take that away from us.” He gave Benton a good shake and Dwight’s gaze dropped to her hand. “What’s with the knife?”
Charlotte looked at the kitchen knife she’d forgotten to put down after she read Dwight’s note. “I was cutting onions.” There was still translucent skin on the edge of the blade. Her husband was right. She did want that life he could give her. An illustrious, prominent life they could only achieve together, with his charisma and her connections. She knew people, wealthy people, through her parents. But thanks to Dwight’s penchant for violence and her forgetfulness (The fucking condom!), not to mention her refusal to get rid of the baby (She was Catholic, after all.), Benton was now in the way. He would report Dwight to the authorities and see her as an accomplice. They would be ruined. Her dear children would grow up without their mommy and daddy. She’d give birth locked up in a cage like an animal. They couldn’t have that.
She plunged the knife she’d just used to chop up dinner into Benton’s gut. She’d recently sharpened the knife and the blade went in smoothly. His eyes widened in shock, and for a split second she felt mirth dancing in hers. Fascinating. Slicing through flesh is like carving a chicken.
She stabbed him again and again and again as Dwight watched on with horrified interest, as if he was stunned his wife could commit such a monstrous act, until he snapped out of his stupor and bellowed, “Enough!” He dragged Benton’s limp, lifeless body farther into the ocean. They watched the tide take her lover away.
“We need to get rid of the knife,” Dwight said when he returned to her side.
“But I have to finish dinner.” She rinsed off the blade and her hand in the cold water.
He took the knife from her and helped her up the steep berm. “Afterward then. I’ll hide the entire set in the old house’s attic.”
“Mommy?”
Charlotte froze. Dwight swore under his breath. He squeezed Charlotte’s hand with a bruising grip. “What did she see?” he whispered harshly.
“How the fuck do I know?” Charlotte spat. “Olivia, darling, what are you doing here?” she asked, trying not to panic. Children talk. They always do. She’d tell on them. Not directly, but something or someone would trigger a memory and Olivia would start babbling.
Olivia’s nightgown swirled around her ankles. She clutched her rag doll. Wise green eyes too big for her head blinked innocently at Charlotte. Olivia leaned to the left, trying to see behind them. She pointed at the water. “Who’s that man?”
“Shit,” Dwight muttered.
Charlotte was sweating. “That’s a seal, darling,” she said, her voice pitching upward.
Olivia’s nose scrunched up. “Why’s the seal wearing clothes?”
“Don’t be silly, Livy. Seals don’t wear clothes.” Charlotte’s laugh was maniacal.
Dwight jerked her arm. “What if she tells someone?”
“She won’t because you’ll get her to believe she didn’t see anything and that we weren’t here.”
“Charlotte—” He growled. “I’m not gaslighting our daughter.”
“You’ll do whatever it takes to keep her from talking,” she said through her teeth. She poked him hard in the chest. “None of this happened. You hear me? We never speak of this again, and that includes Olivia.”
“She’ll have nightmares for life. This will mess her up.”
“No, it won’t, because you’re her daddy and she trusts you. Keep her close. Make her forget. She’s only five for fuck’s sake. Now get her out of here.” Charlotte discreetly took back the knife, positioning her body so Olivia wasn’t left with the image of her mommy carrying the murder weapon. If her daughter recalled anything, it wouldn’t be her holding the blade.
“Upsy-daisy, Princess.” Dwight picked up Olivia. “You must be cold.”
“Really cold.” She giggled. “I love you, Daddy.”
“Love you, too, Princess.”
Charlotte looked back at the ocean one last time. It was too dark to see Benton. Poor man. He never had a chance when he confronted Dwight.
Hair flew into her face. Wind slammed into her back. She stumbled. Spooked, she looked down at the water. The ocean wanted her. Too bad. It couldn’t have her. Not today.
CHAPTER 38
Two weeks after Dwight’s death, Olivia buried her dad’s cremated remains with only Blaze at her side. It wasn’t so much a funeral as it was a goodbye to a man Olivia barely knew. Dwight might not have murdered Benton St. John, but he had a hand in the man’s demise.
Dwight’s autopsy report showed his blood alcohol was above the legal limit. His death was ruled an accident. Whatever role