“I don’t know.” Felicity was lost in thought. “Maybe her soul remained behind and simply couldn’t find a way to create a shape because she was still in shock.”
“Is that possible?”
“Certainly.” Felicity nodded. “Do you want to contact her?”
“If we can. I mean ... who better to ask about her sudden death than the actual victim?”
“Then we’re going to need to do a seance. We’ll have to do it here in town, too, so we can be close to her spirit.”
Ivy balked. “Oh, I don’t want to do a seance. You know I hate those things.”
“A seance?” Jordan swooped in, taking Ivy by surprise. She had no idea he’d been listening. “I want to do a seance.”
“Who is doing a seance?” Blaine asked, joining the group. “You?” He looked to Felicity for confirmation. When she nodded, he hopped up and down. “That’s a great idea. We should totally do a seance. You know how to do one, right?”
“Of course she does,” Luna answered. “I do, too. We’re all great at doing seances.”
Ivy opened her mouth to argue, but she was drowned out by the excited people around her.
“I’ll tell Roy what we have planned,” Jordan volunteered. “I guarantee he’s going to want this for the show. This is going to be so much better than what it was originally planned to be. I can’t wait.”
“Me either,” Luna gushed, making shooing motions with her hands to get him to move faster. “Clear it with the producer. We’ll pick the spot that will be best for the seance. This is going to be so awesome.”
“Right?” Jordan gave her a high-five. “I’m starting to love this town.”
Ivy folded her arms over her chest and glowered. “This is not a good idea,” she hissed to her aunt. “Jack is going to be ticked.”
“Jack will live,” Luna shot back. “This is the best idea either of you have ever had. I can’t wait to be part of this.”
Felicity lobbed Ivy an apologetic look and patted her sister’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re excited, Luna.”
“I’m glad you’re glad.”
And just like that, Ivy realized she was going to be expected to participate in a seance on camera and there was no getting out of it. She didn’t like the idea one bit.
Eight
The home Éclair’s mother resided in could’ve fit inside Sheridan’s parlor. It was a small, nondescript ranch. The trim was crumbling, as was the front porch. And the flower beds were devoid of anything but weeds.
Jack was immediately depressed when he saw it.
“This is quite the difference in lifestyles,” he noted as Brian parked on the street.
“Yeah.” Brian glanced at the house and thought about the millionaire’s earlier behavior. “The son said that Sheridan learned his lesson after being taken for a big chunk of money following the first divorce. I’m sure the women who married him after that thought they would somehow be the ones to change him because they were special. Somehow, they figured, they would hold on to the life for more than a brief period of time.”
“I’m guessing Sheridan never had any intention of those marriages lasting. He was probably in it for the short haul. Although ... I don’t understand why marriage had to be part of the deal. To me, I can’t wait to marry Ivy because I know we belong together. However antiquated, I like the idea of pledging myself to her forever in front of our family and friends.”
“I don’t think that’s antiquated.” Brian killed the engine. “I think it’s human nature to want to exclaim to the world that you love someone, that you’re joining with them for eternity. Sure, sometimes those feelings fade and things change — and before you get worked up, I wasn’t talking about you and Ivy because you’re built for life — but the initial love burst is strong.”
“If you recognize that, how come you’re always giving me grief about being schmaltzy with Ivy?”
Brian shrugged, his lips twitching. “Mostly because you’re fun to wind up.”
“Ah, well ... .”
“What I was getting to with my point before you distracted me is that I very much doubt that Sheridan ever loved any of these women,” Brian supplied. “I’m guessing that he married them because they were young and beautiful and looked good on his arm. It was a status symbol for him.
“‘Look what I can do,’” he continued, his eyes darkening. “It doesn’t matter that these women are marrying him for money. In fact, it’s probably better that they are. It’s another way for him to — at least in his mind — tower over those he thinks he’s better than.”
“He throws the women away like garbage later,” Jack argued. “I can see one or two of these women being taken in, but the final two? Word had to spread by then.”
“I’m sure it did, but you saw that house. The money is a lure and each woman was determined to be the one to show him the error of his ways, make him fall in love with her. The thing is, I’m not sure he’s capable of love. Even when he was with his son, who is reportedly his favorite, it wasn’t love that I saw. It was duty.”
“I guess.” Jack pursed his lips as he stared at the house. “It’s possible that Éclair was always acting out because she knew she would never get her father’s attention. She craved attention, so she got it from everyone else. It didn’t matter that the attention was empty, or fleeting.
“I remember when she had that Prickwillow guy approach us in the park,” he continued. “She stayed on the sidewalk because apparently she doesn’t like to walk on grass and she giggled with her friends. It was a middle-school reaction. That was the first thing I thought.”
“It was also a power play,” Brian noted. “She probably saw you with Ivy, watched the way you interacted, and decided she wanted it for herself. The thing is, what you have with Ivy can’t be replicated. She simply didn’t realize that.”
“Do you really think she thought I would leave Ivy to be on some dumb show?”
“In her mind, there would be no reason for you not to. She never knew love either.”
“Her mother probably loved her,” Jack countered. “That’s why we’re here, right?”
Brian was dubious as he glanced around the rundown property. “I think there are different kinds of love. I’m not sure Éclair ever knew any sort of it.” He sighed heavily, resigned. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
SHERRY SHERIDAN (SHE NEVER CHANGED her last name after the divorce) was a petite woman, immaculately dressed despite the state of the house, and she looked surprised to find two police officers on the other side of the door when she opened it.
“Oh, well ... I thought you would be members of the production team,” she noted, her eyes darting around the front of the yard, as if looking for someone else.
“The Hearts on Fire production team?” Brian queried.
She nodded. “My daughter is doing a television show. I’m going to be part of it. I thought they were coming today. That’s the last message I got.”
Jack and Brian exchanged quick looks. This was going to be messier than they initially realized.
“Ma’am, my name is Brian Nixon. I’m with the Shadow Lake Police Department. We have some bad news about your daughter.”
Sherry blinked several times in rapid succession, reminding Jack of a surprised owl as she glanced between them. “Has she been arrested?” she asked finally. “If so, I don’t have the money to bail her out. I ... don’t have anything.” Sadness grazed her dull eyes as she looked around the house. “I haven’t had anything in a very long time.”
“She hasn’t been arrested,” Brian replied, choosing his words carefully. “In fact ... we would like to come in and talk to you about a few things. Is that okay?”
Sherry snapped her eyes up, as if suddenly remembering she wasn’t alone. “No, that’s not okay. I spent all morning cleaning this place for the camera crews. I can’t have you traipsing inside and messing it up. That’s simply not acceptable.”
“Ma’am ... .”
/> Jack put a hand on his partner’s arm to quiet him. They weren’t going to get anywhere if they continued along the path Brian had selected. “Ma’am, with our deepest sympathies, we’re here to inform you of your daughter’s passing. She died during the night in Shadow Lake.”
Sherry didn’t immediately respond. Other than a slight widening of the eyes, she remained immobile.
Jack was officially concerned. “Ma’am, I just told you about your daughter’s death. It would help if you would acknowledge that you heard what I said.”
“I heard you,” Sherry snapped, her eyes flashing. “I’m not stupid. I just ... that can’t be right.”
“I’m sorry, but it is,” Brian responded. “She’s with the county medical examiner right now. It’s important that you know ... she was murdered. We don’t know why yet, but she was definitely targeted and killed.”
“But that makes no sense.” Sherry was vehement as she shook her head. “Everyone loved Éclair.”
“Not everyone,” Jack countered. “Someone very clearly didn’t love her. We need to talk to you about that. We need to ask you about her friends, how she spent her time ... we basically need information.”
Sherry licked her lips as she glanced between faces before finally nodding. “Come in.” She pushed open the door so the two police detectives could enter, and then led them down a narrow hallway, to a small kitchen that was badly in need of some updates. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“That won’t be necessary, ma’am,” Brian replied softly. “We don’t want to take up too much of your time.”
“Yes, well ... does Archibald know? Have you told him?”
“He was our first stop because we weren’t sure how to find you,” Jack admitted. “He was the one listed on Éclair’s emergency contact sheet, the one she filed with the production company.”
“That makes sense,” Sherry said, more to herself than to the two men. “She always wanted to be a daddy’s girl even though he didn’t care about her.”
“We didn’t manage to get much information from Mr. Sheridan,” Brian noted. “His son Archie was more open and he pointed us in your direction.”
“Archie.” Sherry offered up a derisive laugh. “Yes, everyone says how helpful he is. Since he’s going to inherit, he can afford to be helpful.”
Jack sensed a lifetime’s worth of bitterness about to erupt. “Archie explained some of the dynamics stemming from his father’s relationships to us. It sounds as if Mr. Sheridan was difficult to live with.”
“He was difficult to separate from, too,” Sherry said. “I mean ... I knew when I married him that he was going to be a pain. When he gave me the prenuptial agreement, I thought he was joking. There was no way he could be serious.”
“And yet you signed it,” Brian noted.
“I did.” She acknowledged his statement, morose. “I thought it was a test. From his perspective, every woman wanted him because of his money. I assumed the prenuptial agreement was a test so he could ascertain if I really loved him for him ... and not his money. I thought he would tear it up after we were married.”
“I take it that didn’t happen.”
“No, and we were barely into the marriage when I found out I was pregnant, so I had other things to worry about after that.”
“Did you get pregnant on purpose?” Jack asked.
“What sort of question is that?” She furrowed her brow and glared. “Do I look like the sort of person who would want to trap a man?”
That was a dangerous question and Jack knew better than to answer it. “I don’t know, ma’am. I was merely curious.”
“I wanted a child. I thought he did, too.”
“Did he change his mind?” Brian asked.
“He did ... as soon as he realized it was a girl. He decided he wanted nothing to do with her and he surprised me with divorce papers three weeks after I gave birth.”
Jack worked his jaw, upset on the woman’s behalf. He couldn’t imagine being in that position. “Did you ask him about a payout when he surprised you with the news?”
“No.”
“No?”
“He kicked me out of the house right away,” Sherry explained. “I took Éclair to the doctor for a check-up. When I came back, all my stuff had been moved out of the house and was waiting for me in a truck. I had nowhere to go and no money to rent a place. He gave me the absolute minimum he could for child support and sent me on my way.”
“What did you do?” Brian asked.
“I went to my mother’s house to regroup. I was still in denial, thought he would come to his senses. He never spoke to me again.”
“And Éclair? How often did he see her?”
“Only when he needed to trot her out for photo sessions,” Sherry replied bitterly. “He made sure to take his visitation because otherwise the custody agreement could’ve been modified and he would’ve been forced to pay more. He never spent time with her, though. He had nannies for that.
“As she got older, to shut her up, he gave her money,” she continued. “It was enough money to cause her to favor him because she was desperate for status. I think she was also desperate for his love, but she got a lot of her personality quirks from him. She was cold when she wanted to be ... although she helped me when she could.”
“That doesn’t sound cold to me,” Brian offered. “That sounds like a loving daughter.”
“Then you clearly didn’t know her. She cared about appearances, and if I didn’t look good, she didn’t look good.” Sherry rolled her neck and scowled. Jack could practically see the gears in her mind working. “The good news is that this place is paid off. I can’t lose it now that the television show is off the table.”
“Yes, well, those issues are yours to deal with,” Brian said. “You should pick a funeral home and have them get in touch with the medical examiner. I’m not sure when they’ll release the body to you.”
“Uh-uh.” She vehemently shook her head. “Not to me. Her father is paying for the funeral. He’s got the money and it will be another photo op for him, the grieving father. I’m not paying for anything.”
Jack felt sick to his stomach. “Well, that’s up to you. We just wanted to inform you of her death. We also have some questions about Éclair’s friends and the people she hung out with.”
“I didn’t pay any attention to that.”
“We still have to ask,” Brian pressed. “It’s important.”
“Fine. Ask your questions. Be quick, though. I think I’m going to need a nap.”
“THAT SOUNDS AWFUL!”
Two hours later, Ivy sat in the diner with Jack and Brian and listened to the horrible tale of how they spent their afternoon.
“It wasn’t a highlight,” Jack said grimly, his hand moving to the back of Ivy’s neck so he could feel her skin. He liked how soft it was, how she smelled. Even though, on a basic level, he understood that Sheridan married for status and not love, he couldn’t imagine being that callous to a woman.
“I’m just warning you now, if I ever come home and my stuff is already packed and in a truck, I’m going to use that truck to run you over,” Ivy announced.
Jack chuckled, genuinely amused. “I don’t think you have to worry about that. The only way you’re getting rid of me is in a casket.”
“Oh, I’m never getting rid of you.” Ivy was firm. “In fact, when we die, I think we should share a casket.”
“Isn’t that going to make it difficult for the person who dies second?” Brian queried. “I mean ... if you go first, is Jack supposed to get in there with you even though he’s still got years in front of him?”
Jack frowned at the question. “I don’t like talking about this.”
Ivy ignored his discomfort. “If I die first, I would want Jack to move on and have the best possible life he can.”
“I definitely don’t like talking about this.” Jack made a disgusted face. “In fact, I demand to be the one who goes first. I won’t stay behind wi
thout you.”
Ivy patted his arm, her lips twitching. “Okay. You can go first.”
Jack was suddenly suspicious. “Is that because you’re going to want to throw a party when I’m gone or something?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then why?”
“Because you just said you wanted to go first.”
“I ... well ... .” Jack looked to his partner for help. “I think we need to change the subject.”
Brian’s laughter was low and throaty. “You guys crack me up. Why don’t you just make a pact to die at the same time? Ivy has all that woo-woo going for her. She might actually be able to make it happen.”
“Now there’s an idea.” Jack smiled indulgently as he kissed her cheek. “Let’s go at the same time.”
“I’m sold on that idea,” Ivy agreed, her eyes drifting toward the clock on the wall. She’d yet to tell them about her day and she had a feeling the discussion wasn’t going to end well. She was running out of time to explain why they weren’t going home to relax and enjoy a joint bath right after dinner. “Did I tell you Mom and Aunt Felicity stopped by for a visit?”
“No.” Jack’s attention was on his dinner. “Why would they show up? Are they fans of reality dating shows or something?”
“Actually, my mother happens to love reality dating shows,” Ivy admitted sheepishly. “Max gets some of that weird stuff he does from her.”
“I never really thought about it, but you’re right,” Brian said. “Max is more like your mother than your father in some respects. You’re both a good mix, though.”
“Yes, well ... .”
“Why do you keep looking at the clock?” Jack asked, suddenly suspicious as he straightened. “That’s like the fifth time you’ve checked the time. Are you supposed to be somewhere after dinner? I thought we were spending quality time together.”
“We are spending quality time together,” Ivy replied hurriedly. “I swear it. I just have one thing to do first.”
“Is ‘quality time’ a euphemism for something that’s going to make me want to punch you?” Brian asked his partner.
Wicked Delight Page 8
