He stepped out of the doorway. “Safe travels.”

I snatched my purse and coat off the dresser, then grabbed the handle of my suitcase. I rolled it past him as I left the room, fighting the broken wheel while Ruth followed.

We hurried across the parking lot. Max must have already finished his conversation with Carson, because he was waiting just outside the crime scene tape, chatting with one of the deputies. They stopped talking as we approached, and the young deputy lifted the crime scene tape so Ruth and I could duck under it.

“See ya, Marco,” Max said as he took charge of my bag and rolled it across the street toward the front door of the tavern. I nearly told him to put it in Ruth’s car, but there was no way I could leave and risk Detective Daniels arresting Ruth. Which meant I’d be returning to Drum.

I fought the urge to cry.

“I called in an order to Watson’s,” Max said, casting a glance to Ruth. “But you have to go pick it up.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you avoidin’ that place? I know it’s more than dealin’ with gossip.” When he cringed, she let out a groan. “Who did you screw now?”

He made a face. “Greta.”

She gave him a dark look. “Greta? Really, Max? Ain’t you ever heard of the saying ‘Don’t shit where you eat?’”

“How was I supposed to know she’d get a job at Watson’s?” he asked in dismay.

“How about you treat a woman like a lady and quit goin’ through ’em like tissues,” Ruth snapped. “Drum’s only so damn big, you know.”

He rolled his eyes then groaned. “Don’t be a drama queen, Ruth. I don’t go through that many women, and I can’t help it if they want to get serious after I’ve made it clear that I don’t.”

“Greta must not have lasted long if I never heard of it.”

His cheeks flushed. “Greta was a mistake born of moonshine and a sexy red dress.”

She shook her head in disgust. “Well, we have more serious issues to deal with. Carly’s a suspect.”

“No,” he said with a frown. “Marco told me a bit about what’s going on. She’s a person of interest. There’s a difference.”

“Doesn’t feel like much of a difference to me,” I said.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Ruth protested. “Why on earth would she kill Seth? She didn’t even know him.”

“Marco says they’re lookin’ for the easy pickin’s,” Max said. “It’d be a whole lot better for everyone involved if an outsider killed him, and they caught wind that someone from Atlanta was makin’ a drug drop here in Drum last night. So what with Carly bein’ from Atlanta and all…”

A drug drop from Atlanta? Was that why several of those guys had given me funny looks last night? My mind jumped to the guy who’d showed interest in my connection to Atlanta—and then hotly denied it. Was that what those three guys had been looking for? Drugs?

“Wait,” I said, holding up my hand. “When you say for everyone involved, are you talkin’ about your father?” He likely hadn’t sent Carson just to get the scuttle on gossip.

Max’s cheeks tinged. “Don’t you worry about that. I told Carson in no uncertain terms that you had nothin’ to do with it. And my father has a lot of sway with the sheriff’s department. He gives them a large donation every year.”

“Why, just last year he bought the department six new SUVs,” Ruth added.

I wasn’t sure that made me feel any better. His pull could just as easily be used against me as for me.

He shot me an apologetic look. “Between my father’s influence and the lack of evidence, they’ll drop their interest in you soon enough and figure out they’re barkin’ up the wrong tree. Marco told me they found a couple of bullet casings close to the street, so hopefully it will help them find the real murderer.”

While that sounded great, the murderer hadn’t shot Seth close to the street. He’d been shot about ten feet from my door. So where had the bullet casings come from? Were bullet casings randomly lying around the streets of Drum?

What if the murderers had come back and dropped spent shells from my gun, setting me up for murder?

My skin felt clammy.

“Max is right,” Ruth said cheerfully. “They’ll figure out they’re barkin’ up the wrong tree soon enough. In the meantime, the trip to Greeneville might take your mind off things.” Then, as though remembering the purpose of my trip to Greeneville, her smile fell.

“Greeneville?” Max asked in surprise. “What the hell are you goin’ down there for? Carly’s workin’ the lunch shift.”

“I’ve gotta run some errands and I’m takin’ her with me so people’ll leave her alone,” Ruth said.

The look on Max’s face suggested he didn’t buy her excuse, but he didn’t call her out on it. I had to wonder why she hadn’t told him the real reason I wanted to go to Greeneville, but maybe she knew he’d ask questions that I didn’t want to answer.

“I’m going to grab our breakfast,” Ruth said, then gave me a once-over. “Why don’t you stay here with Max while I pick it up?”

“You worried about the gossipers?” I asked in a sly tone.

“No sense jumpin’ into shark-infested waters,” she said. “They’ll start circlin’ soon enough.”

I suspected she was right.

Max gestured to the front door of the tavern. “You want to wait inside?”

I shook my head as I faced the crime scene. If someone was trying to pin this on me, it might be a good idea to ask some questions of my own.

“Those two cars,” I said, gesturing to the station wagon and a rusted compact car. “Who do they belong to?”

Max’s brow shot up. “Uh…the guys who live in units one and two.”

“Jerry and…?” I’d forgotten the other guy’s name.

Max’s eyes narrowed. “Big Joe. How’d you know he lived there?”

“Ruth,” I said. “Remember when you were discussing where to put me?”

He closed his eyes and pushed out a long breath before giving me an apologetic grimace. “Yeah.”

“Do you think they might have seen something?”

Max hesitated. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to them.”

“Did your friend Marco say anything?”

When he gave me a suspicious look, I said, “While I’d love nothing more than for the police to come to the obvious conclusion that I’m innocent, forgive me if I don’t feel like sitting back and waiting for everything to fall into place.”

“You do realize you can get in trouble if they think you’re interfering in their investigation?” he asked.

I gave him a sassy grin. “There’s nothin’ wrong with a neighbor checking on and commiserating with her neighbors, is there?”

He gave me a look that suggested he was seeing me in a new light. “I suppose not,” he said, smiling back at me. “As your mutual landlord, let me introduce you.”

We walked across the street and Max knocked on unit one’s door. One of the deputies cast a glance at us. He looked like he was about to head over, but Max lifted his hand and waved. “Checkin’ on my tenants.”