Shane and Eddie also take their leave, but they’re only going as far as the garage. Then it’s just Deacon and me at the table.
Deacon fumbles with his set of keys until he frees one from the ring. “I gotta get back to work too. Go up to my room, soak in my tub. I’ve heard you talk about it enough that I know you want to. I won’t be back for a couple of hours so it’ll just sit empty.”
“Are you serious? I can use it?”
Deacon moved in about six months after me into what would once have been considered the primary bedroom. He saw thefor rentsign when he came to “chat” with one of the neighbors. It’s one of the units I would have loved to upgrade to…the claw-foot bathtub alone made me think long and hard about the higher rent. It worked out for the best, because otherwise Deacon wouldn’t have moved in, although that tub is completely wasted on him since there’s no way he can stretch out comfortably in it.
Deacon gives me a lopsided grin. “Of course you can use it. I’ll get you a key made so you can use it whenever you want.”
“This is so nice, thank you.” He’s close enough that I can lean forward and give him a quick hug.
He gets up and moves to the door but stops before he leaves. “I’ll be back in a bit. Call me if you need me.”
“I will.” I feel calmer now than I did when I first got home, but I know this respite will be short-lived.
Do I believe Camille killed her husband?
No, I really don’t.
But that doesn’t mean the police won’t set their sights on her…or me, if they find out what we did on Saturday.
Chapter 26
Ben
Ten years ago
The Everetts’ condo in Baton Rouge is nicer than my house back in Corbeau.
It was almost two a.m. when Silas and I got to Baton Rouge. He had passed out in the car on the way here and I struggled getting him inside. He came to long enough to jump in the shower and only fell once trying to get out since he was still drunk.
He’s on the couch, choosing to sleep there rather than one of the three bedrooms. The cut on his forehead finally stopped bleeding but it probably needs a stitch or two. Gonna leave an ugly scar. His knee is still swollen but it looks like it’s just bruised.
Mr. Everett wants us to stay here until Sunday. He also wants us “out and about” to further cement this alibi. But having people see him all banged up the day after the accident seems dumb to me.
I’ve been up for a couple of hours when my phone rings and I see Camille’s name flash across the screen. I wait until I’m back in the room I slept in before I answer.
“Hey, I’ve been trying to get you.” It’s hard to keep the frustration out of my voice. I feel like things are shaky between us right now, and with the distance, I’m trying not to give her any reason to break things off. Especially after last night.
“Sorry, the time difference here makes it hard to connect. When I think about calling you, it’s in the middle of the night there.”
“Where are you now?”
“Seville. Spain. It’s one of my favorite places so far! And the food is so good. I’m going to have so much content for my site when I get back.”
Camille took a marketing class last semester where she had to make an account for a project. The class is over but the account still lives on.
“That’s cool! I can’t wait to see it.”
I lie on my bed and listen as she recounts everything she’s done since I spoke to her last. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about what she was doing or who she was meeting over there. People who run in the same crowd as her and have the financial means to hop around Europe all summer like she’s currently doing.
And as much as she hates the power her father wields, she sure doesn’t hate what that money affords her. Tuition paid in full at Tulane, the little BMW she drives, credit cards with no limits…and an all-expenses-paid trip to Europe. It’s a bit hypocritical in my opinion.
But then again, I’m just jealous.
I’m determined to be as rich and powerful as Mr. Everett one day, if not more so. And helping cover for Silas last night just made that path a little bit easier.
“So what have you been up to?” Camille finally asks.
