Low Pressure

“I told her precisely what I was thinking, that she was a disgrace, that she was unspeakably vile and amoral. She sighed theatrically, pushed herself away from the tree, and said, ‘Spare me.’ When she sauntered past me, she pulled her skirt aside so it wouldn’t come into contact with me. That was the last straw.

“Before I knew it, my hand had shot out, and I’d taken a tight grip on her arm. She told me to let go, but I only moved in closer. And that’s when… when… when I told her to leave Steven alone.”

Bellamy gasped. “You knew about her and Steven?”

“So did you, it seems.”

“Not until this week. He told me when I went to Atlanta. You knew back then, when it was happening?”

She turned her head away so that her cheek was resting on the pillow. “God help me.”

Bellamy was more astounded by this than Olivia’s confession to killing Susan. “Why didn’t you do something to stop it?”

“Susan knew why,” she said, barely above a whisper. “I told her that if she came near Steven again I was going to tell Howard. She laughed in my face. ‘Who do you think you’re kidding, Olivia?’ She knew I wouldn’t tell him because it would have shattered him, and our family.

“She was Howard’s daughter. He would have felt an obligation to support her. My loyalty would have been with Steven. It would have torn us apart. Our marriage. Everything. I wouldn’t let that little tramp destroy us.”

“But—”

“I know, Bellamy. I know. She destroyed the family anyway. But on that day, I tried to make my threat believable. I told her again to leave Steven alone. She got right in my face and said, ‘Not as long as that broody little faggot can get it up.’”

Olivia stared blankly at the opposite wall for a long, silent moment, then slowly brought her head back around to look at Bellamy. “She walked—sashayed—away, swinging the skirt of her sundress.

“I didn’t plan it. I just reacted with rage. I bent down and grabbed a broken tree limb that was lying on the ground, and hit her in the back of the head with all my might. She fell facedown. I untied the bow at my neck and took it off.” She raised her shoulders in a slight shrug. “It was like watching someone else. It was remarkably easy. When I realized that she was dead, I insulted her by flipping up her skirt.”

Neither said anything for a while. Bellamy stared at Olivia’s composed face. Olivia stared at the ceiling.

Bellamy stirred. “I must ask. Did Daddy know? Or have so much as an inkling?”

Olivia’s face crumpled. “No, no.” Then in a mournful tone, she added, “Sometimes I would catch him watching me. Thoughtfully. Frowning. And it caused me to wonder…”

“He never asked?”

“No.”

Bellamy wondered if perhaps he hadn’t asked because he didn’t want to know. Maybe he had commissioned her to get to the truth in order to vindicate not Allen Strickland, but Olivia. He hadn’t wanted to die with even a smidgen of suspicion that his beloved wife had taken his daughter’s life.

They would never know his mind, and Bellamy was actually relieved that they wouldn’t.

“Does Steven know?” she asked quietly. “He told me himself that he was glad Susan was dead.”

“No. But I let it slip today that I knew what she was doing to him. That’s why he left.”

Bellamy’s heart sank as Olivia described the scene. “I begged his forgiveness, but he refused to listen. He locked me out of their room and when he opened the door, their bags were packed, and a taxi was waiting to take them to the airport. I pleaded with him to stay and talk it out, but he wouldn’t even look at me. Which is the worst possible punishment for what I did.”

She took a moment as though collecting her thoughts, then said, “I deceived myself into thinking that Allen Strickland’s conviction was a sign from God that he was granting me a second chance.

“Steven suffered, and so did you to some extent, but Howard and I had almost two decades of happiness. I made myself believe that killing Susan was justified, and that’s why I’d gotten away with it.” She sighed. “But things don’t work that way, do they?”

“No they don’t,” Bellamy said softly. “Because you have to tell the authorities, Olivia. Allen Strickland deserves to be exonerated. So does Dent, Steven, anyone who came under suspicion. You must clear them.”

Olivia nodded. “I’m not afraid anymore. I’ve lost Howard. Now Steven. Nothing worse can happen to me.”

Bellamy suddenly realized that, except for her head, Olivia hadn’t moved. Her face was wet with tears, yet she hadn’t pulled a tissue from the box on the bedside table.

“Olivia?”

Her eyes had closed, and she didn’t respond.