Low Pressure

“Okay, blame the gene pool.”

“Meaning?”

“Susan inherited all the ‘it factor’ genes. When I came along, there were no more left.”

“You’re full of crap. Want to know what I think?”

“Actually, no.”

“I think your ex is to blame.”

The flight attendant returned with their drinks before Bellamy had a chance to respond. Dent absently thanked her for the drinks, but his attention stayed fixed on Bellamy, who was made uneasy by his scrutiny. She poured her cola into the glass of ice and took a sip. Finally, because he didn’t relent, she turned to face him. “You’re dying to know?”

“Hmm.”

“He was an up-and-coming electronics engineer in our company. Brilliant. Innovative. Hardworking. Handsome in his own way.”

“Otherwise known as ugly.”

“Average good looks.”

“If you say so.”

“We began going out together after business meetings, first with a group, then by ourselves, and that evolved into actual dating. Olivia and Daddy approved of him one hundred percent. He was pleasant company, he was a gentleman, he was easygoing in any given situation. We got along beautifully. We became engaged at Christmas and were married in June. Lovely wedding with all the trimmings.” She glanced down at the armrest. “Your ice is melting.”

He hadn’t seemed to notice until she’d called his attention to it. Picking up both the small bottles of bourbon, she emptied them into his glass.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She sipped her Coke. He sipped his drink.

Eventually he said, “If that’s the end of the story, then you’re still married to this pleasant, hardworking, brilliant electronics engineer who sounds as boring as hell to me. So does your marriage.”

She took a deep breath before continuing. “Things rocked along nicely for a couple of years. We were compatible. We never fought.” She smiled wanly. “In hindsight, maybe we should have. We weren’t unhappy.”

“Just?”

“Just that there seemed nothing much to look forward to except years of sameness.”

“Monotony.”

“I thought a child might help to—”

“Break up the boredom.”

“Create a newer, stronger bond between us. He agreed. In fact, he loved the idea of a child. We worked on it, and two months later were rewarded by a dual pink stripe on the home pregnancy test.”

She picked up her glass and rattled the ice, but didn’t drink from it. “Olivia and Daddy were over the moon. They wanted a grandchild so badly. Everyone was excited. We were discussing motifs for the nursery, considering names. Then—” After a significant pause, she said, “In the tenth week, I miscarried.”

She was staring into her glass of cola but could feel Dent staring at her. Finally she looked up at him and shrugged. “That was the end of it. I got a D and C. My husband got a girlfriend.”

Chapter 10

Dale Moody glowered suspiciously at his ringing cell phone and debated whether he could be bothered to answer it. After three rings he checked the caller ID. Haymaker. Who had recently warned him that Rupe Collier was on his tail.

Ordinarily it was months between his and Haymaker’s telephone visits. It didn’t bode well that he was calling again so soon.

He answered. “What’s up, Hay?”