A Twisted Love Story(82)

Or he might have hurt himself. She pictures him hanging from the curtain rod, lying in a bathtub, or with a gun. He doesn’t even own a gun, but that doesn’t stop her from picturing it.

A hand grabs her arm from behind. The cop with the broken nose. His partner grabs her other arm, and she tries to pull away but can’t. There’s no way to get out of the hold. She looks up at Karen.

“Ivy,” she says.

“Where is he?”

“I was just about to ask you the same question.”



* * *



—

Gone.

Wes is gone.

Karen says it three times, and Ivy still can’t process the words. Finally, Karen leads her to the living room. The ankle monitor is on the floor, with a jagged edge where it was cut off.

“We knew immediately the monitor had been tampered with,” Karen says. “But by the time we arrived, he was already gone.”

Ivy shakes her head, still not getting it. He never said a word to her about running. Never gave her a clue.

“As far as we can tell, he didn’t take anything with him,” Karen says. “He didn’t take his car, either.”

Ivy’s brain refuses to accept what is right in front of her. That Wes ran, jumped bail, and vanished. The mental wall eventually breaks down, brick by brick, and a flood of new questions come to mind: How long had he been planning this? Did he know from the start, or was it a last-minute decision? Why didn’t he tell her?

Most importantly: Where did he go?

She doesn’t have any idea.

“You didn’t know.” Karen is staring at her, an intense look that makes Ivy feel like the detective can see right into her head.

“No.”

“We already sent a patrol car to your house,” she says. “It’s sitting out front in case Wes shows up.”

Ivy didn’t even think of that. Wes wouldn’t be stupid enough to go from his place to hers.

“Can you do us a favor?” Karen says.

“What?”

“Would you mind looking around?” she says. “In case anything seems odd or if anything is missing?”

Like she would tell Karen if it was. Still, the task is welcome because it keeps her focused on small things. His clothes, toiletries, and earbuds. Everything is right where it usually is, as if he walked out the door with only the clothes on his back.

Or was forced out.

The more she thinks about that, the bigger the idea grows. Someone must have done this to him. He didn’t really cut off the monitor and go on the run without telling her. That makes more sense to her. And, in a strange way, it hurts a little less.

Until she realizes it isn’t true. A few of his things are missing. His backpack—the one he uses when they go hiking—is no longer on the hook in the closet. The prepaid phone she bought for him isn’t on the nightstand, and neither is the charger.

The bathroom throws her off, because his toothbrush and deodorant are still there. But once she looks closer, she realizes his travel kit is gone. She doesn’t mention any of this to the police.

“Ivy.”

Not Karen. Ivy turns to see a large man with white hair and a bushy beard. He introduces himself as Wes’s lawyer, Bryce Kendrick.

“I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances,” he says.

She pushes back the feeling of being overwhelmed. What she wants to do is scream. Instead, she nods her head.

“If you happen to know anything, please let us know,” he says. “The best thing for Wes is to come home now, before this goes any further.”

Ivy throws her hands up. Everybody expects she knows what the hell Wes is doing, but she doesn’t.

Karen stands right behind Bryce—always hovering, always there. “Our first priority is his safety,” she says. “If you know anything that can help, please tell us.”

Ivy wants to slap her. She wants to hit those lies right out of her mouth, before she has a chance to spit out another. As strong as that urge is, the knowledge that it would be a very, very bad choice is stronger.

“There’s nothing,” Ivy says. “I don’t know anything.”

She starts to walk past them and out of the house. They aren’t going to help. Not the police, not Bryce, not her own lawyer. And certainly not Karen. Wherever Wes is, or whatever he is up to, he had better contact her. She’s all he has.

“Ivy,” Karen says.

She sighs. What now.

“We need to get into your place,” Karen says. “To check inside.”





68




Karen watches Ivy leave, resisting the urge to reach out and give her a hug. The poor thing must feel completely overwhelmed. With fear, mostly. Fear of where Wes has gone. Fear that he’ll never show up again. Fear that he will show up again.

When Karen let her walk around Wes’s house, she was almost breaking protocol. Technically, it’s not a crime scene, because Wes ran. He wasn’t abducted; that’s clear even to a rookie. But typically, the police wouldn’t ask a significant other to walk through the way Karen did.

She had hoped Ivy would finally talk to her, tell her the truth about Wes. But Ivy’s not ready. Even after all he’s done, she is still hooked on him. Probably protecting him, too.