“Good idea.”

I got settled in Max’s office chair, then took a deep breath and dialed Wyatt’s number.

Wyatt answered and launched into a tirade. “For the umpteenth time, Ruth, Max is fine.”

“It’s Carly.”

The line went silent, and I was starting to wonder if he’d hung up when he said, “Are you callin’ to check on Max?”

Had he hoped I was calling to talk to him? “Yeah. I’m worried about him.”

“He’s feelin’ like shit right about now, but he’ll be much better tomorrow. Sober at least.”

“That’s good.”

“He feels terrible about the things he said to you. Do you want to talk to him?”

“If he’s willing.”

I heard muffled voices in the background. Then Max’s voice came over the line. “Carly, if you never speak to me again, I’ll understand.”

“No,” I said, covering my eyes with my hand in relief. “We’re good. I promise.”

“You’re not fired.”

I released a short laugh. “Well, that’s good, since I’ve been working. Just get better and come back. We miss you like crazy.”

There was so much unsaid, but it wouldn’t feel right to talk our issues over on the phone, especially not on Wyatt’s phone. We said our goodbyes and I hung up, taking a moment to let my emotions settle. I was still sure that Max knew something about Lula, so why hadn’t I pressed him? Was it because I was scared to find out he’d done something bad? Or was I worried he’d reject me again?

I was considering calling him back, but the phone rang again. I picked up and said, “Max’s Tavern.”

A recorded voice asked, “Will you accept a collect call from the Tennessee Prison for Women?”

The blood rushed from my head and it took me a moment to choke out, “Yes.”

Marco had intended to request a call from Lula’s mother, but as far as I knew, he hadn’t gotten around to it yet. So why was she calling?

I heard some clicks and then a woman’s raspy voice said, “I need to speak to Lula.”

“Louise?”

There was a pause. “Ruthie?”

“No,” I said, putting a hand on my chest and taking a breath to slow my racing heart. “This is Carly. I work with Lula.”

“Never heard of you. Put ’er on the line,” she said impatiently.

“I can’t. She’s not here.”

“What do you mean she’s not here? She works every Sunday.”

Had she been scheduled to work today? She’d only been missing for a few days, but it felt like much longer. “Ms. Baker, Lula’s missin’.”

She took a beat before she said in a neutral voice, “She never came back?” Then her tone turned harsher. “You her replacement?”

I’d really hoped Louise would give me some insight on what had happened to her daughter, but I got the impression she’d be tight-lipped. “No, but when she took off last time, Max hired me to help cover her shifts. When she came back, Max kept us both on.”

“There ain’t enough hours for both y’all.”

“We planned to make it work,” I said evenly. “Lula and I worked together one night, but the next day she didn’t show up for her shift. Most people think she took off again, but I don’t believe that. I think someone took her.” I purposely kept Marco’s name out of it. While including him would lend credibility to my concerns, I had the impression that mentioning his name would make her shut up tighter than a clam. This wasn’t a woman who’d want anything to do with the police.

She didn’t say a word, so I took a chance and added, “I think it had something to do with the packages she was delivering when she left.”

Complete silence hung on the other end of the line.

“Ms. Baker?” I asked, terrified I’d scared her off. “Are you still there?”

“How do you know about the packages?” she snapped.

“It doesn’t matter how I know,” I said. “The important part is that I do.”

“Does the sheriff know?”

“No.”

“Keep it that way.” Her voice was hard and calculated. Not the voice of a mother worried about her only child.

“Do you know who took Lula?” I asked. “I’m trying to find her, and anything you can share with me would help.”

“Why in the hell would you look for her? You said you only worked with her for one day.”

“Maybe so, but I felt protective of her.” I suspected she’d only give me information if I threw her off, so I added, “Especially after I learned she was pregnant.”

“She told you?” she blasted through the line. “Who else has that stupid fool told?”

I gasped in shock. “Ms. Baker, I believe your daughter was kidnapped and is in danger. The sheriff’s department doesn’t seem inclined to take this seriously, and I’m worried she’s living on borrowed time.” If she was still alive at all. “I need you to tell me what you know so I can find her.”

“I ain’t tellin’ you shit,” she snarled. “You stay the hell out of my daughter’s life.”

“Louise,” I practically shouted, “I’m worried she won’t have a life. Now, who do you think took her? The father of her baby? Is it the same person who had her deliver the packages?”

She burst out laughing. “You really are stupid.”

“So fill me in.” She wasn’t going to volunteer anything, but she might confirm information if I offered it. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was better than nothing. “Lula was having an affair with Pete Mobley. Maybe he’s the father of the baby. I’m guessing she broke it off when she figured out he wasn’t going to leave his wife for her, but she did it before he noticed her expanding belly.”

She remained silent, which I took as a good sign.

“I wasn’t sure about the packages,” I said. “At first I suspected Bingham, based on the way he stared at her the night she came back. She seemed terrified of him and he seemed anxious to talk to her. When I asked her about it later, she told me to leave Bingham alone. That he makes people disappear. And the next day she disappeared.”

Her voice was tight as she asked, “You think Bingham took my girl?”

“No. I’ve since decided he had nothing to do with it. I think he was watchin’ her because he misses her, and he’s pissed she broke it off.” Then the truth hit me. “I think he’s in love with her and wants her back.”

“He’s a fool. They both are.”

“But you broke them up. Why?”

“Because Mobley was sniffin’ around, and I needed her to focus on him.”

“Why?”

She snorted. “You think I’m just gonna confess everything I know?”

“I would hope you’d want to save your daughter. Just like you saved her the day you shot her father.”

A peal of hysterical laughter rang out in my ear. “You think you’ve got it all figured out, but you’re a fool just like the rest of them. You really believe that shit?”