I turned to look, but he was gone. Had I imagined him? Or had he turned down the gap between two buildings?
“Is that what?” George asked. “Did you see her?”
“No.” I looked again, but I didn’t see anyone. “For a second, I thought I saw Gibson Bodine.”
“Gibson? What would he be doing out here?”
“I don’t know. I must be mistaken.”
George rubbed his chin. “Did he know Callie?”
“I’d assume as well as any of us did. Although Gibson was twenty to her sixteen when she disappeared. I don’t recall him hanging around with the teenage crowd then.”
“Hmm,” George said. “I was just wondering if maybe he was here doing what we’re doing. Trying to figure out if it’s really her.”
“I suppose it’s possible. But more likely that I saw someone similar and my brain filled in the missing pieces, constructing a likeness I recognized.”
He grinned at me. “Fair enough.”
Just then, Callie left her building.
“Duck!” I tried to push his head down as I scrunched low in my seat.
“I think ducking is more conspicuous than just sitting here like we belong.”
“That’s a valid point.” Now that I was down low, I couldn’t see, but it seemed prudent to remain where I was so my movement didn’t attract additional attention. “Did she look?”
“Nope.”
“What’s she doing? I need you to be my eyes, George.”
“She’s getting in a car.”
“Is she leaving?”
“Not yet, but I think it’s safe to assume that’s why she got in.”
“Follow her. But not too close.” I paused, hearing Cassidy’s chastisement in my mind. Manners, June. “I mean, please follow her. But not too close.”
“Will do, Scooby-June.”
He pulled out onto the street. I stayed low, watching the tops of buildings, trees, and bits of sky. Eventually, I deemed it safe to sit up, which was decidedly more comfortable. And certainly safer in the event of an accident.
Callie parked in front of a restaurant and got out. George found a spot a block away and we got out to follow.
“Act natural,” I whispered to George as we walked toward the restaurant.
He paused and his eyes flicked up and down. “Are you going to wear those glasses inside?”
I considered that for a second. It seemed as if concealing my identity was the prudent choice. But if this woman wasn’t Callie—and I was convinced she wasn’t—she wouldn’t recognize me. And wearing sunglasses indoors might appear unnecessarily conspicuous.
“No, I suppose that isn’t necessary.” I took them off and put them in my bag. “You go first and we’ll pretend we’re not together.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re going to talk to her.”
“Hold on, Scooby-June. You mean you want me to distract her, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course. You should flirt with her. I suspect a flirtatious encounter will be particularly distracting.”
“Flirt with her.” He hadn’t phrased it as a question.
I answered anyway. “Yes.”
“And you’re going to try to get something with her DNA.” Again, not phrased as a question.
“Yes.”
He shook his head. “All right. I guess I signed on for this crazy when I agreed to come out here. At least it’s not a biker bar this time.”
“Agreed. The level of danger we’re encountering must be at least seventy-two percent less than in Hollis Corner.”
“Is that so?” He bit his bottom lip. “Careful, June Bug. You keep talking statistics like that and I’ll be dragging you back to my car and making another run at second base.”
It took considerable effort to ignore the rush of heat between my legs. “This is important. We need to focus.”
The corner of his mouth hooked in a smile. “Okay, but I make no promises once we’re done here.”
My heart fluttered and my cheeks warmed at the thought of all the things George and I could do in his car. I blew out a breath to stay focused and gestured toward the door. “You first. I’ll wait before entering.”
“Okay. Just… be careful.”
“I’m not a reckless person by nature.”
“You’re a Bootlegger, June. Reckless is in your blood.”
He walked into the restaurant, letting the door shut behind him. I waited several minutes before following him inside.
About half of the tables were full and the buzz of conversation filled the air. It was small, almost cramped, with two- or four-person tables placed too close together for my taste. A harried-looking waitress dressed all in black navigated the small spaces between the tables. A seat yourself sign stood just inside the door, which was perfect for our purposes.
I picked a table near the entrance and slipped into the chair. George was already sitting at a table next to Callie. He was so tall, he dwarfed the small table, his right leg spilling out into the aisle. Yet his demeanor was casual, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. It made his size less intimidating than it might have been otherwise.
It was fascinating to watch him strike up a conversation with her. He simply leaned slightly in her direction and spoke. He was so natural, so confident in his ability to interact with others, I didn’t see even a hint of anxiety in his expression.
I couldn’t see Callie’s face, nor could I hear what they were saying. George’s eyes flicked to me for the briefest second and I remembered I was here on a mission.
I’d considered waiting until she left and taking the straw from her drink. But that might not contain enough DNA for the lab to get an accurate result. I was here now, I wanted to ensure I took full advantage of this opportunity.
That meant hair. The laboratory technician had said it was important that the root of the hair be intact. The best way to ensure I had a usable sample was to pluck several strands directly from her head.
The table behind her was taken, but only by a single occupant. I met George’s eyes again and nodded for him to keep talking. He shifted his body weight so he was angled toward her. She did the same. That seemed to indicate she was engrossed in their conversation. Now was my chance.
I moved to the table behind Callie and slipped into the empty seat. The other occupant looked up at me, his eyebrows raised. Clearly he didn’t understand why I’d just helped myself to a spot at his table. I needed to keep him quiet before he attracted Callie’s attention.
“Sorry. Are you alone?” I asked.
His mouth hung open for a second before he replied. “Uh, yeah.”
“May I join you?”
“Oh.” He closed the book he’d been reading and adjusted his glasses. “Um, yeah, I mean yes. I mean sure.”
“Thank you.”
I glanced over my shoulder. Callie and I were back to back, our chairs almost touching.
“I’m Luke,” he said. “I haven’t ordered yet, if you want to… you know…”
“What?” Something Cassidy had once told me suddenly sprang to mind. You need to pay attention so you can see when guys are flirting with you. Had that been an attempt at flirtation? “I’m June, but I’m in a committed relationship.”
“Oh, sure,” he said. “That’s… yeah, I’m not surprised.”
“However, you’re quite attractive and the fact that you’re reading increases your appeal. I suggest frequenting local bookstores if you’re interested in finding a date. If you see a girl you’re attracted to, offer to buy her a book. Better yet, buy the same book and ask her to have coffee with you later to discuss what you’ve read.”
He looked at me as if I’d just unlocked the secrets of the universe. “That’s a brilliant idea. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now if you’ll excuse me.”
I twisted around and reached. George’s voice rose slightly, and I could hear what might have been the punch line of a joke. I only meant to pluck a f
ew hairs. But right as I grabbed, she flipped her hair over her shoulder, and I wound up with a fistful instead.
Already mid-tug, there was nothing I could do. I yanked a handful of Callie’s hair right out of her head.
In a panic, I dove beneath the table. By some miracle I didn’t bump into the table legs, but I wound up practically sitting on Luke’s feet.
“Ouch.” Callie’s voice. I couldn’t see her—which was good because that meant she couldn’t see me—but by the view I had of her legs, she’d whipped around. “What was that?”
George’s voice rose in pitch—whether in fear of getting caught, or because he couldn’t see where I’d gone, I wasn’t sure. “Um, I don’t know. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I think so.”
I hesitated, but George continued talking to her. A second later, I decided the best course of action would be to leave immediately. As quickly as I could, I stuffed her hair in the plastic bag I’d brought to contain the DNA sample.
Glancing up, I caught Luke’s gaze. His eyes were wide, his expression full of alarm.
“It’s better if you don’t know,” I whispered.
Staying on my hands and knees, I crawled quickly for the door.
31
George
The door opened and shut, but I didn’t see anyone. Was that June? Jesus. She’d practically ripped a handful of hair out of Callie’s head. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice her leave.
“My name’s George, by the way,” I said, trying to keep Callie’s attention.
“Callie.” She reached up and smoothed the back of her hair down.
The waitress came to my table and asked if I was ready to order. I didn’t want to stay and have a meal, but it would look odd if I got up and left now. I ordered a coffee and a bagel. That wouldn’t take too long.
I figured June would want me to see what I could find out about Callie while I was in here. So, I kept talking. “Are you from Philly?”
“No, I moved here recently,” she said. “I grew up in Virginia. What about you?”
“I’m from Charlotte originally. But I’ve been in Philly for a while.”
“It’s a beautiful city,” she said. “I’ve always loved it here. What do you do for a living?”
The way she asked that question set me on edge—something in her tone. It reminded me of girls trying to pretend they didn’t know who I was, so I’d think they weren’t typical groupies.
“I used to play professional football. But I retired last season after an injury.”
“That’s terrible,” she said. “I’m sorry, I haven’t exactly been following… well, anything for a while now.”
Was she fishing for me to ask why? Or was she trying to avoid the topic of her supposed imprisonment by a cult? I decided to take the bait and see what she said.
“Pardon me if this is forward, but you look familiar,” I said. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
She batted her eyelashes and looked down. “Maybe. I guess I was a little bit newsworthy recently. I’m Callie Kendall.”
“Right,” I said. “The girl who reappeared after going missing all those years ago. Wow. It sounds like you had quite an experience.”
She nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I did. I’m just glad to be free.”
The waitress brought my coffee and bagel, then set a sandwich down on Callie’s table. She glanced at me again, her eyes widening with an expression I knew well. Recognition.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe I missed it before,” the waitress said. “You’re GT Thompson.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She practically giggled. “It’s really you. I’m sorry, I’m just such a big fan. I literally cried when you got hurt last season.”
A few other patrons were glancing my direction. Great. I hoped June hadn’t expected me to stay incognito. Now the whole place knew GT Thompson was here.
“Thanks for your concern,” I said with a smile. “But I’m doing just fine.”
Callie was watching me with what appeared to be mild curiosity. The waitress asked for an autograph, and the next thing I knew, I had a line of half a dozen people asking me to sign something.
Callie was still eating when the attention on me faded, and everyone went back to their meals. I decided I needed to get out of there. I didn’t think June would come in looking for me, but you never knew with that girl. She was ballsy enough, she just might.
I stood and nodded to Callie. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
I tossed some money on the table to cover the coffee and bagel I’d barely touched, then walked out the door.
Outside, I found June standing next to my car.
“Jesus,” I said under my breath. That had been stressful.
“What took you so long?” June asked. “Did you have lunch?”
“Sort of. I couldn’t walk out right after you, so I had to order something. And then the waitress recognized me. I had to sign a bunch of autographs before I could get out of there. If there was any reason to keep me being here a secret, I blew that one.”
“You are very tall. And you’re well known, especially here. It would have been difficult to remain inconspicuous.”
“No shit. Did you crawl out of there?”
She waved a hand, like it was of no importance. “Of course. I needed to get away without attracting undue attention.”
Since it had apparently worked—no one had remarked on a woman crawling out the door—I decided to let that drop. “Please tell me you got what you need.”
She grinned and held up a small plastic bag. “I believe I did.”
“Good job, Scooby-June. Now let’s go before she comes out.”
We got in my car, and I drove away quickly. That had been nerve-wracking. June was many things, but subtle wasn’t one of them. I couldn’t believe Callie hadn’t caught her grabbing her hair.
“What did she talk about?” June asked. “Did you get anything incriminating?”
“Not really. She said she was a recent Philly transplant, but she’d grown up in Virginia.”
June tapped her finger against her lips. “Grew up in Virginia is consistent with Callie Kendall. But she must have researched the case thoroughly to be able to pull this off. She’d know where the real Callie grew up. Anything else?”
“I got the sense that she was pretending she didn’t know who I was. I could be wrong about that, but I’ve seen it before. Some girls try to get close to players by acting like they don’t know who we are. She gave me that vibe.”
“Interesting.”
“Tell me something. What are you going to do if you’re wrong and she is the real Callie?”
She shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Nothing? Just let it go?”
“I’ll still wonder about the inconsistencies in her story. At that point, the most plausible explanation will be that she made errors when she was interviewed by police. But I’m confident that my theory is correct. And soon, I’ll have proof.”
“I suppose you will.”
* * *
The next day, I had phone calls to make. Secretly planning a big event was proving to be a lot of work. I’d already gotten Bowie to let me use the high school gym, and Gibson and his band had agreed to provide the entertainment. I still needed to have posters made and I wanted to get a banner to string up across Lake Drive. I was hoping to keep my involvement on the down-low until after the event had been announced, and I could ask June to be my date. I’d let her know I was behind it later.
Andrea had sent me the names of some local printers, so I called to get pricing. I also needed to get my tux. I’d thought about renting one, but I was hard to fit for normal clothes, let alone a tuxedo. I’d either have Andrea bring mine out, or I’d take another trip to Philly before the big night.
With my checklist taken care of for the time being, I turned my attention to the stack of mail I’d picked up at my house. Usually Andrea so
rted it for me first, then sent me anything I needed. Since I was there, I’d just grabbed the stack.
I thumbed through the envelopes, tossing the junk mail in the recycling. There was a card from my mom with a little white bunny on the front. She had an honest-to-goodness greeting card addiction. She sent about one a month, whether there was a holiday or not, and she had shoeboxes full of them at home.
At the bottom of the pile was a nondescript white envelope. But the return address caught my eye. It was from the IRS.
Normally I would have sent anything tax-related to Andrea. But something about this made me wonder. If it was time sensitive, it might be better if I opened it.
I slipped my finger beneath the flap and tore it open. The crisp paper crinkled as I unfolded it. Scanning the letter, I stopped short.
… nonpayment …
… back taxes owed …
… applicable fines …
… investigation for tax evasion …
… will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law …
What the fuck was this?
I read through it again, letting the details sink in. It had to be a mistake. According to this letter, I not only owed back taxes for the last five years, they were threatening to investigate for tax evasion.
Tax evasion meant prison.
I grabbed my phone and tried to call Andrea, but she didn’t answer. I paced around the room, reading the letter again. This was bad. Really bad. A guy I’d played with in San Francisco had been caught cheating on his taxes. He’d lied about the income from his endorsement deals and tried to hide the money. They’d come after him hard core. He’d only avoided prison by paying an enormous amount in interest and penalties. It had nearly ruined him.
The urgency had me dialing my lawyer, Marc White. After waiting on hold for several minutes, his assistant put me through.
“Hi, GT. What can I do for you?”
“Marc, I have a problem. I got a notice from the IRS, and I’m not gonna lie, it’s kinda scary.”
“They always sound scary,” he said, his voice even. “Tell me what it says.”
I read it to him, then waited, hoping he was about to tell me I was overreacting.
Bourbon Bliss: Bootleg Springs Book Four Page 21
