Page 13 of Whiskey Chase
“Callie’s family summered here. Her parents still do. Callie went missing right here in Bootleg twelve years ago this summer.”
“As in kidnapped? Murdered?”
Scarlett slapped a hand over my mouth and glanced over her shoulder. “You hush now unless you want to get in an hour-long debate on all the conspiracy theories Bootleggers have.”
We got back in her truck. And I noticed the marked difference between arriving at the diner and leaving it. I felt steadier. More connected. Interested. Just listening to Scarlett was like a lifeline to the living.
She had so much energy. It was hard to remain numb around her. Despite the fact that her father had died a week ago, she was the one comforting me.
“So, what happened to Callie?” I was curious about the story, but if I were to be honest, I just wanted Scarlett to keep talking.
“Well, no one knows for sure. It was just another summer day. We were at the lake until dark. Everyone scattered to go home for supper. She never made it. Somewhere between the lake and the springs, she vanished.” Scarlett pulled onto the street and circled the block. Tidy brick buildings with colorful store fronts and funny names on their signs lined the street.
“You knew her?” I asked.
“Sure. She was two years older than me, and I wanted to be just like her. She was always so smart and fun. Always had cool clothes. And I was just… well, me.”
I had a feeling no one else on the planet would think of Scarlett in those terms at any point in her life. “Just me” didn’t do her justice.
“And no one ever found her? Were there any suspects?”
Scarlett shrugged. “The local cops talked to just about every adult in town about their whereabouts and whatnot. Callie’s parents came forward and said that she suffered from some depression, some mental issues. I think they believed she’d up and run off or…”
Scarlett wrinkled her nose and stared through the windshield.
“Suicide,” I filled in for her.
“Yeah.”
“What do you think?”
Scarlett laughed. “Everyone’s got their theories. There’s the ‘murdered by a drifter’ theory. Then there’s the ‘ran off with a boy’ theorists. Some think it was politically motivated. Her daddy’s a judge, so some people think one of his rivals took her. Mostly everyone else agrees with her parents.”
“But you don’t?” I guessed.
Scarlett shook her head. “It may be a little hero worship coloring my memories, but Callie was a steady kind of person. Empathetic, thoughtful. She wasn’t the type to just pick up and leave. I never saw any signs of mental shenanigans. Maybe some anxiety, a little fear. But nothing that was a red flag for me.”
“Do you think she’s dead?”
Scarlett chewed on her bottom lip. “I don’t want to believe that. I’d like to think that she ran away to join the circus or make movies or something. But it’s been so long with no word. I don’t know what other answer there is.”
“Twelve years, and you still have the posters hanging up,” I observed.
Scarlett shot me a grin. “We have trouble lettin’ go of the past around here. Besides, we want Callie’s parents to know she was never forgotten. They may only summer here, but that doesn’t mean they’re not part of the Bootleg family.”
“Loyalty or an inability to move on?” I asked.
“Little bit of both. The fact is she was just a good girl from a good family who disappeared. And if I think too long about the fact that I’ll never know the answer, I go crazy and start coming up with harebrained explanations. I don’t know if Callie is alive out there or not. But I like to imagine her alive and well and having a real good time.”
“What do your brothers think happened to her?”
“Gibson thinks she was murdered and dumped in the lake, but he’s a Suzy Sunshine like that. I don’t know about Bowie and Jame. Bowie always wants to believe the best in people, and no one ever knows what Jameson’s thinking.”
“I bet people usually know what you’re thinking,” I teased.
“I don’t see much point in sittin’ around keepin’ my mouth shut. Life’s too short.” She clammed up immediately as if the reminder was directed at herself. Her father’s life had been too short.
I reached across the console and squeezed her arm. Her frame was so small that it was still a surprise to me. It seemed like such a personality would need a bigger container. “Thanks for everything today, Scarlett.”
