I gave her a stiff hug, feeling awkward. She gently patted me on the back and pulled away, putting her hands on my arms.
“How’re you doing, honey?”
“Fine.”
“How’s Maya?”
“She’s fine.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Fine? That’s it?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, I’ll take that for now,” she said. “It’s good to see you, honey. We should have coffee again sometime. That was nice.”
I was a little surprised to realize she was right. It had been nice. I’d been a mess of confused feelings at the time—still was, really—but Jenny had a way about her. She’d made me feel better. I could tell why Jonah was such a steady guy.
“Yeah, that’d be all right.”
“Good. I’ll see you around.”
I nodded to her and left, feeling a bit off-balance. I liked Jenny. Nothing wrong with liking your half-brother’s mom.
But I didn’t really like many people, and it surprised me a bit that she was one of them.
I needed to get my head together. I stopped outside the store to text Callie—she was Maya in my contacts—to see where she was.
Me: You about done? Where are you?
Maya: Little change of plans. Ran into Shelby. Going to get our nails done. Do you mind?
A flash of irritation made me growl. I didn’t mind that she was with Shelby, or that she was getting her nails done. Girls were weird about that stuff, it wasn’t anything to me. But I couldn’t exactly park myself in the little nail salon and watch them get manicures. The desire to be with her—just to make sure she was safe, of course—was making my back prickle.
Me: Let me know when you’re done.
I pocketed my phone. I’d just have to kill some time while I waited. And if that meant I happened to wander around by the nail salon, who could blame me? Made sense to stay close.
People meandered up and down the street. Summertimers wandered with shopping bags and ice cream cones. Locals waved to each other or stopped for a chat. Trent McCulty lumbered by on a big green tractor. He had to stop for Mona Lisa McNugget. She bobbed her way out onto the road, then stopped right in front of the huge tire to peck at something on the concrete.
Scarlett came around a corner, dressed in a dark blue tank top and jean shorts. A dog tugged on a leash in her hands. She gripped it tight and leaned backward, like she was having a hard time hanging on.
“Who the hell’s dog is that?” I asked.
“Oh, hey Gibs,” she said, breathing hard. She shoved the leash toward me. “Take him for a minute, will you?”
I grabbed the nylon leash just as it went taut, the dog pulling hard. Wrapping it around my hand twice for a better grip, I gave it a solid tug. I pursed my lips and let out a shrill whistle. “Hold up, there.”
The dog stopped, turning to look at me. He had tan fur with a white patch on his face. He looked like a pit bull, but on the small side, with a turned-up snout and only one eye. He regarded me for a moment, like he was deciding whether to listen to me. I stared him down.
His tongue lolled out of his mouth and he plopped down onto the sidewalk.
“How’d you do that?” Scarlett asked. “He won’t listen to a word I say.”
I tilted my head at the dog. “I guess he knows what’s good for him. But Scar, please tell me you didn’t get a dog. Between you and Dev and that demon you call a cat, your house is cramped as it is.”
“I didn’t get a dog.”
“Then where’d he come from? You dog-walking on the side now?”
“You’re not going to believe this.” There was heat in her voice. “Some asshole summertimers left him. Abandoned him at one of my rentals.”
“Are you sure he’s not lost?”
“I’m sure all right. I’ve been trying to get a hold of them to tell them he’s still here. Finally did, and the guy claimed they’d never had a dog. I called him on his bullshit and got him to admit they’d left him on purpose. Said they thought they were doing him a kindness, since they weren’t cut out to be dog owners.”
A flash of anger hit me. “The fuck?”
“I know, it’s horrible. They’re blacklisted from this town for life. But now I gotta figure out what to do with him.”
I eyed the dog for a second. He watched me with his one eye. It was a clear bluish-green, so light it almost lacked color. He cocked his head, the tips of his ears flopping forward. The little guy did something weird to that tangled knot of feelings I was carrying around. Poked at it. He was awfully cute, and Callie had said I seemed like a dog person. Kinda made me want to—
“I’ll take him.”
“What?”
Shit, I’d said that out loud. I crouched down and he got up to sniff my hands. His nose was wet and his fur soft.
I glanced up at my sister while I absently petted the dog’s head. “I said I’ll take him. Been thinking about getting a dog anyway.”
“All right,” she said with a smile. “He ain’t very big, but he’s strong and he has a mind of his own.”
“Sounds like someone else I know.” I winked at her.
“Very funny,” she said. “So, what’s his name?”
“Doesn’t he have one?” I checked his collar, but it looked new and there wasn’t a tag.
“I didn’t ask the pieces of crap who left him. They don’t deserve to name a sweet boy like that. Although now that I think about it, maybe if I’d known his name, he would have answered to it.”
He licked my hand. “I’ll come up with something.”
“Okay, you are now the proud owner of this very cute dog.” She brushed her hands together. “I’ll dump the dog stuff I bought for him in your truck.”
I scratched his head one last time and stood, keeping the leash tight in my grip in case he decided to run off. “Thanks, Scar.”
“I’ll see you later. I’m gonna go tell Dev we’re done dog-sitting.”
I watched my sister go, the leash dangling from my hand. Damn it, what had I just done? I looked down at the dog. He lifted his chin, his tongue hanging out. He was cute, all right.
Apparently I had a dog now.
18
GIBSON
Callie was still getting her nails done with Shelby, so I waited outside. I’d stopped at the Pop In for a couple of bottled waters and a plastic dish. It was hot out and the dog—little guy really needed a name—had been thirsty. He’d happily lapped up the water, his big tongue slapping against the dish.
I sat on a bench outside the salon, the dog’s leash still firmly in my hand. Scarlett had been right, he was stronger than he looked. For the most part, he sat near my feet, but once in a while, something would catch his interest and he’d try to dart away.
“Come here, buddy,” I said, patting the bench beside me. “Come on up.”
He jumped up, his tail wagging furiously, and stood in my lap.
I leaned back and shoved his butt down so he’d sit. “Not in my face, buddy. Sit. That’s right, sit.”
He plopped down on my lap and rested his chin on his front paws. I shook my head, scratching behind his ears. Weird dog.
Callie and Shelby came out of the shop, laughing together. The dog sat up and his tail started smacking against the bench.
“Hey, who’s this?” Callie sat on the bench next to me and the dog went right to her, his tail wagging so hard his backside wiggled back and forth. She laughed, petting his head.
“Aw,” Shelby cooed. “He’s so cute. Whose dog is he?”
“Mine.”
“What?” Callie asked, still laughing softly. The dog kept trying to sniff her boobs.
Couldn’t say I blamed him.
“He’s mine, I guess.” I shrugged one shoulder, crossing an ankle over my other knee. “Someone abandoned him at one of Scarlett’s rentals.”
Callie grabbed both sides of his face and rubbed them, bringing her nose close to his. “Oh my god, I love him. What’s his name?”
<
br /> “Doesn’t have one yet.”
“Aw, Gibson, he’s adorable,” Shelby said. “Maya, we need a puppy playdate. He and Billy Ray can be best friends.”
“They’ll be so cute together,” Callie said.
Shelby took a turn petting his head. “I have to run, but thanks for hanging out. It was fun.”
“It was.” Callie smiled at her and the dog nudged her face. “Okay, big guy, I’m still paying attention to you. We’ll chat later, Shelby.”
“Bye, Gibson.”
I nodded to Shelby. Her ponytail bounced as she walked up the street to her car.
“You really got a dog,” Callie said.
I wasn’t sure if she meant it as a question. “I didn’t go looking for him. Scarlett walked up the sidewalk with him tugging on his leash and… I don’t know. He needed a home.”
“Who would leave you out here, huh?” she asked. “Good thing we found you. Who’s a good boy? Yes, you are.”
“What should—” I paused, clearing my throat. I’d been about to say what should we name him, like it was our dog. Like Callie and I were a real thing. “He needs a name.”
He turned and jumped back in my lap, whacking Callie with his tail a few times in the process. I sputtered as he licked my face. “Down, boy. Sit.”
Callie laughed. “Looks like you taste good.”
My eyes darted to her and she glanced away quickly. She hadn’t meant it like that, but it still made me think of what it would be like to have her tongue on me.
Fuck’s sake, even an unplanned dog adoption couldn’t distract me enough to stop thinking dirty thoughts about her.
“Come here, buddy.” She took his face in her hands again. “How about Cash?”
“As in Johnny?”
“Yeah. I think he looks like a Cash.”
The first song Callie and I had ever sung together was “I Walk the Line” by Johnny Cash. Did she remember that? Thinking back on that made me smile.
“Works for me,” I said. “We should get back. I have more work to do today.”
I took them home and left Cash in the house with Callie while I went out to my workshop. A couple of hours later, I heard her voice outside. She was tossing him a ball out back. I stood by the house and watched them for a few minutes. Cash happily ran back and forth, bringing the ball back and dropping it at her feet.
Callie’s colorful hair blew in the breeze and she smiled while she played with Cash. I was still coming to terms with the fact that it was her. That thirteen years of wondering what had happened to her had come to an end. Thirteen years of assuming I’d never see her again.
My insides were still all twisted, but at least I didn’t feel like I was about to pop a blood vessel. Wasn’t quite sure when I’d calmed down. Working for a few hours had helped. Maybe Cash had, too. I still didn’t know how to deal with all the fucking feelings I was having, but I didn’t want to punch something anymore. Seemed like progress.
I went back to my workshop to finish up and when I went inside the house, I found Callie curled up on the couch with Cash’s head in her lap. They were both asleep. Looked like they’d worn each other out.
Scarlett had given me a small bag of dog food and a couple of toys, but that wasn’t going to last long. And the little guy could use a bed of his own, and some sturdier dishes. Some more toys. Probably another leash, in case we needed a spare.
I didn’t want to wake them—they were awfully cute sleeping on the couch like that—and I felt better leaving Callie with Cash here. He wasn’t very big, and if someone did come creeping around, he’d probably just try to lick them. But at least he’d bark. I grabbed my keys, made sure both doors were locked, and went out to make a quick trip into town.
Pet Paradise was in downtown Bootleg with a colorful sign out front. The window display had a tall carpet-covered cat tree and a stack of pet beds marked twenty-five percent off.
I rolled on in and made a quick sweep of the store, grabbing dog stuff I figured we’d need. Or I’d need. I had to quit thinking like that—like Cash belonged to both Callie and me. Despite how comfortable I was having her there, she didn’t live with me. Not really. And we weren’t a real couple.
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?”
I didn’t answer.
He took a step closer and lowered his voice. “I’ll tell you what kind of world it is, Mr. Bodine. A dangerous one. More than any of you backwoods hicks in this podunk town realize.”
“You threatening me with something?”
“No. But some things are meant to stay buried.”
He turned and started to walk away. I was about to say something when I noticed a subtle bulge just above hi
s waist, beneath his shirt. Looked like he was carrying a concealed handgun.
Some things are meant to stay buried. Had he been threatening me, or Callie?
Fuck. Callie.
I hit my back pocket, looking for my phone, but it was empty. Shit. Where had I left it? I wasn’t careful about carrying it with me. It was probably sitting on my workbench. But right now I could have punched myself in the damn teeth for leaving it.
I hopped in my truck, wishing I had my Charger back. It was faster. The truck revved to life and I took off out of town, my heart thumping hard.
She was fine. I’d find her on the couch, still napping with Cash. Or maybe taking him outside so he could do his business, or sitting cross-legged on the floor, doing her weird meditation thing. Whoever that guy was, he hadn’t sounded like he knew she was here. But he’d definitely been talking about her.
Some things are meant to stay buried.
I tore around the hairpin turns to my property and kicked up gravel all down the long driveway. Slammed on the brakes and came to a stop. Her rental car was still here, but she wasn’t outside.
Cash didn’t bark when I rushed up to the front door and shoved my key in the lock. So much for his guard dog abilities. I threw open the door and looked around. Empty.
“Callie?” I called out, barreling through the house. It wasn’t very big. Took me all of a few seconds to check every room. No sign of her, or my dog.
“Shit.” I stuck my head out the back door, finding an empty porch. No pretty girl out back tossing a ball or walking the dog. “Callie? You out here?”
Maybe Cash had run off and she was hunting for him in the woods. I jogged out to the trees, but there weren’t any real trails out here. Henrietta seemed to move through the forest without disturbing a single branch, and the game trails didn’t lead this close to my house. If they were out here, they couldn’t have gone far. Not past shouting distance.
I called for her, called for Cash, whistled to see if he’d come. Nothing. Just the breeze whispering through the branches.
There was a sickening familiarity to it. To the silence in the woods and my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest, fear spreading through my gut.
Highball Rush: Bootleg Springs Book 6 Page 14