Dead to Her

by Sarah Pinborough

  So what if an air of suspicion hung over her? She’d had no intention of staying in Boise. God, she’d been banking on Jonny drinking himself to death and then she’d swan off with his payout, but no, he had to decide to get himself together. To start talking about a baby again. Trapping her in that life. She couldn’t have that. She’d rather die. Or, as it turned out, she’d rather he died.

  Sociopath.

  That was the word the police had used about her back in Boise, even if they couldn’t prove it. Same word they all used about Jason now. Like attracts like, she guessed. If she’d known what Jason was up to with the client accounts she’d have probably killed him too—but perhaps more imaginatively than she had Jonny. She’d grown as a person since then. Maybe even without the money troubles she’d have ended up getting rid of husband number two. She’d been getting bored and he’d been getting tiring with his sudden need to reproduce. She’d never wanted a child. What if it turned out to be like her?

  Keisha murmured in her sleep. Ah, the irony. Marcie had never wanted kids and here she was, soon to be saddled with coparenting a screaming brat. But it would be worth it for the final financial result. Keisha, for all her charm, was fragile and needy and like a child herself. For now, Marcie found it quite sweet, especially given all of poor William’s money Keisha had to spend on her, constantly trying to impress her and prove she loved her, but she was pretty sure that within a couple of years, it would get cloying. But still—they’d be married by then.

  One thing all this had taught Marcie about herself was that she found love to be fleeting. She obsessed about a person and then she got bored. That was how love was for her. She’d gotten bored with Jonny, and she’d gotten bored with Jason. One day, she’d get bored with Keisha too. But Keisha had a history of mental health issues. She may have weaned herself off the Valium because of the pregnancy but it wouldn’t be that hard to get her back on them and then to arrange an overdose or an accident. Send the kid to boarding school and live a life of luxury.

  Yes, she thought, kissing the top of Keisha’s head. The future was turning out very nicely indeed.

  Epilogue

  “Don’t be so angry. Some would call it poetic justice that you’re in here,” Elizabeth said across the visiting room table. On the other side, Jason looked as if he could murder her. “Life with no possibility of parole.” She shrugged. “Although I can see how it might not feel that way to you. Especially as it could—and will—get so much worse.”

  “How could it get any worse?” Jason’s bitterness dripped from him. The guilty were so often bitter she found. Despite their own crimes, any small injustice stung them hard. One of life’s ironies. He hadn’t taken her confession well, it had to be said. He was going to take this snippet of information worse, although he really should have thought it through earlier. She was starting to think that Jason Maddox wasn’t too bright.

  “When William dies,” she said simply. “Which he will, in the next few days. I’m tired of whispering to him what a shit he is. I think he’s gotten the message now. He’s giving up and shutting down. His organs are becoming more unstable. Even the doctors think that turning the machines off is for the best and after I leave here, I shall be persuading his legal representatives that death is the kindest route for him.”

  “What are you talking about?” The first hint of fear cracking through his anger. “What has that got to do with me?”

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it? If William dies, then you’re guilty of first-degree murder. And that’s the death penalty.” She smiled at him cheerfully. “And that will happen. Your appeal will fail. Admittedly you may spend some years on death row, but trust me, you will get the injection.”

  “Bullshit. You can’t know that.”

  “But I can. I do. I see it. The great Mama Laveau’s blood runs in mine. You can believe in it or not, but that doesn’t change mine or my mama’s powers. What will be will be.”

  “Why the fuck are you here, Elizabeth?” His words were spat nails, but his face was pale.

  “I wondered if you knew why you were here. Why I put you behind these bars.”

  “Because you’re a psycho bitch?”

  “Oh Jason, really. No need for insults. Actually, no, you’re here because I gave your wife a choice. I told her I could arrange for one of you to go free and one of you to go to jail. A choice between you and Keisha. She chose to set Keisha free and leave you to face all this. You, her husband. I guess till death do us part means something different to Marcie. But yes, she chose the money over saving your life.”

  His eyes widened. “Marcie did this?”

  “In her own way, yes.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments while the truth of it all soaked into Jason’s skin, settling inside him like a strange acceptance.

  “Keisha might be a dumb bitch, but she never did anything wrong,” Jason said eventually. “What if Marcie had chosen her to be guilty? You’d have let her face the death penalty?”

  “Keisha was never going to end up in your position,” Elizabeth said. “I knew how Marcie would choose. She would always save the rich woman over her criminal husband. And anyway, Keisha was protected. As I told Marcie, not everything is a curse. Voodoo is a healing practice, that’s what most people don’t understand. And it works in balance. To do what I’ve done for Eleanor, to take this revenge for her, there had to be a balance of good. Keisha was the balance. A poor girl haunted throughout her life by someone else’s crimes. I have put her through the fire but she is now set free. She has money. She has no grasping family or domineering husband. She can finally be herself. No harm will come to her.

  “I told Marcie that conjure balls and dolls can protect or curse,” she continued. “Keisha’s were to protect her always. Marcie couldn’t harm her. It had to be you. Karma for your father, don’t you think?”

  The steely cold look on Jason’s face made it clear that he had no time for karma.

  “Anyway,” she continued. “Giving people a choice is like a magic trick. You should always know what their answer will be in advance. With Marcie that was easy. She already killed one husband—I doubted she’d have any qualms about making a choice to kill another.”

  “You think she killed Jonny?” Jason asked.

  “I spent time in her hometown. I talked to her old friends. The woman she was out drinking with that night, the night Jonny died, she said she’d seen it in her face when they came back into the trailer. A moment of victory. She said Marcie hated being married. She’d hoped he’d die. And then he did. How rare that the terrible things we hope for actually happen. Yes, I think she killed Jonny.” She leaned across the table conspiratorially. “And more than that, my mama says she knows she did. It’s in the air around her. Bad juju.”

  “But she’s out there walking around without a care in the world?” Jason said. “With Keisha and all William’s money? And you can’t do anything for me? To help me?” He couldn’t keep the pleading desperation out of his voice. “Nothing?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Elizabeth said, with a sigh, as she leaned back in her chair. “There was a third choice for Marcie, you know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She could have refused to choose. She could have let justice run its course. That’s what a decent person would have done, don’t you think? A good person? She could have told Detective Anderson everything I’d said and added another suspect to the pot. But no, Marcie didn’t even consider that option. She only considered what was best for her.”

  Elizabeth studied Jason thoughtfully, before leaning back in close to the glass. “I can’t save you. No one can do that. But I granted the wish of a dying woman and now I can grant the wish of a dying man. There’s power in a dying man’s wish.”

  Jason’s eyes narrowed, confused. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll give you a choice, just like I gave your wife. Would you like me to leave Marcie be? To let her live her life regardless of the harm she causes ot
hers? Regardless of her slow murder of you in here? Do you love her enough for that? Or”—she smiled—“would you like me to take her own life from her when she’s least expecting it? A fitting punishment for a murderess, perhaps? As I did with William for Eleanor?” She paused. “The choice is yours.”

  Jason smiled, and as her eyes burned, Elizabeth knew he could see the serpents shining in them.

  “I know what I choose,” he said.

  Acknowledgments

  Firstly, a big thank-you and apology to the people of Savannah, Georgia. I visited your city about three years ago for SIBA (Southern Independent Booksellers Alliance), and along with meeting so many wonderful independent booksellers there, I also fell in love with the town and knew I would have to make it a book’s home at some point. I had intended to spend a month or two in an Airbnb getting to know the place last year, but sadly my wonderful father was diagnosed with terminal cancer and all travel plans were off the table so I could stay close to home. So, while I’ve tried my best to get things right, please forgive any inaccuracies that may be in the pages of this book; I had hoped to know the city better!

  As well as the obvious thanks to my fabulous agents, Veronique Baxter at David Higham and Grainne Fox at Fletcher & Company, and exceptional editors, Natasha Bardon and David Highfill and ALL their teams who work so hard to make any book a reality, and who have me forever in their debt, there are several other people who need a mention with regard to Dead to Her in particular.

  Big thanks to Lynn Radford, who was very generous in her bidding for charity to win naming a character in this book—I hope Keisha likes her namesake!

  Kevin Wignall and Simon Kernick for always being there and being guaranteed to make me laugh even when it feels like the world is crumbling. I couldn’t ask for better friends. Likewise, the Stony Stratford dog-walking posse, who keep me and Ted grounded and sane in the early mornings.

  A massive thanks to Amanda Palmer for letting me use the lyrics from her brilliant “Runs in the Family,” and also thanks to Neil Gaiman for making sure my request didn’t get lost in the ether.

  Thanks of course to Mark for putting up with me in the madness of deadline chasing and book angst and all the other self-absorbed activities authors get so wound up about. Welcome to the world of living with a writer ;-). Yes, we are going to go on holiday now . . . well, once I’ve finished the next one.

  And finally, thanks to all you readers, without whom this whole business would be pointless. You’re superstars.

  About the Author

  SARAH PINBOROUGH is the author of more than twenty novels and novellas, including Behind Her Eyes, which was a New York Times and number one Sunday Times bestseller; Cross Her Heart, a Sunday Times bestseller; The Death House; and the young adult thriller 13 Minutes. She has also written for the BBC. She lives in England.

  Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.

  Also by Sarah Pinborough

  Cross Her Heart

  Behind Her Eyes

  Copyright

  An excerpt from the song “Runs in the Family” taken from the album Who Killed Amanda Palmer. Lyrics by Amanda Palmer.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  dead to her. Copyright © 2020 by Sarah Pinborough. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  first edition

  Cover design by Julianna Lee

  Cover photographs © Kim Blomqvist/Arcangel (woman); © KatarinaF/Shutterstock (shadow in sunglasses)

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for.

  Digital Edition FEBRUARY 2020 ISBN: 978-0-06-285685-2

  Print ISBN: 978-0-06-285682-1

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