Did that mean he was suspicious too?

I inhaled deeply. What was I thinking? This was Max. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.

But that wasn’t precisely true. I knew he’d hurt people before, but he only took his anger out on people who deserved it.

There was no way he had anything to do with Lula’s or Greta’s disappearances.

So why hadn’t Marco just come out and told him the truth?

Max shot a look of disgust at his best friend. “And I’m not sayin’ another word until you get that shit out of my face. Otherwise, I won’t be responsible for barfin’ on your shoes.”

Marco shoveled a couple of final bites into his mouth before holding the container out toward me.

I was about to snap and tell him I wasn’t here to wait on him, which was when I remembered the bullet wound in his leg. Grumbling under my breath, I snatched his trash from him and dumped it. He nodded at the other bags, so I handed him the one with the hash browns and bacon.

He reached inside and pulled a piece of bacon out of the smaller container. “Grease is great for hangovers, Maxwell. Now tell me what happened when you walked Greta to her car.”

Max snatched the piece of bacon from Marco and took a bite. “I asked her why she was scared, but she brushed it off, so then I told her why I hadn’t called her after our previous rendezvous. I asked if she’d be willing to go out with me again. She didn’t say yes, but she didn’t say no. She just said she’d come by the tavern next week.” He took another sip of his coffee. “There. Are you happy now? That hardly seems like a good reason for disturbin’ my sleep.”

“Did she say when she’d come by to see you?” Marco asked.

“Were you listening to me?” He snorted. “She said she’d come by next week.”

“Did she say where she was goin’?” Marco asked.

“No, but I presumed she was goin’ home.” His eyes narrowed. “Why are you askin’ me all these questions?”

Marco was silent for a moment. “Greta didn’t show up for her shift at Watson’s today.”

Max took a bite of the bacon, then said, “She called in sick? Are you warnin’ me that she has some nasty virus she might have passed to me?”

“No,” Marco said. “I’m telling you that she didn’t show up to work. No callin’ in sick. She was just a no-show. Her sister told Angie she never came home last night.”

The color leached from Max’s face, and he tossed what was left of his bacon on the coffee table.

“You’re sure she didn’t mention anything about what had scared her at the bar?” Marco asked.

“Why did you stick your nose in this, Carly?” Max shouted. “You had to stir up a hornet’s nest by lookin’ for Lula. You couldn’t leave it alone.”

“Don’t just blame her,” Marco said. “We’re both lookin’ into Lula’s disappearance.”

“What the fuck, Marco?” Max asked in disgust. “Why?”

“Because I think Carly’s right. I think someone took her this time.”

“Then you’re both fools.” He stood and set his cup on an end table. “You need to leave it all alone!”

“I can’t do that, Max,” Marco said, regret heavy in his voice.

That set Max off.

“Get out,” he said, pointing to the door. “Get out!” He began to pace the middle of the floor, unsteady on his feet.

Marco grabbed his crutches and stood up. “What the hell is goin’ on here, Max?”

“You,” Max said, turning his fury on his friend. “You should know better.”

Marco’s face went expressionless. “What does that mean?”

Max shook his head, then swung his attention to me. “And you? You’re fired.”

“Max,” Marco protested. “Think this through.”

“You stay the fuck out of it!” Max shouted. “I’ll hire and fire whoever the hell I want!”

I’d never seen him so angry, but I also saw past the anger. I saw a man wracked with guilt. “Max, please.” My voice broke. “I don’t care about the job. I care about you.”

His face lost even more color, and he looked like he was close to throwing up again.

“You’ve been nothin’ but trouble since you showed up on my doorstep, Carly, and I’m done.” He waved his hand toward me and nearly fell over, and I realized he was still drunk. But it didn’t matter. His words had hurt me to the core.

“Max,” Marco said slowly, “Do you know what happened to Lula?”

“I am not havin’ this discussion at nine thirty in the morning while I’m fightin’ a hangover from hell.”

Marco’s entire demeanor changed, and if I had been Max, I would have thought twice about sassing him. “Why are you so shit-faced drunk, Max?”

“That’s none of your goddamned business,” Max snapped.

“You only get drunk like this when something’s eating at you,” Marco said, and I could see he was struggling between being Max’s friend and Deputy Roland.

“Get out,” Max said in a cold, dead voice

“Max,” Marco said, lowering his voice and hobbling closer. “You’re like a brother to me, man. You can tell me what’s goin’ on.”

Max’s gaze dropped to the floor for a couple of seconds, and when it rose back up to Marco, he looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. “You haven’t wanted to know what’s been goin’ on in my life since I came back home. Why’re you gonna start now?”

Marco looked stricken. “Max.”

Turning to me, Max looked me in the eye. “You don’t belong here. Go home, Carly Moore, if that’s even your name. Leave Drum, and never look back.”

His words didn’t hold the heat or anger I would have expected. He sounded like I’d utterly exhausted him.

He couldn’t have hurt me worse if he’d plunged a knife to my chest.

Marco’s eyes widened, and he glanced back and forth between us in confusion.

Defeat washed over Max so hard, he looked like he was about to crumple to the floor. He shook his head and stumbled backward two steps. “I’m goin’ to bed.”

Then he walked down the hall, leaving Marco and me wondering what in the hell had just happened.

Chapter Sixteen

“Come on, Carly. Let’s go,” Marco said, but I could see his indecision.

Tears stung my eyes as I stared at the spot where Max had gone around the corner. “I don’t want to leave him like this.”

“Max needs sleep right now. He can be a mean drunk just like his…” His words trailed off and he pivoted on his crutches. “He needs to sleep it off.”

“Just like who, Marco?”

“Let it go, Carly.”

“Let what go? Max? Lula and Greta? What just happened here? Should I leave town with my tail tucked between my legs?”

“No,” he countered. “And that’s not what Max wants either, trust me. He’s totally shit-faced. When he sobers up, he’ll apologize to the both of us. If he even remembers any of this. You’ll still have your job, and it will be like this never happened. Now, let’s go.”