Chapter Fifteen
Maci
Sirens woke me up early on Friday. When I opened my eyes, red and blue lights slipped through the blinds and flashed across the walls, almost like a warning.
I sat up too fast, feeling dizzy and my heart racing. Zaire shifted next to me.
“What the hell,” he muttered, pushing himself up. “Are those police lights?”
I didn’t answer. I got out of bed and walked to the window. The street was packed with patrol cars. Three of them were right in front of Camille’s house.
The lights lit up every window on the block.
Zaire came over and stood beside me.
“Damn,” he said quietly. “It’s always something.”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “I see it.”
I pulled the curtain back a bit to get a better look. An unmarked SUV stopped behind the patrol cars.
Two detectives stood in the driveway, talking to a few curious neighbors. Another officer went inside carrying a black equipment case.
My phone kept buzzing on the nightstand. I picked it up.
Danielle: Is everyone seeing this??
Nia: Please tell me this isn’t about Camille.
Simone: I just heard her husband is dead.
I read the message, then said it out loud.
Zaire leaned over my shoulder. “Dead?”
Before I could say anything, another notification popped up.
Jade: Detective just knocked on my door. They said he was found late last night after a single-vehicle crash.
I frowned at my phone.
Zaire exhaled slowly. “Damn.”
Another message came in before I could put my phone down.
Simone: They’re saying it might not be an accident.
After that, the room felt different. I slipped my phone into my robe pocket, put it on, and went downstairs and out the front door. Zaire followed me.
Outside, voices carried through the morning air from all directions.
Snippets of conversation overlapped from across the street.
“I thought Camille was still at the hospital.”
“Someone found the car after midnight.”
Miss Evelyn was already outside, moving slowly down the sidewalk. She stopped beside us.
“You hear?” she asked.
“I just woke up to it,” I said.
She shook her head, eyes fixed on the flashing lights.
“Lord have mercy.”
Across the street, Camille stepped onto the porch. She looked like she hadn’t slept. The hospital bracelet was still on her wrist. Her makeup from last night was gone, and her eyes were swollen. Her skin looked dry in the harsh morning light.
Two detectives joined her on the porch. One held a small notebook, the other carried an evidence bag. I couldn’t hear much from where I stood, so we moved closer, hoping to catch some of the conversation. Miss Evelyn stood by Camille to show support.
Only pieces.
“Did you leave again?”
“I told you no. I came straight home.”
The detective wrote something down. Then another question.
“What about your security cameras?”
Camille's brow furrowed.
“They should show all that.”
“We looked, and they don’t.”
She blinked. “What do you mean they don’t?”
“The system stopped recording shortly after the ambulance arrived.”
She frowned, clearly confused.
“That’s impossible.”
The detective stayed silent.
“That’s what we’re trying to determine.”
More neighbors gathered, hanging back like there was actual police tape. People spoke quietly. Another detective came over, holding a sealed evidence bag.
There was a cellphone inside. He held it up a little.
“Mrs. Hayes, is this yours?”
Camille’s face lost its color.
“My phone, I couldn’t find it when I left for the hospital.”
“It was recovered near the crash site.”
The crowd murmured. Camille stared at the bag like it held something awful.
“I don’t understand what’s happening.”
“We’re hoping you can help us understand.”
She shook her head fast.
“I wasn’t there.”
The lead detective looked at his partner.
“We also spoke with employees at The Lantern Bar.”
Camille frowned. “The what?”
“A bartender remembers your husband meeting a woman shortly before he left.”
“I don’t know anything about that.”
“He described a woman similar to you.”
Camille let out a short, disbelieving laugh.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“The surveillance footage isn’t clear enough for an identification.”
“Because it wasn’t me.”
“The woman was approximately your height. She also purchased his drinks.”
“I was in the hospital.”
Her voice cracked.
“I was fighting to breathe.”
“Were you? You were stable upon arrival at the hospital thanks to your EpiPen.”
The detective stood his ground and closed his notebook.
“We’re simply trying to establish a timeline.”
“I’ve given you my entire timeline.”
“Can anyone verify it after you returned home?”
Camille started to speak, but nothing came out. She looked at all of us watching her.
“I was alone,” she said finally.
The detectives exchanged another look.
“I know how this looks,” she whispered, shaking her head. “But I didn’t kill my husband.”
Neither detective answered. One of them handed her a business card.
“If you remember anything else, call me.”
As they turned toward the driveway, another officer hurried over.
“Detective.”
He leaned in and spoke in a low voice. The detective nodded once.
Then he turned back to Camille.
I gripped my phone tighter.
Zaire exhaled beside me. “This is getting messy.”
“Yeah,” I said quietly.
“Very messy.”
Miss Evelyn sighed.
“They’re treating her like they know something she don’t.”
I watched Camille sit on her porch steps and bury her face in her hands. Neighbors drifted back inside. Their whispers lingered, and sympathy was already moving through the neighborhood.
◆◆◆
By lunchtime, the neighborhood was quiet again. The patrol cars had left.
The doorbell rang. When I opened the door, Danielle stood there with a bakery box, and Jade held two salads from the café by the neighborhood entrance.
"We figured you probably hadn't eaten," Danielle said.
"And honestly," Jade sighed. "None of us wanted to sit at home by ourselves."
Nia and Simone weren't far behind.
Soon, we were all gathered around my kitchen island, barely eating our lunch.
We sat together in silence, no music or TV, just our voices filling the room.
"I still can't believe he's gone," Simone whispered.
Danielle gave a small nod.
"I can't either."
Jade put her fork down on the table.
"The detective came back after y'all went inside this morning."
We all turned to Jade.
"He said Camille was released from the hospital just before midnight."
"That's what I heard too," Nia added.
"But if she came straight home," Danielle said with a frown, "how did her phone end up at the crash site?"
No one spoke. Jade rubbed her arms as if she was cold.
"And why weren't her cameras recording?"
"I've been in that house a hundred times," Simone said. "Those cameras never stop working, especially lately with everything happening."
"They said the bartender remembered seeing him with another woman," Nia added quietly.
Danielle shook her head slowly.
"But they think the woman was Camille."
"It doesn't even make sense."
"It doesn't," Jade agreed. "She was in the hospital."
I broke the silence.
"Maybe they're just following every lead."
Everyone looked at me.
"I mean," I said with a shrug, "if the evidence points that way, they have to check it out. That doesn't mean they're right."
Danielle nodded slowly.
"I don't believe she did it."
"Neither do I," Simone said without hesitation.
Jade leaned back in her chair, letting out a slow breath.
"Camille loved that man."
I found myself wondering if she really did.
"I hope they find whoever did this," I said out loud.
The kitchen fell silent. Outside, a news van rolled slowly past the house and parked across the street. Nia glanced out the window.
"Oh, Lord."
"They're going to eat her alive."
Nobody argued. Across the street, Camille's front door opened briefly so two detectives could slip inside before it shut again.
Had the neighborhood already chosen who to believe? Maybe they just wanted someone to blame. I let out a slow breath.
"Did she even have a reason to do something like that?" Simone asked quietly.
Danielle stayed quiet for a moment. She picked at her napkin, like the question was too much. Jade gave a quick, humorless laugh.
"These days people don’t even need reasons. They just need opportunity and a bad mood."
Nia glanced at her.
"That’s not fair."
"It’s not supposed to be fair," Jade said. "It’s supposed to be real."
Simone shook her head.
"I just don’t see Camille like that. She was always put together. You know, almost perfect."
"Put together doesn’t mean innocent," Jade muttered.
The table fell silent again. I leaned back and watched everyone think, each person trying to figure out Camille in their own way.
Then I spoke, keeping my voice steady, like I was just thinking out loud.
"I mean, we all know how things are around here. The secrets, the favors, how people help each other out when it suits them."
Danielle frowned.
"Maci…"
I held up a hand.
"I’m not pointing fingers. I’m just saying people don’t always follow the same rules as everyone else."
Jade’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"What are you saying exactly?"
"I’m saying, if Camille needed something taken care of or wanted something gone, why wouldn’t she do it herself? Why wouldn’t she know how to make it work?"
The kitchen went quiet. Nia blinked.
"That’s a big assumption."
"It’s not an assumption," I said softly. "It’s just… observation."
Simone shifted in her seat, looking uneasy.
"But that still doesn’t mean she did it."
"I didn’t say it did," I said quickly. "I just think people are acting like she couldn’t possibly do something like that."
Danielle let out a slow breath.
"So you think she’s involved?"
I hesitated, wanting to be truthful but careful not to reveal too much.
"I think there’s more to her than we realize."
Jade pushed her plate aside.
"That’s not the same as murder."
"No," I said. "It’s not."
No one picked up their forks again. Outside, the news van’s camera kept recording.
Across the street, Camille’s house stayed quiet, almost like it was holding its breath along with us.