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“Just tell me, Keith, and get it over with.”
He put his arm around me and drew my face down on his chest. “The grand jury returned an indictment and a warrant has been issued for your arrest, Jackie. I promised that you would surrender quietly within the next two hours. I didn’t want Detective Gilchrist showing up here with reporters on his heels and dragging you out in handcuffs in front of your neighbors.”
I couldn’t focus on Keith’s face. The living room was tilting slightly and the sofa seemed to be revolving at an impossible angle.
“This is insane,” I yelled. “If you hadn’t kept my hands tied up like this, I could have done my own research and we’d have other suspects by now!”
“Jackie, calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down! I trusted you and now I’m going to jail!”
“It doesn’t mean you’re going to be convicted of this murder. The state still has to prove its case but the district attorney is under a lot of pressure and felt he had to set a wheel in motion.”
“Keith, I don’t give a fuck about all that right now. I have to spend tonight in police custody and it’s all your fault.”
“Jackie, I couldn’t allow you to run all over town asking questions. You might have said or done something that would jeopardize this case when it finally gets to court. Worse, you might have panicked the killer and ended up in the morgue. Now, you’ve got to keep trusting me even when things look bad. Okay?”
“Suppose you’re wrong? Suppose I end up in the penitentiary?”
“The evidence against you is all circumstantial and I’ll make sure that we get a jury which understands the concept of reasonable doubt.”
Circumstantial evidence. A jury. Reasonable doubt. Even after all that had happened, it still seemed unbelievable. “Mama,” I managed to gasp.
“Call her, Jackie.
Don’t let her hear this on the news.”
I dialed the number and as soon as Mama answered, I started crying so hard that Keith had to take the phone from me and tell her himself. “Mrs. Blue, please calm down . . . It’s just for two nights. Jackie can post bail on Monday and . . . How much? . . . I really don’t know.”
How much, indeed. Evidently Keith had not given any thought to that question because his head suddenly slumped to his chest.
My heart was thumping noisily enough to wake a long-dead corpse; I was panting for breath and had to force myself to inhale and puff the air out normally; my visual perception lessened to a maximum of two feet before me. I was trembling with fear, and my head felt like there was a steel vise clamped to the back of it. Suddenly, there was only one voice I wanted to hear.
“I’ve got to get in touch with Paul.”
The next time you’re in trouble, call Victor.
Had he really meant those words? Was he angry that I had been too much of a coward to call after our fight?
Keith waited patiently as I dialed the number. My hands were shaking and as soon as he answered, a wail came from somewhere deep in my soul.
“Paul, they’re charging me with Annabelle’s murder!”
“What?” It was a gasp.
“Keith is here and he’s taking me to jail.”
“Put him on the phone.”
I passed the receiver to Keith and sobbed as my lawyer explained the situation. Before we left the apartment, Paul got back on the line and promised that he’d move heaven and earth to get me out as quickly as possible.
There was a black, chauffeur-driven limousine parked right in front of my building. The driver jumped out with an umbrella to protect us from the thunderstorm and opened the back door. The partition was kept closed all the way downtown so that the driver couldn’t hear what was said.
Keith patted my hand. “Everything is going to be all right. Is there anyone you want me to call for you?”
“If you’ll just check in on my mother every few hours until I get back, that’ll be enough.”
Keith cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to be insensitive, Jackie, but you really need to concentrate on raising that bail money.”
