Max looked embarrassed. “By middle school, my father decided I needed a new friend group, so Marco and I would hang out at the ball fields or his house, which was a few blocks away. Other kids hung out there, so it was a good cover. I’m sure my mother knew what we were doin’, and my father was pleased as punch that I was takin’ up an all-American sport and was hopefully becoming more like my brother. So I joined the team and my father came to one game. I sat on the bench for most of it and struck out once. On the drive home, he told me to let him know when I was actually worth watchin’.”

“Max.” My heart broke for him.

He shrugged. “Life with dear old Dad.”

I found myself thinking again of what Emily had said, about his family obligations. Why had he felt any if his father had treated him so poorly? Had he gone home just for Emily?

“In any case,” he said, sounding weary, “he stopped paying attention to me after that, and I’d just hang out at Marco’s house. Mom knew, of course—she loved Marco—but it was our secret from Dad. Long story short, that’s why Marco wasn’t over much.”

But I had to wonder if it was really a secret. Hadn’t Marco himself told me they’d never once pulled the wool over Bart’s eyes? Were there many secrets in Drum he didn’t know?

I had a million more questions for them both, but none pertained to Heather. Molly and Ginger would be here soon, which meant I needed to stay on topic. “Did you come home from college while Wyatt and Heather were back together?”

Max was silent for a moment. “I came home for Christmas and summer. Wyatt and Heather weren’t around much, and I spent a lot of time working on the land with Carson, but she was around some. Mom and Dad couldn’t stand her, and it was obvious to everyone except my brother that she wasn’t with Wyatt for love.”

“How could you tell?” I asked.

Max was silent for a moment. “She wasn’t very affectionate. You know how you can tell when a couple is really into each other? I never got that vibe from either of them. Wyatt seemed to be in it because…maybe he didn’t see a better option? She was a habit? She was with us when we opened presents on the last Christmas Day she was in town, and when she realized there was no ring-sized box in her present pile, she looked furious. She claimed she had a migraine and made Wyatt drive her home before Christmas lunch. As you can imagine, Dad was furious. Mom disapproved, but in her typical private way. Of course, Heather convinced Wyatt to propose shortly after. And then it all snowballed from there.”

“You knew they were engaged?” I asked.

“Mom told me. As far as I know, not many people knew, and the information didn’t spread like wildfire.”

Part of me was dying to ask Max how his mother had convinced him to come home, but I suspected that was a surefire way to shut down our conversation. “When you came back to run the tavern, did Heather ever show up?”

“Not at all in the beginning, but then she came in a few times with a group of friends. One time she was drunk off her ass, and she cornered me in the back and tried to come on to me, telling me that she’d always thought I was hot back when she and Wyatt were together in high school. Of course, she had given me little attention back then, and I reminded her that if she’d really had those thoughts, it might have been considered pedophilia. As you can imagine, she didn’t appreciate that much.”

Marco sat up straighter. “You never told me that.”

Max’s lips pursed and he shook his head. “You were still at college, and it was disgusting. I turned her down, of course. I figured it was best to pretend it had never happened. I didn’t feel like joking around about it.”

“I would have taken it seriously,” Marco said, then shrugged. “But I might have laughed a little later.”

Max nodded.

“Did she ever mention it again?” I asked. “From what I’ve learned about her, I suspect she wouldn’t take rejection well.”

“The next time I saw her she pretended like it had never happened,” Max said with a faraway look. “Now that I think about it, that was a week or so before she left town.” He grimaced. “Or was murdered, as the case may be.”

“Who did she come to the tavern with that last time?” I asked.

His mouth twisted to one side. “Dick Stinnett and Molly’s sister, May. A guy named Kyle and a few more I can’t remember.”

“Were Heather and Dick seeing each other?” I asked. “I keep hearing his name in connection with hers.”

He snorted. “No, Dick had it bad for May, only she didn’t seem to notice him until after Heather left. There was a guy who’d occasionally come in with them, and Heather would be hangin’ on his every word, but I don’t know who he was.”

“Could he have been from Ewing?” Marco asked.

“Yeah,” Max said. “Likely not from Drum.”

Marco shot me a glance, confirming he also thought it could be our guy.

The back door banged shut, and Molly called out cheerfully, “Hey, everybody! Good morning!”

“Thanks, Max,” I said as I stopped the recorder and closed my notebook. “This was actually helpful.”

He nodded. “Glad to help. I hope you find the bastard who killed her.”

“Yeah,” I said as I glanced over at Molly in the doorway. “Me too.”

Marco leaned closer and whispered, “Do you want to talk to her alone or with me?”

I gave it a moment’s thought. “I think alone might work better. I’ll introduce it with small talk.”

He nodded. “In that case, I figure I’ll work behind the bar with Max.”

Which reminded me I wasn’t done talking to my boss. “Max, I’m going to need to take off for a few hours this afternoon. I’d like to leave around one thirty, and I’ll try to be back at five for the dinner shift.”

He simply nodded, not that I’d expected anything different. He knew what I was doing with my time.

“One more thing,” I said, holding his gaze. “I might get an important phone call this afternoon, and if it comes in, I’m going to need to drop everything and take it. No one can know anything about it.”

“Okay.” I knew he wanted to ask questions, but I wanted him to maintain plausible deniability. The less he knew, the better.

I got up and headed toward Molly.

“Molly, I hear you did really well yesterday.”

She beamed. “Thanks. Even Ruth didn’t seem to mind me so much.” But she said her name like it had a bad taste.

“Did Max tell you that we have a new waitress starting today? She’ll only be working the lunch shift with us.”

“No, but that’s great. We could sure use the help.”

We only had ten minutes left before the tavern opened, so we got busy refilling salt and pepper shakers.

“Say,” I said, trying to appear nonchalant. “Where does your sister May work?”

She gave me a cautious look. “She doesn’t. She stays at home with her two kids.”

“How long has she been married?”

“About five years.”

I was hoping she’d volunteer more information, but it was obvious I was going to need to be more direct.