“Do you think he found his proof?” I asked.

“Sounds like it if they shot him.” He was quiet for a moment. “If you ain’t tellin’ the sheriff, then you can’t tell no one, you hear? That deputy didn’t act alone, which means two other somebodies in that town took part in murdering my grandson. Three if you count the driver. If they figure out you know something, they’ll show up wantin’ to kill you too.”

A tingle of fear shot up my spine. “The sheriff’s department considers me a person of interest.”

His mouth parted. “Why?”

“I’m from Atlanta, and the sheriff’s department heard someone from Atlanta was doing a drug drop last night.”

His eyes narrowed. “Whatcha doin’ in Drum if you’re from Georgia?”

I explained the breakdown and the fact that Wyatt had towed me into town. I told him about Max and the temporary job at the tavern.

“You’re sure they’re lookin’ into you?” he asked.

“The detective told me not to leave town. Max was the one who told me about the Atlanta person.”

He nodded again, his lips pressed together. “They’re keepin’ a close watch on you.”

“To find out if my story changes? To find out what I know?”

“To find out if you can implicate them.”

If they’d killed a boy they knew, a local boy, just to keep their secrets, what was to stop them from killing me? Based on the story I’d told everyone, I was the kind of person who wouldn’t be missed.

I felt like I was going to be sick. “So the sheriff’s department is corrupt. Not just one deputy?”

“Not all of the deputies, but enough of them that you can’t trust any of ’em.”

“You’re right,” I whispered. “They mean to kill me.”

Mr. Chalmers squeezed my hand again, and I noticed the unshed tears lining his lower eyelids. “No. You keep tellin’ ’em that you saw nothin’ and Seth only lived long enough to give you a message for me that he loved me. Nothin’ else.”

“If I don’t tell anyone else what I know, they’ll get away with murder,” I said. “The man who killed your grandson in cold blood deserves to pay.” The need to make them pay burned through my blood. My mother had been buried years ago, and no one would ever be able to prove her accident had been anything but. But Seth had staked his life on making his mother’s killer’s pay, and according to him, he had found the evidence he needed.

Maybe I could find justice for him.

Maybe it would give me a taste of the peace that eluded me.

He leaned his head back on the bed. “Oh, to be young and idealistic.” He closed his eyes and tears streamed down his cheeks. “This is the way of the world, girl. The evil rule the earth and profit from abusing it.”

My mind shifted to my father. To Jake. To the plans I’d heard them make on the eve of my wedding. “It’s not right.”

“Spoken like a dreamer,” he said, a wry smile cracking his lips. “Sometimes you have to know when to give in. What’s one more poor mountain boy who likely would have lived and died in Drum? That’s exactly what happened to him, only he had fifty years of misery and bondage chopped off his life sentence.”

I might have believed his speech if not for the tears tracking down his cheeks.

I sat in the chair next to him, holding his hand. Hank Chalmers might be willing to accept his grandson’s death as another cruel hand dealt by fate, but I wasn’t.

I would dig up whatever evidence Seth had found and hand it over to the state police myself.

I only had to survive long enough to find it.

Chapter Eleven

“Hank? You doin’ okay?” a woman asked from the doorway. When he didn’t answer, she walked the rest of the way into the room, revealing herself. She was a dark-haired woman in scrubs, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. “Oh, you have company.”

“Patty,” Mr. Chalmers said, “this is my new friend Carly.”

“Friend?” she asked with suspicion. Then she gave me a dark look. “You a reporter here for a story?”

“No,” I said in surprise, dropping Mr. Chalmers’ hand and getting to my feet. “It would be highly unethical to sneak into a bereaved man’s room and try to get a quote about his deceased grandson.”

Her brows rose. “So you know his grandson was murdered? The sheriff’s department swore me to secrecy, claimin’ they haven’t released any names yet. I ain’t never seen you here before, so you mustn’t be too close to Hank. If you’re not a reporter, who the hell are you?”

I stared at her in shock.

“Patty,” Hank barked, “she’s the one who found Seth.”

Her face fell. “What?”

“She came to tell me about his last moments.” His voice caught. “She brought me a blessin’.”

All her fire had guttered out, and she looked close to tears. “Sorry for the misunderstandin’.”

“I’m glad you were looking out for Mr. Chalmers,” I said. “Especially if there are unscrupulous people who would stoop to such lengths.”

She cleared her throat and turned her attention to Mr. Chalmers. “Speaking of lookin’ out for you…” She grimaced. “Now that your grandson won’t be able to take you home tomorrow, I think we should make arrangements for you to be transferred to Sunny Dale.”

“The rehab place?” Mr. Chalmers shouted. “There’s no way in hell I’m goin’ there.”

“Your drain tube is coming out today, which means you’re ready to be discharged, Hank. Medicare says it’s time to go. One way or the other, you’re out of here.” She pushed out a sigh. “I don’t make the daggum rules, but unfortunately, I’ve gotta enforce ’em.”

I remembered Ruth telling me that Mr. Chalmers had come to Greeneville for a leg amputation. My gaze shot to the lower end of his bed, and for the first time I realized the lump for his left leg was longer than his right.

“You know I can check myself out at any time,” he snapped at her.

“That’s true, but you gotta have someone pick you up,” she countered with plenty of sass. “There ain’t a taxi or Uber in town that’ll haul you up that mountain.”

“I’ll pick him up,” I said before I could think it through. I didn’t have a car, but maybe Ruth would let me borrow hers. Or maybe Wyatt would be finished with mine, although I highly doubted it.

“He doesn’t just need a ride,” Patty said in a condescending tone. “He needs someone to take care of him. He needs his dressing changed and help getting in and out of bed and onto the toilet. Are you gonna provide that kind of help for him?”

I glanced back at Mr. Chalmers. “Do you have someone to help you with that?”

He lifted his chin. “I’ve got a home health nurse comin’ at the end of the week. I can make do at home until she gets there.”

My time in Arkansas came flooding back. I’d spent the last month taking care of Rose’s dying sister, Violet. Surely that medical experience could be of use.