I looked at Giovanni. “I guess we came all this way for nothing.”
Anne removed the rubber gloves she was wearing and swished her fingers back and forth in the air allowing them to dry.
“If you don’t mind, can I ask why you’re interested in the West’s?” she said.
“I was just trying to get some information.” I reopened the car door. “Thanks for your time.”
“Hold on a second. What kind of information?”
“It’s probably best not to discuss it unless it’s with Mr. or Mrs. West.”
“Mr. West has been gone for years now, so you won’t find him.”
I leaned on the car door. “How do you know?”
“Because…I’m Mrs. West’s sister.”
Giovanni and I shared a look like maybe the trip hadn’t been a waste of time after all and then we walked over to where Anne was standing.
“Where is Mrs. West?” I said.
Anne swung her finger back and forth between Giovanni and me.
“I’d rather know who you two are first if you don’t mind.”
“I’m a private investigator looking into the disappearance of your niece, Ivy.”
“You’re wasting your time,” she said. “Ivy’s been gone so long, no one cares anymore. Why bother?”
“I have my reasons. Can you tell me where I might find your sister?”
She winked and said, “Come with me.”
We followed her inside the house and over to the fireplace. She titled her head toward the mantle. “There she is.”
“She’s dead?” I said.
Anne nodded. “Car accident, been two years now.”
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “We were never that close, to be honest. But I guess I had the best relationship with her out of everyone in the family.”
“Would you mind if I asked you a few questions about Ivy’s disappearance?”
She shrugged. “Fine by me—but I don’t know much.”
“Did you know Ivy was pregnant?”
“Her parents wanted her to have an abortion, but she was determined to have that baby. Planned on raising it herself, too.”
“And no one thought it was strange when she didn’t come home with it?”
“Ivy spouted off one thing one day and something else the next. Said she changed her mind at the last minute—didn’t want to talk about it. We assumed she gave it up for adoption.”
“And none of you were with her when she had the baby?”
“When she refused to get an abortion, her parents said they didn’t want anything to do with it. Truth was, they didn’t have the money to take care of Ivy, let alone a newborn. I wanted to be there for her, but I didn’t even find out she’d had it until after the baby was born.”
“Did she ever say who the father was?”
“All Ivy said was she didn’t know. Could have been any number of guys.”
Up to that point, Ivy’s aunt had been a straight shooter, and there was nothing in her body language to indicate she was lying. The more I thought about Ivy, the more I felt for her, which made me uneasy. Why was I sympathizing with a possible cold-blooded killer? Some weird nurturing instinct had taken root inside me, and I had the sudden urge to find her and give back the life that was so hastily taken away.
“Do you know anything about the day Ivy went missing?” I said.
“My sister called me, crying. Said she thought Ivy’d run off because they’d had a horrible fight the night before.”
“What about?”
“Ivy came home rambling about how she felt the stress they put on her about getting rid of the baby hurt the baby in some way. I didn’t see how it mattered since she decided not to keep it.”
Or killed it. At least in Ivy’s mind. It made sense. If only she knew.
I had a hunch Jesse had been the master of secrets, perhaps concealing even more than Rosalind. So I returned to his place again, but this time, I didn’t care how long I had to wait. When he came home, I’d be there.
Taped to Jesse’s front window was a vinyl sign suggesting the house was being monitored by some kind of security company. But on a scale from one to ten, the home fell in the too-old-and-rundown-why-bother range. And I imagined a burglar would view it as a waste of time. There were two possible scenarios: One, I broke in and found out the sign was nothing more than a prop, or two, I broke in and an alarm went off, thereby alerting Jesse and various others of a possible break-in. Either way, I was past the point of giving a damn. I was going inside.
Jesse’s front door was locked when I tried it, but the back door wasn’t. One twist of the knob and I was in. And unless the alarm was silent, nothing happened. The inside of his house was even smaller than it appeared on the outside. And brown. Everything from the bedding to the dusty cobwebs in the windows was a different shade of brown. From the looks of things, he’d knocked out the wall to the only bedroom and turned the place into a studio adorned with beer bottles and football-player bobble heads. It was every man’s dream and every woman’s worst nightmare.
I poked around in a few drawers, but only found proof of Jesse’s minimalist lifestyle. There were no notes, scraps of paper or anything to tell me more about him than I already knew. Even his closet was bare except for the essentials.
Once I was confident my snooping skills provided all there was to see, I plopped down on the sofa and waited. An hour went by, and then two. Somewhere between drifting off to sleep and the third hour, headlights beamed through Jesse’s windows signaling my wake-up call. A car door slammed shut, and footsteps shuffled up the front stairs. A key was inserted into the door and the living room filled with light.
Jesse took one look at me and made a growling sound that sounded more animalistic than human.
“Uh, surprise?” I said.
“Uh, breaking and entering? You ever heard of it?”
The swelling on his bruised face had gone down—a little, but not a lot.
“Been caught a few times,” I said. “You’re looking at a pro.”
“Yeah—well, I don’t know how you got in here, or...”
“Back door,” I said and pointed. “You really should lock both doors when you leave and keep your, uh, security system turned on. That’s some high tech piece of cardboard you got there.”
He wasn’t amused.
“Look,” I said, “you wouldn’t answer my texts or my phone calls. What else was I supposed to do? I have a home somewhere else, and I’d like to get back to it one day.”
He turned his back to me.
“I’m not leaving until you answer my questions,” I said.
“If I wanted to answer them, I would have called back. What does that tell you?”
“I need information, Jesse. Tell me what I want to know and I’ll never bother you again.”
He opened the fridge, grabbed a Dr. Pepper and hovered for a moment like he was trying to make a decision.
“Ask your questions, but it doesn’t mean I’ll answer ‘em,” he said. “It just means I want this over with and you gone.”
It was better than nothing.
“Did you know about Alexa?”
He plopped down on a recliner and snapped the tab back on the can of soda. “You’re gonna have to give me a little more,” he said.
“All right. Did you know about the other woman? Alexa’s real mother.”
He flicked the metal cap on the Dr. Pepper several times with his fingernail and then said, “Yes.”
“How did you know her?”
“I was the one who introduced them.”
“At the party?”
He raised a brow. “How’d you know?”
“Doug, Nate, Rusty—they’re all dead and you’re alive. What do you think that means?”
“Nothin’. It doesn’t mean a damn thing.”
“The four of you passed Ivy West around like she was a bucket of popcorn. And why not—it was fun, right? Until she showed up a couple mont
hs later pregnant, looking for the baby daddy. I’d guess the fun and games were over at that point, right?”
Jesse sprung from his chair and leaned over me like he wanted to bend me over his knee and teach me a lesson. “I wanna know right now who you’ve been talkin’ to, Sloane.”
“No!”
“Yes!”
“Back off me, Jesse.”
“Or what?”
“Come closer and find out.”
He let out a deep belly laugh and wagged a finger at me. “You’re funny, you know? Not many girls out there like you anymore.”
“Last time I checked I was a one-of-a-kind.”
He backed a couple feet away and towered over me, arms folded. “So now what?”
But he wasn’t looking at me when he said it.
I glanced at a shrine of beer bottles lined up in a row on a corner bookcase. “Why do you keep staring at that bottle?” I said.
“I aint starin’ at no bottle.”
“You were,” I said. “The one in the middle—the BUD LIGHT.”
I took a step toward the bottle, but before I could grip it in my hand, Jesse had something pointed at me, and it wasn’t his finger.
“Why’d you have to come back here, Sloane? You’ve stirred up nothin’ but trouble.”
I remained still and calm, contemplating my next move.
“So now what—you’re going to shoot me because I know too much?” I said.
“I’m sorry—I didn’t want it to happen this way. But you wouldn’t let up, and I can’t let you get any closer.”
“To what?”
The gun shook in his hand like he knew what he had to do but some small fraction of his conscience still resisted. His hesitancy was all I needed. I swung around, doing a jujitsu crescent kick, knocking the gun from his hands with the first blow, and sending him spiraling backward with the second.
Jesse scrambled on his hands and knees for the gun, only to find Giovanni’s foot resting over it.
Giovanni looked at me. “Get his cuffs.”
I removed the cuffs from Jesse’s utility belt and tossed them over.
“I thought you’d bust in sooner,” I said.
“You’re an independent woman, and I knew you could handle yourself.” Giovanni looked around. “See if you can find me some rope or tape—either will do.”
Giovanni cuffed Jesse’s wrists together behind his back and roped him into a kitchen chair. He did it with ease, like a seasoned expert who’d done it many times before.
“You can’t do this to me!” Jesse said.
Giovanni smacked Jesse across his cheek with the butt of his gun. “Speak when spoken to or I’ll gag your mouth as well.”
Once Jesse was under control, I reached for the bottle of BUD LIGHT. Jesse grunted and Giovanni gave him a look that kept him quiet. I pulled the bottle off the shelf and it rattled in my hand. I put my eye up to the hole and peered in.
“What is it?” Giovanni said.
I poured out the contents of the bottle and faced them both.
“A gold heart-shaped bracelet.”
“This belonged to Ivy West,” I said, pointing to the bracelet.
Jesse shrugged. “So?”
“She was wearing this the day she disappeared which means you saw her.”
“Maybe I did.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“Maybe I do.”
I glared at him. “You need to tell me.”
“What for—it doesn’t matter now.”
“You were willing to shoot me over it, so I’d say it matters quite a bit.”
Jesse smirked. “I don’t care what the two of you do to me—I’m not sayin’ nothin’.”
Giovanni pointed a Ruger .22 at Jesse’s foot and fired. The gun made a ‘spew’ sound that was barely audible thanks to the silencer attached to the end. Jesse howled and shouted a series of expletives, but Giovanni acted like it was nothing and aimed the gun at Jesse’s other foot.
“Wait!” Jesse screamed. “Wai…hai…hai…hait! Sloane, do something—help me. How can you stand there and let him do this to me?”
I looked at Giovanni, unsure of what to say. I couldn’t believe he actually fired. It may have been the way they solved things in his world, but it wasn’t how I did it in mine. Giovanni sensed my frustration and said, “I have no tolerance for men who abuse women and children, Sloane. You’re well aware of that.”
“But we don’t know he did anything to Ivy yet,” I said.
“I do.”
“How?”
“I’m a good judge of character.”
For the second time in a five-minute period, I was speechless. Giovanni took it as a sign to address Jesse himself.
“You have five seconds to tell her about the girl.”
Is this really happening?
Giovanni lifted the gun and directed it at Jesse’s chest, tilting and re-aiming it for effect with every number he shouted. “Five…four…three…”
“Giovanni, no!” I said.
“Two…”
Jesse squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. “All right!”
All right?
Jesse looked at me. “Before I say anything—you’re way off, Sloane. Ivy couldn’t have come back for all of us, so if you’re still thinking she’s behind this, you’re wrong.”
“No one knows where she is—how can you be so sure?”
“Because…Ivy’s dead. I killed her.”
“You killed Ivy!” I said. “Why?”
“She kept calling, asking about Doug, wanting to see me. You don’t get it—Ivy couldn’t let go.”
“Hold on. Back up and start from the beginning,” I said. “How did you even know her?”
“We met one night at a party in L.A. Ivy told me where she was from, and I couldn’t believe it. I drove to Lancaster and we hung out a couple times. It didn’t take long to realize the girl liked to party. And I mean—hard. It was more than chugging a few beers—the girl was up for anything.”
“So you boys decided, why not take advantage?”
“It just happened. It wasn’t like we planned it. We’re not animals.”
“Who’s we? All four of you?”
Jesse shook his head.
“It was Nate’s idea. He thought it would be fun. Ivy knew, Nate told her.”
“You expect me to believe Ivy was up for group sex?”
He nodded.
“We all were—well…the three of us.”
“Who wasn’t?”
He frowned. “Doug.”
“But Alexa is Doug’s child, right? He must have changed his mind at some point. What am I missing?”
He sighed but didn’t respond. I grabbed his shirt and yanked his body forward. The chair he sat on tipped forward. “Tell me!”
“We, ah…made Doug a rufie-colada.”
“A what?”
“Rohypnol,” Giovanni said.
“You gave Doug the date rape drug!” I said.
“We thought he needed to loosen up, have some fun,” Jesse said. “But then she came back in town a couple months later saying she was pregnant. Doug didn’t even realize what that meant at first. The last thing he remembered was kissing her until we told him the truth about what happened.”
So how’d she know the baby was Doug’s?”
“He was too drugged up to worry about using a condom. None of us thought she’d get pregnant. We were wrong.”
“I guess that leaves one question,” I said. “Where’s Ivy?”
Given the late hour, it was too dark to hike up to the spot he claimed he’d buried Ivy’s body after killing her. Giovanni called his men to watch over Jesse so the two of us could go back to the hotel and get some sleep, if that was possible. The string of lies and deception had led me down a path so destructive, even I couldn’t believe what was happening. And if what Jesse said was true, and he had killed Ivy, who was responsible for murdering Doug, Rusty, and Nate?
Jesse�
��s version of the night Ivy died started with her coming in town to see him after making a promise to Rosalind never to return again. Jesse turned her away. Rejected, she flew into a rage, clawing and scratching at him with her fingernails. He fought back, striking her in the face, which he alleged he’d only done to calm her down. Ivy was relentless and filled with grief over the loss of her baby. She needed someone to lean on, and had convinced herself the only man for her was Jesse.
Of course, Jesse knew she couldn’t stay. Not even if he wanted her to—the risk was too great. There was no way Rosalind would ever allow Ivy to find out the baby was still alive. Jesse felt he needed to protect Doug and the others so he devised a plan. Once Ivy was asleep, he called Doug, Rusty, and Nate and they all came over. Jesse explained their only option was to get rid of her. But how? Jesse’s version was Nate suggested murder and talked the others into it. Doug was reluctant, but he too wanted to protect his baby. Now that Ivy was back, there was no telling what she’d do.
At some point during the conversation, Ivy woke and crept to the doorway where she overheard their plans. She tiptoed to the bedroom window and attempted to escape, but Rusty caught her and wrestled her out to the car where her wrists, ankles, and mouth were duct taped and she was tossed into the trunk of the car. They drove to the base of the Tehachapi Mountains, pulled her out of the trunk and set her on the ground while they argued over who would be the one to end her life. When they couldn’t reach a decision, Jesse said he’d do the honors, but he needed to be liquored up first. He chugged one beer after the other, tossing the cans on the ground next to Ivy once he was finished. The other men watched in horror, but not one of them did anything to stop him. Once Jesse was past the point of a good buzz, he removed the murder weapon from his jacket pocket: A knife.
The boys carried Ivy until they found a spot they felt was secure, a place no one would ever look for a missing body—but they knew they wouldn’t have to worry. No one would know to look there or suspect Ivy’s murder was a result of foul play. And so they gathered around. Nate, Doug, and Rusty held her down while Jesse stabbed her over and over again, until she was dead. A shallow grave was dug and her lifeless body was tossed inside.
I Have a Secret (A Sloane Monroe Novel, Book Three) Page 13
