I’m chewing on my bottom lip as I consider what he’s saying. “This is too easy. Too perfectly wrapped up. As if you’ve already known all of this before now and had time to work it out.”
“It works because it is pretty damn close to the truth. We’re just putting Sullivan in the driver’s seat of that truck.” He’s frustrated I’m questioning this, questioning him.
“And no one ever finds out your wife killed my parents.”
Silas leans forward, his arms resting on the table. “I will deal with Margaret, but not publicly. And that’s going to have to be okay.” Then he nods toward Deacon but keeps his eyes on me. “That’s the only way I can make sure Deacon doesn’t go to jail for killing a cop. If it comes out Margaret is involved, I can’t help you.”
My anger starts to rise about the fact that he’d put conditions on helping us, that my lie will protect his wife after what she did to my parents, but then I look at Deacon and I know I’m not willing to risk his freedom. Letting the world know who killed my parents doesn’t bring them back.
“You think that’s all it will take? Me telling the cops Foster told me his nephew was driving Paul’s truck.”
He nods. “Yes. You were the last loose end Sullivan needed to tie up after killing Ben. He tried to silence you. But thankfully, Deacon showed up in time to protect you.”
Deacon pulls me close, whispering in my ear, “Don’t agree to anything you don’t want to. We didn’t do anything wrong. Iwasprotecting you. We can get through this without Silas’s help.”
I pull back so I can look at him and cup my hands around his face, kissing him softly. “I love that you are giving me that option. And thank you for saving me. Now it’s my turn to save you.” I turn to face Silas. Lines you couldn’t imagine crossing disappear when someone you love is at risk. I will do whatever it takes to protect Deacon like he protected me. “You have a deal as long as it keeps Deacon out of trouble.”
Chapter 41
Camille
AFTER THE ALIBI
Monday, October 19
The doorbell rings and Hank gets up from his makeshift desk on the kitchen table. We’re at his house and he’ll work from here the next few days while I’m recuperating on his sofa a few feet away. I was released from the hospital this afternoon to Hank’s care and he offered for us to stay at my house, thinking I’d be more comfortable in my own bed, but when I said I was never going back there, I meant it. In fact, I told him to put it up for sale the second Ben’s estate is settled.
Hank has gone above and beyond to make sure I feel not only comfortable but safe, and I’d be blind not to notice his feelings run deeper than friendship. But that’s not a conversation or a situation I’m ready for, and he seems to understand that as well. He knows I need a friend more than anything else and he seems happy to fill that role.
Hank comes back in the room with Silas right behind him.
“How’s the patient?” Silas sits in the chair next to the couch and hands me a white paper bag. “Brought you some of those macaroons you like.”
“Thank you. I’m just glad to be out of the hospital. Hank is an excellent nurse even if he’s following those protocols a little too closely.”
Hank laughs. “You’re not getting any extra screen time no matter how bratty you act.”
Silas tries to smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks stressed.
“What happened?”
He takes a deep breath and runs a hand over his face. “There was an incident today at Aubrey’s. It’s just about to hit the news so I wanted to come over and tell you both about what happened.” He looks pointedly at Hank. “Do we need to sign some shit to make it formal so this is covered under attorney-client privilege?”
“I think we’re pretty far past that. To make it official, you’re my newest client. Welcome to Bayliss and Landry Law Firm. Consider yourself covered.”
He nods, then says, “Detective Sullivan is dead. Deacon killed him protecting Aubrey.”
“What!” I sit up so fast a sharp pain slashes through my head.
Hank moves next to me on the couch. “No sudden movements like that. Lean back.”
Once he gets me settled again, he looks at Silas. “Start at the beginning.”
And he does. Hank and I are speechless as we take in everything Silas tells us. By the time he’s done, Hank is slumped next to me as if the weight of what he just learned is too heavy to bear.
“You didn’t know Sullivan back then?” I ask.
“No, but I was only there a couple of times since I spent most of the summer working on that ranch in Texas.”
