Tuesday, October 13
To say Camille is pissed I’m here is an understatement.
But there was no way I was missing out on this opportunity to talk to her. The last four days have been a nightmare. Sunday, everyone in the house was glued to the local news coverage of Ben’s death. And then hours later the police show up asking Shane and Eddie about the Mustang.
That was a terrifying moment.
And the fact that there hasn’t been an arrest made has us all on edge. Ben’s killer is still out there, and it’s easy to assume his murder is connected to his plans on Saturday. Plans that we knew about.
If I had any idea Ben was going to wind up dead that night, I never would have involved my friends.
It’s time to have a very frank conversation with Camille. And I’mbetting she’s not coming back to the bar anytime soon. I knew if I showed up here, she would have to talk to me.
Camille is standing near the row of sinks with her arms crossed in front of her when I push through the bathroom door. “You shouldn’t be here.” She’s angry but nervous too.
I glance at the two stalls and see the doors are open so we’re alone. For now. Someone else could walk in any minute.
“Well, obviously we need to talk!” I mirror her pose and expression so she knows I’m pissed too. “I’m freaking out!” And then I ask the one question that was important enough to risk coming here. “Was Ben killed while I was pretending to be you?”
Her face pales. “I…I don’t know. The police haven’t told us what time he died.” Then she seems to gather herself. “You really can’t be here.”
“What in the hell did you expect me to do? I haven’t heard from you.”
Camille steps closer. “I haven’t been alone long enough to take a deep breath much less drop by your bar. Do you have any idea what the last couple of days have been like for me?”
She looks wrecked, but I try to ignore that. That could all be for show. The waves of grief rolling off her right now could be fake. “Did you kill him?”
Her jaw drops slightly and she takes a step back, as if my question physically assaulted her. “No, I didn’t kill him! Is that what you think?”
“Whatelseam I supposed to think? The news keeps saying he was dead awhile before you found him Sunday morning, and you were hiding in your house until almost midnight on Saturday!”
She’s shaking her head. “No I wasn’t. He caught me right after somePI he uses sent him a picture of you dressed like me shopping in St. Francisville.”
This takes the fight out of me. “What?”
Camille won’t look at me.
“Did Ben know it was me instead of you in the picture?”
She nods.
And then my anger spikes. “Why didn’t you tell me when we switched cars at the gas station!” I start pacing around the small room. “Wait! Why did you let me finish out the day as you if we were busted?”
“Both of us were keeping things from each other. Or did you not have anything to do with your housemates bringing that Mustang over?”
Oh shit. I wasn’t expecting her to put that together.
My face must give me away, because her eyes narrow when she scolds me. “Then don’t sit here and yell at me for not telling you everything. We may not have trusted each other before but we are going to have to trust each other now. You and I did enough questionable shit on Saturday that it would be easy for the DA to pin this on one or both of us. Ben’s death is huge news, and there’s only so much my family can do.”
It feels like she’s leaving out a big part at the end of that sentence…there’s only so much her family can do to protecther. If I don’t keep my mouth shut about what we did, I have no doubt that I would become the sacrificial lamb, same as Paul.
“It won’t take much for someone to discover you weren’t in St. Francisville. We were just trying to make sure I’d pass an inspection if someone compared me to your driver’s license, not stand up to the scrutiny of a full investigation.”
She stares at me a long moment. “Then it seems we are very much inthis together. We just need to make sure there’s no reason anyone wants to dig too deep.” She turns around to the sink and flips the water on, wetting her fingers then pressing them against her face. She really doesn’t look good.
She takes a paper towel and dries her hands then turns back to me. “If we don’t panic, this will be over soon and we never have to see each other again. Ben is dead. I know you wanted answers, but whatever chance we had at getting them died with him.”
My shoulders jerk at her words. “So that’s it? What about Paul? Did you know there’s a video that shows the crash?”
