Chapter 25
Aubrey
AFTER THE ALIBI
To say Camille is pissed I’m here is an understatement.
But there was no way I was missing out on this opportunity to talk to her. The last four days have been a nightmare. Sunday, everyone in the house was glued to the local news coverage of Ben’s death. And then hours later the police show up asking Shane and Eddie about the Mustang.
That was a terrifying moment.
And the fact that there hasn’t been an arrest made has us all on edge. Ben’s killer is still out there, and it’s easy to assume his murder is connected to his plans on Saturday. Plans that we knew about.
If I had any idea Ben was going to wind up dead that night, I never would have involved my friends.
It’s time to have a very frank conversation with Camille. And I’m betting she’s not coming back to the bar anytime soon. I knew if I showed up here, she would have to talk to me.
Camille is standing near the row of sinks with her arms crossed in front of her when I push through the bathroom door. “You shouldn’t be here.” She’s angry but nervous too.
I glance at the two stalls and see the doors are open so we’re alone. For now. Someone else could walk in any minute.
“Well, obviously we need to talk!” I mirror her pose and expression so she knows I’m pissed too. “I’m freaking out!” And then I ask the one question that was important enough to risk coming here. “Was Ben killed while I was pretending to be you?”
Her face pales. “I…I don’t know. The police haven’t told us what time he died.” Then she seems to gather herself. “You really can’t be here.”
“What in the hell did you expect me to do? I haven’t heard from you.”
Camille steps closer. “I haven’t been alone long enough to take a deep breath much less drop by your bar. Do you have any idea what the last couple of days have been like for me?”
She looks wrecked, but I try to ignore that. That could all be for show. The waves of grief rolling off her right now could be fake. “Did you kill him?”
Her jaw drops slightly and she takes a step back, as if my question physically assaulted her. “No, I didn’t kill him! Is that what you think?”
“What else am I supposed to think? The news keeps saying he was dead awhile before you found him Sunday morning, and you were hiding in your house until almost midnight on Saturday!”
She’s shaking her head. “No I wasn’t. He caught me right after some PI he uses sent him a picture of you dressed like me shopping in St. Francisville.”
This takes the fight out of me. “What?”
Camille won’t look at me.
“Did Ben know it was me instead of you in the picture?”
She nods.
And then my anger spikes. “Why didn’t you tell me when we switched cars at the gas station!” I start pacing around the small room. “Wait! Why did you let me finish out the day as you if we were busted?”
“Both of us were keeping things from each other. Or did you not have anything to do with your housemates bringing that Mustang over?”
Oh shit. I wasn’t expecting her to put that together.
My face must give me away, because her eyes narrow when she scolds me.
“Then don’t sit here and yell at me for not telling you everything.
We may not have trusted each other before but we are going to have to trust each other now.
You and I did enough questionable shit on Saturday that it would be easy for the DA to pin this on one or both of us.
Ben’s death is huge news, and there’s only so much my family can do. ”
It feels like she’s leaving out a big part at the end of that sentence…there’s only so much her family can do to protect her. If I don’t keep my mouth shut about what we did, I have no doubt that I would become the sacrificial lamb, same as Paul.
“It won’t take much for someone to discover you weren’t in St. Francisville. We were just trying to make sure I’d pass an inspection if someone compared me to your driver’s license, not stand up to the scrutiny of a full investigation.”
She stares at me a long moment. “Then it seems we are very much in this together. We just need to make sure there’s no reason anyone wants to dig too deep.” She turns around to the sink and flips the water on, wetting her fingers then pressing them against her face. She really doesn’t look good.
She takes a paper towel and dries her hands then turns back to me. “If we don’t panic, this will be over soon and we never have to see each other again. Ben is dead. I know you wanted answers, but whatever chance we had at getting them died with him.”
My shoulders jerk at her words. “So that’s it? What about Paul? Did you know there’s a video that shows the crash?”
Camille flinches, but I can’t read her well enough to know if this is new information or not.
I push on. “I still want to see it. See the moment my parents were killed even if the man who did it is dead!”
She steps forward. “I don’t know anything about a video! And we don’t know for sure if he had anything to do with that accident. My husband is dead. My life is a fucking disaster right now. I’m sorry if I can’t think past that!”
Our raised voices cease immediately when the door opens. We turn away from each other, taking a few steps in opposite directions. An elderly woman walks in and zeroes in on Camille.
“How are you holding up, sweetie?”
Camille pulls herself together. “Hanging in there.” Her features are strained and she looks shaky.
I walk to the sink and start washing my hands so I have something to do as the woman shares a story about Ben when he was a little boy.
By the time I’m drying my hands, the woman has entered one of the stalls.
Camille steps close enough to whisper in my ear.
“I will call you at the bar in a few days to check in but I need to get back out there and you need to leave.”
She spins on her high heels and exits the bathroom. I’m only a few steps behind her. I watch as she takes her place back in line as I make my way toward the exit.
But I stop cold when I see him.
The guy standing next to her, dressed in a suit, in the line greeting people like he’s family. A blond woman is on his other side, her hand clutching his arm as she dries her tears with a tissue.
He must feel me watching him because his eyes meet mine from across the room.
It’s him.
The guy I sat next to at Chantilly’s on Saturday night.
The guy who flirted with me and asked me to dance.
The guy who is clearly related in some way to Camille Bayliss.
I send a text to the house group chat the second I’m on the bus headed home.
911 meeting. Will be home in 20 mins
Deacon calls as soon as he sees it. “What’s going on?”
“Okay, I know you told me not to go to that Rosary but I did. I had to talk to her. And you’re never going to believe this!
That guy I talked to at Chantilly’s…he was there!
Standing right next to her in the receiving line.
” Several other passengers have turned around and are staring at me so I drop my voice to a whisper. “Do you think she set me up somehow?”
“Shit. I don’t know. Where are you right now?”
“On the bus.”
“Aub, I would have taken you.”
“No, you wouldn’t have, because you told me not to go. I’ll be home in a few minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll see you there.”
We end the call and I’m shaking by the time I get off at my stop. Luckily, it’s only a two-block walk to our house.
When I come through the kitchen door, everyone is here. Deacon pulls out the chair next to him, indicating I sit there.
“I talked to Camille in the bathroom at the Rosary for Ben. He found out she was hiding in the house Saturday afternoon. Someone sent Ben a picture of me dressed up like Camille, shopping.” I look at Deacon.
“I think it was that PI who was helping us.” I’m gripping the edge of the table so hard my knuckles turn white.
“That son of a bitch,” Deacon says, his fist pounding the table. “Tell me what she said.”
I fill him in and he gets up from the table, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He walks in the other room to make a call. Pretty sure he’s about to have words with Vic.
Eddie drops down in the chair Deacon just vacated. “Look at some pictures I pulled up. See if you recognize the guy.”
Once I’m seated, he turns the phone to face me. The first image is a match. “That’s him.”
“Shit,” he mutters. “That’s her brother, Silas.”
“What!”
Shane is pacing next to the table. “What does that mean? That can’t be a coincidence.”
Serenity lets out an exasperated sigh. “Of course it’s not a coincidence.
Don’t be an idiot. Camille Bayliss offed her husband while Aubrey gave her a perfect alibi.
I bet the brother was there to solidify it.
” My mouth hangs open and she looks at me, confused.
“What? That’s what I would’ve done. That’s freaking rock solid. ”
I’m shaking my head. “I just talked to her. She’s a wreck. And she said she didn’t do it.”
Serenity laughs. “And you believed her? She wanted out of her marriage and boom, now she is.”
“Shit, you may be right,” Eddie says.
I sit up. “I didn’t cover for her so she could murder him!”
He points to his chest. “I know that’s not why.” Then he points at me. “You know that’s not why.” He gives me a look like the next sentence will be painful to say. “There’s a real good chance that’s why, though.”
Deacon walks back in, catching the end of our conversation. “It’s not the time for half-assed theories.”
“What did Vic say? Was he the one who sent the picture to Ben?” I ask Deacon as soon as he sits down on my other side.
He nods. “Yeah. Ben had him go check on Camille to make sure she was where she was supposed to be. Said she had been acting weird and he felt like she was up to something. Vic had no idea that wasn’t her. And since we didn’t share our plans with him, he wouldn’t have known he was screwing them up.”
I drop my head in my hands.
“He’s also freaking out,” Deacon adds. “He knows it’s only a matter of time before the cops come talk to him.”
Popping up, I ask, “Will he turn on us? Tell them what we were doing?” Because it will just make me look more guilty than I already do.
He shakes his head. “I just reminded him what will happen to him if he does.”
I twist my hands in the hem of my shirt while I take in everything he said.
“The thing is, I feel like Camille is way more exposed than I am. I had her phone. Her car. Her credit cards. That’s a lot of trust to put into someone.
Into me. Would she really do that if she planned on killing her husband?
And if she did, y’all know I screwed something up.
Got caught on surveillance video or something.
And then it will just look like I was helping her! ”
Shane tilts his head to the side. “Gotta agree with Aubrey. That’s a big risk to take.”
Deacon’s worry for me is clear on his face. “The problem is Ben’s dead and both of you went to great lengths to hide your actions that day. If it comes down to her word against yours, who is everyone going to believe?”
My stomach flips so quick I put my hand over my mouth because it feels like I’m about to puke. Of course they’ll believe her. And she has connections I don’t.
Deacon gets up and runs the dish towel under the faucet, then brings it back to me. “Put that on your throat.”
The coolness helps more than I thought it would.
“What do I do now?”
“Nothing,” Deacon says, and everyone nods in agreement. “You don’t say anything. You don’t talk to anyone. You said it yourself; his wife is more exposed than you are. We wait and see what happens.”
“She said she was going to reach out to me in a few days. Do I talk to her?”
Shane stops next to my chair. “Hell, no. In fact, run the other way if she tries to talk to you.”
The back door opens and we all turn toward it. It’s Serenity’s boyfriend, Frank. He seems surprised to see us all sitting here. “Shit, sorry.” Then he nods at Serenity. “I’ll wait for you in the truck.” Then he ducks out, shutting the door behind him.
She hops up from the table. “Gotta go. Someone fill me in on what I miss when I get back.”
I stare at her as she flounces out of the kitchen without a care in the world and wonder how she can be so calm. But I guess it’s not her neck on the line, it’s mine.
Shane and Eddie also take their leave, but they’re only going as far as the garage. Then it’s just Deacon and me at the table.
Deacon fumbles with his set of keys until he frees one from the ring. “I gotta get back to work too. Go up to my room, soak in my tub. I’ve heard you talk about it enough that I know you want to. I won’t be back for a couple of hours so it’ll just sit empty.”
“Are you serious? I can use it?”
Deacon moved in about six months after me into what would once have been considered the primary bedroom.
He saw the for rent sign when he came to “chat” with one of the neighbors.
It’s one of the units I would have loved to upgrade to…
the claw-foot bathtub alone made me think long and hard about the higher rent.
It worked out for the best, because otherwise Deacon wouldn’t have moved in, although that tub is completely wasted on him since there’s no way he can stretch out comfortably in it.
Deacon gives me a lopsided grin. “Of course you can use it. I’ll get you a key made so you can use it whenever you want.”
“This is so nice, thank you.” He’s close enough that I can lean forward and give him a quick hug.
He gets up and moves to the door but stops before he leaves. “I’ll be back in a bit. Call me if you need me.”
“I will.” I feel calmer now than I did when I first got home, but I know this respite will be short-lived.
Do I believe Camille killed her husband?
No, I really don’t.
But that doesn’t mean the police won’t set their sights on her…or me, if they find out what we did on Saturday.