Page 138 of Moonshine Kiss
“You’re doing real good, honey,” I told her.
“Thanks. I’m sorry for setting us up to fail. For being too scared to get hurt to trust you fully.”
“You’re forgiven.”
She looked up at me and scowled. “You can’t forgive me yet. I’m not done apologizing.”
“My apologies. Please continue.”
“I’m sorry for not trusting you and then dragging you into a personally damaging situation without realizing how it would hurt you.”
“That’s real nice, Cass.”
“Thanks! Juney helped me with it a little.”
Clay Larkin, Leah Mae’s daddy, spotted us and made a beeline for Cassidy.
“Cassidy Tucker, I heard about what you did for Baby Melly. Brace yourself because you’re about to get hugged.”
I grabbed her coffee just before Clay lifted her six inches off the sidewalk. Three notecards slipped out of her grasp and floated to the ground. His fiancée, Betsy, clapped and wiped a stray tear from her cheek.
“Honey, you made us all real proud. Real proud,” Betsy said when Clay returned Cassidy to the sidewalk. She leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “And y’all are the sweetest couple. We’re so happy for you.”
Cassidy turned a pretty shade of pink. “Thanks. Uh. Thank you.”
Betsy looked at me and surreptitiously tapped her watch. I nodded.
“C’mon, Cass. We’ve got places to be.”
“We do?” she asked. I handed her coffee back and slipped an arm around her shoulders.
“Hang on. I’ve got more to say.” She peered down at her cards and cleared her throat. “For not banging on Gibson’s door and demanding you tell me the truth all those years ago. Huh. I think my cards got shuffled.”
“Still sounds real good,” I told her. She was so busy looking at her notes, she didn’t notice the crowd forming around the police station’s front door.
“I also owe you an apology for agreeing to be in a temporary, secret relationship with you because—what the hell is going on?”
At that moment a minivan blazed up the street and squealed to a stop in front of the station. The passenger doors opened, and the elderly of Bootleg Springs started pouring out onto the sidewalk. Walkers and oxygen tanks were handed out to their owners. Behind the wheel, Estelle slipped her driving gloves off and gave me a flirty wave.
“Uh, Bowie? What’s going on?”
“You had your apology. I’ve got mine.”
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Bowie
Awoman significantly younger than the rest of the minivan’s occupants disembarked looking a little shell-shocked. She wore a wool coat over a simple black pantsuit. No nonsense, professional.
“Right this way, lieutenant,” Granny Louisa said, opening the police station door with a grand flourish.
“Lieutenant?” Cassidy hissed. “You kidnapped a state trooper?” She looked a little pale.
“We did no such felonizing,” Gram-Gram snorted. “Shewantedto come with us.”
“Scout’s honor,” Estelle said, making an x over her heart.
“Come on,” I told her and led her into the station at the end of the elderly parade. The rest of the crowd slowly filed in.
