Dead to Her(71)

Keisha’s breath caught in her throat. No, no, no. “She was just—it was just—”

“I need some time to talk to my client,” the lawyer cut in, silencing her.

Cursed KeKe. It was all coming home to roost.





43.

The group had a late dinner at the club, perhaps the least intrusive place for them all given that William and Keisha were all over the news, but still everyone stared. Many of the other diners had been at the party, of course, and that added to the frisson of excitement in the air as they chattered about how awful it was, all said with a certain glee. William Radford’s life wasn’t turning out to be so charmed after all.

They’d only ordered salads, but Marcie couldn’t even pretend to eat hers as Noah filled them in with what the police had reported back. Things were not looking good for Keisha, and when he’d told them how William had been poisoned, Marcie’s eyes fixated on her plate as the world pounded in her ears until she was certain she’d have an aneurysm. She wanted to go home, take a pill, sleep, and then find when she woke up that this had all been some kind of nightmare. None of it made sense. That envelope arriving for Jason and then this happening to William?

“I can’t believe it,” Iris said. The tension between her and Noah was palpable. Iris had made sure that Keisha had good legal representation—Dan Temple was considered one of the best—even as Noah had been leveling accusations at her. “That girl may have problems, but I don’t see her doing something like this.”

“As Marcie told us, she has a Valium addiction and William made her stop taking it suddenly,” Virginia said. “Lord knows I’ve seen the effects of drugs with my work at the Mission. People can do just about anything when they’re in that sort of withdrawal, and bless her heart, she always seemed a bit heady to me. You know, a little too wild, too free? Damaged perhaps?”

“Well then, perhaps she was not in her right mind.” Iris flashed a glare at her husband. “I should speak to Dan about getting a full evaluation done. Even if she’s innocent, it won’t hurt to have one done.”

“You don’t think she did it?” Marcie asked. She’d expected Iris and Virginia—especially Virginia—to tear Keisha apart once the police had her. Common. Coarse. Money grubber. Whore. Not one of us. But no, if anything, they were rallying around. Was this a little rebellion on Iris’s part against her husband? Did any of them have good marriages at all?

“Do you?” Iris raised an eyebrow. “You were her friend, Marcie. Does this strike you as her sort of behavior? And if she did do it, I doubt it was in sound mind.”

“No, not at all,” Marcie muttered, wanting no black marks against her potential Magnolia membership if they survived this scandal. Maybe she didn’t quite believe that Keisha would poison William, but what could she do to help her? It was like Jason had said in the car. If the police didn’t go after Keisha for it, then they’d have to start looking elsewhere, and it wouldn’t be long before they turned Marcie’s way.

“Well, you ladies are at odds with the evidence,” Noah said. “Which seems pretty darned conclusive. They’re going to hold her for the full seventy-two hours, but I’m sure they’ll be charging her with attempted murder before then.”

“What’s this?” Jason asked, returning from the bathroom and retaking his seat. Emmett was moments behind him.

“Keisha. Noah thinks they’re going to charge her.” Marcie’s throat tightened. For all they knew, William could die at any moment. It would be a murder charge then. The death penalty probably. Her head spun. Keisha couldn’t have done it. She couldn’t, could she? But there were those times, so many times, she’d whispered, Why can’t he just die? with such longing. Had it all gotten too much? But this method—poisoning—was too cold, too clinical, for her. If Keisha was going to kill someone then it would be in the heat of a moment. She’d stab him or hit him with something. She was all passion, not planning.

“They want a quick result, that’s all.” Iris shot her husband an irritated glance. “You better than most know how often that happens. If she’d been smart enough to plan this, she’d have been smart enough to get up and clean up after herself and then go back to bed before he was found. Any fool would.”

“Do you know what was in her Internet search history on her cell phone?” Noah growled. He didn’t wait for an answer. “How many Viagra it would take to kill a man.”

There was a long pause. Iris drew herself up tall. “There’s a lot of water between thinking about killing someone and actually doing it.” She looked at Noah again. “Trust me on that.”

“Maybe she was just worried he was taking too many,” Marcie said quietly.

Virginia let out a short nervous laugh, which went some way to breaking the tension, but Noah had made his point. There was an overwhelming amount of evidence against Keisha. Why would the police think to look anywhere else?



Marcie’s head was throbbing by the time they got home and it was late—nearly midnight—and she felt like she hadn’t slept in days. All she wanted was her bed, but her stomach was in knots about Jason and the envelope. What was he going to do? To say? They’d barely had a moment to themselves in all this, between their friends and the police and fielding phone calls from the nosy and curious disguising their craving for inside information with Southern care and concern.