Page 131 of Bourbon Bliss
“Agreed,” Bowie said. “We’re all involved, now.”
Cassidy crossed her arms, her expression serious. Her Deputy Tucker face. “For now, none of this leaves this room. We clear?”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“Okay, here’s where we are. Callie is still missing. We all know Jonah Sr. had her cardigan. DNA evidence shows it was her blood on it. We also know her fingerprints were in Connie’s car. Abbie Gilbert’s story of Jonah giving her a ride out of town seemed to explain all that. But of course, none of it was true. So we still don’t know why they had the sweater, or why her fingerprints were in the car.”
Everyone shifted uncomfortably.
“Y’all, it gets worse.” Cassidy took a deep breath. “The remains of a teenage girl were found in upstate New York a week ago. It used to be a rural area, but now it’s a construction site. New houses going in. One of the crews came across a body.”
“Oh god,” someone muttered. I wasn’t sure who.
“The remains are a partial skeleton. There’s not enough to get a DNA sample or dental records for a positive identification. But they were able to determine it’s been out there for twelve or thirteen years. Gender and approximate age are a match for Callie. And it was found about twenty miles from where Jonah Sr. got that speeding ticket. We got the call shortly after we reopened Callie’s case. It’s a close enough match, they alerted us.”
Gibson’s face reddened and he clenched his fists. Bowie scrubbed his hands up and down his face. Jonah rubbed the back of his neck—a gesture I remembered his father engaging in. Leah Mae reached over and rubbed Jameson’s leg. He looked a bit green. Scarlett’s eyes glistened with tears and Devlin stood to put his arm around her.
“God, I just…” Scarlett said, her voice uncharacteristically shaky. “I thought Callie was alive, and now…”
“Jesus,” Bowie muttered.
Gibson stared at the floor, his jaw tight. I wondered if he was about to lose his temper, but he remained still.
“So that’s it, then,” Jameson said. “Dad must have—”
“The evidence isn’t conclusive,” I said, interrupting him.
“It’s pretty fucking conclusive, Juney,” Gibson said.
“Until there’s a positive identification of the remains in question—”
“He took her out there and dumped her fucking body,” Gibson said. His voice was thick with anger, his ice-blue eyes like cold steel.
I shrank back against George.
“Easy, Gibs,” George said.
“Fuck this.” Gibson stood, pushed his way past Jonah, and marched out the door, slamming it behind him.
Everyone shifted in the uncomfortable silence, the sound of the slamming door echoing through the room. Or maybe it just echoed in my head.
“Why does he always have to make things worse?” Scarlett muttered.
“I’ll give him time to cool off, then go talk to him,” Jameson said.
Scarlett gave him a weak smile. “Thanks, Jame.”
“Y’all, I’m so sorry about all this,” Cassidy said. “I wish the news was different. It was such a relief when we thought she was alive and your dad’s role in it was explained.”
“It’s not your fault.” Bowie stepped in next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. “We need answers, Cass. We need to find out what really happened, for better or worse, so we can all move on.”
“There’s one more thing,” Cassidy said. “Y’all know Bowie and I found your mom’s old GPS. It had the location she’d been to on the day she died—the Four Seasons Hotel in Baltimore.”
“Why would she have gone out there?” Jameson asked.
“I didn’t think it meant anything at first,” Cassidy said. “With the Callie mystery supposedly solved, I didn’t think there was any connection between your mom’s accident and Callie’s case. But after June told me the woman was an impostor, I got to thinking. I did some research and there was a charity event that day at the Four Seasons. I’m sure Connie had a good heart, but I don’t recall her attending a lot of fancy charity luncheons in the city.”
“No,” Bowie said.
