Sidecar Crush Page 8

  Gibson walked in and tipped his chin to Clarabell. He pulled up a chair and sat at the end of the table. Clarabell filled our mugs, then took everyone’s orders before going to check on her other customers.

  I added sugar to my coffee, ignoring the look Jonah gave me. He was always giving me grief about how much sugar I ate.

  “Well, let’s get things settled,” Bowie said. “Jayme said we can get back into Dad’s place as of today. There’s still a lot of stuff to sort through. Then it’ll be a matter of hauling things where they need to go. The dump, thrift store, what have you.”

  “Sounds fair,” Scarlett said. “Then me and Gibs can get it ready to flip. We’ll need all y’all’s help with that work, too, though. Don’t forget.”

  “We’ve got you,” Bowie said.

  Jonah and I nodded. Gibson grunted and sipped his coffee.

  “What day works for everyone to get started?” Bowie asked. “Tomorrow’s a holiday, and Monday’s the fifth, so that’s out.”

  We all nodded. The fifth of July was a no-go for everyone in Bootleg. Clarabell would open Moonshine, and it was likely the Pop In and a few other places would open their doors—mostly for tourists who didn’t understand how things worked. But the day after the Fourth of July was not a day for working around these parts. Bootleg Springs took her Independence Day festivities very seriously. Which meant copious amounts of liquor and some serious post-holiday hangovers.

  “Let’s plan for Tuesday, then,” Bowie said. “Meet here for breakfast first, then we’ll tackle the house. Get through as much as we can that day, then decide from there.”

  Clarabell brought our breakfasts, passing out plates stacked high with food. My waffles looked tasty, but I still wasn’t in much of a mood for ’em.

  “Sounds good,” Scarlett said.

  “I’ll be there to help,” Jonah said.

  Scarlett smiled at him. “You’re a good sort, Jonah Bodine.”

  “Thank you, Scarlett,” he said. “I appreciate that.”

  The door opened, and I glanced up. Felt a sense of discomfort in my gut. Judge Kendall walked in with his wife. He was a large man with a round belly. Balding with a short white beard. His eyes swept around the restaurant, pausing on our table for a moment. His wife clutched a little yellow handbag and kept her eyes on the floor. He nudged her forward, and she shuffled ahead of him to a table.

  I’d always felt a bit odd seeing Judge and Mrs. Kendall. They didn’t live in Bootleg Springs year-round, but spent their summers here. Even kept on after Callie had disappeared. I felt bad for them. Felt bad they had to face the place their daughter was last seen—probably where she’d died. I wasn’t sure why they kept coming back to Bootleg year after year. But maybe facing it helped them, somehow. Hard to be sure.

  My siblings chatted over breakfast, mostly about tomorrow. There was a lot going on in Bootleg for the Fourth, and Scarlett wanted to make sure we’d all turn out for the festivities. I’d go, but I doubted I’d be in the mood to celebrate any more than I was in the mood for my waffles this morning.

  Clarabell left Judge Kendall’s table, and he rose from his seat. Walked over to us, and stood next to our table.

  Whatever Scarlett had been about to say died on her lips as she looked up at the judge.

  “Pardon the interruption,” Judge Kendall said. His voice was low and smooth—almost soft coming from the big man. “I just wanted you all to know that I don’t hold your daddy responsible for what happened to my daughter. I’m aware of what was found in his home, but my wife and I harbor no ill will against your family.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Bowie said. “We appreciate hearing that.”

  Judge Kendall nodded. “Truth be told, we’d like it if they stopped the investigation all together. It’s so difficult on my wife. She’s in a fragile state, and this has brought up painful memories.”

  “I’d imagine so,” Bowie said.

  The rest of us stayed silent, allowing Bowie to speak for us.

  “My daughter was… troubled,” Judge Kendall said. “I’ve told the police many times. It runs on her mother’s side of the family, I’m afraid.” He glanced back at his wife who sat staring at the table. “We tried to get her help, but even Bootleg wasn’t enough to cure her.”

  Callie Kendall had been my age, but I hadn’t known her well. Talking to girls, other than Leah Mae, hadn’t been my best skill in those days. But she’d been around at the lake or wherever us kids had been hanging out during the summer. Troubled wouldn’t have been a word I’d have used to describe Callie, although you never knew what people were hiding. Pensive, maybe. Anxious, sometimes. But also sweet and friendly. Her father had always maintained that she’d committed suicide, and there was something about that I couldn’t quite swallow.

  Of course, if the alternative was that my father had killed her, I wasn’t sure which was worse. Suicide was a terrible, tragic thing. But finding out my father really had murdered a sixteen-year-old girl would have been horrifying.

  “I guess we’ll see what the police decide about all of it,” Scarlett said.

  Scarlett thought the judge was wrong about Callie. I could see it in her eyes. She was a fireball, but smart enough not to start trouble with Judge Kendall. But I could tell she was itching to say more.

  “Well, I’ll let you get back to your breakfasts,” Judge Kendall said. “I just didn’t want to let the silence between us stretch on any longer than necessary. What Callie did was tragic, and I hope the police will let it lie so my wife and I can have some peace.”

  “Thank you, Judge,” Bowie said. “Y’all take care.”

  With a tilt of his head, Judge Kendall went back to his table.

  “Well, that was unexpected,” Scarlett said in a low voice.

  “I guess that means he won’t be pushing to search Dad’s property again,” Bowie said.

  “You should all still keep your distance,” Devlin said quietly. “Just go about your business, and let the Kendalls go about theirs.”

  We shifted in our seats and went back to our breakfasts. But no one seemed to feel like talking. I reckoned we all felt guilty that one of our own might have cost this man so much.

  Gibson was the first to leave, just a minute or two after the judge went back to his seat. His plate was still half-full but he muttered something about having to work, tossed some cash on the table, and left. Bowie finished up his breakfast and excused himself to leave. Jonah and Devlin left to help Dev’s Granny Louisa with something at her place, which left me and Scarlett.

  “You’re quiet this morning,” Scarlett said. “Course, I guess you’re always quiet.”

  “I reckon.”

  “Waffles not treating you so well?” she asked.

  “They’re fine, I’m just not hungry.”

  “Are you coming out for the Fourth?” she asked. “You didn’t say anything when we were talking about it before.”

  I shrugged. She was probably about to talk me into it, but right now, I didn’t much want to. “Maybe. Do you need a solid answer, or can I just show up if it works out?”

  She trailed a finger through the syrup on her plate and licked it. “I guess you can just show up if you want to. But I kinda think you’ll want to.”

  My Scarlett-alarm went off, but I could sense it was already too late. She was up to something. There was nothing else for it but to play her game. “And why do you think that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, her voice light. “I invited Leah Mae Larkin and she said she’d come.”

  My eyebrows drew in and I gave her the side-eye. “Leah Mae left town.”

  Scarlett’s mouth turned up in a devilish little grin. “You’re certain about that?”

  “Well, yeah,” I said. “It’s not like I drove over there to see or anything. But today was her flight. I do know that.”

  “Seems she had a change of heart,” she said. “Called me yesterday to see if she could extend her stay. Her cabin was booked, but I had
a last-minute cancellation on another one, so I set her up there yesterday afternoon.”

  I had no idea what Scarlett could see in my face. I was trying very hard to keep everything I was feeling from showing, but there was so much. So many emotions racing through me, quick as a lightning strike. Relief, mixed with worry, topped off with something that was awfully close to elation.

  I cleared my throat. “Sounds like it worked out for both of you.”

  “Sure did,” she said. “And since she’ll be all alone for the holiday, I told her she really ought to come out and celebrate with everyone.”

  All alone. Did that mean her fiancé had left? I wanted to know, but I didn’t want to ask. Wasn’t sure if I should ask. I picked at what was left of my waffles.

  Scarlett groaned. “Why don’t you just ask me?”

  “Ask you what?”

  “You are such a pain in the ass,” she said. “Ask me about Kevin, or whatever his name was. The guy she was with.”

  “Why would I ask you about him?”

  She rolled her eyes. “So that’s how we’re playin’ it? Fine. Because you’re my brother and I love you even though you’re stupid, I’ll tell you. He’s gone. He left yesterday. And you best be in town tomorrow for the Fourth of July, or I will come over and haul your ass out of that damn workshop. And if you get really stubborn, I’ll sic Gibs on you.”

  “All right, all right. I’ll be there.”

  “Good,” Scarlett said with a self-satisfied grin and licked the last of the syrup off her finger. “Then my work here is done.”

  10

  Jameson

  Downtown Bootleg was awash in red, white, and blue. The decorating had started days ago, and now the entire town was decked out for Independence Day. Lake Street was closed to vehicular traffic and it had been transformed into a veritable carnival. Booths sold food and drink, and games were set up all up and down the street. Crepe paper and helium balloons—all red, white, and blue—were everywhere. More booths sold little flags, buttons, pins, and other novelties, and a fireworks stand down by the lake had a line that was already at least twenty deep.

  The noise of the crowd buzzed around me. Seemed like just about everyone in Bootleg had turned out, locals and tourists alike. Wasn’t often that there were this many people in one place in a town like ours. Kids darted in and out of their parents’ legs while they chatted with friends and neighbors. Most people held red plastic cups—filled with sweet tea, lemonade, moonshine, or beer, depending on who was holding them.

  Mine was just lemonade, although I was thinking a cup of strawberry moonshine didn’t sound like a bad idea. Crowds were not my favorite thing. My dad always used to tell me I was too damn sensitive, and maybe that was true. But the press of people tended to get overwhelming.

  “Well, hello, Jameson Bodine.” Misty Lynn Prosser wandered over, swaying her hips more than was natural. Her hair was big, her makeup thick, and her boobs were practically busting out of her I heart America tube top.

  “Hey, Misty Lynn,” I said, my back stiffening. I hoped she’d go away quickly.

  “Where’s your brother?” she asked.

  “Which one?”

  She looked me up and down. “You know which one.”

  “I don’t know where any of them are.”

  “All right.” She smacked her gum a few times. “You tell Gibson I was askin’ for him if you see him.”

  “You ever gonna give up on that?” I muttered under my breath. She glanced back at me, so I gave her a little smile. “Sure thing, Misty Lynn. Say, how’s Rhett’s nose?”

  She lifted one shoulder. “Fine, I guess. You didn’t break it.”

  I almost said that’s a shame, but decided letting her walk away was the better choice.

  A light touch on my shoulder made me spin around.

  “Sorry,” Leah Mae said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Before I could stop myself, I was grinning at her like an idiot. She looked like sugar and sunshine in a yellow tank top with a few little blue flowers embroidered on the front. Cut-off jeans showed her long legs, and red toenails peeked through her sandals. Her long hair was down, and she had a white flower tucked behind one ear.

  “That’s all right,” I said. “Didn’t expect to see you still here.”

  “Neither did I,” she said. “But my dad isn’t doing so well. It didn’t feel right to leave.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “Thanks.” She fiddled with a lock of her hair. “He seemed better this morning. I made sure he got a good breakfast, and Betsy is spending the afternoon with him. He wanted to come into town, but I talked him into going back to bed after he had a coughing fit. I had to threaten to call Doc Trevor on him, though.”

  I laughed. Clay Larkin had never struck me as the sort of man who took orders well. “Hopefully with you here seein’ to him, he’ll be up and about in no time.”

  “I hope so, too,” she said with a smile.

  Scarlett appeared at Leah Mae’s side, seemingly out of nowhere. “Y’all are here! Good. We need more people to run the obstacle course.”

  She grabbed Leah Mae’s hand, and my wrist, and tugged us up the street after her. I tossed my cup into a garbage can on the street corner as we passed.

  “What obstacle course?” Leah Mae asked.

  Scarlett didn’t stop, dragging us alongside her. “Haven’t you done the obstacle course before?”

  “I don’t think so,” Leah Mae said.

  I had definitely never done the obstacle course. In fact, I’d always made myself scarce until it had begun because I didn’t want someone—like Scarlett—trying to make me do it.

  “It’s been a tradition for a while, but maybe it hadn’t started last you were here,” Scarlett said. She turned toward Gin Rickey Park. “You need a partner, but there’s two of you, so that’s already settled.”

  And that was why I avoided the obstacle course. It didn’t look difficult, in and of itself. Climbing over things, slogging through mud, and jumping in the lake were all fine. It was the partner aspect that kept me away. You didn’t just go through the course with another person. You did it tied to your partner. Being fastened to another person with a rope was not my idea of a good time.

  But if Scarlett meant for me to do the course with Leah Mae, that would mean…

  “Hold on there, Scarlett—”

  “This will be fun,” Scarlett said.

  “I don’t think I’m wearing the right shoes,” Leah Mae said.

  “You’ll be fine,” Scarlett said. “Barefoot’s better anyway.”

  We got to the edge of the field where everyone was getting ready to begin. Bernie O’Dell stood nearby wearing an American flag t-shirt. He had a megaphone in one hand and lengths of rope draped over his other arm. Bowie, Devlin, and Jonah were all there, along with Cassidy and June. Apparently Gibson was smart enough to stay away. I didn’t see him anywhere.

  “Kick off your shoes and empty your pockets,” Scarlett said. “Hey Dev, you got the ropes for everyone?”

  “Yep.”

  “Ropes?” Leah Mae asked as she stepped out of her sandals.

  “Ah, hell.” I took off my shoes and put my phone and keys on top of them. Leah Mae put her things next to mine. “Yeah, ropes.”

  “All right, y’all,” Scarlett said, raising her voice. “Devlin’s with me. Jonah, you pair up with June. Bowie, that puts you with Cassidy, and Jameson can team up with Leah Mae. Y’all know how this works. Devlin and I are gonna kick everyone’s asses. Got that?”

  Devlin handed out lengths of smooth, braided rope to each pair. I took one and let it drape from my hand, feeling like I couldn’t quite make eye contact with Leah Mae.

  Jonah and June stood facing each other and wound the rope around their waists. Bowie looked like he was having a hard time taking the last couple of steps to get close enough to Cassidy. She snatched the rope from his hand with a roll of her eyes and got in front of him.

  �
�Come on, Jame, work with me here,” Scarlett said, shoving me and Leah Mae together. “Can you get it, or do you need me to tie it for you?”

  Leah Mae and I stood facing each other, just inches apart. I swallowed hard. Good lord, she smelled like citrus and sunshine. How in the hell was I going to do this?

  “I, uh… I think I can…”

  “Get in there,” Scarlett said, giving me one final shove. “I gotta get roped in.”

  I practically crashed into Leah Mae and had to put my arms around her to keep from knocking her over. “Sorry.”

  Her body was up against mine, her face close. She laughed softly, her breath warm against my neck. “That’s okay. We have to tie ourselves together?”

  “Yeah.” I wound the rope around our waists. Now that she was pressed against me, I didn’t much want that to end. “You know how it is. Bootleggers can’t do anything normal. Even an obstacle course.”

  I tied the rope behind her and tried to think of something—anything—to calm down my raging hard-on. One wrong move and Leah Mae was going to rub up against it and that was liable to kill me dead on the spot. But good lord, she smelled good.

  “All y’all listen up,” Bernie O’Dell said into his megaphone. “Here’s the rules, and I mean for you to follow them, so don’t go gettin’ any ideas about cheatin’. Partners must stay tied together at all times. Everybody keeps their feet on the ground. No piggybacks or carryin’ each other. The course begins here and ends at the lake. Y’all gotta jump in, but don’t go drownin’ your partner once you’re in the water. We clear?”

  Whoops and hollers sounded from around the field.

  “Line up, then,” Bernie said.

  Everyone’s first attempts at moving while attached to their partners were halting at best. People stumbled, laughing. Giggled as they fell over and struggled to get up.

  “I think the trick to this is walking sideways,” I said.

  Leah Mae and I turned our faces toward the start line. My arms hung awkwardly at my sides, but I wasn’t sure what to do with them. We managed to get to the start line doing a kind of side-shuffle. Just walking wasn’t so bad, but I had a feeling the rest of the course wasn’t going to be so kind.