father’s attention,” June announced as I pulled into her driveway. Katherine, sensing she was home, woke with a snort.
Part of me wanted to retain ownership of the research. But a slightly smarter part recognized that it was a better choice to turn things over to Sheriff Tucker and let him pass them up the chain of command. If my concerns were dismissed, then I’d be free to continue my own investigation.
“I think that’s a good idea, June. How about I go home and talk to Jonah? Then we can go see your dad at the station?”
“That will be acceptable.”
June and Katherine got out and headed into the house. I spent the five-minute drive home practicing what I’d say to Jonah.
“Hey, so you know how I said I was taking Billy Ray on a playdate with June and Katherine? Well, instead I took everyone on a road trip to interrogate the Callie Kendall impersonator—who by the way is conveniently dead as of Thursday—and a really sweet retired music teacher who I’m pretty sure cried after we left. What’s for dinner?”
Billy Ray propped his paws up on the console and yipped.
“It’s just a first draft,” I explained to the dog. “Uh-oh. Daddy’s home.” I pulled in behind Jonah’s car. He was stretching on the front porch, taking hits from a water bottle.
He looked up, grinned, waved.
My heart did a little thump hop in my chest. Just physical attraction, I told myself. Just appreciating the fine male form.
“Hey there, cutie pie,” he said, descending the stairs to meet me in the driveway.
He brushed his mouth over mine in a sweet, lazy kiss.
My cheeks flushed with heat. I couldn’t tell if I was nervous about coming clean or if it was something else. Something about coming home to Jonah Bodine who called me cutie pie and kissed me in the front yard.
“Hi,” I said breathlessly.
“There’s my buddy,” Jonah said, kneeling down to rough up Billy Ray’s ears. The puppy looked about as smitten as I felt. Oh, boy. I was in serious trouble.
“We were invited to dinner with your parents, drinks at Jameson and Leah Mae’s, and out on a double date with my mom and—God help us all—Jimmy Bob Prosser,” he announced, scooping the puppy up under one arm and slinging his free arm over my shoulders steering me toward the house.
“You did? What are we busy doing?” Besides spending the evening fighting over what I’m about to tell you?
“Each other,” he said with a devilish wink. His hand skimmed my bare arm, and my sensible underwear dissolved.
“Before we, um, participate in that particular activity, we do have to do something fully clothed and socially um… necessary.”
Scarlett: Has anyone talked to Gibs lately?
Bowie: Gibs who?
Jameson: Does Gibs willingly talk to anyone?
Jonah: Haven’t heard from him since the cookout.
Scarlett: I’m getting annoyed with the hermit routine. Y’all think he’s wallowing?
Bowie: I’ll give him a call and obnoxiously pump him for information. I need a favor from him anyway.
Scarlett: Bless your Bodine heart! Lemme know if the grumpy bastard needs anything.
43
Jonah
I took it as well as I could. Mindful that this was very likely some kind of Shelby test.
So my girlfriend took our dog, our friend, and our friend’s pig on an investigation road trip because she was convinced she had a lead that investigators had ignored for thirteen years. And now she needed to go to the sheriff and explain what she’d found.
I took another cleansing breath.
“Do I have time for a shower?” I asked.
Shelby blinked. She’d been twisting her hands together and biting the corner of her bottom lip.
“Uh. Yeah? I mean, sure,” she said.
“Okay. Why don’t you grab a snack while I shower and change?”
“Yeah. Great. Sure. Wait!” She grabbed me when I started for the stairs. “You don’t seem mad.”
“I’m not.” I wasn’t really mad. Mad wasn’t the right word. Concerned. Annoyed. Extremely cognizant of the fact that if I launched into a lecture on what she should have done, I’d be reinforcing the concerns she had about sharing information with people who cared about her. Nothing good would come from me blowing up at her. So I gave her a smile and a gentle shove in the direction of the kitchen. “See you in a few.”
I dashed up the stairs and stripped in the bathroom. My face was under the stream of tepid water when the door burst open.