George and I stood with the Bodines. More than ever, I felt the connection between our families. Not just because my sister was on her way to becoming a Bodine in the not-too-distant future. Because, more than any other two families in this town, we were linked, the Tuckers and the Bodines. Linked by shared history and friendship, and by a belief that the past didn’t have to write our futures for us.
Shelby, George’s sister, was on his other side. She’d been here, in Bootleg Springs, last year at the tail end of the media circus. She’d come back this morning. I hadn’t had a chance to speak to her much, past our initial introductions. But she was here doing research of some kind. I was interested to find out more.
Scarlett and Jonah both gave her the side-eye, but I wasn’t sure what that was about. In fact, a few people eyed her with suspicion. Perhaps they didn’t remember her, and they wondered why she was here, on a night that was so personal to our town.
I glanced across the street and noticed Henrietta VanSickle. She glanced across our group, her gaze intense. I hadn’t seen her in town in months. She was a hermit who lived outside Bootleg Springs. Rumor had it that she’d taken a vow of silence. I’d certainly never heard her speak. There’d always been something slightly appealing about Henrietta’s life, quiet and alone in the mountains.
But imagine the things I would have missed if I’d have withdrawn so completely like she had. I’d have missed George. And that would have been a tragedy.
When the vigil was over, the crowd started to break up. George and I said goodbye to his sister, who was staying in a B&B down by the lake. Cassidy asked the rest of us to meet her at the Red House in half an hour.
I directed George to the little rental house Scarlett owned. It was a cute little cottage, secluded from most of the other rental properties around the lake. The long drive was lined with cars when we arrived.
Everyone shuffled inside. The businesses in town had all been closed, but someone had managed to rustle up pepperoni rolls and sandwiches. Someone else had brought beer and lemonade.
Everyone who wanted food or a drink got it, and we settled in the small living room. Jameson and Scarlett sat at the tiny table, picking at a donut. Leah Mae sat on the couch next to Gibson. Jonah stood, and I wondered if he was subconsciously keeping himself separate from his half-siblings. Devlin sat on the hearth in front of the cold fireplace, and Bowie sat in an armchair.
George and I found a spot on the floor. He put his arm around me and scooted me closer.
Cassidy stood and glanced around the room. “Thanks for coming. I figured we were all in one place, so might as well get things out in the open.”
George shifted next to me. “I can go if…”
“He can stay,” Gibson said, his voice gruff.
“Agreed,” Bowie said. “We’re all involved, now.”
Cassidy crossed her arms, her expression serious. Her Deputy Tucker face. “For now, none of this leaves this room. We clear?”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“Okay, here’s where we are. Callie is still missing. We all know Jonah Sr. had her cardigan. DNA evidence shows it was her blood on it. We also know her fingerprints were in Connie’s car. Abbie Gilbert’s story of Jonah giving her a ride out of town seemed to explain all that. But of course, none of it was true. So we still don’t know why they had the sweater, or why her fingerprints were in the car.”
Everyone shifted uncomfortably.
“Y’all, it gets worse.” Cassidy took a deep breath. “The remains of a teenage girl were found in upstate New York a week ago. It used to be a rural area, but now it’s a construction site. New houses going in. One of the crews came across a body.”
“Oh god,” someone muttered. I wasn’t sure who.
“The remains are a partial skeleton. There’s not enough to get a DNA sample or dental records for a positive identification. But they were able to determine it’s been out there for twelve or thirteen years. Gender and approximate age are a match for Callie. And it was found about twenty miles from where Jonah Sr. got that speeding ticket. We got the call shortly after we reopened Callie’s case. It’s a close enough match, they alerted us.”
Gibson’s face reddened and he clenched his fists. Bowie scrubbed his hands up and down his face. Jonah rubbed the back of his neck—a gesture I remembered his father engaging in. Leah Mae reached over and rubbed Jameson’s leg. He looked a bit green. Scarlett’s eyes glistened with tears and Devlin stood to put his arm around her.
“God, I just…” Scarlett said, her voice uncharacteristically shaky. “I thought Callie was alive, and now…”
“Jesus,” Bowie muttered.
Gibson stared at the floor, his jaw tight. I wondered if he was about to lose his temper, but he remained still.
“So that’s it, then,” Jameson said. “Dad must have—”
“The evidence isn’t conclusive,” I said, interrupting him.
“It’s pretty fucking conclusive, Juney,” Gibson said.
“Until there’s a positive identification of the remains in question—”
“He took her out there and dumped her fucking body,” Gibson said. His voice was thick with anger, his ice-blue eyes like cold steel.
I shrank back against George.
“Easy, Gibs,” George said.
“Fuck this.” Gibson stood, pushed his way past Jonah, and marched out the door, slamming it behind him.
Everyone shifted in the uncomfortable silence, the sound of the slamming door echoing through the room. Or maybe it just echoed in my head.
“Why does he always have to make things worse?” Scarlett muttered.
“I’ll give him time to cool off, then go talk to him,” Jameson said.
Scarlett gave him a weak smile. “Thanks, Jame.”
“Y’all, I’m so sorry about all this,” Cassidy said. “I wish the news was different. It was such a relief when we thought she was alive and your dad’s role in it was explained.”
“It’s not your fault.” Bowie stepped in next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. “We need answers, Cass. We need to find out what really happened, for better or worse, so we can all move on.”
“There’s one more thing,” Cassidy said. “Y’all know Bowie and I found your mom’s old GPS. It had the location she’d been to on the day she died—the Four Seasons Hotel in Baltimore.”
“Why would she have gone out there?” Jameson asked.
“I didn’t think it meant anything at first,” Cassidy said. “With the Callie mystery supposedly solved, I didn’t think there was any connection between your mom’s accident and Callie’s case. But after June told me the woman was an impostor, I got to thinking. I did some research and there was a charity event that day at the Four Seasons. I’m sure Connie had a good heart, but I don’t recall her attending a lot of fancy charity luncheons in the city.”
“No,” Bowie said.
“Fortunately, they keep lots of records, so I was able to drum up a guest list from the event,” Cassidy said. “Y’all, Mrs. Kendall was there that day.”
“You think our mama went there to see Mrs. Kendall?” Scarlett asked.
“It seems likely,” Cassidy said. “It doesn’t prove anything, and without talking to Mrs. Kendall, we don’t know why. But it sure looks like she went out there to talk to Mrs. Kendall, and got in an accident on the way home.”
“Let’s be logical about this,” Bowie said. “Let’s say Dad did something. Maybe he didn’t kill Callie on purpose. Maybe it was an accident. What if he tried to hide what had happened and Mom found out? If Mom discovered the truth, she could have decided to tell Mrs. Kendall.”
“Would she have done that first?” Jonah asked. “Or gone to the police?”
“And if she told Mrs. Kendall, why didn’t the Kendalls do anything?” Jameson asked. “If they had the truth from Mom, why didn’t they tell the police? They’ve said they wish the investigation was over. If they could end it with evidence from Mom, why st
ay quiet about it?”
“Because Mom died?” Scarlett asked. “She wasn’t around to confirm the story?”
“I suppose,” Bowie said. “Or maybe Mrs. Kendall didn’t believe Mom. Or hell, maybe Mom changed her mind and didn’t tell.”
“She could have decided to protect Dad,” Jameson said, his voice quiet. “Maybe she drove all the way out there and turned around before she talked to Mrs. Kendall.”
Cassidy glanced at Bowie, and he gave her a nod. “I have to be honest with y’all. I don’t know if your mom’s accident was an accident. There weren’t any brake marks on the road.”
“What?” Scarlett shrieked. “Are you saying someone might have run her off the road?”
“It’s a possibility,” Cassidy said.
“Did the forensics lab find anything when they reexamined the car?” Devlin asked. “Something that would tell us whether she was forced off the road?”
“Their results were inconclusive,” Cassidy said, emphasizing the word.
“I hate to even say this out loud,” Jameson said, his voice quiet. “But could Mom have driven off the road on purpose?”
“Mom wouldn’t have done that,” Scarlett said. “I know she had her frustrations, but she never would have left us like that.”
“I think Scarlett’s right,” Bowie said. “Mom was too stubborn to give up on life. Hell, she never even gave up on Dad. Not entirely.”
Bowie raised an important point. Jonah and Connie Bodine hadn’t exhibited the traits of a happy marriage. But they’d seemed to do their best to hold their family together.
“No, she didn’t give up on him,” Scarlett said. “She didn’t give up on our family.”
“Y’all are right,” Jameson said. “But that means…”
“Could it have still been an accident?” Devlin asked. “A hit and run?”
“That’s possible,” Cassidy said.
Scarlett narrowed her eyes. “But you don’t think so.”
“There’s something about this whole thing that doesn’t add up,” Cassidy said. “She went to Baltimore, where she might have had contact with Mrs. Kendall, and then she got in a car accident on the way home. When you add in the sweater, and the fingerprints in her car…”
“It’s suspicious at best,” Bowie said.
“I hate leaving y’all with more questions and no answers,” Cassidy said. “But I’m going to do everything I can to find out the truth—about Callie, and your parents.”
There were mutters of, “Thanks, Cass,” from around the room.
I leaned against George, turning the facts over in my mind. The sweater and the fingerprints pointed to Jonah Bodine’s involvement. But what about Connie? It was her car. Had she done something and Jonah had been covering for her? Was it the other way around?
Connie Bodine could have given Callie a ride somewhere on another day. We were a small town, a close-knit community. It wasn’t uncommon for Bootleggers to parent other people’s kids.
But why had they kept her sweater? And why had Connie gone to Baltimore that day, a year later? And the biggest question of all—had Callie’s body finally been found?
Cassidy was right, there were still more questions than answers. It seemed as if every new clue only muddied the waters. That bothered me deeply and I vowed I’d do everything I could to help the Bodines find out what had really happened. I’d exposed Abbie Gilbert. Maybe I could help discover the truth about Callie Kendall, too.
42
George
It was the perfect day for moving. The sun was out, but it wasn’t hot. Traffic from Philly had been minimal. I’d spent the last week packing and getting rid of things I wouldn’t need. Today, on a bright day in May, the movers loaded up what was left and drove it out to my new home in Bootleg Springs.
The home I was sharing with my June Bug.
Her house already had plenty of furniture, so I’d gotten rid of most of mine. I had some memorabilia from my years playing football that she was champing at the bit to put on display. She’d also decided she liked my couch better than hers, so we were switching that out. But all in all, it was an easy move, as moves went.
My career was over, my house sold, and I couldn’t have been happier about any of it. If I’d played another season, I might never have come to Bootleg Springs. I might never have met June Tucker. And that would have been a damn shame.
I paused on the grass in front of her house—or rather, our house—to watch her. She directed the movers with her no-nonsense brand of confidence, making sure they knew exactly where to put things. Back straight, arms at her sides, expression neutral. She was strange and beautiful and oddly hypnotic. I loved her.
I was an absolute goner for June Tucker. Seven billion people on this planet, and I couldn’t imagine there was another one like her. She was logical, blunt, and so smart she made my head spin. But she was also passionate and determined. She challenged me, made me want to be better than I was, and I loved the hell out of her for it.
That woman was mine, and she was going to be mine forever. I wasn’t sure if she knew it yet, and I wasn’t going to rush her. But I was going to marry June Tucker someday.
“Why don’t you take a break?” I asked, walking up next to her. “They’ve got this under control.”
“It’s a more efficient use of everyone’s time if I ensure they put boxes in the correct locations. Otherwise we’ll have to move them a second time.”
“Everything’s labeled.”
“That’s true, but I’m not completely confident they’re reading the labels.”
I slid my arms around her, pulling her in for a kiss. “You’re cute when you’re insisting on maximum organization and efficiency.”
“I can’t tell if that’s a serious statement.”
“Of course I’m serious,” I said. “You’re adorable.”
Jonah came out the front door, just as the two movers took a load in. “How’s it going down here?”
“Almost unloaded,” I said.
“Thanks. I’m all packed and ready for them.”
Although June and I had offered to let Jonah stay—we didn’t need the extra bedroom—he’d decided to move out. When June had announced to everyone that we were officially engaging in a living arrangement of mutually agreed-upon cohabitation—and I’d explained that she meant we were moving in together—everyone had looked at Gibson, as if expecting him to offer to let Jonah move in with him. Gibson had said nothing, just raised one eyebrow, and Jonah had quickly said he’d decided to find his own place.
Shelby pulled up in her little blue sedan. Her hair was in a bouncy ponytail and she waved at me from the street.
“Hey, big giant brother,” she said as she walked over. “Hey, June.”
“Hello, Shelby,” June said.
I knew it could take a little while for June to warm up to people—not to mention the other way around—but she and my sister seemed to get along. June had even suggested we offer the soon-to-be vacant bedroom to Shelby after Jonah moved out. Shelby had thanked us, but decided to stay in her B&B for the time being. I got the feeling that she was grateful for the offer, but didn’t want to intrude on our privacy.
To be honest, I was glad. I loved my sister, but I didn’t really want her sleeping one room away. Not when June had only recently discovered her sex kitten side. We’d been having a hell of a lot of fun exploring her sexuality. I wasn’t too keen on anything that would put a damper on that.
“Hey Jonah, have you met my sister, Shelby?” I asked.
Jonah hesitated, and when he spoke, there was coldness in his tone. “Yeah, we’ve met.”
“Hi,” Shelby said, flashing him a smile. “Nice to see you again, Jonah.”
“You too,” he said. “Um, I have to get going. Moving out and everything.”
“Right,” Shelby said. Oh shit, I knew that little spark in her eye. Maybe Jonah didn’t know it, but he’d just thrown down a gauntlet, and Shelby loved nothing more than a challe
nge. “Good luck with the move. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Sure.” He went back inside.
Shelby crossed her arms. “Well that was weird.”
“Jonah recently experienced an unfortunate public rejection at the Do-Over Prom,” June said. “Perhaps his present mood is due to lingering feelings of resentment toward his date.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Shelby said.
Bowie and Cassidy pulled up in Bowie’s car, distracting us from Jonah’s abrupt departure. He parked behind Shelby and they both got out.
“Sorry we’re late,” Bowie said. “But we brought beer, so hopefully that’s better than lifting heavy furniture.”
“The movers handled most of it,” I said. “And beer is always appreciated.”
I introduced Bowie and Cass to my sister. They’d also met her before, but this felt like an important moment. These two were going to be family to me, once I married June. I couldn’t come out and say that, of course, but I was thinking it. Made me smile.
It also made me excited to introduce June to my parents. We’d had several video chats with them already. My father was enamored with June’s mental database of sports statistics. They’d started chatting over text, and she’d invited him to be a part of her fantasy football league next season. I’d warned him that June almost never lost, but like Shelby, he loved a challenge.
I couldn’t blame him. So did I. Ran in the family, apparently.
Shelby offered to make a run into town to get food for everyone. By the time she got back, the movers had taken Jonah’s stuff to his new place. We spent a bit of time moving boxes into corners and unpacking a few things, then sat down to pizza and beer.
And damn, it felt good.
Cassidy and Bowie lounged comfortably on the couch that had barely been used in my old place. I hadn’t been home enough to use it. Shelby sat on the floor, her paper plate in her lap, and scratched Mellow’s tiny head.
June sat with me in the oversized arm chair that had been hers. The two of us barely fit, which was exactly why I liked sharing it with her. She was halfway on my lap, the warmth of her body soothing and comfortable. Her attention shifted from the TV—I’d turned on ESPN—to the conversations around her.
Bourbon Bliss: Bootleg Springs Book Four Page 29
