma?”

Heather must have been furious. “Why would she have had Wyatt arrested if she wanted the money?”

“Rumor had it Wyatt was done. He’d put up with a lot of shit from his old man, and he’d reached the breaking point. But Heather had invested a lot of time in her trust fund project, and she had no intention of walking away empty-handed.”

“So her plan all along was to blackmail the Drummonds?”

“I don’t know that for a fact, but I’ve always suspected.”

“So why make all that fuss about the Drummonds pressuring her to change her testimony?” I shook my head, realizing the answer myself. “Because she fully expected them to pay her off. And the Drummonds didn’t pay up because they expected Wyatt to use their attorney, and then they’d grease the wheels of justice and get the charges reduced or dropped.”

Bingham winked. “But it turned out the oldest Drummond boy wasn’t the team player his daddy raised him to be.”

“The Drummonds gave her five thousand dollars to leave town,” I said. “But that’s got to be a far cry from what she expected.”

“She was probably just cuttin’ her losses,” Bingham said. “Take the money and move on to the next mark.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I think she had another plan.” I turned to glance at him. “She had a boyfriend on the side. Any idea who it was?”

He snorted. “It sure as hell wasn’t me, so you can stop barkin’ up that tree.”

“I know it wasn’t you,” I said. “You’re too smart to get caught up in someone else’s machinations.”

“It could be argued that you’re gettin’ me caught up in some now.”

“Nah,” I said. “I’m not involving you in anything. I’m only borrowin’ your ear.”

A guarded look crossed his face. “I don’t allow many people to borrow my ear.”

“I’m not using you, Bingham,” I said. “We’re both working toward the same end.”

“Damn straight,” he said in a growl. “No one uses me.”

“I’m not using you,” I said insistently.

“What am I gettin’ out of all this?”

That was a good question. I was about to tell him that the information he could provide me might help me bring down Bart, but I was beginning to wonder if Bart had anything to do with Heather’s death after all. Even through a favor. What if Heather and her boyfriend had set Wyatt up, expecting the Drummonds to pay her big bucks to go away? What if they’d fought about the low payout and he’d taken out his frustrations by murdering her?

“I don’t know,” I said, deciding to go with honesty.

“I ain’t a charity.”

“Consider it a gift to your baby’s godmother.”

His eyes darkened, and it was clear that Lula had forced me on him, not that I’d expected differently.

I knew I was opening a huge can of worms, but I asked anyway, “What do you want?”

A sly grin spread across his face. “A favor that I can call in later.”

Ice flooded my veins. “I never knew you were in the favor business, Bingham.”

“I’m typically not. Maybe I’ve been inspired by our mutual friend.”

Owing Bingham a favor was the worst idea, yet I was tempted. What if he knew the identity of Heather’s boyfriend? What was that name worth?

But I still hadn’t spoken to Dick or May, and it was possible I could get the information I needed without his help. I wouldn’t make myself beholden to Bingham unless I had no other option. “No.”

He chuckled. “No? You don’t want to know what I know?”

“Of course I do, but I’m not going to indebt myself to you to get it.”

He stood. “Then I guess our appointment has ended.” He started for the door but turned back before he reached it. “If you change your mind later, the price goes up, so consider this your second chance.”

“No,” I said. “I’m not going to put myself into the exact same position as all of Bart’s victims.”