Sandra Brown - Low Pressure

She came out of her chair. “So you’ve said. I don’t need to hear it again.”

He stood up and rounded the table to stand toe-to-toe with her. “Yeah, you do. Because somebody has moved past vexed. He’s good and truly pissed off. And he’s gonna be even more pissed off when it comes out tomorrow that maybe the case wasn’t as tightly sewn up as believed. Susan’s murder is going to be given a good, hard second look. I’ve got a hunch that’s not going to sit well with whoever scrawled that warning on your wall.”

She was staring up at him in defiance and denial of every word.

“You think I’m wrong?” he asked.

She opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly the starch went out of her. She lowered her head and rubbed her temples with her fingertips. “I wish you were, but I don’t think you are.”

He backed down. “Okay,” he said in a softer voice, “who’s the mystery guest?”

“I don’t know.”

“You need to find out before his little pranks turn really ugly.”

She lowered her hand from her face and looked up at him. “Brilliant idea. How do you suggest going about it?”

“We start with the people who were directly involved. Begin with the key players and work outward, eliminating them one by one, until the son of a bitch is left standing, exposed.”

“ We ? What about the police?”

“Do you think Starsky and Hutch there are going to go digging into an eighteen-year-old murder case?”

“They investigate cold cases.”

“Not after the culprit has already been caught and convicted.”

“Convictions are overturned all the time.”

“But they’ve got to have a compelling reason to reopen the case. Can you provide them one?”

She shook her head.

“Right. My opinion? They’ll wait until you’re physically assaulted and/or dead before they take the threat seriously, because they probably concluded that it had something to do with me. And you believe I’m right. If you didn’t, you would have spilled the whole sordid story to them while they were here. You saved yourself the breath because you have no more faith in their getting to the bottom of this than I do. And I have none. Which leaves it up to us.”

“What do you know about police work?”

“Only that I don’t trust it.”

“You would drop everything and—”

“I’m grounded, remember? I’ve got nothing else to do. Besides, I have a vested interest in finding this jerk. And when I do, for what he did to my airplane, I’m going to bash in his skull.”

“Lovely. Do you expect me to be your accomplice?”

“Get this straight.” He took a step, bringing them closer. “I don’t play nice, Bellamy. I never have.”

After a taut moment, she broke his hard stare. “All right. For the time being, at least, we’ll help each other. But where do we start? Who do we start with?”

He went to the chair she’d left empty moments earlier and held it for her. “We start with you.”

“Me ?” Bellamy exclaimed.

“You were as close to Susan as anyone. You were with her all that day until just before she was killed. Talk me through everything that happened from your point of view.”

“I did that with the lead character in my book. I wrote it from the viewpoint of a twelve-year-old girl.”

“I skipped the long paragraphs and only read the dialogue.”

“You still know what happened.”

“Not the behind-the-scenes stuff.”

“That’s the stuff in the long paragraphs.”

“Is there something you don’t want me to know?”

“No, of course not.”

“Well, then. I wasn’t at the barbecue, remember? I need details.”

“You could go back to the book and read the parts you skipped.”

“Or you could just tell me.”

She gnawed her lower lip. He cocked his head to one side, prompting her. Then she suddenly began to talk, as though fearing she might change her mind if she didn’t.

“Daddy had initiated the company-wide Memorial Day barbecue two years earlier. It was the first party he and Olivia hosted as a married couple. Daddy used the occasion to establish Olivia as the new Mrs. Howard Lyston and to introduce Steven as his adopted son.”

Dent held up his hand. “Detail. If your dad adopted him, why didn’t he change his name to Lyston?”

“Olivia would have preferred it, I think. But Steven wanted to honor his late father by keeping his name.”

“Hmm. Okay. So the barbecue became an annual event. Brisket and ribs, kegs of beer, live music, dancing. Red, white, and blue banners.”

“Blue Bell ice cream. Fireworks at nine-thirty.”

“Quite a shindig.”

“Nevertheless, it had its detractors.” With her fingertip she followed a trickle of condensation as it slid down the side of her glass of tea. “There was a row at the breakfast table that morning. Steven didn’t want to go to the barbecue. He called the whole thing dumb. Olivia told him, dumb or not, he was going. Susan was acting like a bitch royale because…” She shifted her gaze up to him. “Because of the fight she’d had with you.”

“I came over on my motorcycle early—”

“Waking everyone up.”

“Someone inside the house had to activate the gate so I could get in.”

“It was me.”

“See? A detail I didn’t know. Anyway, I had to come early because Susan hadn’t answered her phone. I didn’t want to leave a message, but I had to tell her that I’d be late to the barbecue.”

“You were going flying with Gall.”

“He’d been doing some repairs on this guy’s plane and wanted to take it up, check things out. He asked me if I wanted to go along. I jumped at the chance. I told Susan I would hook up with her at the barbecue when we got back.”

“That didn’t go over well.”

“To put it mildly. She blew a gasket and issued an ultimatum. Take her to the barbecue when it started, or don’t bother coming at all. I told her I was going flying with Gall. She said fine, she’d have more fun without me.”

“She was in a snit. She told me…” She hesitated, then said, “She said she’d rather die than play second fiddle to that nasty old man.”

Those portentous words silenced them for several moments, then Bellamy picked up the story. “She was determined to teach you a lesson. Over Daddy’s protests, she drove her own car to the park. She left ahead of us, and I remember thinking how gorgeous she looked when she sailed out the door.

“She was wearing a new sundress, one that Olivia had bought her for the occasion. The blue color set off her eyes. Her legs were smooth and tan. Her hair was golden, shiny, and perfect. In fact, everything about her looked perfect to me.” She laughed softly. “Probably because I was so imperfect.”

“You improved. A lot.” He teamed his drawled compliment with a lazy-eyed once-over that he could tell flustered her.

“I wasn’t fishing for a compliment.”

“Well, you caught one anyway.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He shot her a teasing grin, then returned to the serious nature of the topic. “Susan went on ahead.”

“Yes, despite Daddy and Olivia’s wishes that we arrive together and present a solid family unit. She insisted on having her own way. I admired her daring, because I was just the opposite. I never disobeyed, never went against what my parents wanted and expected of me. I was the Miss Goody Two-Shoes of the family.”

“Cooperative by nature?”

“Or simply a coward. I was also so happy to finally have a mother, I didn’t want to do anything to disrupt the new family.”