Page 117 of Whiskey Chase
I laughed breathlessly. “That’s not a good idea.”
“Right. My parents might catch us,” he said casting a glance in the diner window. Half of the customers had their noses pressed up against the plate glass window.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake! Sit down and eat your breakfasts,” I hollered.
Mona Lisa McNugget, Bootleg’s official mascot chicken, strutted past pecking her little beak at the piece of toast Moonshine staff left for her every morning.
“I’m going to miss this place,” Devlin said, waving to Mrs. Morganson through the window.
“Look at us bein’ all civilized about this,” I said. “You must have rubbed off on me.”
Devlin threaded his fingers through my ponytail. “I think the rubbing was mutual.”
“I sure hope so,” I breathed. He was put back together. That was for sure. Gone was the shadowed, anxious man who’d arrived in Bootleg. In his place was a strong, smart, capable man who had better not take shit from anyone or else I’d have to track him down and give him another lesson.
“Dev, promise me you won’t get back with Johanna,” I said. “I know it’s not fair to try to dictate who you date and don’t date. But she’s no good for you. You can do better.”
“I’ve already done better, Scarlett.”
47
Scarlett
“If you have no further questions for my clients, we’ll leave you to do your jobs.” Jayme, our surprise lawyer, was a shark in a sleek pantsuit and sky-high heels. She’d nearly tackled me and my brothers on our way into the police station, claiming to be our representation. Jayme had already been briefed on our situation and claimed that a friend had called in a favor. I assumed it was Sheriff Tucker worried about us Bodines. Old habits were hard to break.
Sheriff Tucker exchanged a long look with the homicide detective who’d driven in to stick his nose into the case. Detective Connelly wore his years of experience in the deep lines of his face. “We’ll do our best to keep your clients’ names out of this mess,” Sheriff Tucker promised. “But with forensics going over their daddy’s house, it’s only a matter of time before every busybody in the tri-county area knows.”
Gibson shifted in his chair, no happier about a team of investigators ripping through our childhood home than I was.
“We appreciate every effort you make to ensure my clients’ privacy.” Jayme said, cool as the cucumber eye masks at Bootleg Springs Spa.
I took my cue from her and stood up while she packed her briefcase. “Gentlemen,” I said, nodding at the sheriff I’d known my entire life. His mustache twitched. And I knew this was as hard on him as it was on us.
Cassidy was pacing outside the door and grabbed me by the tank top straps. “You were in there for fucking ever!”
“Excuse me, deputy. My clients and I were just leaving.” Jayme hauled me out of Cassidy’s grip and through the back door of the station where our lawyer had ordered Gibson to park in the alley. “We’re having a meeting,” she announced. “Where can we go?”
“We can go to my house,” I sighed.
“I’ll follow you.” Jayme slid behind the wheel of a sexy little crossover vehicle.
I climbed in the backseat behind Bowie.
“Well, that was fun,” Jameson drawled.
“We did the right thing,” Bowie said. “Callie’s father has a right to know, and who knows? Maybe they’ll turn up evidence that leads them to the real killer.”
Gibson’s eyes found mine in the rearview mirror. Neither one of us said anything. It was a tentative truce.
“I can’t believe you went to Cassidy behind my back,” I said, slapping Bowie’s head from behind.
“Ow! What are you talking about? She saidyouwent toher.”
I leaned around the seat and grabbed my brother in a chokehold. “Are you sayin’ you didn’t tell her?” I demanded, applying just enough pressure to make him uncomfortable.
“Gibs, I’m gonna kill you for teachin’ her this one,” Bowie gasped.
“Swear it, Bow! Swear you didn’t tell Cassidy,” I growled.
