“Something like that.”

He gestured to a grouping of sofa and chairs opposite the desk.

I sat down in the chair in case he got any ideas about what might happen on that sofa. He sat on the sofa opposite me and crossed his legs, resting his hand on his knee.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I invited you here.”

I didn’t answer. I wasn’t volunteering anything.

“We all have secrets,” he said.

I still remained silent.

“I have secrets,” he said. “One of those secrets came out last weekend.”

“Max said that Lula’s not his only half-sibling. You were a busy man,” I said. “Building empires in every sense of the word.”

A forced grin spread across his face. “I love that you understand me.”

“I understand you better than you know,” I said.

“Maybe not, Caroline. Maybe I understand you perfectly.”

I gave him a blank look. “Sorry if you were hoping for more of a reaction, but I’d already figured out that you know who I am. The real question is why I’m here.”

He blinked in surprise.

“You could have turned me in, but you haven’t, which means you want something from me. What is it?”

Score one for Marco. He’d coached me to come on strong and put Bart on the defensive.

“How do you know I don’t plan to turn you in?”

“I’m sure you will when it’s advantageous to you, yet for now you’ll wait and try to get something from me. But I’ve heard of your famous favors. Perhaps you consider keeping my secret as my favor. The real question is what you’ll ask of me and when.”

“Whatever I deem appropriate,” he said.

“No,” I said. “You have something in mind, but you’re keeping it to yourself for now.”

He sat back and rested his forearm on the arm of the sofa, taking an easygoing pose. “You seem very certain of yourself, but you’d be foolish to underestimate me. I’ve destroyed more lives than you can count, and I’ll rip yours to shreds if and when I feel like it, so wipe that smirk off your face.”

I would never kowtow to him, but I’d let him figure that out later.

“If you were plannin’ to leave town,” he said. “I suggest you reconsider. If you try to leave, I’ll be forced to release information that will put Hank Chalmers in prison for the rest of his life.”

What did he have on Hank? Given Hank’s past, it could be anything. “And if you use it, I’ll be forced to tell the world you tried to drown an eight-year-old girl in a pathetic attempt to destroy evidence of your affair.”

“You’ve been talkin’ to Louise.”

“We had a lovely chat,” I said. “Very informative.”

“Louise can speculate all she wants,” Bart said. “But she has yet to prove that Lula is my daughter.”

“It’s not difficult to determine such things,” I said. “A simple DNA test will sort it out.”

“And I’ve already had one done,” he said. “Negative.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

He shrugged. “Believe it or not, I still have it and plan to show it to anyone who asks for proof.”

And it would be just as easy to counter his claim—any home DNA kit would do—but that issue wasn’t pressing at the moment.

He stood. “I brought you here to let you know that you have been noticed, and at some point, I will require your willing and able service. The less fuss you make, the better for all, especially poor Hank. I wonder how they deal with one-legged inmates?”

He smiled, but his eyes were dark.

I got to my feet and looked him square in the eye. “This has been such an informative meeting. Thank you.”

“I’m happy we could reach this understanding,” he said.

Oh, we’d reached an understanding, just not the one he’d meant. I’d do everything in my power to protect Hank.

Bart Drummond had finally met his match.