A Twisted Love Story(65)

“Yes,” Bianca says. Like it’s totally normal.

Abigail nods and slips the key into her bag.

“So, I wanted to ask you something,” Bianca says. “Do you remember Joey Fisher?” Her voice almost catches on his name. She can’t remember the last time she said it out loud. “He was killed in a hit-and-run about seven years ago.”

“No. I probably wouldn’t have heard about it, though. I grew up in San Francisco.”

“That makes sense. It wasn’t a national case or anything,” Bianca says. She picks up her tablet and wakes up the screen. “Anyway, there’s something else I need to talk to you about. Starting with your Instagram account.”





53




Karen stands across the street, where she has a decent view. The bar called Crisis is one of those overpriced places she has never stepped foot in, but Ivy looks comfortable there.

She is with a group of women from work, and they all have martini glasses in their hands. Ivy smiles and laughs, giving no indication of how miserable she really is. But Karen knows. It’s honestly difficult for her to watch. Between Wes and her new lawyer, Ivy is under so much pressure.

It’s the only explanation for why she turned down the request for an interview. Ivy wants to talk; she just can’t.

Karen can’t stand out on the street all evening. She moves her car into a place that gives her a view of the front door. For the past couple of days, she has been trying to “run into” Ivy in a public setting. Preferably in a place that doesn’t make Karen look like she’s following or waiting for her. Not as easy as it first sounded. Ivy doesn’t go to the grocery store nearly enough.

She does go to Wes’s house, though. That’s where she went last night after work, and two nights ago they met at a restaurant before going back to her place. No surprise that they both declined to be interviewed. He is keeping her close. Abusers always do.

Karen checks her phone and finds a text from her son, a response to one she sent hours ago.

Everything’s good, just working a lot. Call you this weekend.

He is such a good boy. No, he’s a man. And her biggest fear is for Jack to end up in a relationship like her own. Or like Ivy’s.

She puts the phone down and stares at the entrance of Crisis. It’s never easy to figure out the best way to help someone.

Sometimes, all it takes is a threat to the abuser. Other times, it’s something more elaborate. A sting operation to catch them doing something wrong, like cheating, which tends to make them remorseful instead of angry. That makes it easier for their partner to leave. Or disappear, if necessary.

When Karen gets lucky, the abuser has broken the law and she can put them behind bars.

Like Wes.



* * *



—

One hour and twenty minutes after Ivy enters the bar, Karen watches her leave. Ivy’s friends are with her; they laugh and talk while walking to their cars. No opportunity to get her alone on the street.

Karen shouldn’t talk to Ivy at all. She knows this. Once someone has a lawyer, she can’t talk to them without counsel present.

But sometimes you just run into a person. Unavoidable, really. Fair Valley isn’t tiny, but it isn’t a huge city, either. And it would be rude if Karen didn’t say hello.

Ivy may not know it, but all she needs is an outlet. Someone to reach out to, someone to confide in. She obviously has no one. Girlfriends and coworkers, yes, but they’re clearly not that close. Any decent friend would have helped her get away from Wes years ago.

When Ivy pulls into a shopping center and parks in front of a drugstore, Karen pinches herself.

Finally.

She parks on the other side of the lot and enters the store after Ivy. After spending a couple of hours sitting in her dark car, Karen finds the light in the store almost blinding. It takes a second for her eyes to adjust. She makes her way to the center aisle and walks through it.

The pharmacy section. Ivy is standing in front of the painkillers, looking at the ibuprofen, aspirin, and Tylenol. All that pressure must be giving her one hell of a headache.

“Ivy?”

She turns. The more Karen sees her, the more she realizes Ivy is such a lovely young woman. Delicate features, flawless skin, and the most open, engaging smile. Although right now, she looks a little scared.

“I thought that was you,” Karen says.

Ivy takes a step back. “Oh. Hi.”

“Hello. I guess it was inevitable we’d run into each other out here.” Karen gestures to the aisle. “In the real world.”

“I guess.”

“How are you doing?”

“Fine, thanks.” She grabs a bottle off one of the shelves. “I’ve got to get going. Have a good night.”

“Wait.”

Ivy turns back, the smile on her face now gone. No light in her eyes. Wes has really done a number on this woman.

“I was sorry to hear you turned down my request for an interview,” Karen says.

Ivy taps the bottle with her thumb, over and over. Like she’s clicking a pen. “I can’t talk to you without my lawyer.”

Karen steps forward, closing the gap between them. “Of course. I just wanted to say that the interview would’ve been a chance for you to discover things you might not realize. Not consciously. But they could be important.”