My breath caught in my throat and the box in my mind rattled violently. It was an older photo, something that had been printed in a newspaper. But it was definitely him. “Yes. He worked for my father.”
“Forward that to me,” Jayme said.
“Doing it right now,” Cassidy said, moving her laptop back in front of her. “This guy is sketchy as all get-out. Started as a cop about twenty-five years ago, but left the force after an investigation. I can’t find much about it. If I didn’t know better, I’d wonder if there was a cover-up.”
“My father kept him out of jail,” I said. It felt like sorting through file folders. Old memories that had been tucked away. “I’m not sure what he did; I was too young to understand it all at the time. But I know he did something and got fired. He went to work for my dad after that. I must have been eleven, so that would have been about eighteen years ago.”
“That matches up with when he left the police force,” Cassidy said. “But I’ve done some searching and I can’t find anything that ties him to the judge.”
“There might not be any direct connections,” Jayme said. “We’ll need to look into the Kendalls’ lawyer and other people closely associated with the judge. We might be able to tie this guy to the judge through one of them. And we need that link. We could use it to show harassment, especially because he made threatening statements.”
“On it,” Cassidy said, already typing.
“Alleged-Callie, is there anything else you can give us on this guy?” Jayme asked. I didn’t sense any malice in her tone. She just wanted proof before she believed me.
“My father used to meet with him in secret. Our house in Virginia had an alarm system with video surveillance. When certain people came over, he’d turn it off. Lee Williams was one of them.” It was a clear memory. If the cameras were turned off, I knew to stay away. Hearing things got me into trouble.
“Make me a list of the rest of those cameras-off people,” Jayme said.
“Okay, sure. I’ll try.”
“And I take it you rode in Connie Bodine’s car,” Jayme said. “Alleged-Callie’s story explains the fingerprints?”
“The fingerprints, the sweater, and the New York speeding ticket,” Bowie said. “He helped her escape.”
“Abuse?” she asked.
“Yes,” Bowie said.
Cassidy reached over to squeeze my hand and Scarlett sidled up next to me. She put her arm around my shoulders and gave me a reassuring hug.
“Well,” Jayme said, and I imagined her crossing things off a list. “Since the forensic results on Connie’s car were inconclusive, we’re probably not going to find anything to tie her death to the judge, and…”
Jayme kept talking, but everything went fuzzy, especially her voice. I couldn’t hear a word because she’d just said tie her death to the judge. Connie Bodine’s death? I stared straight ahead, unseeing. I’d known Connie had passed away. But Jayme was saying my father might have been involved.
Oh god. Had my father arranged to have Gibson’s mother killed?
The room slowly came back into focus. Jayme was still on the phone. Scarlett stood next to me, gently rubbing my back, but her attention was on the call. Jameson and Leah Mae listened quietly, as did Jonah and Shelby. Devlin was taking notes. Cassidy typed and clicked, searching for evidence and answers. Bowie spoke again, gesturing with his hands, but I couldn’t make sense of what anyone was saying.
Gibson still paced, his path taking him toward the window and back again. He stopped and our eyes met.
I looked away, feeling like my chest was going to explode with grief and guilt. The pain of it smashed my lungs, making it hard to breathe. How many lives had been ruined? Jonah Bodine had risked everything to help a hurt little girl, and his wife might have been killed for it. Had four kids lost their mom because of me?
An entire town had spent over a decade holding onto hope for me, grieving me as a loss. And where had I been? At an off-grid farm in a hippie town, doing yoga and drinking wheat-grass smoothies. In recording studios, backstage at concerts, flying around the world, living in hotels.
“I think we’re done for now,” Jayme said. “But for god’s sake, get me her DNA.”
Conversations rose around me, everyone rehashing, planning, venting their frustrations. It all blew past me like a strong breeze. Jayme’s words replayed in my head, over and