I nearly laughed. “No. He didn’t.”
But Cecil Abrams had, and no matter how much we’d cleaned, it was inevitable we’d left some sort of DNA evidence behind.
Which Bingham was fully aware of.
He’d intentionally put me in a tight bind so he would have control of me.
“Who brought you into town?” Ruth asked with a frown.
I ran a hand over my hair. I needed to think. “Wyatt. He had to run down to Ewing, so he dropped me off at the library. That’s where I’ve been for the last hour or so.”
“What were you doin’ at the library?” Max asked as though it was the silliest thing he’d ever heard. “The waiting list for the computers is days long.”
“I was looking at diabetic cookbooks.”
“Why did you think something happened to Wyatt?” Ruth asked, hanging on to the Wyatt issue like a dog with a bone.
“Uh…” I couldn’t tell them Bingham had already run him off the road once. “Nothin’ feels safe right now, and the only other people I have a vested interest in are standing next to me.” I flashed a smile at Tiny through the pass-through above the food counter so he knew I was including him.
He smiled back. “Don’t worry, Little Bit. You’ll be okay.”
Was he referring to my situation with the sheriff or the overall danger? I hoped to God he was right. I could use a break.
“You’re shakin’ like a leaf,” Max said, worry in his voice. “Do you want to go rest in my apartment upstairs? You can watch TV or take a nap.”
“Actually,” I said. “I was going to go to Wyatt’s garage to use his computer.” Then, so he didn’t get suspicious, I added, “To look up more recipes. The library only had a few cookbooks and I suspect I’ll find some on Pinterest.”
“Just use the computer in my office,” Max said. “I’m not plannin’ on goin’ in there, and that way we know you’re safe. I don’t like the idea of you walkin’ down there by yourself.”
“Thanks,” I said gratefully, then gave him a hug. Truth be told, I didn’t like the thought either, and it seemed foolish to call Junior to have him escort me.
Max grinned. “The password to get into the computer is taped to the wall.”
“That doesn’t seem very safe,” I said.
Ruth snorted. “That’s what I’ve been tellin’ him.”
Max headed back to the dining room, but Ruth stayed and gave me a scrutinizing once-over. “You’ve got a thing for Wyatt Drummond.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked, but my cheeks flushed.
She pushed out a huge sigh. “Girl. That man doesn’t get attached to anyone or anything. You need to steer clear or you’re destined for heartache.”
That wasn’t true. Wyatt had gotten close to Seth, something she clearly knew given she was the one who’d told me. I was about to confront her with it, but she sighed, muttering that women were fools when it came to love, and headed back to the dining room too.
“Don’t you listen to her,” Tiny said, leaning his elbow on the window ledge. “Wyatt Drummond’s a good man.”
Relief flooded through me. “Then why does she seem to hate him?”
I couldn’t help wondering if she knew something I didn’t. She definitely had more history with him.
“That’s her story to tell, not mine, but I will say that her judgment of him is clouded because of it.”
I nodded.
“Have you eaten yet?”
“I had a turkey sandwich earlier.”
“Pfft! You go get settled in Max’s office. I’ll send Bitty in with the lunch special. Homemade mac and cheese. My special recipe.”
Tears stung my eyes. “Thanks, Tiny.”
He gave me a sharp nod. “We take care of our own.”
There it was again. That feeling of being included. Of being protected and cared for. Of being part of something larger than myself.
My heart gave me a little nudge.
What if I didn’t leave? What if I stayed like I had in Arkansas?
But that was plain insanity. I was a person of interest in two murders, and a powerful, criminal madman was threatening me. Yet I was smart enough to know that I’d lucked into this position of belonging. All those years I’d spent on the East Coast had been long and lonely, and if I left Drum, I suspected I’d only find more of the same.
I shook my head. This was premature. I needed to get myself out of danger before I considered staying.
But if I intended to stay, I’d have to change my tactics in how I handled Bingham.
I’d figure that out later.
Heading into the small office, I pulled out the chair and promptly banged it into the wall as I made room to squeeze my legs into the desk’s kneehole. The room couldn’t be more than six or seven feet wide and just about as deep. I strongly suspected it was a repurposed closet.
The computer login info was where Max had said it would be, and Ruth was right. He needed to be more careful with it, especially since he had a spreadsheet open for the tavern’s expenses and income. I minimized the screen, then opened a browser. After I logged into my VPN, which showed my location as Minnesota, I went to the eyecam website and found the login section. If the numbers on Seth’s hand were the password, I’d still need a username. Whoever else had the numbers may have tried to log in too. Only they likely didn’t know what service he’d used.
Bitty appeared in the doorway with a bowl and some silverware.
“I’m not a waitress,” she said in a tone that let me know she considered my position beneath hers.
“I appreciate you bringing my food, Bitty,” I said, meaning it. “I would have been happy to come get it.”
I took her glare to mean I hadn’t appeased her. Sighing, I picked up the bowl and took a bite of the creamy, cheesy noodles. Tiny was right. I really needed comfort food right now.
Eyeing the phone on Max’s desk, I considered calling Hank and asking him if he could guess Seth’s username, but I doubted he would know. I should have told Wyatt about the numbers when I’d had the chance. He might have known something.
That thought reminded me that Junior was likely waiting for my call at the garage. I picked up the receiver and dialed his number.
“Hi, Junior,” I said after he answered. “This is Carly.” I explained that I was in Max’s office and wouldn’t need his escort.
“Wyatt’s about to have a minor stroke, lookin’ for you,” he said. “I’m sure you’ve heard the news about Dwight Henderson by now. A sheriff’s deputy came by asking about you and Dwight.”
“I did hear,” I said. “They came to the garage?”
“Wyatt’s scared they’re gonna try to pin it on you.”
I suspected he had reason to be scared. “Is he back yet?”
“No, he’s still in Ewing, but I think he’s on his way back. I’ll tell him where he can find you. Stay put.”
“Trust me, I’m not going anywhere.”
Since I had no idea how to get into Seth’s account, I decided to do a search for Wyatt’s father. Everyone kept insisting that Bart would never dirty himself with drugs, but I suspected the same would be said of my father.