One of Us Is Dead(55)

Keisha clearly did not like Mark. Or maybe she knew something about Mark that the rest of us didn’t. Maybe she was the one sleeping with him. Or perhaps she just really liked Karen and didn’t want to see her get hurt. Regardless, something was off. I could feel it in my gut. It was that same feeling I had when Bryce was cheating on me, like there was a heavy rock inside my stomach weighing me down.

“Tell us why you’re not sure if you believe him,” Jenny said as she placed a cap over my head. She dragged the stand-up dryer over and set it up, turning it on a low setting.

“Well, last night he said . . .” Karen started. The front door chimed.

“Hello,” Crystal called out.

Oh, great. I wasn’t ready to deal with her today. Even if I didn’t want Bryce anymore, I also didn’t want him to be happy. He didn’t deserve that, and it seemed as though she fulfilled him. If he knew what I knew about Crystal, I don’t think he’d be so content. But I could be civil . . . for now.

Crystal slid through the black curtains dressed in ripped, fitted jeans; an off-the-shoulder top; and a pair of tennis shoes. Nothing on her was designer. Perhaps all wasn’t well in paradise. Bryce always made sure I was dressed head to toe in high-end clothing. But it seemed like he was fine with Crystal looking like she came right from the farm.

“Hi, Bryce said he made an appointment for me today,” Crystal said, unsure of herself and her place here.

“That’s right.” Jenny motioned with her hands. “Take a seat on the couch, and I’ll get you started in a few minutes.” Crystal sat on the plush white couch kitty-cornered to us and right in front of the bar. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Just a sparkling water.” She repositioned herself on the couch.

Jenny grabbed a San Pellegrino from the minifridge. She removed the cap and handed it to Crystal. Keisha plucked away at the hairs the wax didn’t pick up on Karen’s face.

“Now, what were you saying?” Keisha said to Karen.

“Well, last night Mark randomly brought up upping our life insurance policies after he said all that about cutting his hours and spending more time with me. Isn’t that odd?” Karen winced while Keisha plucked.

I furrowed my brow. Crystal coughed on her sparkling water.

“Are you okay?” Jenny asked.

“Yeah. But that’s odd, Karen. Last night Bryce and I had dinner with Olivia and Dean. They brought up the same thing to us, about wanting to up the life insurance policies.”

Everyone turned to look at Crystal. I took a sip of my water and let out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Karen asked.

“Your husbands want you all to up your life insurance policies. Sounds like someone’s going to get offed.” I cackled.

“That’s not funny.” Karen playfully slapped me on the knee.

“Bryce mentioned he did the same thing with you,” Crystal said. I turned to look at her and found it was me she was referring to.

“No, he didn’t.”

Jenny took a step back.

“You sure about that?” Karen said with a laugh.

“Of course.” I sat up taller and pulled back my shoulders.

“Ever sign something he put in front of you without reading it?” Keisha raised an eyebrow.

I thought back to our marriage. I liked signing my name, Mrs. Shannon Madison. I signed anything and everything I could. It made me feel powerful. I even had a gold-plated pen specifically for signing my name on packages, receipts at designer stores—and yeah, anything Bryce put in front of me.

“Fuck,” I said.

Karen and Keisha laughed. Jenny patted my shoulder. Crystal averted her eyes from me and returned to taking small sips of her sparkling water.

“At least he didn’t have you sign a postnup,” Karen offered.

“What a slimy bastard.” I shook my head.

If he really had me sign something like that without telling me, what else did I sign? He always thought he knew best. That arrogant prick. Where did he get off increasing my life insurance coverage? Was he hoping I’d die while he was off banging Little Miss Barnyard? At least I didn’t have to worry about it now that we were divorced. No one would profit from my death.





45

Jenny


present

I toss the pizza crust into the box and take a swig of Coca-Cola to wash it down. Detective Sanford devours his piece of pizza, crust and all. He wipes his hands on his pants and picks up his pen again.

“So, the husbands convinced all the wives to increase their life insurance policies?” he asks.

“Yes.” I nod my head and wipe my hands with a napkin.

He scribbles some more words down on his notebook, then drops his pen, and reaches for another piece of pizza. The cheese oozes off the end of it, but he’s careful to grab it all and plop it back on his slice. He folds the pizza in half the long way and takes a large bite, smacking his lips together and chewing it vigorously. He eats pizza like he investigates a crime, thoroughly and with care not to leave anything behind.

In between bites he asks, “And you didn’t find that odd?”

I lean forward in my chair, placing my elbows on the table. “I found everything about Buckhead odd.”

Detective Sanford nods and continues to eat his pizza as he turns things over in his mind. Buckhead was like a Rubik’s Cube—few figured it out, few understood it. I knew what I knew because I was a silent observer—through the text messages they sent, the phone calls they took, and the emails they drafted, I saw everything. All while they sat in my salon chair. Not only that, but the pauses between their words, looks exchanged with one another, and their body language told me everything else.