Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 128083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
She made an agreeable sound in the back of her throat before taking a sip of coffee. “Butterflies it is. Order up a flock.”
He smiled. He didn’t think flock was the right word, but his knowledge on butterflies was slim. She was joking anyway, but even if she wasn’t, he would have ordered butterflies from Amazon before he drove over to any business Cami Cortlandt ran.
They had an understanding now, but even so, he would avoid her at all costs while he was here.
It wouldn’t be hard. Just like then, they lived on opposite sides of town, and there was no reason their paths needed to cross.
Chapter Eighteen
Cami unlocked her door and went inside, her cat, Boots, greeting her by rubbing his body against her leg, his meow joining the beep of her alarm. “Hi, Bootsie. How are you, sweet boy? Hungry?”
Door firmly shut, she set her purse and keys on the console in her foyer and then typed in the alarm code before engaging both locks. Boots followed along beside her to the kitchen, and she poured him some food and refilled his water bowl.
A jiggle told her the kitchen window was secure before she lowered her shades. She leaned back against the counter, stretching her neck one way and then the other. It’d been a long day full of one snafu after another.
A wedding order and a birthday order, both for butterfly releases but of different types and quantities, had been mixed up, and so she’d jumped in her car and sped to both events and swapped them out with a few minutes to spare. Then the credit card machine in the gift shop had gone on the fritz, and the air conditioner had started leaking in earnest.
And though she didn’t relish spending a day in fix-it mode, she did appreciate that there were fixes for everything that had gone wrong.
Especially after yesterday. She cringed for the hundredth time as she thought about Rex Lowe standing on that porch looking down on her coolly. And who could blame him, really? Like he’d said, his life had been ruined in the fallout of her mother’s and her sister’s murders because she hadn’t defended him. If anything, she’d confirmed the possibility that he’d been there. She’d been so confused. So lost, her mind pounding with horror and disbelief. Up had looked down and down had looked up. She might have believed anything, even that the quiet boy with kindness in his eyes had been present during the most traumatic event of her life.
But then two months later, DNA evidence on the man she’d only heard called “AJ” had come back. It hadn’t been found in any law enforcement database, unfortunately, but neither did it belong to the boy who’d been looked at with suspicion by not only the community but also the nation. People at their school had talked to reporters about Rex’s “obsession” with her. Hollis did an interview and said he’d seen Rex at the hospital directly afterward, looking sketchy and out of breath. A gas station attendant had come forward and said Rex had suspiciously told him he was out for a run, when the man had never seen Rex jogging in the area before.
Even so, there was no real evidence against him, except perhaps of the weak, circumstantial variety. And the more time had elapsed, the more certain Cami had become that it wasn’t Rex. She’d have recognized his voice. She’d have known.
But by the time the police decided not to press any charges, it’d been too late for Rex Lowe. The damage had been done. She’d heard through the grapevine that the scholarships he’d earned had gone to someone else. The opportunities had passed. Whether anyone ever reached out to him to give him another chance, Cami had no idea.
She reached up and massaged her temples. Later, after the media hubbub had begun to die down, she’d thought about how unfair it was, but she’d been so overwhelmed and grieving that she hadn’t looked into where Rex had ended up. Then she’d become a mother and given her son away and had to start the grieving process all over again when she wasn’t even close to done scaling the mountain of misery for her mother and sister.
You should have made some inquiries about Rex. You should have confirmed he was doing all right. You should have reached out to him.
You should have apologized.
And yet, it appeared Rex Lowe had landed on his feet, to say the least. He’d looked well, better than well. And for that, Cami was glad.
She poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge. Then she stood against the counter again, sipping her drink and scratching Boots with her foot as the vision of Rex Lowe filled her mind once more.