I told her about looking up Sam and going to his house. About Becca being his daughter and the bracelet. “Remember the bracelet Ivy was wearing the day we looked at the house with Saylor?”
“I don’t recall, sorry,” Hattie said.
Some detective she was. All of the details had to be taken in if you’re investigating. I tended to look more closely at the details because of my line of work. It was the fine details in a photo shoot that made it look perfect. So I guess my skills spilled over into my murder investigating.
“She was wearing an emerald tennis bracelet. I’d assumed it was a twenty dollar Walmart bracelet, but it turns out it was the bracelet Sam had given to Becca when he finally got up the nerve to tell her the truth.”
“Ivy killed her sister!” Hattie sounded as if she knew it all along.
“We don’t know yet. She said she got the bracelet from Austin.”
“No way. Do you believe her?”
I had to admit, her story sounded good. “Ivy’s a good actor. She made us think she didn’t know about her sister, but she did. She told a good and very believable story. But she said she didn’t have a car, and that she was walking the day she ran into Austin. Didn’t she drive up to the house that day?”
“We were in the bedroom when she came in, so I don’t really know.”
I could feel the wrinkles forming permanent marks on my face as I thought about it. “Give me a second,” I said. While I still had Hattie on the phone, I brought up my Facebook app and searched Ivy’s name. I wanted to see if she’d posted any pictures of her car. Then I had a better idea. I closed the app and switched back to my call. “Hattie, I’ll call you back.”
I was trying to decide if Austin could kill Becca. Would he have been in a rage when Becca told him she was pregnant? It could sideline his football career. But if he loved her, they’d make it work. But did he love her? That was a good question.
I couldn’t decide what I wanted to do first. Yes, Hattie had said John warned her to stay away at this point. The warning was for me, too. But something wasn’t sitting right with me. Austin’s Facebook was all football. Nothing about him and Becca. Maybe because it was too new. But football season was over, other than playoffs. And maybe that was over, too. I’d never really talked to Austin, so I didn’t know if he was a nice guy or a jerk. He was nice enough to come in and work for his mom when she was short staffed. And the evidence of steroids, with his size and the acne on his back. But that was speculation. I’d heard of ‘roid rage, but I wasn’t sure he was on steroids.
I almost started the car and drove to Austin’s apartment, but then I decided Marjorie might be a better person to talk to. How close was she with her dead daughter? Her eyes didn’t seem all that red from crying or anything.
I got out of the car and locked it. Walking up to the house, I devised a quick and dirty plan.
“Are you going to keep moving things out?” I asked Marjorie.
“No one else is going to do it. And now that Ivy is at the police station, I have to do it alone.” She brushed her bangs aside with the back of her hand. It wasn’t hot outside, but she was sweating.
Becca did look a lot like her mom. Her mom looked worn out, and not from moving furniture. She wore a purple tube top under a lime green tank top and super short cutoff shorts. She had a body to get away with it, but she looked like her body had been through the ringer. Too many years of hard work and dealing with teenage girls as a single mother or something else? Her hair was gray at the roots. About three inches of gray, then a dark brown. She hadn’t had the time, or maybe didn’t have the inclination to dye it again. She had her hair pulled back at the nape of her neck, but many strands were loose, and sweaty.
“I’m waiting for someone to call me back, so maybe I can help with a few things,” I said.
She looked at me skeptically. “Why would you do that?”
“It’s my fault Ivy isn’t still here, so I’d be happy to help for a little while.” In reality, I dreaded helping. I hated moving. Even moving Tommy into her dorm room was a chore.
“Thanks. The trailer is almost full, but I can fit in a few more things. Then I have to go back to Santa Rosa to unload everything. I don’t suppose you’ll be here in the morning?” she laughed.
“I’m afraid not. But I’m here now. Maybe we can pack some stuff in the Bronco, too. Do you mind?” And this was where my plan ended. “How do you like this Bronco?”
We walked into the house and Marjorie started packing up boxes with dishes from the kitchen. “That’s not my car, it’s Ivy’s. I drive a Camry. I don’t know why she wanted that old Bronco, but it sure does run nice.”
“I’m Willa, by the way,” I said as I grabbed another stained tomato box and started packing a few things myself.
“I’m Marj,” she said.
“Why does Ivy walk around town if she has the Bronco?” I asked.
Marj laughed. “That’s a good one.”
“What do you mean?” I was perplexed at her response.
“Ivy’s lazy as hell. I had to bribe her with money to have her help me move Becca’s stuff out. No way would Ivy walk anywhere. She’d steal someone’s credit card and call Uber before she’d walk a block.”
Marj had no idea how much she’d told me in those words.
“I’m glad my daughter isn’t like that,” I said, picking up my box. “I’ll put this in the car. Is it unlocked?”
Marj didn’t even look up as she tucked newspaper into her box. “Becca wasn’t like Ivy at all. Becca was hardworking and never shied away from physical labor. She even refinished her own furniture. Ivy will expect me to give this stuff to her. No way.” Then she looked up and said, “Oh, yeah, the car is open.”
I didn’t know why I wanted to get into the car, but I felt the need. I thought Ivy was hiding something, but I had no idea what it could have been. When I walked out to the Bronco, I walked around the front and saw a dent on the front bumper. I thought about Becca’s car. It was hard to tell in the dark if there was paint on the bumper, but I’d have thought the cops might have looked at it. Then again, Becca and Ivy lived together. She could have hit Becca’s car in the driveway.
The driver’s side door was actually locked, so I went around to the passenger’s side so I could move the seat forward and put the box in the back. The passenger door was unlocked, so I balanced the heavy box on my knee and the car and opened the door.
I almost lost the box as I leaned over to move the latch that allowed the seat to go forward. I released the latch and grabbed for the box right before it fell. When I turned back to put it in the car, my heart stopped and I dropped the box on the cement driveway.
I left the box and ran to my car, pulling my key from my pocket as I went. I unlocked the door before I got to the car, then swung the door open and reached in to grab my phone.
I hit redial for the last phone number I called.
“John?” I said.
“I guess Hattie called you?” he said.
“She did, but John, I’m still at the house. I was helping Ivy’s mom move some little stuff.”
I was sure he heard the panic in my voice when he said, “What’s wrong?”
“Ivy lied. She never saw Austin.” Then I stopped, not knowing if I should ask a question or just tell him. “John, I found Becca’s glasses under the seat in Ivy’s car.”
There was no response.
“John, did you hear me? Becca didn’t have glasses on when you found her, did she?”
Under his breath, he said, “Well, we only catch the stupid ones.”
“Is she still with you?”
“Willa, I need you to go to Hattie’s house right away. Stay there. I’m sending Anita to Becca’s house now. Did you touch anything?”
I had to think. Obviously, I touched the car door. “I did. I opened the car, and I touched the latch to move the front seat.”
“Nothing we can do about that. I’ll figure out an explanation. Go to Hattie’s
and wait for me. I’ll call or stop by when I’m done here.”
The urgency in his tone made me get in my car and drive to Hattie’s without a second thought.
Chapter Nineteen
Hattie greeted me at the door, and I told her everything that had happened after her phone call without even entering the house.
“Come in and have a glass of wine.” She opened the door wide. “John called and told me you were coming. He said we needed to stay here. ‘Don’t go anywhere,’ he said.”
I had no intention of going anywhere. I couldn’t believe I’d almost been duped by that manipulative little girl. What was I saying, she was twenty-something years old. She wasn’t a little girl, and she knew all too well how to play a person.
It was after midnight before John arrived at Hattie’s, and we’d had a few glasses of wine. I’d pay for that in the morning.
He knocked hard on the door, and I jumped up to answer.
“Come in,” I said. I wanted to ask right away what happened, but I waited.
John walked back to the kitchen, but we’d been sitting on the veranda. A nice fire was going in the middle of the gas fueled fire feature of Hattie’s glass table. He looked around, then headed straight to the backyard.
Hattie looked up and said, “Wine or beer?”
John didn’t answer. He walked over to the outdoor kitchen fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer. After taking a long swig, he said, “That girl is a piece of work.”
I sat down and picked up my wine glass. “What do you mean?”
Hattie scooted over on the love seat and John sat next to her. “I’ve heard a lot of lies in my lifetime, but that girl takes it. She had a story to blame everyone, including you.” He looked at me.
“Me?” I laughed.
“It took a few hours, but we finally got her to break down. It didn’t hurt that she’d been stupid enough to tell Randy what she did. But it was only a matter of time. Randy needed to make a deal.”
Hattie turned in her seat to look directly at John. “What happened? Stop keeping us in suspense.”
John looked at us both before saying, “This stays right here. You can’t even tell Peter or Ruth. Understand?”
I was pretty sure Hattie and I would have done a pinkie swear at that moment.
“I say this because it’s not my case, it’s Anita’s.”
I looked at Hattie. “You need to make nice with her. And John, are you sleeping with Anita or what?”
Hattie dropped her wine glass and it shattered on the tile.
John looked at it, but he didn’t seem to care. Hattie jumped up and ran to the corner of the veranda.
As she walked back with a small broom and dustpan, John was saying, “Is that what this is all about?” He looked at Hattie, who refused to meet his eyes as she concentrated on cleaning up the broken glass. “Hattie, were you jealous?” He sounded amused.
“No, it’s not that. But people have seen you two around town, looking chummy. Sitting on the same side in booths and sitting close.” There, it was me saying it, not Hattie.
John threw his head back and laughed. “We are working a case. We’ve been meeting in public so everyone would see that the sheriff’s department was collaborating with the city cops, and that we have a good working relationship. It’s all about image.” He continued to laugh. “So, no, I’m not sleeping with her. She doesn’t even like men.”
Hattie froze. Then she pushed the rest of the glass into the dustpan and left it sitting as she sat back down. “See?” she said to me. “That’s what I was trying to tell, Willa. I didn’t think you were her type.”
Instead of calling Hattie on the carpet for her blatant lie, I said, “So what happened with Randy and Ivy?”
John stopped laughing. “He must really love that girl. He knew something, but he wouldn’t give her up. He only admitted that Ivy told him Becca had moved. I could tell he was keeping something from us. So we went to Ivy and gave her a chance to tell her side. And boy, did she tell a good story. Not the real story, but a good one all the same. If we hadn’t had the evidence in hand, she might have been believable.”
“Did she finally confess?”
“Not really, but she admitted she and Becca had a huge fight.”
“I saw the fight in the restaurant. But when Becca left, Ivy went to the bathroom.”
“Not that fight. Apparently, Ivy had stayed with Becca off and on and knew she went to the park to think. She followed her to the park. But when she got there, she was standing by another car. It was Sam. He told us all about meeting with Becca and telling her what he knew.”
“We know this part,” Hattie complained.
John grimaced at Hattie’s impatience. “Ivy watched from a distance, and when she saw Becca with an older man, she wondered what was up. When Sam left, Ivy confronted Becca.”
“So they had another fight? What about this time?” I asked.
“Ivy said she was so jealous because Becca always got everything: the boy, the education, the good job, and now she had a dad, too. I guess Marjorie didn’t know who Ivy’s father was. And when Becca’s father tracked her down after all of these years, Ivy flipped out.”
“That’s a stupid thing to get mad about,” Hattie said.
“That’s not all. Becca also told Ivy she was pregnant. That’s what put Ivy over the top. Randy had made her get an abortion only a few months earlier. Ivy so badly wanted a family of her own. She was screaming and crying when she told me the story, saying ‘She always got everything before I did. I was so mad I got in my car to leave because I couldn’t look at her.’”
“Spoiled brat much?” I said.
“That’s when she ran Becca over with her car.”
“I thought you said she was strangled?” I said.
“She was. Ivy said it was an accident and she panicked. She said Becca stepped out in front of the car to stop her, and she accidentally stepped on the gas instead of the brake. She was on parole, so she knew she couldn’t call the police. Or so she said anyway. So she dragged Becca’s body into her car, then went back and moved Becca’s car. She left it on the side of the road with the door open because she had to get back to Becca.”
“Was she dead?” Hattie asked.
“No, at least with the way Ivy finally told the story. She drove her to a field and pushed her out of the car, then she remembered the bruise on her arm, from Randy dragging her. She didn’t want her prints on Becca. So she took the fabric belt off her blouse, wrapped it around her neck, then dragged her out to the long grass. So if Becca wasn’t dead before, she was by then.”
“I don’t get it. Just because Becca’s dad tracked her down?”
“Marjorie Roundhouse finally came to the police station when Ivy didn’t call her to be picked up. She was floored, but she said Ivy had promised she didn’t do it.”
“And she believed her?” I asked.
“She said she was afraid not to. No one wants to think their kid can kill. Much less kill their sibling.”
He had a point, but Marjorie had to suspect something.
“She broke down and told us about another time, when Becca made the cheerleading squad and Ivy didn’t. Ivy tried to drown Becca in the apartment swimming pool.”
“No way,” I said. “And no charges?”
“No one ever knew. Becca agreed to quit cheerleading and never said anything to anyone. But she had a diary and Marjorie found it a few years later. By then, it was too late. Or so she thought.” John’s voice was getting hoarse.
“So Ivy killed her sister out of envy,” Hattie said quietly. “I feel the need to call my sister and tell her I love her.”
“Me too,” I said.
John downed the last of his beer. “Now ladies, remember, this stays here. There’s still an active investigation. We need more evidence to prove it was premeditated, and not an accident.”
We both gave our scout’s honor, and I got up to leave.
“I’ll let you two talk about
something else for a while. I’m tired and going home.”
Hattie jumped up. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
I put my hand up. “I know where it is. You can yell at me tomorrow.”
I took a deep breath and sighed. I had really hoped it was Randy or Austin. At least they weren’t related to Becca.
When I got home, Peter was in the kitchen, cleaning up his mess from baking late night cookies. “Where have you been?”
“At your mom’s. Late night of investigating.” I wanted so badly to tell him more.
“Want a beer?” He lifted the open beer he had in his hand. It was a Summer Shandy.
Exhausted, I said, “I do.”
Peter opened the freezer and pulled out a bottle for me, then put the remaining ones in the refrigerator. “Ice cold,” he said as he twisted the cap.
I took the bottle from him and kissed him on the lips. “I love you,” I said.
It had been a very long time since I’d said those words to him, and I felt the need to let him know.
He held me close and whispered, “I love you, too.”
Willa Friday Valentine’s Day Recipes
Chocolate Champagne Truffles
Ingredients
12 ounces white chocolate (chopped)
1/4 cup heavy cream
2 ounces butter (softened)
1/4 cup champagne
1 pound white chocolate candy coating
Preparation
1. Chop 12 ounces of white chocolate and put in a heat proof bowl.
2. Heat heavy cream in a small saucepan, bringing to a low boil over medium heat. Immediately pour the cream over the chopped chocolate. Let the cream and chocolate sit for a minute, then whisk until all chocolate is melted and the mixture is thoroughly mixed.
3. Add champagne to cream and chocolate and whisk until well blended.
4. Add the butter, and whisk until smooth.
5. Cover bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate until chilled enough to scoop.
6. Scoop candy out of the bowl with a small candy scoop and hand form into balls. Dust hands with powdered sugar to keep candy from sticking to hands. Place on parchment paper.
Mousse, Moscato & Murder Page 14
