A Twisted Love Story(79)

“They can do that?”

“I haven’t seen the analysis. This is just what Jocelyn said.”

“Anything else?” Wes asks.

Bryce nods, flipping to another page in his notebook. “The 4Runner.”

“What about it?”

“Jocelyn claims they have evidence that can prove the car may not have been stolen.”

Wes works that sentence through his mind, turning it over a few times to make sure he understands what Bryce is saying. His first thought is someone from his old apartment building, someone claiming to see their damaged car after it supposedly disappeared. It seems incredibly unlikely that anyone would recall a thing like that from seven years ago.

Or maybe a camera caught Ivy driving the car when she was getting rid of it. Then again, who keeps footage for that long?

Wes covers his face with his hands, physically hiding from all that Bryce has told him. It sounds so much worse than he imagined.

“There’s more,” Bryce says.

Jesus Christ.

“Go ahead,” Wes says. His voice sounds muffled through his hands.

“Jocelyn said there’s a witness who heard you arguing with Ivy about the accident,” Bryce says.

Not possible. He and Ivy haven’t talked about that night in years, much less fought about it.

“You aren’t going to like this idea,” Bryce says, “but given the incident at the club just before it happened, there’s someone else who could’ve been behind the wheel.”

“Ivy.”

Wes knew this was coming. Of course Bryce wants to present an alternative, someone else who could have committed the crime. It’s the most obvious defense strategy—a couple of true-crime documentaries are enough to teach anyone that—but Wes didn’t expect it to come up this fast.

Also, it’s the truth.

“Let’s say, for example,” Wes says, “Ivy goes to the police and says she was the one driving the car. What happens?”

“Two possibilities. First, they don’t believe her, perhaps because they have some evidence to prove, or strongly suggest, that you were the driver.”

“And the second?”

“They do believe her. This case has gotten a lot of publicity, though. And if there’s one thing the police hate, it’s being embarrassed. You both would be charged for leaving the scene of the accident, and for covering it up. Most likely, she would be charged with vehicular homicide instead of you.”

Exactly what he thought. They would both end up in prison, but he would spend less time there.





65




Heath is in the far corner of the café, away from everyone else. Ivy waves and stops at the counter to grab a sandwich and a drink before joining him. It’s the first time she has left the office for lunch in weeks, but it had to be done. No more drinks after work for her. She goes straight back to Wes.

Heath is wearing casual clothes today—a rugby shirt and khaki shorts—and he hasn’t shaved. The stubble doesn’t look as good on him as it does on Wes. As she sits down, she almost asks if he’s growing a beard. She stops after seeing the look on his face.

He’s angry.

“Thanks for finally calling me back,” he says.

Ivy unwraps her lunch and twists the cap off her flavored water. Heath has been blowing up her phone with calls and texts since Wes was arrested. She hasn’t read half of them. “I’ve been a little busy,” she says.

“I imagine trying to save Wes takes up a lot of time.”

“He didn’t do this,” she says.

Heath takes a bite of his sandwich.

“Look,” Ivy says, “I know you hate Wes.”

“I never said I hated him.”

“This isn’t like we had a fight. This is something that could put him in prison for a long time. Maybe forever.” Her voice catches on that last word.

“I get that.” Heath’s tone is softer now. He reaches over, touching her arm. “After ten years, of course you’re worried about him.”

“Yes, I am.”

“My focus is on you. I don’t want to see you get destroyed alongside him.”

Heath wouldn’t be saying that if he knew the real story. He would know Wes is protecting her, not the other way around.

Then again, this is Heath. Even if he did know, he wouldn’t give Wes any credit for it.

“So what’s it going to be today?” she says. “I should break up with him, ignore him, not try to help? He’s toxic, he’s horrible, he’s ruining my life, I should find someone nicer, calmer, not as volatile, so I can be in a healthy, functional relationship?” Ivy pauses to take a sip of water. “Do I have that right?”

She has heard it all. Every insult, every judgment. There was a time they made it a game, when Heath would give her a reason why she should leave Wes—for good—and she would counter with a reason why she shouldn’t. She always won.

That was all in fun, though. This is not.

Heath looks shocked at her outburst. He shouldn’t be. After knowing her for so many years, he should know exactly what she’s like. She can be more volatile than Wes.

“Ivy, I’m just trying to be a friend,” he says.

“Wes basically lost his job. He can’t leave his house because he has an ankle monitor. He’s spending every penny he has on a lawyer. His entire life is falling apart, and he hasn’t been convicted of anything. So, please, if you asked me here to talk about how terrible he is, don’t. Just don’t.”