I sat up straighter. All her talk about meditation and energies was what I expected to hear. But why was she worried about me being in West Virginia?
“Why?”
“People are looking for you again. For Callie.”
I clapped my hand over my mouth to keep the whiskey down. My stomach turned over and it took me a second to answer. “What are you talking about? The case went cold years ago.”
“They reopened it,” she said. “I thought you’d know about that.”
“What? How would I know? Is this recent? You never said anything.”
She kept talking in the same breezy voice, as if she hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on me. “I don’t know much about it. Just things I’ve heard here and there. I thought you might have seen something on the neterweb.”
“The internet?”
“Yes, that.”
For the most part, I’d always loved Henna’s spacey obliviousness to the outside world. She and Quincy had naturally insulated me from the fallout of my disappearance, at a time when I’d needed to be protected. And they’d been the ones to tell me Jonah Bodine had passed away.
But my case had been reopened? If there was an active investigation, I really needed to get out of West Virginia.
“No, I had no idea.”
She was quiet for a moment. “Sunflower, don’t go looking for trouble. Those old hurts are just going to weigh your spirit down. Let it go.”
I thought about Gibson. His gravelly voice had taken root inside me. “I don’t know if I can.”
“The choice is yours, but you need to be careful. Ask yourself whether this is a road you want to go down. If you’re prepared to see what’s at the end of it.”
“I know.” I smiled again. “Let me guess. Meditate on it?”
“Mm-hmm,” she said. “And make sure you’re taking your wheatgrass shots. Oh, Quincy waves hello. He took a vow of silence until the full moon is in Aquarius.”
“Tell him I said hi. And thanks, Henna. I’ll let you know when I can come see you.”
“I look forward to it, love.”
“Me too. Love you.”
“Love you too, sunflower.”
I ended the call. Usually talking to Henna left me feeling calm and relaxed. Her soft voice was so soothing. But my case had been reopened? How was that even possible?
I got my laptop out of my bag, set it on the bed, and powered it on. Anticipation tingled in my tummy as I Googled my old name.
Oh god. I was going to need another bottle of whiskey for this.
6
GIBSON
I drove home, feeling like a fucking disaster.
Ever since Scarlett had found that damn sweater, I’d been stuck on the Callie Kendall roller coaster, and I couldn’t get off.
My gut churned and my shoulders were knotted with tension. I sped down the empty highway, my headlights flashing against the trees, lighting up the lines on the road. I rolled down the window to get some air—Gus Porter had gotten me in to fix the window Misty Lynn had broken—but it didn’t help.
Callie Kendall had died. I’d been certain of it.
She’d been a sweet girl and I hated the thought that something terrible had happened to her. Wondering if my father had been responsible, though—that was what had been eating me alive for the past year.
But Callie wasn’t dead. And my father had helped her. He hadn’t killed anyone, accidentally or otherwise. But he had kept a big fucking secret for a long time. A secret that could have saved a lot of people from a lot of pain.
That woman in the bar. Why had I called her Callie? What was it about her that had grabbed me so hard I’d followed her outside?
Jenny Leland. I hadn’t seen Jonah’s mom since the day I’d been taken in for questioning. I’d been avoiding everyone. But she swore she’d seen Callie a year ago. She was the one person who might be able to sort this out. She knew what Callie looked like now.
“Maya,” I said aloud, trying out the name. Was Maya Callie? Clenching my teeth, I punched the steering wheel.
It was late, but first thing tomorrow, I was going to have a little chat with Ms. Jenny.
Jenny was already sitting in a booth in Moonshine. I nodded to Granny Louisa and Estelle on my way in. Half the people in here took one look at me, then started whispering. I rolled my eyes, ignoring them, then took a seat across from my brother’s mother.
“Morning.” She pushed a full cup of coffee toward me.