Page 101 of Lemon Pound Cake Club

"They found her phone and said she fit the description from the bar."

Bernice turned to face me.

"You believe any of it?"

I paused to think.

"I believe somebody wants the police and others to."

She looked at me for a moment, then nodded.

"Well, whoever did this is evil."

Even after she left, that word stayed with me in the kitchen.

By late morning, I knew I needed to get out of the house for a while.

"I'll stop by the market today," I called toward the laundry room.

"Ain’t that my job?" Bernice asked.

"I’m just grabbing a few things for a new recipe."

I picked up my purse and keys and stepped onto the porch. I was almost at the end of the walkway when I noticed something move.

Camille was moving slowly through her backyard.

She didn’t walk with her usual confidence. I looked at my car, then back at Camille. The market could wait, so I crossed the street.

"Camille?"

She turned around slowly. There were dark circles under her eyes. She gave a tired smile, but it faded just as quickly.

"Maci."

"I was on my way to the store," I said, holding up my keys. "But then I saw you."

She nodded once.

"I just needed some air."

I stepped into the backyard to be with her.

"I don't think I've slept more than an hour," Camille said at last.

"I'm so sorry."

She laughed softly.

"It doesn't even feel real."

"It probably won't for a while. Grief is strange. It doesn't really make you laugh, though."

She wrapped her arms around herself.

"From the reporters and these detectives. I’m about to lose my mind."

She looked toward the front of the house.