But it wasn’t just the year, or the fact that the ticket had been issued in July. Callie Kendall had gone missing on July twelfth, and this ticket was dated just three days afterward.
Given the fact that Callie’s sweater had turned up here, in our dad’s house, raising suspicions about his possible involvement in her alleged murder, this was probably important.
I brought it out to the living room. “Hey, y’all. Come look at this.”
Scarlett and Jonah came from the kitchen, and Bowie walked down the stairs. I stuck my head in the garage and told Gibs to come on inside for a minute.
“What’d you find?” Bowie asked, gesturing to the brittle paper in my hand.
“It’s an old speeding ticket,” I said. “But there’s something odd about it. It’s got dad’s name on it, but it’s from New York state.”
“When was Dad up there?” Bowie asked.
“Well, according to this, three days after Callie Kendall disappeared,” I said.
A hush settled over the room, like none of us were even breathing.
“All right,” Bowie said, putting his hands on his hips. “Maybe this tells us something.”
“Tells us what?” Gibson asked. “That he got caught speeding? He was probably drunk.”
“Stop it, Gibs,” Scarlett said. “You’re not helping.”
“Didn’t Dad leave for a few days after Callie went missing?” I asked. “Do y’all remember that?”
“He did,” Bowie said. “I don’t remember if Mom said why, but she told us he’d be gone a few days.”
“You’re right,” Scarlett said. “I’d forgotten, but I remember being mad. I wanted him to stay and help look for Callie.”
I thought back on what had happened in the wake of Callie’s disappearance. It had been tense and confusing. Mostly I remembered trying to stay out of everyone’s way. And then finding out that Leah Mae’s mom was coming to fetch her home to Florida. I’d felt guilty at the time that Leah Mae leaving had hit me harder than Callie’s disappearance. But I’d been crushed when she’d had to leave.
“It was something about his cousin in North Carolina,” Gibson said. He shrugged, like it didn’t matter. “House flooded. Dad drove out there to help them fix it so they could move back in.”
I held up the ticket. “But if Dad was in North Carolina helping his cousin, how was he in New York getting a speeding ticket?”
Bowie took the ticket and looked it over. I met Gibson’s eyes, and I knew we were both wondering the same thing. What if Dad had taken Callie’s body somewhere to get rid of it?
“I don’t know what this means,” Bowie said, his eyes on the paper. “But it’s not a coincidence.”
“There’s too much we don’t know,” Scarlett said. “Why he was gone. Whether Mama knew where he really went. Everyone who knew anything is dead.”
“And it’s not like the police are giving us any information,” Bowie said.
Gibson rolled his eyes. “Y’all can play CSI West Virginia on your own time. I’m getting back to work.” He stalked off to the garage, letting the door bang shut behind him.
“What do you think?” I asked Jonah, meeting his eyes.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I wasn’t around for any of this. But looking at it from the outside, it’s suspicious. The timing, and the story you were told about him going to North Carolina. This isn’t just in another place, it’s in the opposite direction. If he’d gone help his cousin, why would he have been hundreds of miles away?”
Scarlett groaned. “I swear, this mess keeps gettin’ worse. I think I need to be done here for today.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “Do you think this is something we need to show to the police? For the investigation?”
“It should be on his driving record, so I’d think they’d already know,” Bowie said. “But I can run it by Jayme. Want me to hang onto it?”
“Sure.” I handed the ticket to Bowie.
“Y’all mind if I take some of the boxes home with me?” I asked. “That way we can get this place cleaned out faster, and I can go through more of his stuff later.”