“No. We’re keepin’ it quiet for now.”

“Don’t worry about me. I won’t tell anyone.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You sure you’re ready to come back to work tonight?”

“I’m goin’ stir-crazy, so yeah.”

After we said our goodbyes, I drove to Wyatt’s garage. I was worried about this meeting, but it needed to be done, and I wanted to see him before I met with his father.

I pulled into the parking lot and walked toward the building. The garage doors were open and both bays had cars. Wyatt was standing next to one of them, but he turned as I approached him. He started to walk toward me, a guarded look on his face.

“Carly, I hear you’ve been feelin’ under the weather.”

“You heard correctly,” I said, already feeling winded and I hadn’t even met with Bart yet. Maybe this had been a mistake, but it was too late to turn back now.

“What happened?” he asked, but there was an accusatory edge to his voice.

“What exactly are you asking, Wyatt?”

“Why did you stay with Marco?”

“Are you serious?” I asked in disbelief. “What happened to fighting for me? Where were you last weekend?”

He looked away. “We had a family emergency.”

“Funny how you’ve known about all of my emergencies, yet I don’t know anything about yours.”

“That’s not fair, Carly,” he said in exasperation.

“You know,” I said, utterly exhausted, “you’re right. We’ve known each other for a month, so yeah, it’s unreasonable for me to expect you to share your secrets with me, but the fact remains that you know far more about me than I know about you, and you’ve made it clear you don’t plan on leveling the playing field anytime soon.”

“Carly…”

“This argument is getting old, and I’m exhausted by it too. So I’m here to tell you that I have no expectations. Not anymore. You said you wanted to work with me to make things right with our fathers, but I accept that you changed your mind.”

“Why do I think this isn’t as good as it sounds?”

“Because bottom line is you don’t trust me, and I can’t be with someone who doesn’t.”

“Carly.”

“I deserve a man who trusts me.”

“You deserve a lot of things, Carly,” he said with a tight voice.

“Yeah,” I said, “I do.” My voice broke. “I thought you were different.”

“Is this about Lula? We had to wrap our heads around finding out she was our sister before we could tell anyone.”

“I’m not supposed to be just anyone, but to top off the insult, you knew I was looking for her.”

“You mean you and Marco were lookin’ for her.”

“We were both looking for her. Max put Greta’s life in danger by keeping this secret. She was kidnapped and almost killed because of what Charlie Jones thought she knew about Lula. But you put my life in danger, Wyatt. You left me vulnerable all because you couldn’t trust me.”

“How did you get hooked up with Bingham on Sunday night?”

I released a bitter laugh. “No. You don’t get to ask me that.”

“What were you really doin’ at Marco’s house?”

“I had the flu.”

“You still look like crap,” he said. “I don’t believe that for a minute. Ruth said you disappeared from work on Sunday night. But hours later you called me up, askin’ to speak to Lula. First of all, how’d you know she was with us? And second, what kind of fool do you have to be to join forces with Todd Bingham?”

“For your information, I figured the Lula part out all on my own, thank you very much, and as for hooking up with Bingham—how dare you! I’d be dead several times over if not for that man. I was poisoned and almost shot, so fuck you, Wyatt Drummond.” I pointed my finger at him, my voice breaking with tears. “Fuck. You.”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about? Nearly shot?” His eyes widened as though he was finally realizing how sick I’d been. “Poisoned?”

I shook my head and took a step backward. “No. You didn’t trust me enough to tell me to call off my hunt for Lula. Which means I no longer trust you with the details of my life.” I drew a deep breath. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment with a man who thinks highly of himself and likely won’t appreciate it if I’m late.” I turned and started walking to Hank’s car.

“You on Bingham’s payroll now?” he called after me.

I spun around, so hurt I could hardly take a breath.

“Thank you for saving me from any regret. But that reminds me—I sold Bingham my car, so let his associates take it when they show up. I know I still owe you money for the work you did, but you can just send me a bill.”

He closed the distance between us. “What the hell happened to us?” he asked.

“I grew a backbone. That’s what happened.” I reached for the car door and got in. He raised his hand as if to call me back, but I ignored him as I drove away.

The smart thing would be to leave this town behind, but I knew my next stop would likely prevent that from happening.

Chapter Thirty-Six

I’d never been to the Drummond property before, but Marco had given me detailed directions. My stop to see Wyatt had made me a few minutes late.

The two-story house had rough stone siding and looked more like an estate than someone’s home. As I parked in the circular drive, I tried to imagine Wyatt and Max growing up here. Neither of them seemed the type to live in such a place.

I approached the front stoop, but a woman greeted me at the front door before I could knock. She looked like she was in her late fifties, and she wrinkled her nose at the sight of me. Then again, I suspected she was the kind of person who always looked like she’d caught wind of a bad smell.

“Mr. Drummond would like you to use the side entrance,” she said, pointing toward the end of the house.

Score one for Bart Drummond. He was sending me to the servants’ entrance to drive home that he considered me trash. Fine. As I headed to the door, I found myself wondering if Louise Baker had approached this same door years ago.

I rapped on the wood and waited nearly a half minute before a younger man in jeans and a T-shirt opened the door. He didn’t look any friendlier than his coworker. “Mr. Drummond’ll see you in his office.”

He led me down a short hall, then stopped at an open door. I entered a large room with walls covered in animal heads. Bart sat behind an oversized desk with wall-to-wall bookcases behind him. To his left was a large window overlooking his land…and also a view of my car.

He’d watched me walk up. What a creeper.

“Hello, Carly. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.” He stood and walked around the edge of his desk. “I had hoped to meet with you last week, but I heard you were under the weather.”

“I’m feeling much better,” I said with a forced smile. “Thank you for asking.”

He grinned at my cheekiness. “I heard you had the flu.” The way he said it made it clear he knew it was a lie.