“And you believed him?”

“He was just as pissed as I was, but he let George be as long as he wasn’t dealin’ in Drum. And then George started dealin’. So Bingham had him dealt with.”

“You told me that a deputy shot him after he started smashing things in town.”

A cockeyed grin twisted Hank’s mouth. “That’s what the report says, but it seems mighty convenient to me. Mind you, it’s just a hunch.”

But it was probably a good one. “So someone else is tryin’ to sell drugs here now?”

“So it seems,” he said, his voice weary. “And Bingham is determined to stop them. He denies it, but I know he encouraged Seth to go after that drop.”

“The person who was coming in from Atlanta?”

“Yep.”

I opened my mouth to ask him more questions, but he spoke before I could. “Wyatt’s on an emergency call and I suspect he’ll be comin’ back soon. We need to have all of this cleaned up before he gets here. We can’t be tellin’ him what happened here until we know for certain he has our backs.”

Emergency call my ear. Someone had wanted him out of the way. I only hope he didn’t end up down a ravine this time. In the meantime, we had no way of getting in touch with him.

“I hope Wyatt’s all right,” I said.

Hank just shrugged. “Seems mighty convenient he got called out just before that boy showed up.”

“We both know it was probably a setup,” I said.

“Perhaps,” he said, scratching his chin, “but it’s like I said, blood runs deep. I wouldn’t be surprised if Bart still has his claws in him.”

“Sometimes a last name is just a name,” I responded.

“He never cottoned to his father much,” Hank admitted. “Always rebellin’. His daddy gave him that bar to let ’im think he was makin’ his own way, but a few years later, something happened, and Wyatt disowned the lot of ’em. Just a few weeks later, he was arrested for DUI and robbery. Half the town thought it was a setup, the other didn’t care.”

That wasn’t the way I’d heard it. Ruth had told me that he’d been disowned after his arrest.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “That he disowned them before his arrest?”

“Damn sure.”

That put everything about his situation in a whole new light. “His own father sent him to prison?”

“Who’s to say? Although I suspect Bart wouldn’t want the family name tarnished, no matter how he feels about the boy. I suspect he’s the one who got the robbery charges dropped to B & E—and that the judge gave Wyatt such a stiff sentence in retaliation. People say Bart gave Wyatt the money to buy that service station as some sort of amends, but no one knows for certain. All I know is Wyatt went to prison penniless. He used a damn public defender instead of hirin’ an attorney, but then he came back and bought the station with cash.”

“I keep hearing about this robbery,” I said. “What did he supposedly steal?” Now that I knew Wyatt, if only a little, I had a hard time picturing it. Then again, I hadn’t thought Jake capable of any sort of wrongdoing either. I couldn’t trust myself, especially since I was attracted to Wyatt.

“The same service station he now owns,” Hank said. “It sold gas and snacks back in the day. His girlfriend was with him and was the lone witness. But then she recanted and left town.”

“And people think the Drummonds paid her off.” Max had all but confirmed the story, but I didn’t feel comfortable saying so.

“Yep.”

“He seems pretty loyal to you, Hank. Hell, you claimed him as your kin with Bingham. Do you really think he’d turn on you?”

“No, but I’ve learned it’s best to be sure. I’ve had a lifetime of distrustin’ everyone. It’s just like breathin’.”

“But you seem to trust me,” I said, unable to stop myself.

His gaze softened. “You’re the first person I’ve trusted in a very long time.”

I stared at him in shock. I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t let him down.

He was right about all of it, but I knew one thing for certain. It was time for Wyatt to lay his cards on the table, and if he gave me the answers I was looking for, I’d lay down all of mine, because at this point, I needed all the help I could get.

Chapter Twenty-Three

By the time Wyatt came back, I’d raked the path and scrubbed the porch and shovels with bleach. I’d even spread some dirt onto the porch and swept it off to make the cleaning less obvious. I was putting the shovels away when the headlights of his tow truck appeared on the road and turned onto Hank’s property.

Wyatt didn’t waste any time rushing out of his truck. “What happened?”

The panic in his voice sent guilt washing through me. He genuinely cared about our well-being—no one was that good of an actor.

Except I could still hear Jake’s voice in my head, saying how much he wanted us to spend the rest of our lives together. Of course, he’d intended for our togetherness to be short-lived.

“We had a break-in,” Hank said evenly. He was still sitting on the front porch with the shotgun across his lap.

“Did Henderson show up?” he asked, his eyes wide with concern.

“The intruder wore a mask,” Hank said. “I ran ’im off with my shotgun.”

Wyatt turned to me. “Carly?”

“He broke in through Seth’s bedroom window,” I said as I stopped halfway between the porch and Wyatt.

“Jesus,” he said, striding toward me. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“He tackled her to the floor,” Hank said, his tone cold. “Threatened to kill her if she didn’t take him to the stash.”

Fury washed over Wyatt’s face. “Did he hurt you?”

If Wyatt was pretending, he was doing a damn fine job of it. That fury had reached his eyes. “A few bumps and bruises, but I’m okay.”

Wyatt stood stock-still for several seconds. “I’m goin’ to fuckin’ kill Dwight Henderson with my goddamn bare hands.” He stomped to his truck.

While Dwight was far from my favorite person, he hadn’t done us any harm tonight. I couldn’t let Wyatt go after the wrong man.

“Hank!” I called out in a panic. “Tell him what happened!”

Wyatt stopped in his tracks. “Was there an intruder or not?”

When we didn’t answer, his gaze swept over the front of the house, landing on the disturbed ground in front of the front porch.

“Please, dear God, tell me neither one of you was stupid enough to bury a body on the path to the driveway,” he said in a weary tone.

I paused a beat, waiting to see if Hank would answer, and when he didn’t, I inched closer to Wyatt. “No,” I said. “We didn’t bury anyone.”

He swiveled his head to look at me from the side. “But somebody’s dead.”

It wasn’t phrased as a question.

“Where’d you go, boy?” Hank asked.

“I got called on a run,” Wyatt said, running a hand through his hair and looking like he was about to collapse from exhaustion. “Abandoned car on Highway 25, parked in the middle of a curve. Obviously a dangerous situation or I would have turned it down. I hauled it down to Ewing. You heard me take the call. Why the sudden suspicion?”