Gin Fling (Bootleg Springs, #5)(73)

Dutifully, June performed a search with one hand while scratching Katherine’s head with the other.

“Died on Thursday crossing Miller Avenue sometime after midnight,” she read. “Struck by an unknown vehicle. There were no witnesses and no suspects.”

“That’s convenient,” I muttered.

Odds were, it was a legitimate accident. A drunk driver fleeing the scene. A kid joyriding in stolen wheels. Abbie’s death most likely was not suspicious. And yet it nagged at me.

Loose ends.

“Thursday,” I said, opening a bottle of water and taking a long drink. I wished it were Mountain Dew. “Saturday is when they found that the dental records were a match.”

“Are you suggesting that those events are connected?” June asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t see a connection, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel and thought.

“Abbie Gilbert had a court date for the fraud complaint brought by the Kendalls. But essentially, she was no longer part of the story. Abbie was unveiled as an opportunist, and now Callie is deceased. The missing person portion of the case is closed. Unless Abbie was the one who committed the homicide, I fail to see her connection,” June said.

I didn’t have an inkling either.

“Maybe someone was worried that the press would come asking more questions once the remains were identified. Like how did Abbie convince the Kendalls that she was Callie? Wouldn’t someone be wondering how she fooled them?”

“Perhaps. But why wait until now? Why not run her down with a vehicle immediately after discovering she committed fraud? And are you insinuating that you believe the Kendalls have some responsibility in Callie’s death?”

“I’m not insinuating anything,” I promised. “I’m just not positive that one of them didn’t have something to do with her death.”

The sun did little to warm the chill developing in my body as I steered onto the highway and headed southwest. It was too convenient, Abbie’s death. The one person who could answer questions about exactly why the Kendalls accepted her as Callie was gone. And I certainly wasn’t about to walk up to Judge Kendall and demand an explanation.

“Let’s walk through this. What if the Kendalls knew she wasn’t Callie?” I said.

“That theory makes no sense. Why would they publicly perpetuate the myth that their daughter had been found?”

I bit my lip, considering. I remembered those cool gray eyes and shivered. “Judge Kendall is up for appointment to a federal judgeship,” I said. “A big deal, right?”

“It is a prestigious position,” June agreed.

“A lot of power, prestige. He wouldn’t want to jeopardize that. Right? He wouldn’t want anything from his past coming to light that would cast doubt on his character.”

“Investigators always look at the family first. It’s standard procedure,” she reminded me. “Judge Kendall was never named as a suspect or a person of interest.”

Could anyone cover their tracks that well?

“Your expression suggests you are angry,” she said.

“This is my thinking face,” I explained.

“Where are we going now?” she asked.

“North Bethesda,” I told her. “There’s another person who might have some insight into the Kendalls’ relationship with their daughter.”

“What makes you think there was an issue in the relationship?" June asked, fishing in the bag at her feet and pulling out the other half of her turkey sandwich.

“I can't explain it. It’s just a hunch, a feeling in my gut. I’ve met a lot of families, a lot of dysfunctional families, and the Kendalls are ringing that bell for me.”

“I do not hear a bell,” she said.

I smiled. I loved the literal mind of June Tucker. “You’re a fact girl, aren’t you, June?"

“I rely heavily on facts,” she agreed as she chewed a bite of sandwich.

“As a researcher, I too have to rely on facts. But in my line of work, it was essential to develop instincts as well. And my instincts are telling me that there’s something off about this entire situation.”

“But nothing you discover will change the fact that Callie is dead.”

June had me there.

“If I can find information that will give the Bodines any hope at all that their father was not involved in Callie Kendall’s murder, I intend to do it.”

“That makes sense. It’s our duty as friends to ease their suffering.”

“Then let’s find some answers for them.”

“Perhaps your instincts are rooted in fact,” she suggested. “I was certain there was something false about Abbie Gilbert’s story but was unsure what the falsehood was until I did my research.”

“Then let’s do a little research in Bethesda,” I said.

“What is in Bethesda?”

“The junior high music teacher who reported signs of suspected child abuse involving Callie Kendall in 1998.”

June frowned. “My research did not uncover any such report,” she said.

“It was sealed and recanted,” I explained. “It took some digging, and the case file is basically empty. The only thing that exists is the date, the accuser’s first and last name, and her written retraction.” I really owed Leah Mae for her social media research skills.