I read the text again through bleary eyes. It was two in the morning, and I still hadn’t fallen asleep. When I came home from my drive, I saw Scarlett’s house was dark, and I knew Cassidy had made her move. If I couldn’t convince her over dinner to go to the police, Cassidy was Plan B.

I’d walked away tonight, wanting to give up on her the way she’d given up on me. But I couldn’t. She’d begged Jonah to stay. Hell, she’d been horrified by the idea of him leaving. But me? She’d written me off.

What wouldn’t I have done for her if she’d only asked?

I was mad and hurt. But that didn’t stop me from calling in a favor from my friend from law school. Jayme was a sharp lawyer who ran her own firm in Charleston. She was a shark in a pretty package and used it to her advantage. She was exactly the kind of attorney I’d want in my corner, and that’s who Scarlett was getting whether she wanted her or not. I could at least do that for her.

I’d come home and holed up in the office, intending to work. But I found myself digging back into my Callie research. Cassidy had told me confidentially that Jonah Bodine Sr. had never been considered a suspect. And beside the fact that he was alibi’d the night of her disappearance, there was no record of his movements before or after.

I blew out a breath and hoped that Bootleg’s loyalty would remain intact when it came to the Bodines.

I put my phone down and laid back to stare at my ceiling and think about the fact that Scarlett Bodine was too stubborn to trust me... or love me.

* * *

The insistent knocking woke me. I squinted at the clock on my nightstand. It was seven-thirty in the morning, and I’d fallen asleep only an hour or two before. I shuffled into some shorts and cut through the kitchen to get to the front door. It was probably Jayme. She’d always been an annoying early bird.

I pulled the door open on a yawn.

“Oh, my lord! You grew a beard. He grew a beard, Thomas,” my mother gasped.

“Mom? Dad?”

My parents were standing on my doorstep. I wasn’t mentally prepared for this. From now on, I was never answering my door again. Bad things always happened.

“Hello, son,” my father said gruffly.

“Well. Aren’t you going to invite us in?” my mother demanded, and she stepped past me into the house. “I swear a few weeks in this place, and he’s forgotten his manners. A beard, answering the door half naked. I don’t know what they put in the water here.” Her litany of complaints faded when she rounded the corner into the kitchen.

“You look good,” my dad said, pulling me in for a one-armed hug and clapping me on the back. I realized the last time he’d seen me was the day after I’d decked Hayden Ralston on the legislative floor. I’d been drunk and hollow. And Thomas McCallister had sent me packing. I’d been a liability, something to sweep under the rug.

“Is she here?” my mother shouted from the kitchen. “Your little friend?”

“You mean, Scarlett?” I called back dryly.

“Scar—aaaaah!” My mother’s shrill shout of panic had my father and me jogging down the hallway to see what threat she was facing down.

Jonah—poor, disheveled, sleep-deprived Jonah—was staring stupefied at the blonde woman who was flapping her arms like a bird. “Who are you?” she demanded.

“Mom, this is Jonah,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “Jonah, these are my parents, Thomas and Geneva McCallister.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jonah said with a yawn. He was wearing only pajama bottoms.

My mother’s wild eyes flashed back and forth between the two of us. “Are you two...” she glanced around the kitchen as if she were about to impart a secret. “Seeing each other?” she asked.

I looked at Jonah’s bare chest. He cracked a crooked smile.

“What is with this house and turning people gay?” my dad wondered. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” he added quickly. The McCallisters were liberal to the bone but always had one eye on what constituents would think.

“I think we can spin this in the appropriate way, and it might even be a bonus come election time,” my mother mused still staring at Jonah’s chest.

“Jonah is Scarlett’s brother. He’s staying here.”

My parents looked vaguely disappointed.

“I’m going to go back to bed,” Jonah announced and disappeared in the direction of the stairs.

He left, and I was again alone with my parents. I started up the coffeemaker. Caffeine was required for most conversations with them. “What are you two doing here so early?” I asked.

“We wanted to give you the good news in person,” my mother chirped.

“What’s that?”

“Hayden Ralston was arrested last night for soliciting a prostitute. An underage prostitute.” She was breathless with glee and clapped her hands together.

“While we don’t want to celebrate the misfortune of another, we are happy that the attention has shifted from you and your situation,” my father interjected diplomatically.

My mother grabbed my hands. “You realize what this means, don’t you? You can come back. There’s no reason for you to stay here another minute.”

Everything in my brain came to a screeching halt.

“I don’t know about you two, but I certainly wouldn’t mind some breakfast,” my father said, patting his flat stomach.

I rubbed a hand over my beard. “Let me get dressed, and we’ll go to Moonshine.”

My mother’s nose wrinkled. “Honestly, I don’t know what my mother sees in this place.”

The problem was, I did.

* * *

Clarabell fussed over my parents at the diner and talked them into a couple of specials. She didn’t even laugh when my mother tried to order a cappuccino. While Mom chatted about a day sail they’d taken on the bay, I tried to listen to the conversations around us. As far as I could tell, no one was talking about the Bodines or Callie.

That wouldn’t last long. It would be good if I could get my parents out of Bootleg before the news broke.

I was on edge. I wanted to be with Scarlett right now, making sure the Bodines were as removed from the situation as legally possible. Hell, I just wanted to be with Scarlett. She was probably terrified... or pissed off. And I hated the fact that she hadn’t called.

Clarabell delivered our orders with a flourish. “Are y’all spendin’ the weekend?” she asked.

“Oh, lord no,” my mother laughed. “We’re all leaving for home today.”

Clarabell’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “Is that so?” she asked, topping off my father’s coffee. She telegraphed a look to me that asked if Scarlett was aware of this news.

“I’m not sure when I’m leaving,” I amended, not wanting the grapevine to get to Scarlett before I did. I wasn’t leaving if I could help her. If she needed me.

“Don’t be silly. Devlin is very busy as a state legislator,” Mom bragged to Clarabell.

“He’s certainly kept busy this summer,” she said. I caught the veiled criticism loud and clear. “Do y’all know Judge Kendall?” she asked, swinging her coffee pot in the direction of an older gentleman in the corner who looked like he was dressed for a tennis match. “He’s a district court judge.”

My father looked interested. He lived for networking, collecting connections like some did stamps or shot glasses. “I believe we’ve crossed paths in Annapolis.” I gave it thirty seconds before he decided to wander over to introduce himself.

If Judge Kendall was enjoying a diner breakfast, he hadn’t been notified of a break in his daughter’s case. It was only a matter of time.

“Well, give us a holler if you need anythin’,” Clarabell said and bustled away. I winced when I saw her fish her cell phone out of her apron pocket.

“It’s like they’re speaking a different language here,” Mom whispered.

“Come on, son,” Dad wiped his mouth on his napkin. “Let’s go introduce ourselves to the judge.”

“Dad, let him eat,” I said. “His wife just died, and his daughter went missing here—”

“That’s why he sounds so familiar,” my mom gasped. “His daughter was kidnapped or murdered or something. That happened here?” She looked around the diner as if expecting to see the guilty party plopped down at the table next to us.

Allowing the man to enjoy a peaceful last breakfast before discovering new evidence had been uncovered in his daughter’s disappearance was reason enough to leave him alone.

“Come on, Devlin. He won’t mind,” my father insisted.

I suppose it was morbid curiosity that had me following my father to the man’s table. I saw his immediate future, and it would be a painful one after what I could only assume was a painful past.

He had thinning gray hair that he combed neatly over his head. He wore wire rimmed spectacles and a white polo shirt. His watch was expensive. His breakfast was sensible.

“Excuse me, Judge Kendall?” my father said, interjecting himself into the man’s breakfast.

“Yes?” He looked up with a hint of resignation as if he was used to being interrupted. The honorable judge, tired of his people. I wanted to leave him alone, leave him to the last peaceful breakfast he’d have for a long time.

“I wanted to stop by and say hello. I’m Thomas McCallister, and this is my son, Devlin. We met a few years ago at a gala for the Maryland State Historical Society.” My father’s mind was a meticulously organized filing cabinet of people, events, and connections.

“Ah, of course.” The judge warmed slightly, slipping smoothly into political mode. Only other insiders would notice the lack of sincerity in the man’s polite smile. He offered his hand to my father, and they shook. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Devlin is in the state legislature,” my father explained. They were making small talk, discussing mutual friends, when the bells on the diner door chimed and Scarlett strolled in. She was wearing ripped up cutoffs and one of those damned tank tops that hugged her curves. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail. She looked every inch the beautiful girl next door.

Our gazes met, and I saw a dozen emotions flit across her face. When her eyes scanned to my father and then Judge Kendall, she froze.