Dead to Her(68)

It was only later that she thought, as the police came to question her, that perhaps no one screamed because you only scream to try to wake the dead. And William wasn’t dead.





Part Three





Epigraph



All day I’ve been wondering what is inside of me?

Who can I blame for it?

I say it runs in the family . . .

“Runs in the Family” by Amanda Palmer





41.

“They think it was some sort of stroke. Or heart attack. Something awful like that. He’d been on the treadmill. I guess that must have brought it on.”

“Zelda found him just after ten. She’d let Elizabeth in to coordinate the party cleanup.”

“As he collapsed, he hit his head on the corner of the desk. There was blood everywhere. Shocking.”

“He was so cold Zelda thought he was dead. Must have been lying there at least an hour or two. Thankfully, Elizabeth found a pulse, didn’t you, dear?”

“I was just lucky, but dear lord my own heart nearly stopped. He looked deathly.”

“Where was he?”

“In his study. Straight to work, you know William.”

“It’s so shocking. I can’t believe it.”

Marcie wasn’t sure that an overweight old man with a wild young wife having a heart attack was all that surprising, but she didn’t say anything, hanging back as Jason quizzed Virginia, Emmett, and Elizabeth. She didn’t have the energy. She had problems of her own. Jason hadn’t come home until late, after one A.M., muttering something about Keisha having a meltdown, and when Marcie had asked if he wanted to talk, he’d simply gotten up and gone to sleep in one of the guest bedrooms, leaving her lying awake and worrying. Jacquie had been at the party. Is that what had kept Jason there? Some illicit rendezvous in plain sight of everyone? He’d always liked taking risks. He’d taken them with her, why would he be any different now? No one changes.

She’d finally fallen asleep at around five and the next thing she’d known Jason had been shaking her awake, telling her to get dressed, and that they had to get to the hospital. Seems like Jason hadn’t gone to sleep till dawn either, because they’d missed several calls and slept through various texts, and now here they were at four in the afternoon, surrounded by their friends and catching up on the horror of this Sunday morning’s excitement. Even Jason had come alive as he’d questioned the others. There was a spark in his eyes again. Wolflike. She wasn’t sure she liked it.

“Where’s Noah?” he asked.

“At William’s house,” Emmett said. “He arrived at the same time as the paramedics apparently. William had asked him to come for a brunch meeting.” He raised an eyebrow. “What kind of person has a breakfast meeting the morning after a fabulous party?” He paused momentarily before answering his own question. “I suppose the kind of man who has a heart attack after jogging too early in the morning after a fabulous party.” He smiled, louche, and shrugged. “Anyway, he stayed behind while Elizabeth came here. Making phone calls, I imagine. Taking charge.”

“Something was bothering him,” Elizabeth said.

“Yes, his old friend nearly dead on his study floor, I should imagine,” Virginia cut in sharply, and Elizabeth said no more.

Marcie was glad of the quiet. For her part, she’d had enough excitement. She wanted life to go back to how it was before Keisha. Her safe, dull existence where she was the beautiful second wife. Keisha. She looked around and frowned.

“Where’s Keisha?” she asked softly.

“With Iris,” Virginia said. “Over there around the corner. She’s a little . . . unsteady.”

Marcie ignored the gossipy tone and drifted away from the group to the smaller section of the relatives’ room tucked around the corner from the counter, where the coffee machine and cookies were. They were seated against the far wall, Iris holding Keisha’s hand in one of hers, two cups of coffee untouched on the table in front of them.

“You okay?” Marcie said, taking the seat on the other side. “I’m so sorry. It must be such a shock.”

“It’s my fault,” Keisha whispered. Her body twitched occasionally, and her eyes, no makeup lining them, were bloodshot and teary. “It’s all my fault.” She didn’t look at Marcie, lost in her own world. Marcie wasn’t even sure Keisha knew Iris and she were there. “I found the doll in my drawer this morning when I was getting dressed,” she continued. “It’s my fault. I wished it, don’t you see? It’s what I wanted.” She started to cry, a soft keening sound filled with fear. She stared into space. “There was a boy who was never there and now I’m cursed. It’s all my fault.”

“Hush now, sweet girl.” Iris rubbed Keisha’s hands between her palms. “Take deep breaths. Try to relax.” She looked across her at Marcie. “Do you know if she normally takes any medications? She wasn’t herself last night and she certainly isn’t today.”

Marcie wasn’t sure what to say, how much she should admit to knowing, but there was no denying that Keisha was twitching. “I gave her some Xanax the other day because she was struggling. She normally has a Valium prescription but she hadn’t told William. When he found out he threw her tablets away. Said she couldn’t have any more.”