“Greatest country in the world.”

He nodded again. “God bless the U.S. of A.”

I gave him a little wave. “You have a good day, Detective.” With that, I headed to the back before he had a chance to “one more thing” me again.

Chapter Fourteen

After I pulled myself together, I found Max sitting at the desk in his office and told him the detective had left.

He swiveled his chair to face me in the doorway. “How’d it go?”

“Fine, I guess. He seems a little suspicious of me, although I have no idea why.” Which wasn’t precisely true. People in Drum didn’t seem too keen on outsiders, and no one here really knew me. Easier to suspect a stranger than a neighbor.

Max grimaced. “I called Marco while you were giving your statement. He said they’re trying to work up a case against you.”

My throat tightened. “Do they have any evidence?”

In my mind, I saw my gun and my key fob. Those casings that may have been deliberately left behind. They didn’t even need to pin it on me. All they needed to do was attract the wrong kind of attention.

“No. It’s all circumstantial. I’ve given my own statement about walkin’ you to your room after you got off work last night. I made it very clear they’re barkin’ up the wrong tree.”

“I had nothing to do with Seth’s death other than finding him, Max,” I said. “I swear it.”

He gave me a reassuring smile. “Shit, Carly, I know that. Even a blind man could see that you’re incapable of such a thing. Don’t you worry. I have an ace up my sleeve to help.”

“What is it?” I asked.

He leaned forward. “You’ll find out later.” He checked the clock on the wall. “It’s nearly three. Why don’t you go have Tiny fix you something for lunch. Then I’ll open back up in about a half hour.”

“You don’t have to keep the bar closed on my account, Max,” I said. I hated that he was potentially losing money because of me.

“We’re usually dead anyway, and this will give you a chance to take a break.”

Tears stung my eyes. “Thanks, Max.”

“Hey,” he said good-naturedly. “I’m protectin’ my own self-interest here. You’ve already proven yourself indispensable.” He made a shooing motion. “You run along now. Have Tiny make you his grilled cheese and tomato soup. Perfect comfort food.”

Tiny must have known I’d met with the detective, because he welcomed me into the kitchen and fed me soup and a warm sandwich and regaled me with tales about cranky customers. Bitty just gave me a long look and walked out the back door. When I finished, Max had reopened the tavern. He sat at the bar, writing in a ledger, and the place was empty except for Jerry, who had returned and was sitting in a booth close to the TV.

“We’re good here,” Max assured me. “Why don’t you sort out the afternoon sales so you can start fresh when Ruth gets in.”

I sat in a corner booth, combing through the tickets and cash to figure out what I owed to Tiny and Bitty from the afternoon’s tips. Just as I finished up, Ruth strolled in through the back and sat opposite me in the booth.

“I am so sorry I abandoned you like that,” she said with a grimace. “I wanted to check out the brand-new Hobby Lobby, and I got lost.” She put her hand on the table and leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Did you know they have damn near anything you could ever want in that store?”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Like I told you in my text, I found a ride.”

“Yeah,” she said suspiciously, “but you never answered my text asking who you had caught it with.”

“In fairness,” I said, bracing myself, “I never saw your text. We must have lost cell service before it came through.”

“That doesn’t tell me who you caught a ride with, now does it?”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Max said in disgust from behind the bar. “Wyatt drove her home.”

Her eyes flew wide. “Wyatt? You got into a vehicle with him after he stormed in here at three in the morning, demanding to know what you had to do with Seth’s murder?”

“Whoa!” Max said as he walked around the bar and over to our table. “Wyatt showed up at three a.m.? Who let him in?”

“He must have walked in through the back door,” Ruth said. “Because that’s the way he left.”

Max’s face hardened. “Wyatt still has a key?”

“You didn’t change the locks after he left?” Ruth asked, giving him an incredulous look.

“Why the hell would I waste money changing the locks?” he asked. “He was in prison.”

“He’s been back for five years, Maxwell!” Ruth retorted.

“He walked out on the place,” Max said. “He walked away from everything that had anything to do with the Drummonds. Why would I be concerned that he might want to use his keys?”

“He could have robbed you blind!” Ruth said.

“Wyatt Drummond’s not a thief,” Jerry said in a shaky voice, turning to point his finger at us. Ruth and Max hadn’t bothered to make sure the place was completely empty before starting their fight, although I got the sense a lot of people forgot about Jerry being around. He seemed to prefer it that way. “He’s got more integrity in his pinkie finger than your father and grandfather put together, Maxwell Drummond.”

Ruth’s mouth dropped open in shock, and she murmured to me, “I ain’t never heard that man stand up for anything, let alone for a person.”

Max took a few steps toward him. For a moment I thought he might blast into Jerry for disrespecting two Drummonds to compliment a third, but instead he said, “Yeah, you’re right. Wyatt’s no thief.”

I couldn’t help wondering if he meant he was right about all of it, but mostly I wondered why he was defending his brother when there was obviously bad blood between them. And when Wyatt had supposedly gone to jail because he was a thief.

“You still need to change the damn locks, Max,” Ruth insisted.

“I will,” Max said with a sigh. “First thing tomorrow.”

A few customers walked through the door and sat at a table in my section from the previous night.

“We keeping the same sections as before?” I asked Ruth as I started to slide out of the booth.

Her brow furrowed. “I’ve got a lot more questions for you, missy, so don’t think you got off the hook.” But she didn’t sound mad, just a little grumpy and a lot curious.

“Got it. So same sections?”

She shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

Now that it was after five, more people wandered in for dinner. The dining room was packed by six, and Ruth and I were hopping to keep up while Tiny and Bitty cooked like a well-oiled machine in the kitchen.

A few of the dinner customers were braver than the lunch patrons, asking me questions about the prior night. Was it true that I’d found Seth? Had he told me who’d shot him? A couple of them even asked if I’d been the one to pull the trigger.

The dinner crowd cleared out by seven thirty and the drinkin’ crowd came in. Tonight it was just a few couples hanging out together and some older guys at the bar.