“It’s one of those prepaid phones.” My voice cracks. “I’m in trouble and I don’t know what to do.”
“You did the right thing. You called your family. What’s going on?”
A sob escapes me and it takes a few seconds before I can find my voice. “It’s Ben. He caught me spying on him and he freaked out.”
“Tell me everything.”
So I do.
Chapter 24
Hank
AFTER THE ALIBI
Tuesday, October 13
I make it to the church for the Rosary for Ben with a few minutes to spare.
It would be easier to just slide into one of the pews in the back, but I know I need to be up front, close to the family. There are more people here than I expected, and my steps echo as I make the long walk down the center aisle. It wouldn’t surprise me if half the people attending this are here for the gossip and to get a close-up look at the recently widowed Camille Bayliss.
I spot her in the first row, flanked by Ben’s family on one side and hers on the other.
A hand flies up from the third row and I see Lila there, waving me down. “Saved you a seat,” she says to me. I slide in past a few guys I know Ben played golf with so I can sit next to her. Tricia and the rest of our employees are scattered throughout the pews behind us.
“You’re almost late,” she says in my ear.
“Almost doesn’t count,” I reply back.
She hands me her phone with the Notes app open. “Here’s what you’ve got going on tomorrow.”
I skim the list, prepared for any other bombs that are ready to explode. There’s the formal interview with Camille and Detective Sullivan, then an appointment with Judge Whittaker. He wants to talk about Ben’s trial that was supposed to start tomorrow. Apparently it had already been postponed three times and the judge wants a new date set immediately.
I finish reading the rest of it then give Lila her phone back. “Can you send that to me?”
“I already shared it with you in a text. Just open it up and accept it. I’ll update it as needed and you can add notes back to me. Figured this may be easier since your phone hasn’t stopped.”
She’s right. I’m buried in notifications.
When Lila first started working for me, I was a little worried about the dynamics. She was young and attractive, and it didn’t take long before I was depending on her for just about everything since she did such a damn good job of keeping me on task. We’re a good team, but thankfully there was absolutely no spark or chemistry between us. In fact, most days I feel like she could have outdone my mother with the mothering.
“Thanks, Lila,” I whisper. “For everything.”
She nudges me with her elbow. “Don’t make me cry. I just redid my makeup.”
The priest enters from the sacristy and walks to the pulpit. The murmurs die down as he adjusts the mic.
“Good evening, everyone. I know I speak for the entire Bayliss familywhen I say it means so much that you all are here to pray for Benjamin.” His words echo through the sanctuary. “His wife, Camille, and his mom, Suzanne, as well as the rest of the family, are comforted by the outpouring of love and support they have received. Before we get started, I just want to say that Benjamin was a special person. No matter how busy he was, I always knew I could count on him if we, here at the cathedral, needed anything. Whether it was serving on the church board or providing members of the congregation legal help when they needed it but didn’t have the funds to pay him. He will be missed by many, and I, for one, am close to the top of that list.”
He makes the sign of the cross and begins praying the Rosary. Even though his voice is projected through the space by the speakers set in the rafters, he’s almost drowned out by the swell of the crowd praying aloud with him.
I’m Catholic, but not a particularly good one. My mom is probably rolling over in her grave knowing Mass on Christmas and Easter are about the only two I manage to make. But no matter how long it’s been, I know all the prayers without having to think about it. I sit back and let the words being spoken swirl around me, adding my voice to the others. By the time they hit the third Hail Mary, the cadence of the prayers becomes almost hypnotic, the same words being repeated over and over in a somber rhythm.
The setting sun bathes the room in red and green and yellow as it filters through the stained glass windows. The tall stone walls manage to keep the interior of the church cool. Refreshing. It feels like an oasis from the heat and humidity still plaguing the city this deep into fall.
The priest’s words replay in my mind against the backdrop of the murmured prayers. It’s obvious when a person doesn’t really know thedeceased, just relies on the information passed along by the family, but that’s not the case here. This priest knew Ben well since he was a much better Catholic than I ever thought of being. What Father said about him was true but also exaggerated. We found half a dozen active cases that were flagged with a reference back to this very church, but Ben wasn’t handling them for free. In all of them, there’s a trade. In exchange for legal services, Ben received things like a full year of lawn-care service, two new sets of tires, and free haircuts. That poor woman would have had to cut his hair for a decade for them to be even.
Ben rarely did anything for free.
