Gin Fling (Bootleg Springs, #5)(61)
“You mean, you’re going to open your big, fat mouth and tell everyone in town that I’m dating Shelby,” I corrected her.
“Dating, huh? I can get behind that.”
“Even if it’s none of your business.”
“Why, Jonah Bodine. You’re my brother. Your happiness is my business.”
“Just don’t start any wedding plans, Scar. Shelby doesn’t plan to stick around past the end of summer.”
“What about you?” she asked. “And before you even think about answering, you better not be considering leaving. Why, I brought your mama all the way out here to make her fall in love with this town.”
“You’re a diabolical puppet master, Scarlett Rose.”
She beamed up at me. “If it’s a crime to want my family to be happy and all together, then put me on death row.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I found my happily ever after,” she said, eyes flying to where Devlin and Jameson were deep in discussion. “Jameson and Leah Mae, Bowie and Cassidy, they found theirs, too. You can have a good life here.”
I nodded. “I know it. But I’m just not one thousand percent sure yet.”
“Well, you’ll have more incentive once I get your mama married off and moved in here,” she predicted.
*
As darkness fell, I noticed Bowie sneak off toward the shadows to take a phone call. I could see the tension in his shoulders, and something told me it wasn’t good news.
I excused myself from the table where James and Darlene were recounting one of their recent home renovation horror stories to Scarlett, who insisted that the next time they needed some plumbing done they call her first.
Bowie was standing there staring down at his phone when I got to him.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He looked, up and I knew.
“Fuck,” I said quietly.
“It was Jayme. Dental records were a match. It’s Callie.”
Behind us, laughter erupted as Gibson and Jameson vied to tell my mom about their attempt at ice fishing when they were kids.
“This doesn’t change anything,” I said, knowing full well that it changed everything. Callie Kendall was dead. And so were the hopes of an entire community.
“It doesn’t mean that Dad did it,” Bowie said, sounding even less confident than me.
“No. It doesn’t.”
“Jayme says they’re keeping the news under wraps for a few days.”
I watched my mom dab tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes with a napkin. Now, Scarlett was slow dancing with Devlin, looking up at him like he was the sun and the moon and everything in between.
Shelby was leaning into her father’s arm, laughing at some story he was telling June.
“Let’s not ruin this,” I said. “Everyone’s having a good time. I’d rather keep it that way for another night.” It was selfish. But there wasn’t anything any of us could do about poor Callie Kendall. And this was my first family birthday party ever.
Bowie squeezed my shoulder. “Happy birthday, brother.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
33
All of Bootleg Springs
“Did y’all hear the news?”
“’Course we heard already. Such a shame. I always thought that that Callie girl was traveling in Canada with one of them there acrobatic acts.”
“I always figured she was dead. May she rest in peace, of course.”
“Why’s that?”
“She ain’t never come back, did she?”
“How you think the Kendalls are handling the news?”
“Doesn’t seem like it’s a surprise to them.”
“They always figured she was dead and gone. Seemed right sure of it.”
“I heard they was planning the funeral. Private. Don’t want a buncha looky-loos pokin’ their noses around the church and cemetery.”
“What about the Bodines?”
“What about ’em?”
“Does this mean Jonah Sr.—may he rest in peace—killed her?”
“Hell if I know. With him dead and gone—rest in peace—I figure we’ll never know what happened to that poor girl.”
“I reckon Jonah Sr. did it. Who else would have?”
“What about that no-account Lester McCoy from over yonder in Hollersville? That sumbitch would put a rattlesnake in your pocket and ask for a light.”
“You know, my Millie was a year younger than that Callie. I didn’t let her leave my side for a year after that girl up and got herself killed.”
“Everyone was huggin’ their kids extra tight after that.”
“And to think she’s been dead this whole time. I hoped she’d gone off to Hollywood and got herself a star on that Walk of Fame.”
“You know they pay for those, doncha?”
“The hell you say!”
“It’s the God’s honest truth. I was watching Under the Red Carpet, and they said how’s the celebrity gets themselves nominated and then coughs up $30,000. Wham bam. Presto. They got their own star.”