Ivy checks the other bedroom, then wanders into the kitchen. Still no Wes. Not in the family room, either. After searching the whole house, she finds him in the backyard, sitting on a lounge chair. Looking up the stars. She snuggles up next to him and shares half her blanket. Maybe a little less than half.
“You remember when I bought this house?” he says.
Two years ago, in the spring. It was all part of Wes’s life plan. He has always been like that, the kind of guy who has a list of things to do before he’s thirty, forty, fifty years old. Goals. Like buying a house before his thirtieth birthday, and he managed to do it a couple years early. Or getting married before he turned thirty-five. A few years left for that one.
He’s always been a planner. Ivy, not so much.
“I remember the housewarming party you didn’t invite me to,” she says.
“You came anyway.”
“You knew I would.”
“I would’ve been disappointed if you hadn’t,” he says.
A horrible night, then a fantastic one. All within two hours.
She curls up a little closer, burying her face in his T-shirt. There’s something about his smell. She read once that when you’re attracted to someone, it’s not all about the way they look or act; it’s also their smell. Even if you’re not consciously aware of it.
She likes that idea. That there’s a reason beyond the drama. Maybe it all comes down to his scent.
“We could be screwed, you know,” he says. “If the case really is active again, Karen has already found something.”
Anger starts to creep in. Of course this is why he texted, because of the case. She knew that from the start, knew it even as she stood in the parking lot of the bar and called him. As much as she wanted him to be sorry, hoping didn’t make it true.
But he’s not wrong. There’s a reason why she’s spending a fortune on a lawyer.
Ivy takes a deep breath, shoving the anger deep inside. Not a good time to fly off the handle. “What do you think she has?”
“No idea. Could be a witness.”
“I don’t think anyone saw—”
“That you know of.”
He’s right about that.
Even if someone did see something, they wouldn’t have said a word. At least not about what happened at the club. Fine Line employees had an unspoken rule about keeping your mouth shut, especially when the police were involved. But that was seven years ago. God only knows who would talk now. Someone might be looking for attention. Or a favor.
Wes strokes her hair, and she wishes it didn’t feel so good.
“We have to stick together,” she says.
“Yes. We do.”
“No matter what.”
“There’s another thing we can do,” he says. “To protect both of us.”
“What’s that?”
His chest rises as he inhales deep. He holds it for a second before answering.
“We can get married.”
* * *
—
Wes hadn’t intended to bring that up so soon. It’s been on his mind since she told him the case was being reopened. Somewhere along the way, he had heard spouses don’t have to testify against each other. At work, he researched that random piece of information. Turns out, it’s true.
Spouses can testify against each other, but they cannot be compelled to do it.
Ivy sits up and looks at him. He knows her almost as well as he knows himself, but right now he has no idea what she’s going to say.
“Married?”
“Married.”
“Married,” she says again.
He can’t tell if she likes the idea or hates it. And he doesn’t know if that’s good or bad.
“You’re just saying this because of that rule. The legal thing,” she says. “Not because you really want to marry me.”
“Why not both?”
He means that. It surprises him as much as it seems to surprise her.
Ivy looks fully awake now, all the grogginess gone. She tilts her head to the side, studying him like she’s trying to see into his head. Under the blanket, she’s naked. He wants to slide his hand down, feel her skin against his, but he doesn’t want her to think this is about sex.
Ivy flops back down onto the chair, and onto him, putting her head on his shoulder.
“Wes,” she says.
“Yeah?”
“That was a horrible proposal.”
“First, it wasn’t a proposal,” he says. “But if I did propose, would you rather I take you to the beach and write it in the sand? Fly a banner through the sky? Or put a ring at the bottom of a champagne glass?”
She giggles. They’ve heard about all those proposals from their friends, along with some that are even more ridiculous.
“I’d hate that,” she says. “It would make me say no.”
“Exactly. It’s not us.”
She is quiet for a long time. He imagines the war in her head is like his own. The one that’s already been fought.
His internal war is over. Maybe it was when he researched that spousal law. Maybe it was when she called a few hours ago, sounding like a lost puppy.
Or maybe it was the minute the words came out of his mouth.
52
The lawyer Ivy hired looks like the mild-mannered dad in an old TV show. Stan Mitchell has dark skin, close-cropped hair, and a ridiculously big smile. Supposedly, he is a nice guy, but behind the smile he’s a shark. That’s what they say online, anyway. Hopefully, the internet is right this time.
When she sees his name on her phone, her heart jumps a little. She hasn’t had a lawyer long enough to know if calls from him are a good thing or a bad thing, but she does know it will cost her a chunk of money.
She pauses her Chinese lesson, closes her office door, and takes the call.
“Ivy Banks,” she says.
“Ms. Banks, this is Stan Mitchell. How are you today?”
“I’m doing well, thank you. And, please, call me Ivy.”
“Yes. Thank you. I called because I received a request from Detective Karen Colglazier. She would like to interview you about an incident that occurred at the Fine Line gentlemen’s club. It happened the same night Joey Fisher was killed.”
Bad. A call from the lawyer is definitely bad. “Interview me,” Ivy repeats.
“That’s correct.”
“What do you think?” she asks.
He responds with a whole paragraph of words she doesn’t understand. Someone needs to make an app that translates lawyerspeak.
Stan doesn’t know what really happened, nor does he want to know. The first thing he told her when they met: Don’t tell me anything unless I ask. She has stuck to his rule and therefore doesn’t say much of anything to him. But she does ask questions.
“What do you suggest?” Ivy asks.
“Well, she says this is just an informal conversation and she’s trying to gather more information. You are not officially a person of interest in the case.”
“Do you believe her?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know her well enough to answer that. This could just be a fishing expedition, or she might have something specific to ask you about,” Stan says. “Difficult to say until we know what she has.”
Ivy wants to know what the evidence is. She doesn’t want to be interviewed.