Page 28 of Requiem & Reverie

In the meantime, enjoy the video.

There is no attached video, and I click out of the app and open the phone’s files. My pulse hammers out a dizzying pace, and I feel the need to sit down.

Please don’t be Oliver, please don’t be Oliver.

Stumbling out of the bathroom, I make my way to the bed and plop down on the edge, clamping my eyes to settle the spinning of the room. My heart feels three sizes too big inside my chest, as if it’s expanding, using up all the air.

I click on a video saved in his photo library.

A woman’s ass jiggles to the sound of slapping flesh and moans. Red hair is draped across her back, as she looks behind at the cameraman and smiles, her eyes hooded with lust. Even from this angle, I recognize her. Beth. Beyond her, and off to the side, Harv sits on a nearby chair, his fist furiously pumping his cock as he watches what I presume is his wife getting fucked.

By the killer?

In spite of the nauseating nature of the video, like watching amateur porn, I’m relieved to find it isn’t some terrorist-style plea from my son. I blow out a shaky breath and drag my trembling had across my forehead.

“Bet your wife never lets you fuck her in the ass, does she?” Beth asks, and both she and Harv chuckle.

My finger hovers over the button to click out of this shit, but I pause when a hand reaches out and spreads her cheeks, giving the perfect view of a cock entering her. And a familiar watch strapped to his wrist.

Coldness seeps into my chest.

The cameraman groans, squeezing her ass. “Fuck, no, she doesn’t. Think she’s afraid of my dick.”

Denny’s voice skates down my spine, and I slap a hand over my mouth as both anger and disgust move through me in equal measure.

He moans again, the sound of his pleasure churning my stomach. “Fuuuuck. I’m about ready to come all over this hole.”

Beth’s breathy laugh is a sickening sound as she squirms with Denny’s assault. “Do it. Give me your cum, baby.”

“I love that dirty shit. Nola never talks to me like that.”

“You bring Nola over sometime,” Harv says between broken breaths. “She’ll be talking dirty and taking it up the ass in no time.”

All three of them laugh, and the camera shifts toward the mirror, giving me a clear shot of my husband fucking Beth in its reflection. “Hear that, Nola? Look how fun it is to take it up the ass.”

“Mmmm! Yes, baby!” Bethany reaches beneath her body to squeeze her tits. “Feels so good.”

I cut out of the video, tossing the phone onto the bed beside me. The urge to throw up has me racing back into the bathroom, and I just make it in time to expel the small bit of food I ate earlier in the night. Another torrent pumps up my throat and splashes into the toilet water. I flush quickly and pull myself up to the sink to rinse my mouth.

Bastard didn’t even wear a fucking condom.

The sound of moaning echoes through the room once more, and with a beat of panic slamming into my bones, I scramble from the bathroom to find Jonah, holding the phone.

“What is this?” he asks. “Denny?”

A split-second wave of embarrassment ripples through me, quickly trampled by revulsion and the reminder that everyone in that video is probably dead right now.

“Who sent this to you? And whose phone is this?”

“Looks like Denny’s.”

“When did you get it back?”

Scratching the back of my head, I contemplate whether to tell him the truth, or lie. I opt for the truth. The police never retrieved Denny’s phone the night of his murder, and in spite of trying to locate it on GPS, it was never found. For a moment, my thoughts drift to Voss, and the watch I found in his briefcase. I have to remind myself of what Voss told me—that he’s innocent. That his uncle has been orchestrating all of this in an effort to get revenge for Nora.

He could be lying.

That thought crossing my mind, too, tells me Voss isn’t yet entirely excluded as a possibility. At least as an accomplice, anyway.