Imani heard more footsteps, followed by a door slam. She’d accused the woman of murder and still Tonya wouldn’t leave her house. That meant one of two things, Imani decided. Either her tenant was innocent, or she was even more dangerous than Imani had ever imagined.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

TONYA

Tonya pressed her back to the closed bedroom door and slid to the floor. Her hands were still shaking from the confrontation with Imani. If Philip’s wife made good on her promises, everything Tonya had feared and more would come to pass. The world would know that she’d slept with Nate in hopes of landing parts in his movies. At best, Layla’s classmates and parents would think her mom a sort of escort, willing to trade her body for opportunity and fame rather than money. At worst, they’d believe her a homewrecker who’d murdered a man after she’d grown sick of him denying her child.

She grabbed her suitcase from the closet, tossed it atop the bed, and pulled the zipper. The top flopped open. Frantically, she turned her attention to the dresser, yanking drawers free and gathering the contents in her arms. If she left, maybe Imani would keep quiet. Deep down, Philip’s wife had to realize that her theory of Nate’s murder was baseless. She had to know that the worst Tonya had done was have sex with a married man.

Tonya dumped a load of clothes into the bag and then stopped. The truth didn’t matter to Imani, she realized. The woman was trying to create reasonable doubt for her friend. Whether Tonya left or not wouldn’t stop her from offering police another explanation of the crime to explore. The truth wasn’t the point. Imani only cared about providing cover for Melissa.

Tonya rubbed her hands quickly over her face, using the friction to force herself to focus. If leaving wouldn’t help, perhaps appealing to Philip would. He couldn’t believe his wife’s crazy hypothesis. He knew her. Respected her, even. He would listen to reason.

Or bargaining.

Philip had killed his father. Tonya was nearly sure of it. In fancy restaurants, the garde-manger oversaw all the cold food: chilled soups, caviars, salads, smoked fish, and pâtés. He would have known if his father’s chicken liver had been fattened with peanut butter. He would have been the one to introduce the secret ingredient.

As much as Tonya liked Philip, she knew that he was prone to bursts of anger. She’d witnessed several in the time that she’d known him. And he’d indicated that his father had been physically abusive. Perhaps he’d added a bit of his dad’s allergen in hopes of making the man too sick and tired to start an argument later. Or maybe he’d decided that he’d had enough and wanted to inflict similar pain.