Chapter 23
Camille
The Alibi
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
Ben pushes away from the wall he was leaning against and moves closer. I’m still on the ground so I scramble back until I bump into the bookcase. The overturned chair is still on the floor between us.
He stops suddenly. “Obviously, we have a problem.”
It’s not a question so I don’t answer him.
“Get off the floor.” He offers me his hand and I hesitate taking it. He doesn’t move, just stands there with it outstretched, waiting for me to allow him to help me up. I’m back on my feet within seconds and pulling my hand from his just as quickly.
“I was going to call and tell you I was coming home. I just started feeling sick and wanted my own bed.” My mind is spinning.
He cocks his head to the side and arches one brow. He pulls out his phone and turns the screen toward me. “Then who is shopping in St. Francisville using your credit card and driving your car while in possession of your phone?”
It’s Aubrey in the wig. She’s standing in front of a register, holding a framed print of pressed fern leaves.
The image is mostly from behind but you get a bit of profile in the picture.
Someone who didn’t know me so well might believe it was me, but it would be obvious to Ben that it’s not.
I’m not telling him anything. He would lose his shit if he knew it was Aubrey.
“Honestly, I was a little stumped when I got this picture. If your phone and car were in St. Francisville, where the hell were you? Then I checked the location of your other devices,” he says, nodding to the iPad clutched under my arm. “Imagine my surprise when that little blue dot popped up here.”
I don’t say anything. Just stand there, frozen. I didn’t think he could track that.
I’m dumb. So, so dumb.
Ben bends down and picks up the cameras I dropped when I fell off the chair. “What are these?”
I start shaking. Ben has never been physically abusive but I’m terrified about what he’s going to do to me when he finds out what I’ve gotten on record today.
His expression changes when he realizes what they are. “How many more are in the house right now?”
“A…a couple more.”
His brow creases. “Show me each and every one.”
Ben follows closely behind me while I move to the front door. I don’t dare look at him when I pull the small camera out of the potted plant on the front porch, giving me a clear view of the driveway.
“What the fuck, Camille!”
I turn around and hold the camera out to him. He snatches it out of my palm. “Did these upload to the cloud?”
Shaking my head, I say, “No. Just an internal memory card.”
He moves to the kitchen and grabs one of those cooler bags he uses for drinks when he plays golf, shoving all three cameras inside. “Where are the rest?”
It’s deathly quiet as we go from room to room collecting cameras. I don’t know why I’m giving myself up like this other than the fear of what would happen if he found them on his own.
“This it?” He shakes the now full bag in front of me, making the cameras rattle as they bounce off one another.
He throws the bag on the counter and points to the stool where Margaret was sitting just half an hour ago. “I’m not sitting there.” I move to the small kitchen table and drop down in the nearest chair.
He opens the back of each camera and pulls out the memory cards.
They’re tiny, smaller than my thumbnail, and I watch as he moves to the kitchen sink and turns on the faucet, throwing the cards in so they’ll wash down the drain.
Then he turns on the garbage disposal for good measure.
The sound of grinding metal fills the room.
He finally joins me, sitting in the chair next to me. He looks calm, but it’s deceiving. Under that facade, he’s boiling right now. “You’ve gone to great effort to make sure I wasn’t aware you were in the house. That I wouldn’t know you were filming me. Why?”
I’m not going to let him turn this on me. I may be terrified but I’m also pissed, so I dig into that feeling. Let that emotion rise to the surface. “You’ve gone to great effort to make sure I thought you were still in New Orleans. Why?”
He leans closer, leaving only a few inches between us. His mouth twists into a smile. “I like seeing you mad at me right now. Better than the pouty brat you’ve been lately.”
What the hell? Does he think this is some game?
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He gets up and leans over me. His hands are on the arms of my chair, caging me in.
“Sure you do. You’ve been extremely difficult to live with the last few months.
Moody. Lashing out at me then giving me the silent treatment.
So tell me. What could you possibly have to be pissed off about?
Say what you want to say. I know it’s been killing you. ”
I shove his chest, causing him to rock back slightly, but he stays in place.
He’s goading me, putting me on the defensive, pushing all my buttons.
He wants to know what I know. What I heard.
What I learned today and what I came in knowing.
And for some reason I can’t stop myself from reacting the exact way he wants me to.
“Was I included in the deal you made with Dad to cover for Silas? In exchange for an alibi, were you guaranteed a wife?”
His face drops and he takes a step back. “You have no idea what I’ve done for your family. For your brother. I’ve done everything they’ve wanted me to for years.” He holds his hands out wide. “I’ve made sure you’ve had a charmed life and you repay me by creeping around the house, spying on me.”
I stand up from the chair, sending it sliding backward until it hits the wall. “It seems more like my father is the one who has made sure you’ve led a charmed life. It’s clear you would never have been this successful without his help.”
We stare at each other. He presses his lips together as if he’s trying to hold his words in. Finally, he asks, “Why are you here, spying on me? You’ve been blissfully unaware for fucking years. Happy to take what is given to you and keep your head buried in the sand. So what changed?”
It’s the second time he’s said that about me.
“Keep my head buried in the sand?” A ragged cry escapes me before I can stop it.
“I knew you were up to something. I just didn’t know what it was.
” I’m not ready for him to know Aubrey is involved because I’m not sure how he will react to that.
I’m just praying he doesn’t recognize her in that picture he just showed me.
He lets out a shocked bark of laughter. “Holy shit. All this because you thought I was ‘up to something.’ How fucking ridiculous. And what were you going to do? Divorce me? Because that’s not happening.”
“You can’t stop me from divorcing you! I don’t care what dirty work you’ve done for my dad or Silas! I’ve learned enough to know I don’t want to be married to you anymore.”
He shakes his head and softens his features.
“What do you think you learned today? You heard Margaret and me talk about something that happened a decade ago. That I did what your father asked to protect your brother. And will you tell someone what I did? Will you tell them what Silas did?” I flinch at his words.
“You can leave me but you’ll be leaving with a lot less than you came to this marriage with, thanks to the prenup you signed.
And I can guarantee you, your dad will be on my side of this instead of yours, since I’m one of the only people who could send his prodigal son to prison. ”
I’m shaking when he takes a step forward.
His right hand takes my left. “And where are you going to go, Camille? Back home to Corbeau? All I’m trying to do is to get out from under your dad.
Same thing I’ve been trying to do for years.
Just like we talked about. You assumed the worst of me so everything you saw and heard was twisted in a way to make it true.
We still want the same things. For your dad to be out of our lives. That’s all I’m trying to do.”
I’m starting to doubt myself, but I try to remember he’s a master at this. “No, you’re twisting this around.”
“I’m not twisting anything. You assigned your own thoughts and feelings to my actions. You made it about you, not me.”
What is happening? He’s trying to make me feel guilty and it’s seriously working.
I don’t know what to believe, and that’s the worst part.
He moves another step closer. “I’ve already put plans in place that will change everything.
Free us both from the noose your dad put around my neck all those years ago.
We can figure this out. Find a way to make things work again.
I know how much you don’t want people talking about you.
About us. About your family. You just need to trust me like you used to.
Trust me like I trust you. It kills me your faith in me has fallen so low.
All I’ve ever wanted was to take care of you. To give you the life you deserve.”
He’s turning this on me, making me the bad guy.
Am I the bad guy?
I realize I’m letting him control this conversation like I always do. He’s good at working people…his clients, the jury, anyone he encounters.
“I’m leaving.” I start moving to the kitchen door.
He’s one step behind me. “Who is helping you? Who is this woman?”
I spin around and see that he’s got that picture back up on his phone. “Who sent you that picture? What were you trying to catch me doing?”
His face turns red. He absolutely hates that I spied on him. That I know everything he did here today but he doesn’t know what I did, who I’ve got helping me. I’m sure his mind is racing as it goes through the day minute by minute so he can determine just how much I know.
Ben stares at the picture then glances back in the direction of his office then to me.
I start for the door again but he grabs my arm.
He’s pulling me out of the kitchen and across the foyer until we’re back in his office.
We’re beside his desk, where I see a picture of Aubrey Price in the open file.
He lets go of me so he can pick up the image of her.
When he’s got both pictures side by side, it’s clear who is helping me today.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” His eyes bore into me. “Of all people, why is Aubrey Price pretending to be you?”
Oh shit. The vein in his forehead is bulging.
I don’t answer. I don’t open my mouth.
“You have no idea what you’ve done.” He flings both the printed picture and his phone on his desk. “This shit is on you now.” Ben takes a step away. He’s backing away from me. “You can answer to your dad about why you pulled her into this.”
And this scares me more than anything else.
I don’t waste time trying to figure out what he means, I bolt for the door and run back to where the Honda is parked.
Once I’m inside the car, I let out a scream. My hands are shaking and I feel like I’m going to throw up again. Tears are streaming down my face.
What have I done?
I grab the plastic bag from the back seat and pull out the prepaid phone I bought from Target, powering it on.
I figured there might be a time I’d need a phone and wouldn’t have one since Aubrey would have mine.
I make a call I don’t really want to make, but I don’t feel like I have any other choice. My brother answers on the second ring.
“Hello.”
“Si, it’s me. Cam.”
He hesitates a moment then says, “Whose number is this?”
“It’s one of those prepaid phones.” My voice cracks. “I’m in trouble and I don’t know what to do.”
“You did the right thing. You called your family. What’s going on?”
A sob escapes me and it takes a few seconds before I can find my voice. “It’s Ben. He caught me spying on him and he freaked out.”
“Tell me everything.”
So I do.