Page 118 of Deadly Revenge

“I suppose I can do that, but I still don’t have anything to say.”

“We just want to touch base.”

“I’ll meet you at the road.”

Jenna hung up. Stopping to talk with the old man was probably a waste of time.

“Darby seems like a good guy,” Max said. “And I believe he knows something about the connection between Carter and the deaths of the Slaters and Paul Nelson.”

True to his word, Eric Darby was waiting for them on the right side of the lane to his house with Bear at his side. Jenna lowered her window. “You want to talk here or the house?”

“Here’s fine.”

They climbed out of the SUV and Bear trotted to them, sniffing their shoes.

“Hey, Bear,” Jenna said softly. She patted the big dog on the head, and he rubbed against her leg.

“Traitor,” Eric Darby muttered. “Did you ask your dad about what happened when they bought up the land for the dam?”

She didn’t trust herself to speak.

“Her dad is missing.”

Jenna shot Max a grateful smile.

The old man stiffened. “What do you mean, he’s missing?”

Max explained what had happened, and Darby scratched his head. “Do you think it has to do with what happened to the Slaters and Nelson?”

She frowned. “Why would his disappearance be related to what happened to them?”

“Maybe he saw something—your dad’s all over the county in that mail truck,” Darby said. “Or maybe he knew something about whoever killed the others back before the dam was built.”

Jenna didn’t miss the way he suddenly stiffened or the expression on his face that said he wished he could call back the words. “If you’re talking about my grandfather and Todd Donelson’s dad, their deaths were both ruled accidental, so why did you say they were killed?”

He swallowed hard and shrugged. “I don’t know. Seems there might’ve been some talk—”

“There wasn’t.” She crossed her arms. “What are you not telling us?”

Darby shifted his gaze toward the road. When he turned back to her, his face had shuttered. “I don’t know anything ... and if people thought otherwise, I might end up dead.”

Did he think someone was out to get him because of what he knew? There had to be a way to get him to talk. Jenna shifted toward him. “Why would you say that?”

He toed a stick at the edge of the drive. “Ain’t that what generally happens to folk who know too much?”

“Do you know too much?” Jenna asked softly. She tilted her head and studied him. “People never see the janitor. He’s like a piece of the furniture. Did you hear something while you worked at city hall?”

“No.”

He’d answered too quickly. “Is that why you’ve hidden out all these years? Out of sight, out of mind?”

He turned toward his house. “I got things to do.”

She put her hand on his arm. “Please, Mr. Darby, if you know anything that will help us find the murderer or my dad, tell us.”

His shoulders sagged and he stared down at the ground. Thenhe shook his head. “If I knew anything that would help you find your daddy, I’d tell you. But I don’t.”

The finality of his words pierced her heart like an arrow. They were getting nowhere with the case, and there’d been no ransom demand. She pulled on his arm until he was looking at her. “It’s killing me, knowing someone has him. I know you still roam the woods around here. If you see or hear anything, call me.”

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