Poisonous

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Poisonous Page 20

by Allison Brennan


  “He is going through it,” Max said quietly. “When this is over, then you and your ex can have that heart-to-heart.”

  “If she allows it,” Jenny said with an eye-roll worthy of a teenager.

  “I can’t solve your family problems,” Max said, growing irritated with Jenny’s attitude. “but I can find out what happened to Ivy. The rest is up to you.”

  “No, it’s up to Paula, because she’s obviously the one who controls what everyone else thinks and does,” Jenny said. She glanced at Austin. “I’m sorry, Austin. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  His mouth twisted into a half smile. “Truth.”

  “Can we all agree to take it easy for the next two days?” Max asked. She didn’t want the family drama and infighting to get out of hand or go public before the segment. If there was a sense that the family didn’t deserve answers because they were sniping at one another, Max was going to get nothing from this. And even if everything went right, she still might get nothing from it. All she could do was keep looking.

  Talk to Bailey Fairstein. Push Travis Whitman again.

  And dammit, talk to Justin Brock. He still hadn’t returned her call. If she didn’t have to film tomorrow, she would drive down first thing in the morning to hunt him down and get a statement.

  Jenny turned to her son. “Are you really okay with this, Tommy?”

  He nodded. “Max said that even if we know who hurt Ivy that maybe I still can’t go to Dad’s house. But the truth is always better than not knowing, right? And I think if Paula knows the truth, she won’t look at me funny anymore.”

  Max hoped so.

  * * *

  David was silent most of the drive back to the hotel.

  “Good news,” Max said after checking her phone messages. “Pilar Fairstein said I can talk to Bailey tomorrow morning before school. Seven at their house.”

  David grunted a response.

  “Should I call Richard to drive me or are you taking me?”

  “I’ll drive,” he said.

  “You’re angry,” Max said.

  “You don’t want to hear about it.”

  “Of course I do.”

  He grunted again. Well, this was fun.

  She mentally replayed the conversation at Jenny’s house. At first, Max thought David might have been angry that she’d told Tommy and Austin about the bombing that scarred his face, but he’d seemed more embarrassed by the story, typical of his humble attitude about his years in the military. He had never talked to her about it, over answering a few questions. She’d learned everything through an extensive background check. She hadn’t kept that from him, but he still refused to discuss it.

  “You don’t see it,” David said after a few minutes. “For someone as smart as you are, Maxine, you’re entirely dense.”

  “Excuse me,” she snapped, “it’s been a long day. I guess I missed something obvious. Enlighten me.”

  “This is why I don’t say anything about Brittney to Emma.”

  She was lost. “I didn’t say anything to Emma about Brittney.”

  “Dense,” he said. He parked the car and got out.

  Max grabbed her briefcase from the backseat and got out as well. David was in his bodyguard protective mode, looking around, and that was fine with her, she didn’t want to talk to him. She went through everything she had said to Emma, and she couldn’t remember anything that could have been construed as being critical of her mother.

  She unlocked the door to her suite and David followed her inside, putting his arm in front of her as he checked out the space.

  “You can stop,” she said. “You’re not a bodyguard on this assignment.”

  He didn’t respond, but closed the door and stared at her. “Amanda is sixteen. She was nine when her parents went through what was a nasty divorce. Jenny cares about her kids, but she made a number of biting comments about her ex-husband and his wife.”

  Max hadn’t noticed. Or, if she had, she hadn’t thought about it. Well, she had noticed that Jenny was still angry about what happened with her ex-husband. And she had considered how public bickering might damage her ability to do her job and air a productive show. But Max had never been married, and that sort of betrayal would be difficult, especially if you thought everything was just fine.

  But she didn’t say anything, because David obviously had more to say.

  “Tommy didn’t pick up on the comments like Amanda did,” David continued. “She’s quiet, a smart kid, and she’ll probably grow up just fine. There are millions of children of divorced parents who grow up to lead relatively normal lives. But to live with that kind of anger and animosity for half your childhood … no child should have to deal with that. It’s our responsibility, as parents, as adults, to protect them. The world is a dangerous place and there is enough hatred and anger out there that they shouldn’t be subjected to it in their own homes.”

  “You’re talking about Nick.”

  “No, I’m talking about Amanda and her relationship with her mother and her father. And me, and why I’ve made certain choices related to Emma and Brittney—choices that I know you disagree with.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Don’t lie. First, you’re shitty at it. Second, I know you think I’ve made more than one mistake.”

  She bit her lip. “They’re your decisions to make. As you’ve often said.”

  “Your unconscious mind is very loud, Maxine.”

  “Well dammit, David, kids should be protected, but they shouldn’t be lied to.”

  “Refraining from calling your husband an adulterous bastard is not lying to your children. It’s showing respect and restraint in a difficult situation.” David paused. “I haven’t always been so restrained, Max. But with Emma, I wasn’t going to use her as a pawn between Brittney and me.”

  “And you don’t think Emma knows exactly who her mother is?”

  “Emma loves Brittney. I got Brittney pregnant in high school. She was barely nineteen when she had a baby. She didn’t go to college. She made sacrifices to raise Emma—personal sacrifices. I respect that. I don’t like that I can’t see my daughter whenever I want. I don’t like that I’m not in the house, raising her, teaching her, going to her school plays or gymnastics meets.”

  “You’ve made sacrifices, too, not just Brittney.”

  “Yes. And I don’t have to like the law that gives mothers all the rights, but I respect the law and I’ve made this work and I will have a relationship with my daughter in spite of everything. But I will not have Emma hear me utter one word about Brittney. Emma is smart enough to figure out how the world works, and she will. She knows I love her and that’s going to have to be enough for now. It’s all I can control.”

  Max shook her head. “It’s not fair.”

  David stared at her, then laughed humorlessly. “Since when have you ever thought that life was fair?”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I do. It’s you, Max.”

  “Fine.”

  “You really don’t understand, and I don’t know how to explain it to you. Don’t let Austin go on camera tomorrow.”

  “That subject is closed.”

  “You’re making a mistake.”

  “It’s perfectly legal. All he will be doing is what I would have had Paula do, share about his sister and his desire to find out who killed her.”

  “You’ll be damaging his relationship with Paula. Coming between a child and their mother is a recipe for disaster.”

  “She damaged her relationship with him,” Max said. “I do listen. And if you couldn’t hear how angry and hopeless Austin feels over what his mother did to Tommy, then you have selective hearing.”

  “I heard everything, Maxine. Everything. It’s you who has selective hearing.”

  “The subject is closed, David. Austin has something to say, and he deserves the right to say it.”

  * * *

  Maybe because she was wound up after her fight with David, or may
be because her mind was working overtime on the case, she pulled Laura Lorenzo’s contact information out of her staff’s notes and called her. It was ten in the evening, and Max usually didn’t like to call people so late, but Laura was a college student and likely still awake.

  She answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

  “Laura Lorenzo?”

  Pause. “Who’s this?”

  “Maxine Revere. I’m an investigative reporter working on a television segment for ‘Crime NET’ about the murder of Ivy Lake. I’d like to talk to you about—”

  “I have nothing to say to you,” she said.

  “Justin Brock said he was with his girlfriend the night that Ivy died. Was that you?”

  “I can’t believe you’re dragging Justin into this. Haven’t he and his family suffered enough?”

  “I’m just looking for the truth.”

  Laura began to cry. “The truth is that … that girl bullied Heather to death. Literally. And no one cared about that, but you care about an accident? My brother is an investigative reporter too, and he said the police have their heads up their ass. Why don’t you investigate what Ivy did to Heather?”

  “Ivy was murdered, that’s not in dispute. I’m afraid your brother has been spreading disinformation and inaccurate stories.” Max took a deep breath. This wasn’t how she wanted the conversation to go. “Laura, I just want the truth. I know you do, too. Nothing justifies what happened to Heather; nothing justifies what happened to Ivy.”

  But Laura had already hung up.

  * * *

  Max had just stepped out of the shower when her cell phone rang. It was nearly midnight but when she was working, late calls were par for the course.

  It was Nick.

  She almost hit Decline—it had taken him this long to get back to her?—but the hot shower had calmed her down.

  “It’s been a long time,” she answered.

  “I’m sorry, Max. Really.”

  She wrapped her damp body in a terry robe and walked through the bedroom into the living room. With her free hand, she poured herself a glass of red wine and took a sip.

  “You’re not talking,” Nick said.

  “Ah, now you know how it feels.”

  “I’m trying to juggle things around so I can come up there this weekend.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll be done.”

  “You can take one night off.”

  When she didn’t respond, he said, “Or I could come up and wait for you in your hotel room.”

  She almost laughed. “Let me know if you do juggle things around, and then we’ll talk.”

  “I suppose I deserve that.”

  “I did want to see you, Nick.”

  “You don’t anymore?”

  “I do.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  Max’s phone vibrated with another call. She glanced at the caller ID and didn’t recognize the number. She almost ignored it, but she’d given her card out to many people lately and this could be related to her investigation. “Hold a second, I have to take this. If I lose you, I’ll call you back.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  She clicked to the other call. “Maxine Revere.”

  “How dare you threaten my fiancée!” said an angry male voice.

  Justin Brock. “I thought that might propel you to return my calls,” said Max.

  “Stay away from me and stay away from my family.”

  “Meet with me. Tell it to my face.”

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve.”

  If she had a quarter for every time she’d heard that, she’d have already doubled her ample trust fund.

  “I’m doing a story about Ivy Lake with or without your blessing. I will find out who killed her. I have questions only you can answer. Or I can sit outside your parents’ house until they talk to me.”

  “Do you know what my mother has been through? Do you even care?”

  “I do care, Justin. I care about the truth. I’m sorry about Heather, deeply sorry about what happened. And I also believe that Ivy’s online activities led to her death. I’m not leaving until I find answers.”

  “I don’t care who killed that little bitch.”

  “But you care about your sister and your family.”

  “Are you threatening me? You’re no better than Ivy, dragging people through the mud.”

  Her stomach flipped. Why did that bother her? She was used to people hating her, she was used to people accusing her of atrocious things. Didn’t make it true.

  “I can meet you in Palo Alto at a place of your choosing first thing Friday morning.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “I want your side of the story,” she said.

  “I didn’t kill her. That’s all you need to know.”

  “Please, Justin,” Max said, her voice calmer than she felt. “I promise to treat your sister’s memory with respect. I have no intention of mentioning anything that she may or may not have done. Heather was a victim. But in the end so was Ivy. Others might be in danger, and you have a unique insight that I can’t get from anyone else.”

  “I’ll think about it.” He hung up.

  She took a deep breath. Then another. Max didn’t know why that had been so difficult. She switched her call back to Nick. “Still there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you working tomorrow night?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Then I’ll be at your house for a late dinner. I’ll text you when I have a better time.”

  “You don’t need to come down here. I said—”

  “I have an early meeting Friday morning in Palo Alto. Instead of fighting traffic for hours, I’d prefer to be in bed with you. Unless you have other plans.”

  “I’d rather be in bed with you, too. Tomorrow night. And I’ll still come up this weekend.”

  “If you can juggle things.”

  “Max—”

  She held her breath. Was he finally going to tell her what was going on with his wife and son? She sat on the couch, not far from her wineglass.

  “Be careful,” he said after a moment. “You’re good at your job, but you stir things up and I worry about you getting hurt.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She hung up when she realized she was about to make a snide comment about his ex-wife. She leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes.

  Don’t take this relationship so seriously.

  That was becoming harder.

  * * *

  Austin couldn’t sleep.

  He turned on his Xbox and put on his headphones, but even his favorite game Destiny couldn’t distract him.

  He’d made a huge mistake and he didn’t know how to fix it.

  No one could. No one could help him.

  He would just have to see this through. All the way through.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  THURSDAY

  At five in the morning, Travis’s phone vibrated. He groaned. Thinking about everything that could go wrong today, he’d slept like shit last night. His head pounded and he grabbed his phone.

  It was a text message from an unlisted number: Hey, it’s Brian.

  Ever since Rick moved, Travis had no one he considered a good friend, but Brian was cool. They’d been on the football team together since they were freshmen, the only two sophomores on varsity.

  Run before school?

  Over the summer they’d gotten into the habit of running in the mornings a couple times a week because Brian lived nearby, but they hadn’t done it since school started. Brian had a new girlfriend, though he was being low-key about it.

  Sure. On the track?

  Brian replied: How ’bout the marsh?

  Travis stretched and got up. If they ran the entire perimeter, it was just over three miles. He’d be back in time to shower and meet Bailey.

  Usual spot?

  Brian agreed, and Travis pulled on his sweatpants, Windbreaker, grabbed his car keys and cell phone, then ran down the stairs.<
br />
  His mom was making coffee, dressed in her robe and slippers.

  “You’re up early,” she said.

  “I’m going running with Brian.”

  She smiled. “That’s nice.”

  He kissed her on the cheek. “If I don’t see you when I get back, I’ll see you tonight.”

  “You’ll have to get yourself dinner, sweetheart—I have Open House at the school, so your dad is picking me up after and we’re going out.”

  “I’ll see if Brian wants to come over and we’ll get a pizza.”

  He left, hopped into his truck, and drove the mile to Industrial Way. At the end of the dead-end street, you could access the marsh trails. It was still dark, though the sun was creeping up.

  He was glad Brian had reached out to him. Even after the whole thing with Ivy was over, he’d felt that he’d lost more than just his buddy Rick. This summer he and Brian had hung out again, and that was good.

  Brian lived in the mobile home park between the freeway and the marsh, and he didn’t like people coming over. His mom wasn’t around and his dad was a prick. So Travis and he always met at the dead end. The businesses here were mostly auto body repair and construction shops and no one gave them trouble. The area was kind of trashy, but when Travis was younger, he and Rick used to ride dirt bikes on the trails. The best was when it had been raining, and the marsh was really a marsh and not just a dried-out low-lying plot of land. Then in eighth grade, they’d come out with a wildlife biologist who talked about the animals and birds that lived in the marsh. Travis didn’t remember any of that, but he, Rick, and Brian had a blast the following weekend when they came out to the marsh and got drunk for the first time.

  It was already after five thirty and Travis didn’t see Brian. The light was getting better, but it was still friggin’ cold, so Travis stretched and jogged toward Brian’s place, expecting to meet him on the path.

  He rounded a slight curve that dipped down. Salt grass and pickleweed overran the area, especially now with the drought, and it came almost to Travis’s waist. Some bushes were even taller, so he almost missed the movement as another runner came toward him in the twilight. For a second he assumed it was Brian, but then he realized the guy in the dark hoodie was too short. Travis nodded a greeting as they were about to pass, then hesitated. There was something familiar …

 

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