Saturday, 11:15 a.m.
Richard rubbed the hard lump of tension that swelled between Olivia’s shoulders.
Olivia counted to ten before pulling away from his probing fingers. When she turned to face him, she could just make out the gold flecks in his hazel irises, one of the first things she’d noticed about him and one of her favorite things still. Richard had a thoughtful face, if not a traditionally handsome one. In the past year, his dark hair had started to silver, and his smile lines had grown more pronounced. Until a week ago, she’d loved that he smiled enough to create such deep creases. She would trace them, enjoying the fit of her fingertip in the grooves. She and Richard had always fit like that before, even when she’d been broken.
After a moment, she said, “I’m sorry Meredith was so horrible to you.”
“She wasn’t that bad.”
She caught the half grin that made clear he was joking. She tried to smile in return. A sign that everything was still okay between them.
“She was awful,” Olivia said.
“What’re you talking about? She told me I was brilliant.” He puffed his chest in mock pride. “Fucking brilliant, she said.”
“That was sarcasm.”
“So I guess she didn’t mean the part about me being handsome either?”
Olivia managed a laugh. “She didn’t say that.”
“She did. ‘Olivia must’ve married you for your looks,’ she said. You really don’t remember that?”
“I believe she followed that by calling you a moron.”
“Ah, yes. Apparently her new nickname for me. I think it means we’re best friends now.”
“You wouldn’t want her as a friend.” She stepped away from him, her attention sharpening on the woods. She wished she’d never come to Ridgepoint. Rocky had sold Richard on his dream, but with all that had happened, now Olivia could see only the neglect and rot.
Ringing the street where the Durans lived, lots cleared for houses had been left to the weeds; unfinished roads led nowhere. Roads became trails until they, too, ended, the land returned to rugged ground and dense canopy that threw dangers into shadow. In this wild, Adam had broken his ankle as a child, and even Leyna had gotten lost once or twice. Meredith had never kept a close enough eye on her daughters.
Then there were the squatters. A few years back, a family had holed up in a small A-frame cabin left over from the days when the property had been a working ranch. They’d trapped deer and other animals to eat and manufactured hash oil for cash until the cabin had grown too rotted to withstand winter.
There were also the occasional campers seeking refuge on their way to something better—if they were lucky. Once, after a particularly harsh winter, a body had been found only a mile into the forest. But this wasn’t a city mile. This was a bring-your-compass-and-bottled-water mile. The last time Olivia had hiked that deep into the woods, her thighs had burned for a full day, and she’d gotten blisters despite wearing thick socks and her best boots.
They should never have moved there.
Olivia shook off the dread, though she knew it would return for her. It always did.
“You could’ve just told her you were putting the trimmer away,” she said.
“We don’t owe her an explanation.”
“You’re right. She’s just…” She was surprised at the crack in her voice. She and Meredith had been friendly once. Not friends, exactly, but close enough that her neighbor had trusted her girls with Aunt Olivia, and Meredith hadn’t felt the need to scream at her husband in front of their home.
“I know it’s difficult, especially when she acts like she did today,” he said, “but we should try to remember—she’s lost a child too.”
The knot between Olivia’s shoulders tightened again. A hurricane gathered in her chest. “Are you saying I should forgive her?”
“Absolutely not,” he said. “We should stay as far away as possible from that family. I just hate seeing you upset.”
He bent to kiss her neck, his lips lingering near her ear as he whispered, “Have you been on my computer?”
Her body stiffened before she could stop it. She tried to cover with feigned worry. “Someone’s been on your computer?”
He returned to working the knot. “It’s fine if you have, you know.” His breath was warm against her neck. “The cameras are to keep you and Thea safe. You’re welcome to look at the footage anytime.”
She leaned against his massaging fingers and moaned—the only useful thing she’d taken from her mother’s disastrous attempt to make her into a beauty queen was learning how to fake it—but her whole body had turned to ice. “It wasn’t me,” she said. “Why would you think someone has been on your computer?”
He laughed. That close, the sound boomed and her eardrums throbbed. “Really, it’s fine, Liv.”
She played into the rigidity her body had used to betray her. “It wasn’t me,” she repeated, voice icy. If in doubt, pick a fight.
He leaned back and held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, okay, I believe you. I must have deleted the files by accident.”
Olivia shifted to better read his expression. She realized immediately that was a bad idea, since it meant he could read hers too, and he’d always been the better liar. Though he smiled, his eyes sparked. Would he forgive her if she came clean now? But she couldn’t do that. They both had their secrets, and she was starting to be afraid of what he might do to protect his.
“What files are missing?” she asked, because that was the question he would expect of someone who’d done nothing wrong.
“Just the recordings from Thursday.”
She should’ve erased the whole damn week. “That’s too bad. The police might want those, since that’s the day that girl went missing.”
She watched his face for signs of guilt, but it lacked any trace of guile. He brushed her hair off her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Liv,” he said, though she had no idea what he was apologizing for. Accusing her falsely? The affairs? Something worse?
Richard pulled her gently against his chest, and she could feel his heartbeat, steady and slow. “It doesn’t really matter about the videos anyway,” he said. “I back up everything.”