Page 35 of Moonshine Kiss
“Uh, sure. Yeah.” I bobbed my head like one of those weird drinking bird toys. I liked being mad at Bowie better. The feelings were easier to manage, and I didn’t have to worry about, you know,talkingto him.
“So, who got asked the dumbest question today?” Leah Mae asked cheerfully.
There was a collective groan.
“One of those jackwagons caught me at the Pop In and asked me if I thought it was my daddy or my brothers who murdered Callie Kendall. Then they started in on poor Opal on account of her last name,” Scarlett said.
“They caught us outside Leah Mae’s storefront,” Jameson said. Leah Mae had changed gears from model to shopkeeper. She was hoping to open a fashion boutique sometime in the spring with a little help from my sister the investor. At least she would if June would stop haggling the building owner to death over rent and utilities.
“Yeah, they wanted to know if I was marrying into a family of homicidal maniacs and if so, would there be a reality show?” Leah Mae chimed in.
“I had six reporters and photographers show up for the trail run this morning,” Jonah complained. He cracked a grin. “Too bad it was such a fast crew. Some of ‘em are probably still trying to find their way out of the woods.”
I snorted in appreciation.
“They say anything about your name?” Bowie asked.
“Just wanted to know if homicidal tendencies were genetic.”
“What a bunch of dumbasses,” Scarlett said succinctly.
We all grunted in general agreement.
“Cassidy got to play hero this morning,” Bowie told everyone. He recounted the morning’s driveway incident, and I was given an enthusiastic round of applause by all present.
“I get the feeling news organizations aren’t really sending their best people,” Jameson said. “These folks seem like they’re a special kind of stupid.”
Devlin cleared his throat. “I had a few calls and messages today from some contacts back in Annapolis and D.C. If this story gets any bigger we might be facing more than a few dozen dumbasses,” he warned.
“Good Lord,” I muttered. “What about you, Gibson?” I asked him.
All eyes turned to him and he glanced up from his plate.
He shrugged. “You’d be surprised at how many people leave you alone when you hang a couple of rifles in the back window of your pickup,” he deadpanned.
The Bodines thought that was hilarious.
I, however, had the sinking feeling that I’d be arresting one of them before this whole mess was over.
No longer hungry, I leaned back against the couch and found Bowie’s arm resting there. He didn’t move and neither did I. I thought about my cats.
“Enough about this mess,” Scarlett said, sliding onto Devlin’s lap. She had a piece of gauze poking out of the sleeve of her flannel shirt. “Did y’all hear that Bowie and Cassidy showed up dressed all fancy at The Lookout and shared a slow dance?”
“Ooooooh!” the crowd collectively cooed.
“Very funny.” I threw the heel of my bread in Scarlett’s direction. “Why are you bandaged up?” I asked, trying to change the subject.
“Kitten Jedediah was just having some fun. Anyway, as I was sayin’, some folks are calling for a recount on that Least Likely To poll. Y’all might have edged out Reverend Duane and Misty Lynn,” she said with a wink.
Bowie’s fingers brushed my shoulder. Back and forth in a steady, soothing kind of motion. The effects of the touch were anything but soothing. Secret touches from Bowie Bodine? Had I accidentally ripped a hole in time and space, taking me back to my high school yearnings?
Cats. I was a mother to cats.I needed to remember that. I had given up. I was committed to life as a single cat lady.
“All right. Enough with the bullshitting,” Gibson said. “Let’s get down to why we’re really here. We need to make sure we’re on the same page with this investigation shitstorm.”
“Party pooper,” Scarlett hissed in his direction.
Bowie tensed next to me. His fingers stopped their gentle strokes. “No offense, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for Cassidy to be here.”
