Camille flinches, but I can’t read her well enough to know if this is new information or not.
I push on. “I still want to see it. See the moment my parents were killed even if the man who did it is dead!”
She steps forward. “I don’t know anything about a video! And we don’t know for sure if he had anything to do with that accident. My husband is dead. My life is a fucking disaster right now. I’m sorry if I can’t think past that!”
Our raised voices cease immediately when the door opens. We turn away from each other, taking a few steps in opposite directions. An elderly woman walks in and zeroes in on Camille.
“How are you holding up, sweetie?”
Camille pulls herself together. “Hanging in there.” Her features are strained and she looks shaky.
I walk to the sink and start washing my hands so I have something to do as the woman shares a story about Ben when he was a little boy. By the time I’m drying my hands, the woman has entered one of the stalls.Camille steps close enough to whisper in my ear. “I will call you at the bar in a few days to check in but I need to get back out there and you need to leave.”
She spins on her high heels and exits the bathroom. I’m only a few steps behind her. I watch as she takes her place back in line as I make my way toward the exit.
But I stop cold when I see him.
The guy standing next to her, dressed in a suit, in the line greeting people like he’s family. A blond woman is on his other side, her hand clutching his arm as she dries her tears with a tissue.
He must feel me watching him because his eyes meet mine from across the room.
It’s him.
The guy I sat next to at Chantilly’s on Saturday night.
The guy who flirted with me and asked me to dance.
The guy who is clearly related in some way to Camille Bayliss.
I send a text to the house group chat the second I’m on the bus headed home.
911 meeting. Will be home in 20 mins
Deacon calls as soon as he sees it. “What’s going on?”
“Okay, I know you told me not to go to that Rosary but I did. I had totalk to her. And you’re never going to believe this! That guy I talked to at Chantilly’s…he was there! Standing right next to her in the receiving line.” Several other passengers have turned around and are staring at me so I drop my voice to a whisper. “Do you think she set me up somehow?”
“Shit. I don’t know. Where are you right now?”
“On the bus.”
“Aub, I would have taken you.”
“No, you wouldn’t have, because you told me not to go. I’ll be home in a few minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll see you there.”
We end the call and I’m shaking by the time I get off at my stop. Luckily, it’s only a two-block walk to our house.
When I come through the kitchen door, everyone is here. Deacon pulls out the chair next to him, indicating I sit there.
“I talked to Camille in the bathroom at the Rosary for Ben. He found out she was hiding in the house Saturday afternoon. Someone sent Ben a picture of me dressed up like Camille, shopping.” I look at Deacon. “I think it was that PI who was helping us.” I’m gripping the edge of the table so hard my knuckles turn white.
“That son of a bitch,” Deacon says, his fist pounding the table. “Tell me what she said.”
I fill him in and he gets up from the table, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He walks in the other room to make a call. Pretty sure he’s about to have words with Vic.
Eddie drops down in the chair Deacon just vacated. “Look at some pictures I pulled up. See if you recognize the guy.”
