Page 77 of Highball Rush
“Yeah. Who’s asking?”
He held out a manila envelope. “This is for you.”
I took the envelope and watched him like a hawk while he got back into his car and turned around. Didn’t stop watching until he’d driven out of sight.
“That was weird,” Callie said.
“Yeah. It was.”
The envelope had my name on the outside, typed on a white label, but nothing else. I ripped it open and pulled out a thick bundle of paperwork.
“What is it?” Callie asked.
I skimmed the first page, my brow furrowing as I read.
“It’s a lawsuit,” I said. “A wrongful death suit in the case of Callie Kendall. Your parents are suing my family.”
24
MAYA
The tension in Bowie and Cassidy’s living room was thick as mud. One of their cats had disappeared at the first sign of company. The other—a fat orange guy—hadn’t moved from his spot, curled up on a pillow. Jameson stood against the wall with his arms crossed, staring down at the floor. Leah Mae sat on the arm of a chair next to him, casting worried glances his way. Jonah had an arm around Shelby, his muscles bulging, the veins in his arms standing out.
Cassidy sat on the couch next to Bowie, rubbing circles across his back. She had her laptop open in front of her. Bowie leaned forward, elbows on his knees, reading his copy of the lawsuit.
Gibson alternated between standing with crossed arms and pacing. His jaw clenched tight, making the cords in his neck pop, and his face was dark with anger.
He and I had read through the paperwork back at his place. His father’s estate was being sued, and he and his siblings were all named. There were parts of the legalese I didn’t understand, but the bottom line was clear. The Kendalls were suing Jonah Bodine’s estate and its heirs for my supposed death.
It hadn’t taken long for the phone calls to start flying. The other Bodines had all been served. Bowie had told everyone to meet at his place. We were just waiting on Scarlett.
She burst in the front door like a tiny whirlwind. “What in the actual fuck is happening right now? Can you believe this?”
Devlin was right behind her, and put calming hands on her shoulders. “It’s okay. No one needs to panic.”
“Don’t panic? Do you hear yourself? The stupid Kendalls are suing us for a death that ain’t even happened.”
“Can they do this?” Jameson asked.
“Legally speaking, yes,” Devlin said. “Now that they supposedly have a body, she’s no longer considered missing. She’s dead.”
“So they’re suing the estate?” Jonah asked. “Let’s forget for a second that Callie isn’t dead. They can’t have enough proof to implicate him.”
“Do they know something we don’t?” Shelby asked.
“Not necessarily,” Devlin said. “This isn’t my specialty, but I read over the Complaint. It alleges that Jonah Sr. aided Callie’s disappearance and either failed to prevent or was complicit in her death. The burden of proof in a civil suit like this isn’t the same as a criminal trial. They don’t have to prove he did it to win.”
“And think about it,” Bowie said, ticking points off on his fingers. “There’s the sweater. Callie’s fingerprints in Mom’s car. Dad’s speeding ticket in New York putting him near the location of that body.”
“And they aren’t alleging he killed her,” Devlin said. “Which means they don’t have to prove that he did. Essentially, they’re alleging he helped her run away, and as a result of that, she died, putting him at fault.”
“It fits with their story that she had mental issues,” Cassidy said, then glanced at me. “Sorry, I don’t mean to talk like you aren’t here. My point is, they’ve always claimed you were depressed and unstable. Adding that you were a runaway means they don’t have to change their story. It all sounds plausible.”
I nodded at Cassidy—she was right—but my shoulders pinched with tension. Their story had clearly been designed to paint me as the problem and them as the poor victims of a depressed teenager. It made me sick.
“What’s their game?” Bowie asked, and I wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or expecting an answer.
“Are they trying to force her out of hiding?” Jameson asked.
