Page 106 of Moonshine Kiss
“How are we supposed to live with that?” I asked. How were we supposed to live with the unknown, accept that we’d never know everything we needed to? Hell, I’d become a cop because it was a job that demanded the truth be discovered.
He picked up the beer and pointed it toward the door where half a dozen people were laughing loud and long in the backyard. “Family. Friends. Food. We put one foot in front of the other and stay thankful for the answers we do have.”
The conversation was officially over. Though my feelings about it were anything but resolved.
It was ironic. One family in Bootleg Springs that desperately wanted to believe their daughter chose to leave. Another was comforted by believing their mother had been taken.
50
Bowie
Thomas and Geneva McCallister were wasted on pumpkin pie moonshine along with the better part of Bootleg Springs.
The Annual Bootleg Moonshine Tasting was in full swing in the town square. We had twenty-six bootleggers who had set up their folding tables on the sidewalk in front of the courthouse to peddle their doctored concoctions.
The Banjo Trio, made up of Mrs. Morganson, Mayor Hornsbladt, and Sheriff Tucker, were stirring things up with a rousing rendition of “Dear Ol’ Dixie” with guest star Gibson Bodine on guitar. People were alternately dancing and drinking, some both at the same time. The cold that had gripped us seemed to dissipate for the night. Though that might be due to the alcohol everyone was indulging in.
I was pacing myself, as always. Devlin was covering his laughter with a coughing fit as Thomas and Geneva treated Sierra Hayes’s Cinnamon Blueberry Shine like a high-end cabernet at a tasting. Except they should have been doing a lot more spitting.
Bootleggers trained all year for the Moonshine Tasting, and we all still felt like shit the next day. But it was worth it.
“What am I looking at?” Jonah asked, closing one eye and tilting his head. Health food junkies were notorious lightweights and succumbed quickly to the ‘shine.
“That would be the Bootleg Seniors table,” I explained. Gram-Gram, Devlin’s Granny Louisa, and her girlfriend Estelle, were manning a table lined with shots of dark purple liquid.
Jonah picked up a glass and sniffed.
“Mystery ‘Shine, sonny,” Granny Louisa said before returning her attention to her knitting.
“Smells like cough syrup,” Jonah frowned.
“It’s mostly just for the color,” Gram-Gram assured him. “This here’s medicinal moonshine.”
I winced as Jonah downed his grape flavored cough suppressant.
“This town is pretty great,” he said, picking up another sample off Wade Zirkel’s table.
“Maybe we better visit the pepperoni roll stand,” I suggested, leading my inebriated half-brother in the direction of the carbs he’d disapprove of in the morning. “You’re still doing that Black Friday boot camp at the high school right?”
“Shyeah. It’ll be awesome. Burn those calories,” he said, pumping his arms like he was running. “Am I going anywhere?”
“Uh. No. But eat this pepperoni roll. Otherwise you won’t get out of bed for your boot camp.”
Jonah obliged, shoving half of it in his mouth. “Umm. Carbs. They get a bad rap, you know?”
At least. That’s what I thought he said. His mouth was too full to be sure.
“Hey, where’s Cass-i-deee?” he sang.
I shoved another pepperoni roll in his mouth. “Keep it quiet on the Deputy Tucker questions,” I warned him. “We’re playing it cool. No one’s supposed to know that we’re dating. Remember?”
Jonah snorted. “Like you could keep a secret in this town.”
“We’re gonna try. That Detective Connelly doesn’t take kindly to Cassidy fraternizing with murder suspects’ families.”
“That’s bullshit. That’s sexist bullshit. Bet he’s not sayin’ that to Sheriff Tucker or Bubba,” Jonah pointed out.
“Moonshine makes you wise,” I quipped. Sexist bullshit or not, I didn’t want Cassidy to suffer for dating me. How would I get the girl to marry me if just fraternizing with me cost her the job she’d been dreaming about since she was fourteen?
