Page 59 of Highball Rush
Besides, Callie’s life wasn’t one that involved things like sweet little one-eyed dogs with stocky legs and happy tails. She traveled too much. Didn’t even have a real home.
I wasn’t sure why, but thinking about that made me sad.
Shrugging off another rush of stupid feelings, I paid for my purchases and hauled them out to my truck. For a guy who’d always insisted on solitude, I sure was setting up to share my space these days.
“How’s it going?” a voice behind me said.
I shut the passenger’s side door and glanced over my shoulder. A guy in a dark shirt and slacks stood a few feet away. Looked older than me. Maybe in his later forties. Had a crooked nose.
“You need something?” I asked, my voice low.
“Nice town,” he said. “You’re Gibson Bodine, aren’t you?”
Great, this again. Now they were coming to town to bug me? It was bad enough when it was just phone calls. “If you’re another record company asshole, I’m not interested. Save us both some time and move on.”
“I don’t work for a record company.”
Something in his voice rubbed me wrong, my instincts flaring to life. He looked nondescript. Just a regular guy in street clothes. But he had that look some men had—danger in his eyes.
“Then what are you doing here?”
“Like I said, this is a nice town.” He put his hands in his pockets, but his body language was anything but casual. “Interesting history.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve been to a lot of small towns and you know what they all have in common?”
“What?”
“They can’t let things go,” he said. “They tell the same stories, over and over. You ever notice that? The old-timers sit in their rocking chairs telling tales. Same stuff they’ve been talking about for years. Same gossip passed around.”
“Do you have a point, or you just making conversation?” I asked. “Because I don’t like conversation.”
“The other thing about small towns is that people talk,” he said, ignoring my comment. “Everybody knows everybody’s business. Isn’t that right?”
“I guess.”
“Have a good chat with the sheriff?” he asked.
Oh, fuck. Was this about Callie? Did someone know she was here? Or was this just about the fact that I’d been questioned? “Who the fuck are you and why are you asking me shit?”
“Like I said, people talk. And this town seems to have a problem letting things go.”
“Yeah, they talk,” I said. “Even when there ain’t shit to talk about.”
“I don’t know about that,” he said. “Are they questioning everyone who lived here thirteen years ago, or are you special?”
I hesitated for a beat, not quite sure how to answer. “It was a misunderstanding.”
“Was it?” he asked, looking oddly thoughtful. “I guess if you’d dropped a new piece of evidence in the biggest case in your town’s history, everyone would know about it.”
“So?”
“You knew her?” he asked. “The girl who disappeared?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. I did not like him talking about her. “It was a long time ago.”
“Damn shame.” He shook his head. “A girl just up and disappears like that without a trace. Makes you wonder what kind of world we live in, doesn’t it?”
