by Lucy Score
“No. I’m feeling frustrated. I expected to come home with at least a few answers instead of just more questions. And what did we find out?”
“We discovered that the woman who impersonated Callie Kendall, bilking the Kendalls out of money and an apartment, is now deceased. And the accident remains unsolved,” she summarized. “Then we questioned Mrs. Benefiel, who perpetuated the existing story. That she made a report and then immediately recanted it.”
“Yep. That’s what we found out,” I agreed, feeling tired and frustrated. I’d forgotten lunch and now wasn’t even hungry.
My phone rang, and I winced when I saw the readout on the screen. Jonah.
I hit the ignore button. “We should probably decide on what we’re going to tell Jonah and GT about where we were today,” I told June.
She blinked and frowned at me. “That we went to Baltimore to question Abbie and found her deceased. Then we drove to Mrs. Benefiel’s home where Katherine and Billy Ray got to play with her Great Dane while we questioned her about the sealed child services report.”
“We can’t tell them that!”
“Why not? It’s the truth.”
“Do you always tell GT the truth?” I didn’t know if I was more nervous about Jonah or my brother discovering how we’d spent our day.
“Of course. What’s the point of being in a relationship if you feel it necessary to tell falsehoods?” she asked, looking at me as if I’d just suggested that math was stupid and shouldn’t be taught in schools anymore.
“Well, I…” I didn’t know what to say to that. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Jonah… was it?
Of course not. He was a good guy.
I was just trying to avoid his judgment over what might be deemed questionable behavior. I didn’t want to have the argument that would undoubtedly unfold when I explained that I stuck my nose into an investigation without trusting law enforcement to do their due diligence.
“Oh, hell,” I whispered. I was doing exactly what he’d called me out for doing. Hiding things from people I cared about so I didn’t have to face their reactions or defend myself. I didn’t think I’d done anything truly wrong today. Besides upsetting Mrs. Benefiel. I felt terrible about that, and I was planning on sending her a nice fruit basket or maybe a pizza gift certificate as an apology.
“You shouldn’t be dishonest with Jonah,” June said, pulling her ball cap off and stuffing it into her purse. She didn’t bother looking in the mirror to fix her hair.
“I know. I know.” I did know. But old habits were hard to break.
“Sometimes men surprise you in delightful ways,” she said. “Sometimes they accept you for exactly who you are. But the only way you can discover that kind of relationship is by behaving authentically.”
“Oh, June,” I sighed. “You’re a good friend.”
“Yes. I am.”
I cracked a smile. Maybe it was time to stop shutting everyone out. I was thirty years old and this close to a doctorate. I shouldn’t spend my time worrying about having to defend my decisions. If Jonah didn’t like who I was, then he was welcome to move on and find someone else less curious, less rash, less creaky in the joints.
I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. I had to trust Jonah to accept me. I owed that to him.
“I feel that we should bring our findings to my father’s attention,” June announced as I pulled into her driveway. Katherine, sensing she was home, woke with a snort.
Part of me wanted to retain ownership of the research. But a slightly smarter part recognized that it was a better choice to turn things over to Sheriff Tucker and let him pass them up the chain of command. If my concerns were dismissed, then I’d be free to continue my own investigation.
“I think that’s a good idea, June. How about I go home and talk to Jonah? Then we can go see your dad at the station?”
“That will be acceptable.”
June and Katherine got out and headed into the house. I spent the five-minute drive home practicing what I’d say to Jonah.
“Hey, so you know how I said I was taking Billy Ray on a playdate with June and Katherine? Well, instead I took everyone on a road trip to interrogate the Callie Kendall impersonator—who by the way is conveniently dead as of Thursday—and a really sweet retired music teacher who I’m pretty sure cried after we left. What’s for dinner?”
Billy Ray propped his paws up on the console and yipped.
“It’s just a first draft,” I explained to the dog. “Uh-oh. Daddy’s home.” I pulled in behind Jonah’s car. He was stretching on the front porch, taking hits from a water bottle.
He looked up, grinned, waved.
My heart did a little thump hop in my chest. Just physical attraction, I told myself. Just appreciating the fine male form.
“Hey there, cutie pie,” he said, descending the stairs to meet me in the driveway.
He brushed his mouth over mine in a sweet, lazy kiss.
My cheeks flushed with heat. I couldn’t tell if I was nervous about coming clean or if it was something else. Something about coming home to Jonah Bodine who called me cutie pie and kissed me in the front yard.
“Hi,” I said breathlessly.
“There’s my buddy,” Jonah said, kneeling down to rough up Billy Ray’s ears. The puppy looked about as smitten as I felt. Oh, boy. I was in serious trouble.
“We were invited to dinner with your parents, drinks at Jameson and Leah Mae’s, and out on a double date with my mom and—God help us all—Jimmy Bob Prosser,” he announced, scooping the puppy up under one arm and slinging his free arm over my shoulders steering me toward the house.
“Oh?” Since we’d initiated our physical relationship, we’d gotten awfully popular.
“I told them all we were busy,” he said.
“You did? What are we busy doing?” Besides spending the evening fighting over what I’m about to tell you?
“Each other,” he said with a devilish wink. His hand skimmed my bare arm, and my sensible underwear dissolved.
“Before we, um, participate in that particular activity, we do have to do something fully clothed and socially um… necessary.”
* * *
Scarlett: Has anyone talked to Gibs lately?
Bowie: Gibs who?
Jameson: Does Gibs willingly talk to anyone?
Jonah: Haven’t heard from him since the cookout.
Scarlett: I’m getting annoyed with the hermit routine. Y’all think he’s wallowing?
Bowie: I’ll give him a call and obnoxiously pump him for information. I need a favor from him anyway.
Scarlett: Bless your Bodine heart! Lemme know if the grumpy bastard needs anything.
43
Jonah
I took it as well as I could. Mindful that this was very likely some kind of Shelby test.
So my girlfriend took our dog, our friend, and our friend’s pig on an investigation road trip because she was convinced she had a lead that investigators had ignored for thirteen years. And now she needed to go to the sheriff and explain what she’d found.
I took another cleansing breath.
“Do I have time for a shower?” I asked.
Shelby blinked. She’d been twisting her hands together and biting the corner of her bottom lip.
“Uh. Yeah? I mean, sure,” she said.
“Okay. Why don’t you grab a snack while I shower and change?”
“Yeah. Great. Sure. Wait!” She grabbed me when I started for the stairs. “You don’t seem mad.”
“I’m not.” I wasn’t really mad. Mad wasn’t the right word. Concerned. Annoyed. Extremely cognizant of the fact that if I launched into a lecture on what she should have done, I’d be reinforcing the concerns she had about sharing information with people who cared about her. Nothing good would come from me blowing up at her. So I gave her a smile and a gentle shove in the direction of the kitchen. “See you in a few.”
I dashed up the stairs and stripped in the bathroom. My face was un
der the stream of tepid water when the door burst open.
“I’m not buying this ‘not mad’ thing,” she announced, waving a yogurt cup at me. “I did something a little bit on the stupid side today, and you’re fine with it?”
I turned to face her. “Stupid is a little harsh, don’t you think?” I said mildly.
Her gaze traveled down my body, lingering on the interesting parts.
Not wanting to miss out on the conversation, Billy Ray trotted in behind her and sat down on the bath mat.
“I tried to track down a known con artist and then intimidated a really nice older lady because I had a hunch.”
“From the sounds of it, your hunch has some basis to it.” I ducked my head back under the water to rinse the shampoo.
She watched me for almost an entire minute, eyes narrowed and calculating. I twisted off the faucet and stepped out. In the bathroom the size of a postage stamp, we were almost touching.
I reached around her for a towel and heard her intake of breath.
“I know what you’re doing,” she said, spooning yogurt into her mouth, her expression a picture of suspicion.
“What am I doing besides drying off?”
“You’re proving to me that telling the truth to people I care about doesn’t necessarily have to have the consequences I fear.”
Smart, smart girl.
“Is that what I’m doing?” I asked innocently.
“Jonah!”
“Shelby!”
“I’d rather you be honest with me,” she said. Then she laughed. “Darn you, June Tucker,” she muttered.
“You’d rather I be honest?” I repeated.
“Yes!” It looked like Shelby’s answer surprised her, and that took the edge off my frustration. “I was honest with you. Now it’s your turn. Jonah, I took our puppy and our friend plus a pig on a road trip with the intention of interrogating two strangers. One of which was under investigation for fraud until she mysteriously ended up dead. Then I made a grandma cry after taking cookies from her under false pretenses.”
“At least you didn’t go alone,” I said mildly.
“Jonah Bodine!” She stomped her foot, and Billy Ray let out a joyful bark, certain it was a game.
“Shelby Thompson. What do you want me to say?”
“The truth. What are you thinking right now?”
“I’m thinking that I’m glad you grabbed a yogurt instead of some garbage candy for your snack. I’m thinking you look so pretty right now that it’s hard to concentrate on how much I want to yell at you.”
“Thank you! Go ahead and yell,” she shouted.
I obliged. “What in the hell were you thinking, Shelby? Do you have any idea what could have happened to you or June? That con artist could have been more than a fraud, and you know it. She could have been dangerous. It was irresponsible, and you should have told me. You could have talked me into going with you. You know I would have.”
“You would have tried to talk me out of it and then complained the whole time about what a dumb idea it was!”
“That’s exactly what I would have done!” I agreed at full volume.
“I really like you! Your opinion matters to me. I didn’t want you disappointed that I couldn’t just let this go or hand it off. It was a sealed record, but someone with the right authority had to have looked at it and disregarded it. I felt that there was something there, and I wanted to find out!”
“I understand that!” I yelled back. “And I like you, too. A lot. That’s why it matters to me when you do something rash without clueing me in! I’m here because I care about you. So don’t do more stupid shit without at least talking me into supporting you first, got it?”
“Fine! This is the healthiest fight I’ve ever had in my entire adulthood,” she admitted, lowering her voice almost to normal conversational level.
“This is adulthood. Kinda makes you wonder how your family would react if you finally told them about your health, doesn’t it?” I shot back.
“Stop distracting me with your dancing pectorals and put some clothes on,” Shelby insisted. She turned for the door. Billy Ray looked forlorn like he couldn’t decide which parent to stay with. She paused. “And I’m going to tell them. After my triathlon.”
“Aren’t they going home before then?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“A phone call works just as well as face-to-face.” She sniffed.
“Does it?” I made my pecs dance. Shelby’s gaze was drawn hypnotically to my chest.
She shook her head and turned her back on me. “Please put some clothes on and come with me to the sheriff’s office.”
* * *
Not much in this world riled the sheriff of Bootleg Springs. It came with the badge. Harlan Tucker was a calm man used to soothing frayed feelings, smoothing over rough edges.
But hearing his daughter’s admission that she willingly hunted down a known fraud had him blinking rapidly for almost a minute straight.
George handled it… less subtly. His big frame was slumped in a chair in the station’s conference room, a meaty hand over his eyes.
The room smelled of stale coffee and old pastries.
“I can’t believe my sister and my girlfriend thought they’d just take the law into their own hands,” George moaned. “Again.”
June patted him on the shoulder. “Let’s focus on the part where Shelby and I believe we’ve uncovered important information regarding the investigation into Callie Kendall’s murder.”
Sheriff Tucker stroked a hand over his white mustache. “Huh,” he said.
I felt a little sorry for the man who was being forced to walk the line between family and the law.
“So what do we do next?” Shelby asked next to me.
I saw the sheriff’s nearly imperceptible flinch at the “we” part of that question.
“We are going to pass this information on to the investigators,” he began, holding up a hand when both June and Shelby started to argue. “And we are going to impress upon them that some of these details might bear consideration.”
Shelby sat back and crossed her arms. “In other words, you want us to mind our business.”
“Shelby, I appreciate your… initiative,” he decided, choosing the word carefully. “And I certainly believe that this information needs to be relayed through the appropriate channels. But I would be remiss if I didn’t strongly encourage you all to bring your concerns directly to law enforcement. It’s what we’re here for. It’s job security for me.”
“You will look into Abbie’s death, won’t you?” Shelby pressed.
“I certainly will. I promise you that,” the sheriff agreed.
“Good. George and I need to get back to our pig,” June announced, rising.
“Sheriff, if you don’t mind another request from me,” Shelby said. “I think someone intimidated Mrs. Benefiel into recanting her claim. Someone that she is still afraid of. If you do speak to her, can you do it very quietly?”
Sheriff Tucker nodded. “I will definitely do that,” he promised.
Some of the tension left Shelby’s shoulders. “Okay. Good. Thank you for your time,” she said.
We rose and started for the door.
“I’m telling Mom and Dad,” George said, pointing a long finger at Shelby.
She scrunched her nose up at him but didn’t argue.
“Gee, Shelby, you sure are working hard to win the most memorable summer fling,” I told her, slinging my arm around her as we stepped out into the night thick with humidity.
“All part of my master plan to make sure you never forget me.”
44
Shelby
I rolled my shoulders and adjusted the volume on Salt-N-Pepa as they warbled nineties vibes in my ears. It was early evening, and I was nearing the end of my allotted work hours. I still had a ten-mile bike ride to squeeze in. Working my way through the most recent survey responses—I’d had 936 so far—I was slowly crafting a structure for my pap
er. One that felt as organic yet cohesive as the responses I was getting.
I still felt like something was missing. That the key was somehow in the next response or the next. But overall, I was finally making real progress.
I shot a glance at the vase of wildflowers behind my laptop. Jonah. He’d picked them up at a little stand in the park yesterday and brought them home for me. Going for that Most Memorable Summer Fling notoriety. He made it so easy to appreciate him, to fall for him.
I grinned at the whimsical flowers, the chipped pitcher we’d found in the kitchen. And turned back to the next survey.
Q. What factors make you feel as if you belong here as part of the community?
Jonah Bodine: A few months ago, I would have said I didn’t necessarily belong. That I was just passing through. That the only thing keeping me here was the family I was getting to know. But that’s not the case. I came for the family, stayed for the family. Then something strange started to happen.
I wasn’t just new in town anymore. I wasn’t just a gossip item or an oddity. I was providing a service, meeting a need. The more I gave to this town, the more they gave me in return. I was alone when I came to Bootleg Springs. But I’m not alone now. I have new family, new friends, interesting clients, a roommate that I can’t stop thinking about, and a dog.
Somehow, I accidentally built an entire life here without noticing that I was planting roots. I think part of it is good-natured conspiracy. My family wants me to stay. This town wants me to stay. Every connection I make here binds me tighter to the community. Every class I teach, every client I help is one more root planted. Every bonfire, every kiss, every beer or pepperoni roll or day on the water makes Bootleg Springs more a part of my life. And I don’t know if I want to fight it anymore.
My heart did an agreeable little tap dance as several stimuli worked on my system simultaneously.
The woman in me swooned just the tiniest bit at Jonah’s admission that he couldn’t stop thinking about me. The data nerd tap danced at the fact that he’d willingly filled out the survey.
