It’s not the only handmade leather item I’ve gotten from Paul. He always included something with the letters he sent me.
I pick up the bookmark and then get up from the table, walking quickly to the exit. There’s a process to get out just like there was one to get in.
Finally, I’m on the bus heading back to the entrance. That was so much harder than I thought it would be. I may not have gotten all the answers I was looking for, but at least I know what’s supposedly floating around out there. For ten years I believed he was responsible for my parents’ deaths and now I’m not so sure.
Deacon is waiting for me right as I exit the visitors’ entrance. He pulls me in for a hug as I blink my tears away.
“You okay?”
I nod against his chest.
“Okay, let’s get out of here.”
He leads me to his car, and then we’re back on the road to St. Francisville. Lowering the visor, I start slicking my hair back in preparation for putting the wig and cap back on and fill him in on my visit. “It’s a surveillance video from a gas station.”
“With a clear shot of the driver?”
I shrug. “He made it sound like it was but I’m sure he hasn’t actually seen it. Also, Foster didn’t tell him who was driving. And Paul doesn’t know Foster’s dead.”
Deacon turns the radio down then leans back in his seat. “The best thing we’ve got going for us is no one knows that we’re aware of what Foster’s got in his safe, so it’s good Paul doesn’t know he’s dead. Fear of pissing Foster off is the only thing keeping Paul quiet right now.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“I got a text from Shane while you were in there. They were able to get the tracker on Ben’s Range Rover. So if he takes either that car or the Mustang to Foster’s, we’ll know it.”
I get the wig settled back in place and close the visor. “Okay, good.”
But Ben won’t be the only one who shows up to Foster’s house. Deacon plans on being there too.
“What if he doesn’t go there tonight like we think he will?” I ask, turning in my seat to face him.
“Plan B. We know he has the key and thanks to Shane and Eddie, we know we can get in his house. If he doesn’t go tonight, then we go take the key from Ben and get in the safe ourselves.”
I really hope it doesn’t come to that.
The trip to Angola felt like it took forever, but the ride back to St. Francisville goes by in a blink. We’re back at the feed store. Deacon pulls in the spot in the same corner of the lot where we all met up earlier and throws his car in park.
“I texted Serenity when we left Angola so she should be here any minute,” Deacon says. “You going to be all right here for the rest of the day?”
“Yeah, it’ll be easy. Just going to follow the rest of what she had planned for me to do today.”
“Don’t be afraid to bail if you need to. Don’t get in a bind for her.”
Reaching over, I squeeze his arm. “I’m worried about you. What if things don’t go the way you think they will when Ben goes to Foster’s?”
Deacon gives me a big smile. “Don’t worry about me. This is just regular Saturday-night work.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
He leans closer. “Seriously, don’t worry. He won’t be expecting me. We’re going to surprise him, take whatever he’s got, and be on our way.”
Serenity pulls up, which ends this discussion. I hop out of the car and meet her in front of Deacon’s vehicle.
“All good?” I ask her.
“Yeah, all good.” She gives me a hug and whispers, “Be safe and we’ll see you back at the house.”
I sit in the driver’s seat of Camille’s car and watch them pull away. Glancing at the clock, I calculate how much time until I meet up with Camille. It’s four p.m. so I only have eight hours to go. Nothing more than a shift at the bar.
