Aubrey grabbed Meghan’s hand under the table, tried to send her a silent I don’t care, it doesn’t reflect badly on you.
Meghan squeezed her hand back and unfroze. “If Josh Hamilton was working for a drug dealer, why wouldn’t this have come up years ago? During the investigation, or the trial?”
“Because Derek Allen is very good at keeping his silent partners silent.”
“Did he kill my husband?” Aubrey asked.
“I don’t know.”
Aubrey shook her head. “I’m having a hard time believing your story. It’s rather fantastical. Josh was a doctor.”
“Where did he tell you he went all those nights?”
“He had a second job. At the morgue.”
Cutter gave her an opaque look. “Which he was using as the delivery service.”
Aubrey was trying to wrap her head around that tidbit when he suddenly leaned forward. “Have you considered that your husband might still be alive?”
He’s alive.
Aubrey tried to keep the emotion from her face. She glanced at Meghan, sucked in her breath, and scooted back in her chair. “I think Derek Allen is trying to make me believe that he is.”
She let her voice waver, tears threatening. “I’m sorry. Please, would you excuse me?”
She stood and practically ran to the ladies’ room, bypassing the world-famous men’s room, a black-and-green art deco masterpiece. Josh had taken her in there the night they’d come for their anniversary, made a big show of announcing a lady was present, all of it. She didn’t think it was as beautiful as some did, preferred the quiet serenity of the women’s modern nude space next door.
She slammed the door behind her and locked it. Son of a bitch.
She splashed water on her face. Pull it together, Aubrey. You know he’s dead. You know it. The insurance payout comes tomorrow. Derek Allen is just sniffing around, hoping for a cut.
Using her, using Tyler.
That thought made her very, very angry. Aubrey didn’t like herself when she was angry. She punched cops and stole from her mother-in-law and landed herself in psychiatric wards.
She stared at herself in the mirror, willing the hectic red spots on her cheeks to go away. She shut her eyes and ran her hands through her hair, her fingers catching on the corkscrew curls.
Breathe, Aubrey. Breathe.
Her cell phone trilled, shattering the silence, making her jump.
She cursed and dug it from her bag.
Chase.
Oh, shit. With all that had happened, she’d totally forgotten the time.
She swallowed and answered, trying to sound normal.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself, sweetheart. I miss you.”
“You, too.”
“Everything okay? You sound tense.”
“Ha. Wow. You can hear it, huh?”
“Yes. What’s the matter?”
What’s the matter? Oh, wow. How to answer that? Let’s see. People are starting to find out my husband was involved with a drug lord. I think I might be in danger. I don’t think I should see you again. I want to see you so badly my skin itches.
She finally found her voice.
“Daisy. Daisy had a heart attack, or something like it. She’s still in surgery, they found a hole in her heart. She’s not doing well. I was there all night. I’m just really tired.”
Her first lie to Chase. She should mark it on the calendar.
“Where are you now?”
“Um, at the Hermitage Hotel, of all places. Having tea with Meghan.”
“Why aren’t you at the hospital?”
“Meghan needed me. I’m just in the bathroom for a second. Listen, I should go.”
She could hear the hurt in his voice. “Oh, sure. I understand. I just wanted to let you know I’m catching an earlier flight. My meeting was cancelled this afternoon. I got a car, you won’t need to pick me up.” He hesitated a moment. “That is, if it’s still okay with you that I’m coming. Last night, well, I know it sounded ominous.”
Aubrey bit her tongue. Tears burned in her eyes. She didn’t know what to do. She had to make a decision, and do it quickly.
“It’s fine. Great. So I’ll see you at the house?”
Relief flooded his tone. “Definitely. Four thirty. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Me, too, Chase. Fly safe.”
She hung up the phone and slumped down into one of the chairs in front of the makeup mirrors.
Pull yourself together, Aubrey.
It was no use. Her head began to spin, and her breath came short. The walls of the room began to close in around her. The waves of anxiety plowed through her. Her rational mind said, Aubrey, you’re having a panic attack. Breathe. But her nervous system was already in overdrive.
It was all too much. She couldn’t handle this. Tears came, and with them, short little breaths that finally got some oxygen to her brain. It took another minute to get her breath back, then another reassembling herself, using the mouthwash to erase the taste of bile that lingered in her throat. She had to get back out there, or they’d get suspicious.
You can do this, Aubrey. You’re close. You always wanted to know what happened that night. And now, you’re going to find out.
With a last look in the mirror, she squared her shoulders and headed back to the bar.
CHAPTER 48