“Hank?” I said into the receiver. “Wyatt’s here. I’ll be home soon.”

“I thought you were workin’ tonight.”

“Not tonight. I’ll explain later.” I ended the call and replaced the receiver on the phone’s base as Wyatt took a seat at the kitchen table across from Marco.

Wyatt looked Marco dead in the eye. “What’s goin’ on with Max?”

So he wasn’t mad at me. He was upset about his brother.

Fair enough. So was I.

“Good question,” Marco said as he scooped up some mashed potatoes with his fork and took a bite. He was trying to play nonchalant, but it was plain as day that he was as upset as Wyatt.

“I know you and Carly went to see him this morning. Why’s he so upset that you’re lookin’ for Lula?”

“I don’t know,” Marco said, setting down his fork. “But you and I both know he only gets like this when something’s eatin’ at him.”

Wyatt was silent for a moment, then said in a voice so low I could barely hear him, “Do you think Max had something to do with Lula’s disappearance?”

“No,” Marco said confidently. “He would never hurt her.”

I didn’t believe it either, but I had to wonder why he was so upset. Everyone else believed she’d just taken off again. While he’d questioned why I thought differently, he hadn’t tried to dissuade me. He’d told me to keep it from Ruth. He hadn’t gotten truly upset until I said something about Neil Carpenter.

“But you think he’s involved anyway,” Wyatt said in a low growl.

Marco gave me a questioning look, then turned back to Wyatt and said, “We’ve come across some information about Lula that we’re not at liberty to divulge.”

The message was loud and clear. Do not tell Wyatt Lula was pregnant.

I expected Wyatt to get angry, but instead he tapped the tip of his finger against the tabletop and toggled his attention between the both of us.

“I wasn’t under the impression this was an official investigation,” he said in a lazy voice, yet I saw the tension in his shoulders.

“It’s not,” Marco conceded.

Wyatt released a short laugh. “You sure act like you’re treating this as an official investigation. You’re just not checkin’ with the sheriff’s department.” He glanced away before turning back to Marco, his jaw tight. “Is my brother a person of interest in Lula’s and Greta’s disappearances?”

I was taken aback that he knew about Greta, but then of course he did. He’d known where to find me because of Ginger. But his language—person of interest and official investigation—was even more jarring. This had started as Marco and I trying to find Lula, and he was right. It had turned into something more.

Marco started to say something, then swallowed it. “We’re not at liberty to say.”

Wyatt’s entire body vibrated with anger. “You’re supposed to be his best friend.”

Marco held his gaze. “Not all of us cover up crimes because of our personal relationships.”

Wyatt jumped to his feet, his chest heaving. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Roland.”

“Maybe I know exactly what I’m talkin’ about.”

For several long seconds, I thought Wyatt was going to jump him, but then he took a step back, his hands clenched at his sides. “Carly. It’s time to go.”

My mouth dropped open in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“I said it’s time to go,” he said through gritted teeth.

My back stiffened. “That caveman attitude might work on the women in Drum, but it’s not gonna fly with me.”

“So you’re gonna stay here with Marco?” he asked. “Because Ginger made it sound like he was at death’s door, yet he seems just fine, eating his meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”

I stared at him, at a loss for words.

“Drummond,” Marco said in a calm voice, still seated in his chair. “Carly and I need to discuss our case. You may wait outside, and if she changes her mind about goin’ with you, so be it. Otherwise, I’ll take her to Hank’s, after I gain even more strength from my meatloaf and mashed potato fortification.” He flashed a grin.

Propping my hands on my hips, I shot Wyatt a deadly glare. “I won’t be changing my mind.”

“Nevertheless,” Marco said in a reasonable tone, “he can wait outside while we speak, and he’s free to stay on my property until we’re done.”

Wyatt looked furious, but he spun around and headed out the front door, slamming it behind him.

“I’m not leavin’ with him, Marco,” I spat in fury. “Telling him he can stay is a waste of breath.”

“He thinks we’re doin’ something dangerous and he’s worried about you. I have to wonder if he’s right.” He shot me a cockeyed grin. “I’m tired of craning my neck to look up at you. Sit down so we’re eye level.”

I flopped on the chair, still furious. I suspected Marco might be right, but that still didn’t give Wyatt the right to treat me like a child.

“Let’s talk about the case for a minute,” he said. “Wyatt accused us of considering Max a person of interest. Do you consider him a person of interest?”

“It would explain some of his behavior,” I said, running my hand through my short hair. “But I can’t believe he would hurt her,” I added. “Either of them.”

“You know you’re not supposed to try to make the narrative fit the clues, right?” he asked gently. He paused and then said in a softer tone, “If this were an official investigation, I’d never be allowed to take part. They’d say I’m too close to a person of interest, and they’d be right. We’re both too close to the situation. I’ve known Max for nearly twenty-five years, and I can’t believe he’d do anything like this either.”

Tears burned my eyes. “So what do we do? Do we stop looking?”

“No, but we need to be extra careful about how we handle Max. Be aware of our bias.”

I saw the agony in his eyes. This was killing him. “You’re a good man, Marco Roland, and a damned good detective. They’re crazy for not taking you more seriously.”

Emotion washed over his face, and he took a second before he said, “You’re not so bad yourself. We make a good team.” He shot a glance toward the front door. “He’s not wrong that this is gettin’ dangerous for you. Shane Jones was watchin’ us at the garage, and it wouldn’t have been hard for him to find us at the café. He could have followed you to Ewing. Maybe he even saw you at the nursing home. If he thinks you’re gettin’ close, you might be the next woman to disappear.”

A lump of fear filled my gut. “I know.”

“A sheriff deputy on medical leave disappearin’ is gonna cause a stir, especially since I was shot in the Carson Purdy case and there are ties to Bart. But a waitress who’s been in town for a month? If she disappears, they won’t pay much attention. They’ll figure you left town just like you dropped in, which means you’re not safe.”