Wicked Reunion
Page 8
Jack worked his jaw. “I still don’t understand.”
“I know things have been happening with Ivy,” Michael offered. “I know that she’s been able to ... do things.”
Jack remained still, unsure how to answer. He was uncertain how much Ivy had shared with her parents when it came to her burgeoning abilities. “Okay,” he said finally.
Michael smirked. “Loyal no matter what, huh? That’s one of the reasons I know you’re perfect for her. You understand her, even when she frustrates you.”
“It’s gone beyond frustration this time. I swear I’m getting an ulcer.”
“You’re fine.”
“That’s what she said.”
“You’ve got a dramatic streak,” Michael noted. “You can’t seem to help yourself from overreacting where she’s concerned. You can’t change who you are. Ivy accepts that. You need to accept that Ivy can’t look away when there’s a mystery that needs to be solved. It’s ingrained in her.”
“But ... what does that have to do with the other thing?”
“You mean her abilities?” Michael’s eyes twinkled. “You don’t have to hide what she can do. She’s mentioned a few things here and there. Her brother also has a huge mouth. What I’m trying to say is that I think Ivy could do things even back then.”
Understanding dawned on Jack. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Michael bobbed his head. “None of us could fathom how she managed to carry it off. Hank Stewart’s house — which is where Margaret was staying — was located way on the other side of town.
“Ivy spent days telling us that Margaret had gone missing even though I couldn’t understand how she possibly knew that,” he continued. “Ivy wasn’t allowed down on her property and, in truth, she had no interest in being there. She preferred hanging around at her fairy ring.
“Still, Ivy was adamant that Margaret had completely fallen off the planet and was convinced that she needed to be found. So she started asking questions around town. Her mother and I allowed it because we were honestly curious ... and it’s not as if there were a lot of strangers to worry about.
“Ivy even tried to get Brian involved, wanted him to put out an APB.” Michael chuckled at the memory. “She used all the knowledge she’d gained from cop shows to convince him. Brian was always good with her and he listened when she told him why she was upset. He visited Margaret’s house and was concerned himself. There was honestly nothing he could do, though.”
Jack nodded in understanding. “Adults are allowed to go voluntarily missing on their own accord whenever they want. Unless he had a reason to believe foul play had befallen this woman, his hands were tied.”
“That’s what he told Ivy,” Michael confirmed. “It was over ice cream. I remember. We all sat her down to explain she was getting a little manic about things. She didn’t want to listen, though, and refused to back off even though we ordered her to take a step back.
“Then, about twenty-four hours after the intervention, Ivy came racing up to me and said she’d found Margaret and I had to come,” he continued. “I thought she’d lost her mind, but she was so insistent that I went with her. Do you know what I found?”
“Yeah. Margaret.”
Michael chuckled. “I did find her ... and Hank. They were naked and playing games in the yard behind the house. I told Ivy she had to leave, but it was too late. She’d already called Brian. The sight of a police car on the street garnered attention from all the neighbors and there was a whole crowd there within a few minutes.”
“So ... you’re saying she basically outed an affair,” Jack mused. “That couldn’t have made her popular with the impacted parties.”
“Not with Hank and Margaret certainly. Hank’s wife Joyce, however, rewarded Ivy with a big box of candy. She got quite the settlement in her divorce, which made Margaret unhappy because that meant Hank was poor.”
Even though he didn’t get the point of the story, Jack barked out a laugh. “I will just bet that Ivy loved all the attention.”
“She was pretty proud of herself,” Michael agreed. “Do you know why I told you that story?”
“So I would picture her as a tiny detective and forget I’m annoyed with her.”
Michael’s grin spread. “No, because you need to understand that she is who she is and that’s never going to change. I want to remind you that you fell in love with the person she is. You can’t go getting angry for no good reason now.”
Jack scowled. “So, this was all a way to tell me I’m being a big baby.”
“Pretty much.”
Jack held his future father-in-law’s gaze for a beat. “I love her,” he said finally. “I can’t face the thought of losing her. I don’t want to change her. I just ... need to keep her safe. I don’t know how to do it on this one.”
“I would suggest working with her rather than against her. You might think you’re trying to protect her. She won’t see it that way. She’ll chafe under the pressure. If she feels she needs answers on this — and why wouldn’t she given how it all happened? — then you’ve got to a find a way to help rather than hinder her.”
What the man said made sense. That didn’t mean Jack wasn’t still annoyed. “She’s a lot of work.”
“She is. Are you telling me she’s not worth that work?”
“She’s worth ten times that much work. I just ... I don’t like this detective. He worries me. Why he would think Ivy is involved is beyond me, but he could make life difficult for her.”
“And you by extension.”
“I don’t care about that.” Jack let loose a haphazard wave. “I care about her. She’s worked up over this community service thing. I just want it to be over with so she realizes it’s not a big deal. The judge didn’t have a choice. He wanted to let her off. That would’ve looked bad at Lucy’s trial, though, and we didn’t want to risk the prosecution going sideways.”
“I think, deep down at least, Ivy realizes that,” Michael said. “She’s never been good with change, though, and this will be a big change. She’ll be fine after the first day, when she understands how things are going to go. You don’t need to worry about her.”
Jack wanted to believe him, so he did. “You know, I think I’m going to like having you as a father-in-law. You’re pretty level-headed.”
“That’s good since you and Ivy tend to fly off the handle.”
“That’s her more than me.”
“If you say so.”
IVY WASN’T LYING WHEN SHE SAID one of Bethany’s neighbors was out and about. The woman in question looked to be in her seventies if Ivy had to guess, and she was working on her garden when Ivy approached.
“Excuse me.”
The woman turned quickly, seemingly surprised to be addressed out of the blue, and her brow furrowed as she looked up and down the street. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying.”
“I’m not selling anything,” Ivy reassured her quickly. “I’m actually here for information on your neighbor Bethany Parker.”
The clarification only seemed to confuse the woman more. “I don’t know her very well.”
“Okay, well ... can you tell me anything?”
“I don’t know you at all,” the woman replied. “Why should I tell you anything? You’re clearly not a cop ... unless they’ve lightened up on the dress code.” She narrowed her eyes. “Is your hair pink?”
Ivy swallowed her discomfort and plowed forward. “I’m not a cop,” she agreed. “My name is Ivy Morgan. I own a nursery over in Shadow Lake.”
“Then shouldn’t you be babysitting your charges?”
“It’s a plant nursery.”
“Really?” For the first time since Ivy approached, the woman looked intrigued. “Do you know things about plants?”
The change in the woman’s demeanor was remarkable and Ivy didn’t know what to make of it. “I know a fair bit.”
“Good.” The woman abandoned her weeding and gestured toward the other side of the house. “Co
me with me. I want to see if you can help with my vine.”
Since it seemed like a reasonable request — especially since Ivy was hoping it would loosen the woman’s lips — she wordlessly followed.
“I’m Eleanor Sampson,” the woman introduced herself. “I’ve lived here for fifty years.”
Ivy looked around at the cute ranch house with gingerbread trim. “You obviously love the place. It shows.”
“I do love it. Before he passed, my husband put a lot of work into it. He was in construction and he always made time to do one big project for me a year. Inside, it’s a real showplace.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Here we are.” Eleanor moved to stand directly in front of a lattice board that was propped up against the side of the house. A vine ran through it, although it was mostly dead. The small part that was still alive featured purple flowers. “It used to bloom beautifully all summer long, but it’s struggling this year and I’m afraid it’s a goner. I don’t want to have to start over again.”
“Yeah. It looks like it’s having a few issues,” Ivy agreed, dropping to her knees and narrowing her eyes as she got a closer look. “Do you have some pruning shears?”
“Yes.” Eleanor dug in the pocketed clothing protector she wore and came back with a small pair of scissors. They wouldn’t have worked for something with bigger branches but for what she needed to do, Ivy knew they would be fine. “Are you going to hack it to pieces?”
Ivy shot her a rueful look. “I need to cut away all this dead stuff,” she explained. “I’m going to be careful about it, and it’s not going to be fast. When I’m finished, the vine is going to look puny. I’ll apologize in advance. Within two weeks, though, the amount of sun it will be getting and the fact that the dead stuff isn’t eating up nutrients will cause the vine to bounce back really fast.”
“You sound like you know what you’re doing.”
“I’ve got vines like this at my house. They’re beautiful, but sometimes they’re a pain to deal with.”
“Well, you know more than me,” Eleanor said. “I was thinking it was a lost cause so I’m definitely willing to give it a try.”
“I think you’ll be glad you did.” Ivy smiled and then turned to her task. “While I’m doing this, maybe we could talk about Bethany. That way we could both get something out of the deal.”
Eleanor’s expression was hard to read. Finally, she nodded, although she didn’t exactly look happy about it. “Fine. I’m guessing you’re one of the wives.”
Ivy was taken aback. “Wives? I don’t understand.”
“Wives,” Eleanor repeated. “Bethany likes married men. She doesn’t tell me these things, mind you, but you’re hardly the first person to come looking for her because she broke up a marriage.”
Ivy took a moment to digest the news as she carefully started snipping dead pieces of vine. She was careful when she removed them, making sure not to tug on the healthy vine too hard and damage it. “I’m not married. I am engaged, but that’s not why I’m here. Um ... are you aware of what happened to Bethany yesterday?”
“I honestly don’t pay much attention to what goes on with her. It’s nothing but drama and I’m too old for drama. Why? Did she finally tick off the wrong wife and get shot?”
Ivy’s eyebrows migrated north. “Well ... .”
“Wait, are you saying she was shot?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Ivy decided to blurt it out. There was no reason to hold back at this point. “It happened in the framing store yesterday. I was there. I had never met her before — and she most certainly wasn’t sleeping with my fiancé because we live in Shadow Lake and ... well, he’s as loyal as they come — but now I can’t get her out of my head. I was hoping you might be able to give me some insight on her.”
“Well ... that’s a real kicker,” Eleanor said finally. “I heard about that shooting on the news. I had no idea it was Bethany. They didn’t release a name.”
“I didn’t get her name until I talked to one of the detectives on the case today. I thought maybe if I asked around I might be able to figure out who would’ve had a motive to kill her.”
“Honey, that list is long and sundry.” Eleanor gave Ivy’s wrist an absent pat. “That must have been horrible for you. I bet you were terrified.”
“Yeah, although it happened so fast it was hard to be afraid of anything. The thing is, she spoke when she came into the store. She looked disheveled, as if she’d been through some horrible ordeal, and she asked for help. Then he came in right behind her, fired the gun, and took off.”
“He could’ve killed you. I wonder why he didn’t. Not that I want anything to happen to you, of course.”
“Of course.” Ivy managed a smile. “I’m helping with your vine. You love me now.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Eleanor grinned. “Still, you’re not so bad. As for Bethany, I honestly don’t know what to tell you. She was a troubled girl, wild. She liked running around with men and she preferred the married variety because that meant she would have something to hold over them should things take a turn for the worst.
“My understanding is that she would film her trysts with these guys, and keep all the texts and sexy messages, and then use them as blackmail fodder if he tried to break up with her,” she continued. “She liked having control over people’s lives and had no qualms about hurting people … or decimating relationships. In fact, I think she took joy in it.”
“She doesn’t sound like a very good person,” Ivy noted.
“No, she was a horrible person. I thought maybe she would grow out of it someday, actually find someone she cared about and settle down. Her momma was a loose woman, too. I’m not even sure she knew who Bethany’s father was. She set a poor example for the girl.
“I’m not making excuses for her. She had some terrible vices — and men weren’t her only addiction — but she honestly didn’t know any better because her mother never taught her to be a good person. Instead, she taught her to be an abuser ... and Bethany was one heck of a student.”
The information made Ivy inexplicably sad. “That’s terrible. I guess it’s possible that she blew up a marriage and the husband was so upset about what happened that he went after her.”
“You’re sure it was a man who was doing the shooting?”
Ivy nodded. “Yeah. I have no doubt about that.”
“Then that’s the scenario that makes the most sense to me,” Eleanor agreed. “Still, she also liked her drugs. Maybe she didn’t pay or something and that’s what caused her to be a target.”
“Maybe.” Ivy let loose a long sigh. “I don’t know what to think now. I guess I hoped she was some innocent woman and whatever happened to her was unjust ... not that I think it was okay that she was shot regardless.”
Eleanor snickered. “I get what you’re saying. You’re a crusader. You want to right the wrongs of the world. Unfortunately for you, Bethany created a lot of the wrongs in this particular world.”
“Yeah. I don’t suppose you know who she was seeing most recently, do you?”
“No. I made a point of staying out of her business. The less I knew, the happier I was.”
“Yeah. That makes sense.”
They lapsed into amiable silence for a bit.
“Do you think that she’ll survive?” Eleanor asked finally.
“The detective says no, but I’m not giving up hope. I believe there’s still a chance.”
“I hope so. I would hate for her to lose her life before she has a chance to live a good one.”
“Yeah. That would be a real tragedy.”
9
Nine
Ivy was conflicted enough after finishing her gardening with Eleanor that she wanted to talk over what she’d learned with someone. Unfortunately, the one she wanted to talk things over with was Jack ... and she knew he was likely to be less than receptive to her investigative efforts.
Still ... she wanted to try.
/> Because Bellaire had better lunch shopping options, she stopped at a grocery store long enough to get the fixings for a picnic. Jack was a potato salad fiend so she got three of his favorite options, added in sandwiches and chips, and even grabbed a few slices of red velvet cake because she knew that was likely to soften him up.
When she returned to the parking lot, she was feeling better ... until her gaze drifted to the vehicle directly next to hers. Her heart clogged in her throat when she caught sight of the man sitting in the driver’s seat. It was an unmarked vehicle so she initially didn’t think much of it ... until she realized the driver was staring directly at her.
Archibald.
Had he followed her? Was it a coincidence? Had he been watching her the entire time she pumped Eleanor for information? How had she not noticed that he was there when she parked? How did she miss the fact that he’d likely followed her from several blocks over?
Ivy’s heart hammered as she tried to remain calm. She kept her gaze pointed directly in front of her and hoped her hands didn’t visibly shake as she deposited the picnic offerings in the backseat. She struggled to look relaxed as she slid into the driver’s seat and fumbled in her purse for her keys.
She didn’t want to make eye contact and yet she couldn’t stop herself. It was as if something inside of her — some unbidden force— was forcing her to meet his gaze.
Archibald looked amused as he sat there, a Starbucks cup gripped in his hand. Ivy was convinced he was internally laughing at the fact that her face was likely sheet white. He waved at her, a goofy grin lighting his features, and continued to stare.
Ivy slid the key into the ignition and started the engine. When it fired to life, she could barely contain her relief. There had been a moment when she was convinced it wouldn’t start. A wild notion had popped up in the back of her head that he had somehow sabotaged her car. It turned out not to be true but that didn’t stop her from musing on the fact that he frightened her.