Gin Fling (Bootleg Springs #5) - Lucy Score Page 0,85

behind me.

42

Shelby

After terrifying an elderly woman in her own home that we gained entrance to under false pretenses, I felt like I’d done enough damage for the day.

We headed home with our exhausted pets, immune to the terror their mommies unintentionally inflicted, snoozing in the back seat.

“I have concerns that Mrs. Benefiel was not being completely honest,” June said, polishing off the last bite of cookie.

“I have similar concerns,” I agreed, merging onto the highway and pointing us in the direction of Bootleg Springs.

“Who is the ‘him’ she asked about? Perhaps we should turn around and go back and ask for clarification?”

“I think she’s probably had enough questions for today.”

“Perhaps I don’t read people with any consistency. But I felt her physiological reactions point toward fear,” she said, frowning out her window.

“Someone—besides us—scared Mrs. Benefiel, and I think it was tied to that children services report,” I said grimly.

I thought of Judge Kendall again. Those flat, cool gray eyes. Was he capable of aggression? Of violence? And if so, could he inflict both on his own daughter?

The sigh escaped me in a whoosh.

“Are you having difficulty breathing?” June asked.

“No. I’m feeling frustrated. I expected to come home with at least a few answers instead of just more questions. And what did we find out?”

“We discovered that the woman who impersonated Callie Kendall, bilking the Kendalls out of money and an apartment, is now deceased. And the accident remains unsolved,” she summarized. “Then we questioned Mrs. Benefiel, who perpetuated the existing story. That she made a report and then immediately recanted it.”

“Yep. That’s what we found out,” I agreed, feeling tired and frustrated. I’d forgotten lunch and now wasn’t even hungry.

My phone rang, and I winced when I saw the readout on the screen. Jonah.

I hit the ignore button. “We should probably decide on what we’re going to tell Jonah and GT about where we were today,” I told June.

She blinked and frowned at me. “That we went to Baltimore to question Abbie and found her deceased. Then we drove to Mrs. Benefiel’s home where Katherine and Billy Ray got to play with her Great Dane while we questioned her about the sealed child services report.”

“We can’t tell them that!”

“Why not? It’s the truth.”

“Do you always tell GT the truth?” I didn’t know if I was more nervous about Jonah or my brother discovering how we’d spent our day.

“Of course. What’s the point of being in a relationship if you feel it necessary to tell falsehoods?” she asked, looking at me as if I’d just suggested that math was stupid and shouldn’t be taught in schools anymore.

“Well, I…” I didn’t know what to say to that. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Jonah… was it?

Of course not. He was a good guy.

I was just trying to avoid his judgment over what might be deemed questionable behavior. I didn’t want to have the argument that would undoubtedly unfold when I explained that I stuck my nose into an investigation without trusting law enforcement to do their due diligence.

“Oh, hell,” I whispered. I was doing exactly what he’d called me out for doing. Hiding things from people I cared about so I didn’t have to face their reactions or defend myself. I didn’t think I’d done anything truly wrong today. Besides upsetting Mrs. Benefiel. I felt terrible about that, and I was planning on sending her a nice fruit basket or maybe a pizza gift certificate as an apology.

“You shouldn’t be dishonest with Jonah,” June said, pulling her ball cap off and stuffing it into her purse. She didn’t bother looking in the mirror to fix her hair.

“I know. I know.” I did know. But old habits were hard to break.

“Sometimes men surprise you in delightful ways,” she said. “Sometimes they accept you for exactly who you are. But the only way you can discover that kind of relationship is by behaving authentically.”

“Oh, June,” I sighed. “You’re a good friend.”

“Yes. I am.”

I cracked a smile. Maybe it was time to stop shutting everyone out. I was thirty years old and this close to a doctorate. I shouldn’t spend my time worrying about having to defend my decisions. If Jonah didn’t like who I was, then he was welcome to move on and find someone else less curious, less rash, less creaky in the joints.

I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. I had to trust Jonah to accept me. I owed that to him.

“I feel that we should bring our findings to my

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