Gin Fling (Bootleg Springs, #5)(38)

“Because of Rene?” she asked softly.

I set my teeth, annoyed with myself that after an entire year I still hadn’t moved on. “Yeah. I guess it still weighs on my mind.”

Shelby nodded and scooped up another bite. “The offer is there. You think about it.”

I doubted I’d be thinking of much else.





20





Shelby





Breakfast eaten and physical relationship offer made, Jonah guided me out of the diner with a hand on the small of my back. I approved.

“We’re going to take a whole new approach to your training,” he was saying.

I wondered if he knew he retreated into professional mode as a defense mechanism. I guessed that with as attractive as his clients were bound to find him, he had developed the defense early on in his career.

It didn’t bother me that he was using it against me. I’d rattled him. And presented him with an offer that he would most definitely be considering. A researcher was nothing if not patient. And I could be patient for Jonah. He had things to work through. I respected that.

It was a bright summer day. Summertimers, as Bootleg called them, flooded into town, filling rentals, buying out the Pop In, and splashing in the warm waters of the lake.

Jonah explained how we were going to work more on endurance and rest to ease my body into the distances required for the triathlon. It sounded well-thought-out, carefully researched. I approved the method.

“Pardon me,” I said when Mona Lisa McNugget pranced in front of us. We stopped and gave the chicken on a mission the right of way. “Be careful crossing the street,” I warned her.

I felt Jonah stiffen next to me and looked up.

The couple looked familiar. They were older, well-dressed, but unsmiling. There was something about them. Something wounded. Something wrong.

“Morning, Judge,” Jonah said. “Mrs. Kendall.”

The Kendalls. Missing Callie’s long-suffering parents. The dark cloud immediately made sense.

“Good morning,” the judge said, searching for Jonah’s name and coming up dry.

“Hi, I’m Shelby,” I said, offering my hand. “Jonah and the rest of the Bodines have been so welcoming to me in town.”

The judge looked down at my hand and hesitated briefly. It might have been my imagination, but I thought Mrs. Kendall nudged him before he took my hand. He shook like a limp fish. His palm was soft, smooth like it had never been sullied with manual labor. Mrs. Kendall, on the other hand, had a grip that was firm and bone dry. Her hair was cut in a ruthlessly stylish pixie shape. Her lips were painted a neutral pink, and she was wearing a sedate set of pearls over her ice blue sweater.

“Welcome to Bootleg Springs,” she said, her voice quiet yet not soft. “I’m sure you see why my husband and I keep coming back here. It’s a lovely escape.”

“It’s a wonderful town,” I agreed.

Inside, I was running through the last updates on the missing person case. These poor parents had been put through the fiasco of having an imposter come forward pretending to be their daughter. And now they were waiting, along with the rest of West Virginia, to find out if the body in New York was all that was left of their hopes of finding Callie alive.

It was miserably unfair. I felt guilty for my knee-jerk reaction to them.

I tried to focus on the tension radiating between Jonah and the Kendalls. Blood of the prime suspect pumped through his veins. The parents wanted answers, and the Bodines were afraid of what those answers might be.

“You’re the new Bodine, aren’t you?” Mrs. Kendall asked suddenly.

Jonah hesitated for a moment. “Yes. I came to Bootleg last year.”

“Did you and your father spend much time together when he was alive?” Judge Kendall asked, interest burning off the coolness in his gray eyes.

Jonah blinked, shook his head. “He wasn’t in my life, sir.”

Judge Kendall nodded, his expression unreadable. “A sad situation. A child should grow up with their parents.”

Mrs. Kendall slid her hand through her husband’s arm. It felt as if it was a signal more than a sign of affection. “Every child deserves good memories of their parents,” she said. “And every parent deserves a lifetime with their child. Not all of us get what we deserve.”

There was an unavoidable bond that linked the three of them together in the summer sunshine. Two people, now long gone, held the answers to the questions.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Jonah said sincerely.

“Thank you,” Judge Kendall said. There was something flat about the man’s eyes. Empty. Or was it cold?

“Well, it was so nice to meet you both,” I said, reaching for Jonah’s hand. “But we have a trail to run, don’t we, Jonah?” I gave his hand a crushing squeeze.

“Uh. Sure. Have a nice day,” Jonah said as I dragged him down the sidewalk.

“What was that about?” he asked.

“If that situation got any more uncomfortable, it would permanently damage our psyches,” I whispered, sparing a glance over my shoulder. Judge Kendall was standing in the same spot watching us. A shiver worked its way up my spine. I tossed a friendly wave in his direction.

“Their daughter went missing over a decade ago from this town. And they have to share their vacations with the family of the prime suspect,” he said, steering me in the direction of his car. “I think some slack has been earned.”