Gin Fling (Bootleg Springs, #5)(71)

We dined al fresco to live music. And I filled her in on the latest in my mother’s relationship.

“It sounds serious,” she mused, over her glass of champagne.

“It’s just a fling,” I predicted. “My mom isn’t going to uproot her entire life to take a chance on love in Bootleg Springs.”

“In that case, to summer flings,” she said, raising her glass to mine.

“To summer flings,” I echoed.

Later that night, I tipped the teenage musicians twenty bucks each and then guided Shelby upstairs. And when I settled over her, into her, with the flavor of champagne between us, I wondered again if there was more to this. To us. Than just one summer.





*



Q. In what ways do you interact with your neighbors outside of societal norms?



Walter Nagley: I play the violin on their front porches while they’re on a date. Thanks for the $20.





39





Shelby





“Next time you need a favor, can you please make it an easy one that actually pays off in the end?” Amanda huffed into my ear. It was a hot July morning. The park was still decked out from last week’s holiday festivities, the breathtaking engagement ring Jameson had slid on Leah Mae’s finger this weekend hadn’t lost its sparkle, and I was hustling my wayward puppy through a series of training exercises on our walk through town that he was all too happy to ignore.

“I promise you I’ll never ask for another favor again,” I said, untangling Billy Ray’s leash from my legs. Leash manners and walking etiquette were not his strong suit. He’d just gotten done wrapping me up with a cocker spaniel named Linda in the lakefront park when Amanda called.

“I’m afraid you might have wasted this one,” she said. I heard her bite into something crisp and crunchy. Lunchtime for most social workers happened on the fly.

“No cases?” I asked, disappointed but not surprised.

“There was one.”

I perked up and towed Billy Ray toward a park bench, wishing I had a notebook on me. Jonah and I were meeting up after his personal training session to swap dog parenting duties, so I hadn’t thought to bring anything with me besides a collapsible water dish for the puppy.

“You’re kidding me,” I said. I felt the interest hum to life inside me. New information. Something no one else had. It was a researcher’s fantasy.

“Unsubstantiated claim in Henrico County. It’s an old file, so it looks kind of like someone forgot to enter ninety percent of the information, including what the initial complaint was. Unfortunately, par for the course since the move was made to electronic records. And it was sealed.”

That explained why it had never made the news.

“Does it say who reported it?” I asked, drumming my fingers against my lips. The puppy sniffed after a butterfly and then lifted his leg on a pinecone.

“There’s a name but no title. I’ll send you the particulars. My contact copied me on it, so I’ll email you the file. Not much there. It was from back in ’98. Odds are it was an elementary teacher, maybe a school nurse or someone along those lines.”

“Thanks for the info, Amanda. I owe you big time.”

“I don’t know what you’re up to. But be careful,” she cautioned me.

I started dialing the second the call disconnected.

“Hello?”

“Hey, June. It’s Shelby.”

“I ascertained that fact from my caller ID,” she said.

“You tracked down the fake Callie, didn’t you?” I asked.

“Yes. Is that all? I’m occupied teaching Katherine to fetch.”

“How would you feel about taking a road trip with me today?”

“No, thank you. I prefer to stay here with my pig.”

“What if you could bring her along? I’ll bring Billy Ray.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’re tracking down two people who might have information about Callie Kendall,” I told her.

“I assume you mean information besides the fact that she is deceased?” she asked.

“Yes,” I promised. “I think we could find something that might point suspicion away from Jonah Bodine Sr.”

June sighed. “Fine. But I’ll want lunch. A turkey sandwich. Turkey Tuesday.”

Callie Kendall was dead. But there were still questions. And if I could get a few of them answered for Jonah and the rest of the Bodines, we’d all sleep better.





*



After another phone call, a handful of texts, and a stop at the Pop In for gas and provisions, I swung by June’s house. June hefted the haltered Katherine up and into the back seat. Katherine oinked a greeting at Billy Ray, who bravely licked her face and then cowered in the corner.

June was wearing a ball cap featuring the logo of GT’s team rivals. Beneath the brim was a pair of movie star-huge sunglasses.

“Did GT see that hat?” I asked.

She shook her head. “It’s part of my disguise. I borrowed it from Opal Bodine. If we’re tracking down the Fake Callie Kendall, I’ve ripped hair from this woman’s head. It would be safer for all of us if she did not recognize me.”