Page 44 of Moonshine Kiss
We had rules.
“You know I have to tell my dad about this,” I told him.
“No, you don’t,” Bowie countered. He pointed up to where my mom was sitting. “That’s on her. Not you.”
I opened my mouth and then closed it again. He may have a point.
“Look, if it’s bothering you, I can tell you that nothing real illegal has ever come out of any of these meetings,” he told me.
“Define ‘real illegal.’”
“I’d prefer not to.” He winked at me.
“Imma tell that shithead in the corduroy pants that I have evidence that Big Foot took Callie Kendall,” Wade Zirkel called out, catching my attention.
I snorted. I couldn’t help it. The idea of Wade Zirkel strutting up toThe Charlottesburg Postclaiming a sasquatch had carried off Callie was laughable.
“Hang on, y’all. We gotta be careful and make sure that definitely we’re spreading bad info,” Sonny Fullson, the shaggy-haired owner of Build a Shine—Bootleg’s answer to the popular Build A Bear chain—said, coming to his feet.
“Are you saying you think it’s possible that Harry fromHarry and the Hendersonswalked on into Bootleg and carried a girl off?” the mayor asked, appalled.
Sonny shook his head. “No, sir. I’m asking whether we’re leading them to or away from Jonah Bodine, Sr.? May he rest in peace.”
It was Bowie’s turn to scowl. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked like he wanted to hit Sonny with Mayor Hornsbladt’s hammer.
“My daddy, may he rest in peace, did not have anything to do with Callie Kendall’s disappearance,” Scarlett said, climbing up on her bench and glaring daggers at the crowd.
“How’d he end up with her bloody sweater then? May he rest in peace,” someone yelled.
I slapped my hand on Bowie’s leg when I felt him tense next to me. He was coiled to strike.
“Easy, tiger,” I said quietly.
“Y’all know she’s not dead. She ran off with some guy.”
“If she were still alive why ain’t no one heard from her since?”
“She’s definitely dead.”
“But do we know that Jonah Bodine did it? I mean, the man was a drunk, but does that mean he’s a murderer? May he rest in peace.”
Devlin plucked Scarlett off the bench and motioned for the mayor’s microphone. “I think it’s important that everyone understands that this plan can only move forward if it doesn’t interfere with the ongoing police investigation.”
Finally. A voice of reason.
Bowie was still vibrating with pissed-offness next to me.
“We can come up with a solution that doesn’t require us to try Jonah Bodine, Sr.—uh, may he rest in peace—in the court of popular opinion,” Devlin answered.
“Huh?” someone grunted nearby.
Devlin straightened his tie. “What I’m saying is let’s come up with a story or stories that won’t derail the police investigation. It’s their job to find out who did what. So let’s make it our job to get these loafer-wearing, name-calling vultures out of our town.”
It started as a slow clap and built until people were stomping their boots and whistling through their fingers. Devlin McCallister didn’t know it, but he’d just given his first campaign speech.
At least I could count on him to keep things as legal as possible.
Now was a good time to leave, before I learned anything that definitely had to end up on my dad’s desk. “Looks like you all have things under control around here. I’m gonna get back to town and make sure no one else is undermining the legal community’s authority.”
