Page 115 of Whiskey Chase
That wouldn’t last long. It would be good if I could get my parents out of Bootleg before the news broke.
I was on edge. I wanted to be with Scarlett right now, making sure the Bodines were as removed from the situation as legally possible. Hell, I just wanted to be with Scarlett. She was probably terrified... or pissed off. And I hated the fact that she hadn’t called.
Clarabell delivered our orders with a flourish. “Are y’all spendin’ the weekend?” she asked.
“Oh, lord no,” my mother laughed. “We’re all leaving for home today.”
Clarabell’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “Is that so?” she asked, topping off my father’s coffee. She telegraphed a look to me that asked if Scarlett was aware of this news.
“I’m not sure when I’m leaving,” I amended, not wanting the grapevine to get to Scarlett before I did. I wasn’t leaving if I could help her. If she needed me.
“Don’t be silly. Devlin is very busy as a state legislator,” Mom bragged to Clarabell.
“He’s certainly kept busy this summer,” she said. I caught the veiled criticism loud and clear. “Do y’all know Judge Kendall?” she asked, swinging her coffee pot in the direction of an older gentleman in the corner who looked like he was dressed for a tennis match. “He’s a district court judge.”
My father looked interested. He lived for networking, collecting connections like some did stamps or shot glasses. “I believe we’ve crossed paths in Annapolis.” I gave it thirty seconds before he decided to wander over to introduce himself.
If Judge Kendall was enjoying a diner breakfast, he hadn’t been notified of a break in his daughter’s case. It was only a matter of time.
“Well, give us a holler if you need anythin’,” Clarabell said and bustled away. I winced when I saw her fish her cell phone out of her apron pocket.
“It’s like they’re speaking a different language here,” Mom whispered.
“Come on, son,” Dad wiped his mouth on his napkin. “Let’s go introduce ourselves to the judge.”
“Dad, let him eat,” I said. “His wife just died, and his daughter went missing here—”
“That’s why he sounds so familiar,” my mom gasped. “His daughter was kidnapped or murdered or something. That happenedhere?” She looked around the diner as if expecting to see the guilty party plopped down at the table next to us.
Allowing the man to enjoy a peaceful last breakfast before discovering new evidence had been uncovered in his daughter’s disappearance was reason enough to leave him alone.
“Come on, Devlin. He won’t mind,” my father insisted.
I suppose it was morbid curiosity that had me following my father to the man’s table. I saw his immediate future, and it would be a painful one after what I could only assume was a painful past.
He had thinning gray hair that he combed neatly over his head. He wore wire rimmed spectacles and a white polo shirt. His watch was expensive. His breakfast was sensible.
“Excuse me, Judge Kendall?” my father said, interjecting himself into the man’s breakfast.
“Yes?” He looked up with a hint of resignation as if he was used to being interrupted. The honorable judge, tired of his people. I wanted to leave him alone, leave him to the last peaceful breakfast he’d have for a long time.
“I wanted to stop by and say hello. I’m Thomas McCallister, and this is my son, Devlin. We met a few years ago at a gala for the Maryland State Historical Society.” My father’s mind was a meticulously organized filing cabinet of people, events, and connections.
“Ah, of course.” The judge warmed slightly, slipping smoothly into political mode. Only other insiders would notice the lack of sincerity in the man’s polite smile. He offered his hand to my father, and they shook. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Devlin is in the state legislature,” my father explained. They were making small talk, discussing mutual friends, when the bells on the diner door chimed and Scarlett strolled in. She was wearing ripped up cutoffs and one of those damned tank tops that hugged her curves. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail. She looked every inch the beautiful girl next door.
Our gazes met, and I saw a dozen emotions flit across her face. When her eyes scanned to my father and then Judge Kendall, she froze.
46
Scarlett
Of all the shit things to happen on a shit day, I had to get a text from Clarabell saying she was sorry to hear Devlin was leaving town. And then I had to walk on into Moonshine and see Devlin making small talk with Callie’s daddy. The man who was about to find out that my father was a person of interest in his daughter’s missing person case.
I swallowed hard, and Devlin crossed the black and white tile floor to me.
“Hey,” he said softly.
