“What proof do you have?” Gibson demanded, his voice breaking.
Thoughts whirled around in my brain.
Wordlessly, Jenny reached into her purse and pulled out a stack of postcards. She laid them out one by one in front of Gibson. Blue Moon Bend, New York. Buenos Aires. Tokyo. Atlanta. Los Angeles. London. Seattle. Boston.
There were twelve in total. The first several were addressed to Jonah Bodine in Bootleg Springs.
“I don’t understand,” Jonah said.
Jenny tapped the first one. Blue Moon. “Flip it over.”
Restlessly, Gibson flipped it on the table.
Thanks for everything.
Gibson sank back down in his chair like his knees had gone weak. He looked pale.
Jonah picked up the card and studied it. “The postmark is a week after she went missing.”
“Are you saying these postcards are all from Callie Kendall?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me rendering me unable to stay quiet.
This was a family matter. But I’d been drawn into it. Or I’d drawn myself into it.
Gibson flipped every card over carefully. “That’s her handwriting,” he said hoarsely.
I skimmed over them quickly. They were all postmarked about a year apart. The more recent ones included innocuous song lyrics. The last card had been mailed thirteen months ago. To Jonah’s mother.
“If she sent these cards,” I said, “there’s no way those remains are hers.”
“And if they aren’t hers, who do they belong to?” Jonah asked. “And why does someone want everyone to believe it’s Callie?”
Q. Bootleg Springs is famous for the disappearance of Callie Kendall. What is your theory?
Misty Lynn Prosser: Why’s everyone always goin’ on and on about that girl? So she disappeared. Big deal. She didn’t even live here. Personally, I couldn’t give two shits about what happened. Maybe she up and got herself murdered and dumped in the lake. Maybe she met a boy and ran away and got herself murdered and dumped in a different lake.
47
Jonah
Out of all the Bodines, I’d been the least affected by the Callie Kendall investigation and our father’s involvement. I hadn’t grown up here. Hadn’t known Callie or experienced the horror of her disappearance. Hadn’t been raised by the man that many now considered to be a murderer.
But with my mother’s revelation, my head was spinning. Gibson looked like he’d just seen a ghost.
I picked up the postcards again, examining them as if they held the answers.
“I can’t believe you never told me,” I said to my mother.
Mom winced. “Subjects pertaining to your father were a sore subject for you,” she said diplomatically. “And if his suspicions were correct and Judge Kendall had anything to do with Callie’s injuries, then that man is dangerous. Your father made me swear never to tell anyone. He didn’t want anyone else becoming a target.”
Shelby was watching Gibson closely, drumming her fingers against her lips. Her tell for deep thought.
My brother’s words echoed in my ears.
That’s her handwriting.
There was more to the story. A lot more. I was sure of it. But right now, there was an immediate danger to be dealt with.
“I gotta be honest. This is a lot to process,” I said to the room in general.
Shelby nodded, still staring at Gibson. I knew she’d zeroed in on his comment as well.
“You knew this whole time?” he asked my mom quietly.
“Yes. But it wasn’t my story to tell. I don’t tell stories that aren’t mine,” she said carefully as if she were delivering a message in code.
“Jonah, can I see you in the kitchen for a minute?” Shelby said suddenly.
“Uh, sure?”
I followed her out of the dining room and into the kitchen.
She turned to face me, arms crossed over her chest. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said, not quite sure if I meant it or not. My mother had been keeping a secret so big it now involved dead bodies. And she’d kept it for over a decade.
“This is a lot of information,” she pressed.
I ran my hand through my hair.
I could hear Gibson and my mother speaking in the dining room. He had questions. We all would. And I had one, too.
“How did he recognize her handwriting?” I asked quietly.
Shelby bit her lip. “I was wondering that myself,” she confessed.
“Things are gonna get crazy,” I told her.
She nodded. “But I’m here for you. Whatever you and your mom and the Bodines need.”
I pulled her into my arms. “Thank you for being so good to my family.”
“In a town this small, there aren’t many degrees of separation between your family and my