I’m shaking my head before he finishes his question. I give him a quick glance then say, “I needed to laugh more than you know, so thank you.”
I make my way to the door in slow, steady steps. The second I’m outside, I strip off the heels and run to the car.
Once I’m inside, I crank the engine and stare at the clock on the dash as I idle in the parking lot. A couple stumbles into the passenger-side door, startling me enough that I let out a startled cry. The guy is pressing the girl right against the window, and his hands are pushing up the back of her shirt. This cannot be happening right now. I knock on the glass loudly, spooking them like they did me. They both lean down to look inside the car then give drunken waves before finding another spot to continue their make-out session.
Stopping here for a drink was really not a great idea. I put the car in drive. This won’t be my problem for much longer.
Chapter 2
Aubrey
THE ALIBI
Saturday, October 10
At this hour, it’s a quick drive back to the gas station, the same one I stopped at just twelve hours ago on my way into town. The foggy mist that has settled around town distorts the glow of the neon lights that edge the overhang above the gas pumps, giving the night an eerie feel. My time at Chantilly’s was a nice distraction, but the unease I’ve had most of the day is back. I grab the plastic bag from the passenger seat, drop the phone inside, then hop out of the car.
It’s more crowded than I thought it would be given the hour and the size of this town. The haze plays tricks on my eyes as strangers seemingly slip in and out of existence as they step into the darkness.
The bright fluorescent lights are a shock when I step inside the store, causing me to squint as I make my way to the small public bathroom.
I must have beat her here.
Once I’ve dropped the plastic bag on the closed toilet lid, I pull the lever on the towel dispenser next to the sink until I have five or six sheets. Carefully, I form a small square pattern big enough for me to stand on so I’m not barefoot on the dirty floor.
It’s a juggling act to change from the dress and heels to a graphic tee, joggers, and flip-flops, but I manage it without moving from my paper towel island.
I run one hand down the long light-brown hair before I pull off the wig and cap, causing my own nearly black hair to fall into place just above my shoulders. The dress, shoes, and wig go back in the bag. As soon as everything is packed away, there’s a soft knock on the door.
Opening it slowly, I peek outside.
Here she is. Camille Bayliss.
It’s a tight squeeze, but we both manage to fit inside.
And now the question I’ve been dying to ask all day. “How’d it go?”
“Not the way we hoped.”
My head tilts as I study her. “If not the way we hoped, which way was it?”
Her lips purse as she considers how to answer me. “I was unsuccessful.”
Before I can question her further, she asks, “What about with you? Any problems?”
“All good on my end.” I pause, then add, “You didn’t find anything?”
She shakes her head but offers no other excuse or explanation.
There’s so much neither of us is saying, and we both know it.
I rock back and forth on my feet. This space is too small for this conversation. “What happens now?”
Camille takes a deep breath. “We’ll try again. Just need to figure out when.”
She’s lying. I can see it on her face. Something changed for her today, and I wish I knew what it was.
“Here,” I say, holding the plastic bag and purse out to her. I have no desire to keep the dress and heels even though I’m sure she doesn’t want the clothes back. She takes them both, then holds out her right hand, but I don’t know what else she wants from me.
