Dead to Her(72)

“Maybe I shouldn’t have told the police about the grass Keisha found,” she said, kicking off her shoes and trying to sound normal. “But I didn’t know they were fishing about the needles. They just asked if Keisha had ever taken anything from Eleanor’s things.” That wasn’t entirely true. It had been clear they’d been digging for something and she gave it to them, but only for her own survival.

“Sure,” Jason sneered. “Because you care so much. Would you rather they were coming for you?”

“I didn’t poison William!” she snapped, tears stinging her eyes.

“So you keep saying. But someone did. We just have to hope that whoever knows about you—whoever sent that yearbook—keeps their mouth shut for now, otherwise it could be Keisha out here and you in that cell. We have to keep our heads down, Marcie. Be William’s good friends. Stay in the background.”

Marcie’s stomach flipped again. He was right. Someone out there was watching them, watching her. “But who would have sent it?” she asked. “And why? Why now? And that accusatory note . . . Why didn’t they say what they wanted?”

“How the hell would I know?” Jason filled the coffee machine. “And to be honest, I don’t even care. I’ve thrown it all away. I don’t want to look at it. And I sure as shit don’t have the energy to think about it right now.”

“You’re making coffee?” Marcie stared. “Now?”

“I’ve got work to do. I need to cancel the audit, for one thing. That’s supposed to have started this morning but I’m keeping the office closed for a few days until we know how—well, how likely it is that William could recover.”

Was it her imagination or did he sound as if that wasn’t the preferred outcome? William was his best friend and yet he hadn’t shed a tear for him either yesterday or today. Maybe it was shock. Maybe she was being harsh.

“I’m senior partner in his absence so the buyout can wait for now,” he continued. “Until things have calmed down.”

“Don’t you want to talk?” she asked. “Tell me how you’re feeling. About us. About me. We can’t—”

“Not now, Marcie.” He looked at her. “I love you. I do. But I need time to process it. To figure out the best way to protect you, and I don’t have that right now. And until we know what they want we’ll be going around in circles anyway.”

“Do you think maybe Jacquie . . .”

“Don’t be so ridiculous,” he snapped. “And I said not now.”

She said no more and went to take solace in a hot shower, the only place she had space to think. He wouldn’t even countenance that Jacquie might have done it, and what kind of man defended his first wife to his second anyway? Marcie’s reasoning wasn’t exactly a leap of imagination. Jacquie had always been a complete bitch, and she obviously wanted to break them up now that she was back in town.

There were also Jason’s secrets. He was all holier than thou at the moment, but he wasn’t being honest. What about his fight with William that night? He hadn’t mentioned that to the police, had he? He hadn’t even mentioned it to her. Did he think she hadn’t heard? Well, she had, and Elizabeth had heard too, at least a little bit of it. Maybe she should throw that at her darling husband. Send a little worry his way and see how he liked it.

She moisturized and powdered and then crawled into her soft, vast bed. She thought of Keisha on a narrow cot, the mattress so thin the springs would be poking through, the blanket rough against her soft skin. The noise of strangers in the night. Catcalls. Abuse being shouted by the drunk and the damned. Would she get any sleep at all?

Marcie wrapped the cool, expensive Egyptian cotton sheets tighter around her own body. She did have feelings for Keisha, she knew she did. But how could she help her? She couldn’t. Not without drawing attention to herself, and there was no way she was going to do that.

She lay awake, tossing and turning, her hairline crinkling with sweat even as the AC cranked cool air around the house. She couldn’t relax. Nothing made sense. Yes, Jacquie could have sent the yearbook, but what about what had happened to William? What motivation would she have had for that? Games were being played and she felt like a pawn on someone else’s board. It couldn’t be coincidental that someone would raise her past and the very next day William was poisoned. She didn’t believe in coincidences.

Finally, her brain and nerves exhausted but with her heart still racing, she drifted into a restless sleep, and she dreamed of Jonny, her sleep choking in silent screams.





44.

When Marcie woke, tired and sweating, it was to the tread of Jason’s feet as he came along the corridor and stopped outside the bedroom door. The dark night had been replaced with the gray gloom of the hour before dawn, and she held her breath until, after a moment, he retreated once again. Jonny was forgotten, all thoughts back on her current husband. So, he wasn’t going to sleep with her again tonight. Was this how their marriage was going to be from now on? A quiet punishment? Separate rooms and smiles for the sake of appearances until he met someone else or had climbed so high up the social ladder they could finally slip into a polite second divorce? Or was he waiting for all this to settle down and then he’d screw her over to be with Jacquie again?