Saturday, 1:00 p.m.
With Richard helping Thea pack—just in case—Olivia retreated to the master bedroom to do the same. The air there was ten degrees colder than anywhere else in the house. Richard couldn’t sleep if it was warmer than sixty-four degrees. Even then, he splayed out across his special-ordered cooling sheets, feet and arms untucked.
She closed the door, fighting an urge to lock it—if he met with resistance when he turned the knob, it would give her away as surely as the deleted files had.
She moved quickly to her husband’s nightstand. That was where he stored his laptop. When he was deep in a project for work, he would relocate to the office, with its ergonomic chair and standing desk, but for casual use, he sat on the bed, propped against pillows, the laptop resting where its name suggested.
After their earlier conversation, she thought the drawer might be empty, but she found the laptop waiting for her. Probably a test. Didn’t matter. This might be the last time she’d get the chance.
Olivia pulled out the laptop and logged on. It was password-protected, but he’d given her the password long ago. The one to his phone too.
I have no secrets from you, he’d told her.
Olivia suspected he’d installed spyware on the laptop and that he kept a second phone.
Their security system included a control panel in the entryway, sensors on all the doors and windows, and cameras and security lights mounted outside.
The video could be accessed on their phones too. For her, it had been about security, but Richard had always been more concerned about the cameras inside the house.
Her husband liked to watch. He always had, and Olivia had used that when he’d balked at the expense of the new night-vision cameras or questioned why they needed the facial-recognition software. She wished she’d pushed for audio.
The daily video files were viewed and purged regularly. She didn’t know how often, though she suspected he did it every day, especially since he’d already noticed Thursday’s files were missing.
Not all the files were deleted. Some he kept in a folder for repeated viewing. Olivia clicked on that folder first even though she dreaded what she’d find.
There were dozens of videos of Olivia getting undressed, and Richard and Olivia having sex. Watching them, she understood why Richard preferred that she be on top. She got better lighting that way.
There were also dozens of videos of Olivia showering. Even without the date stamp, she could tell which were from the earlier days, before she’d perfected her performance. In these early recordings, she slouched when she shaved her legs. She was rougher with her skin and hair, picking at blemishes and squatting to inspect ingrown toenails. Occasionally, she masturbated.
Later, her pageant training had kicked in, and she’d grown more focused on the arch of her back and her angles. If there’d been awards given for Best Shower Performance, Olivia would’ve swept the category.
She didn’t mind Richard watching, especially if it kept him distracted or kept him coming home. The only videos he’d ever saved had been of her, but now she worried that she hadn’t checked the footage often enough. That worry made her lean into the screen until she’d watched every video. By the time she’d finished, she’d grown sick of seeing her own naked body.
There were no videos of Ellie. No videos that featured anyone other than Olivia. If he’d made any, he’d stored them elsewhere or deleted them.
She switched from the folder marked KEEP to the more recent videos. There were no videos featuring Ellie here either, though there was another one of her showering. She stabbed the Delete key, then glanced at the door. She’d already taken too much time, but she had only a few more hours of video to get through. She had to be sure.
When she was done, Olivia returned to the KEEP folder and emptied it. She closed the laptop—and immediately froze at the soft click of the door opening. She looked up to find Richard watching her from the doorway. He smiled, eyes bright, and she couldn’t tell if he was angry or aroused.
“I knew you’d been on my computer,” he said softly. He held out his hand, indicating he wanted the laptop. “You didn’t need to lie, Liv.”