“I’m glad you’re going to talk,” Max said.
“I don’t know what to do—I thought the show went well. I didn’t know Ivy, but I was heartbroken when she died. Any mother would be. I went to Paula, but…” Her voice trailed off. “That was last year. And now, with someone like you taking an interest, I really thought it would mend fences. And for her to be so angry with me, with Tommy, with Austin. I don’t understand how she could possibly think Tommy would ever hurt anyone, especially a girl he considered his sister. No matter what she did, Tommy loved Ivy because she was his family.”
“I’m culpable,” Max said. “The situation with your ex-husband’s wife is partly my fault for continuing this investigation.”
“I don’t know why Paula is so upset,” Jenny said. “You showed Ivy in a much better light than most. Anyway, the really rotten thing is that Austin is good for Tommy. And honestly? Austin is a nicer kid when he’s around my son.”
David said, “She may be more upset that Austin broke the rules than about what he was actually doing.”
Max disagreed, but didn’t say it. “I hoped I could speak to Amanda.”
“Why?”
“Some of the leads we received on the hotline related to other people who were bullied by Ivy. One of them was Madison Cross, a friend of Amanda’s.”
“Maddie—she moved away two years ago, before high school. Her father got a job teaching in San Rafael.” Jenny looked from Max to David, then back to Max. “What does that have to do with Ivy?”
“Were you aware that Madison had been bullied by Ivy? That the family moved away because of her?”
Jenny shook her head, her eyes wide. “Amanda has never particularly liked Ivy, but I didn’t know why. Other than the obvious.”
“Obvious?”
“Amanda has expressed concern that her father spends more time with his stepdaughter than his own daughter. I tried to explain it to Bill, but he doesn’t look at things the same way. That he’s living in the house with his new family doesn’t apparently count in the time he spends with his new family—only the things he does outside of the house. And he keeps a log of the hours he spends doing things with Tommy and Amanda.”
“Without realizing,” David said, “that it’s the home life that Amanda is missing.”
“Exactly.” Jenny was pleased David understood. “Amanda is sixteen now, she’s adapted like most children of divorce do. It was harder when she was younger.”
“May we speak to her about Madison? I’d like to find out specifics on the incident that had the Cross family moving.”
“How will that help find who killed Ivy?”
“I don’t know, but it’s one more piece to the puzzle.” Max didn’t want to tell her about the call or the letter Madison claimed came from Ivy’s killer. “The more we know about how Ivy operated helps us retrace her steps the day she died.” That sounded lame, but Jenny nodded as if she understood.
“She’s in her room studying,” Jenny said. “I’ll get her.”
She left, and David turned to Max. “I’ll talk to Amanda alone.”
“Okay,” Max said.
“No argument?’
“You built a rapport with her the other day. She responded to you. I’ll check on Tommy, see how he’s doing.” Max paused. “In his letter, Tommy wrote that his sister thought Ivy’s best friend killed her. Maybe you can find out if she meant Bailey or someone else.”
Max waited until Jenny came out with Amanda.
The girl looked both curious and a little scared. “You want to know about Maddie? Why?”
Max said, “We’re putting together a timeline of everyone Ivy may have embarrassed or hurt with her social media postings. Madison’s name came up.”
“That was so long ago.”
“It seems that way,” Max said, “but she moved only a few months before Heather Brock committed suicide. It might be connected. And it might not—but until we can piece together Ivy’s life before she died, we won’t be able to solve the case.” Max glanced at her watch. “Jenny, would you mind if David talks to Amanda? I want to see Tommy before we have to leave.”
“Of course,” Jenny said. “He’s in the den watching his favorite movie. He was so confused about the restraining order today, I needed to distract him.”
* * *
Max left with Jenny, and David turned to Amanda. “How are you holding up?”
She shrugged. “Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You were on television last night. Sometimes at school things can get weird.”
Again, the shrug. David didn’t like when Emma shrugged her answers, it seemed elusive to him, like she was holding back. But Amanda had a lot she was holding back. He’d only caught a glimpse of it before.
“Sit down,” he said.
She sat. He hadn’t meant for it to come out as an order, but his voice was naturally commanding.
“Your mom told you we want to talk about Madison—it’s important, Amanda.”
“Why?”
“I’ll tell you something that isn’t public information. But you need to keep this between us.”
She nodded and leaned forward.
“Madison called the ‘Crime NET’ hotline last night. She didn’t say much, except that Ivy was the reason she left Corte Madera.”
Amanda’s eyes widened. “She called? She saw the show?”
David nodded. “She wouldn’t say why she left. But I think you know.”
“That was forever ago.”
David waited. He could see that Amanda was thinking—maybe she didn’t want to share Madison’s secret.
“Is it true that the police took down everything that Ivy wrote on the Internet?” she asked.
“They removed her social media profiles and archived the information. That’s important in case there’s a trial down the road. It’s not easy to find, but everything that’s been posted online is still out there somewhere. And the police have the original archive. Our tech people at NET are working on rebuilding her profile for Maxine’s story.”
“Story? I thought that’s what you did last night.”
“She’s looking at a bigger story, instances where social media was used to facilitate a crime. Meaning, it was one of the reasons behind a crime. Cyberbullying is only one part—people hurting other people online, usually because it’s anonymous.”
“Ivy was never anonymous,” Amanda said. “She seemed proud of what she was doing.”
“I’ve seen that in what I’ve put together. And Madison?”
Amanda frowned. She didn’t want to talk about it. David was about to push when she said, “Maddie moved two years ago, right before we were going to start high school. I’ve barely talked to her since. Her dad doesn’t let her go on social media, so I can’t keep in touch. She has an e-mail, but rarely checks it. Last summer we got together for a weekend, but…” her voice trailed off.
“Things weren’t the same.”
“Yeah.”
“What did Ivy say or do that was so awful that Madison had to leave town?”
It took Amanda a good two minutes of David remaining silent—and her fidgeting—before she said, “Maddie used to cut herself. Ivy found out when she caught her in the bathroom at school. Ivy was in eighth grade, we were in seventh. Ivy told everyone. At first, I didn’t think it was all that bad, because I knew what Maddie was doing, and I didn’t know how to make her stop, and I didn’t want to go to her dad, you know? Unless it got really bad. That would be like betraying your best friend. Maddie worked so hard to stop, and she did for a while, but then when Ivy went to high school and we thought she was done tormenting us, we went to a football game—and someone said something to Maddie. And she was horrified. That’s when she discovered that Ivy was still talking about her online.”
“Ivy was talking about what?”
“That Maddie was seeing a psychiatrist. She didn’t actually say Maddie, but she put in enough information that people who knew her even a
little bit knew the post was about Maddie. Like, how many people have a mother who died in a car crash when they were little whose dad is also a teacher at the high school?” She rolled her eyes in frustration—there was pain and anger there. “People are mean, Mr. Kane. They teased Maddie about it. Her dad was worried about her because she started cutting again, so they moved, he said, to get her out of the ‘toxic environment.’” Amanda frowned.
“And?”
“And that’s it.”
“That’s not it, Amanda. You said that Ivy was tormenting ‘us,’ meaning both you and Maddie.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
She fidgeted. “I guess—I don’t know. I feel like it’s my fault that Maddie moved. Ivy was my stepsister, and she hurt my best friend. I think Maddie blamed me for it. I mean, we talk sometimes, but it’s not the same. I never told Ivy anything about Maddie, I wouldn’t do that. I never talked to Ivy anyway. She wanted nothing to do with me, and that was fine. Her mom is a phony, and I didn’t like going over there anyway.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through all this.”
“Last time I talked to Maddie she sounded happy, so that’s good, right?”
“Yes, it is.”
“I have homework,” Amanda said, fidgeting.
“One more thing. When Tommy wrote to Max, he said you thought Ivy’s best friend killed her.”
Amanda frowned, clearly confused. “I never said that. And I don’t even know Ivy’s friends.”
“Perhaps Tommy thought that because of something you said?”
Amanda shrugged. “The only thing I can think of is that I was surprised to see Bailey Fairstein at the funeral because while they used to be friends, Bailey hated Ivy. Maybe Tommy thought that meant she had a reason to kill her. I don’t know.”
* * *
Tommy looked both happy and nervous when Max walked into the den. It had been turned into a media room, with a large screen TV, a computer on a desk, books, and at least a thousand movies and video games. He paused his movie and stood up politely. “Hey, Ms. Revere.”
“I said you can call me Max.”
He nodded and glanced at his mom.
Jenny went over and rubbed her son on his back and smiled. “Max came by to see how you’re doing, isn’t that nice?”
He nodded. “I’m watching Shrek. Have you seen Shrek?”
“No, but I heard it was good.”
“It’s the best. Or at least it’s in my top ten favorite movies. I keep a list. I moved it to number eight when I got Guardians of the Galaxy for Christmas. That’s number seven now. I had to take off Star Wars. I still like Star Wars a lot, but it’s not in the top ten anymore.”
“You like making lists?”
He nodded. “So I don’t forget anything.”
“I do the same thing.”
He beamed. “I can go back to the beginning if you want to watch Shrek with me.”
“I wish I had the time.” When was the last time Max had seen a movie? Some indie movie in New York with Ben. One of his friends had produced it. It was crap and she’d told Ben it was a waste of two hours and fifteen minutes of her life. That was a year ago. When she was in college, she, Karen, and Ben had gone to the Film Forum nearly every week to watch old movies, anything from spaghetti westerns to Hitchcock to classics like Casablanca.
She hadn’t been to the Forum since Karen died.
“I don’t want to interrupt your movie,” Max told Tommy. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing, and make sure you didn’t have any questions. Like I told you this afternoon, just call me. You have my cell phone number.”
“I memorized it,” he said, then recited the number.
Jenny said, “Tommy has always been very good with numbers. We had to make sure when he was a little boy that he knew his address and phone number. Just in case.” She kissed his cheek and said, “Go back to your movie, sweetheart. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”
“Okay, Mom.” He sat back down and pressed the play button.
Max and Jenny stepped out and went back to the living room. There they found David and Amanda were laughing about something.
“Amanda is a smart kid,” David said.
“Straight As,” Jenny said. “She’s always done well in school. We’re taking a week next spring to tour colleges on the East Coast.”
“Can I go to Tanya’s house?” the teenager asked.
“Dinner will be ready in an hour.”
“I’ll be back by then.”
“Go ahead,” Jenny said.
After Amanda left, Jenny said, “This situation has been hard on both my kids. Amanda has always been a rock, though. It breaks my heart that her father is such a selfish ass. She’s going to go off to college in less than two years and he’s going to realize he’s done nothing to keep the relationship going. He can’t turn back the clock and make up for all the damage he’s done.”
“Kids are resilient,” Max said. “We were talking to your neighbor, Mrs. Baker.”
Immediately, Jenny’s demeanor changed. She went from friendly to suspicious in a blink.
Max said, “She claims that Tommy has a history of sleepwalking. Not just in the house, but that he gets outside.”
“Yes, but he’s stopped. The doctor said once he went through puberty it would likely stop on its own, and it did.”
“According to Mrs. Baker, she saw him just last month walking across her front yard at midnight.”
“She can’t see anything with her old eyes. I set an alarm every night just in case, and Tommy is fine. He hasn’t walked in his sleep in years. The last time he was fifteen and the alarm went off and I found him in the backyard before he even left our property. Got him back to bed and he didn’t remember anything.”
“You’re certain,” Max pushed. Jenny was lying. Max saw it in her stance and her tone. She was overly defensive, but why would she lie?
Because she knows Tommy was out the night Ivy was murdered.
“How dare you. Get out of my house. You’ve already turned a bad situation worse, stirring up everything about Ivy and my husband’s bitch wife.”
“Jenny, I only want to find the truth.”
“The truth? Paula’s truth? That my son killed her daughter? Is that why you befriended Tommy? Has this all been a trick? Because you think we’re all stupid? You used him!”
“You must know that’s not true,” Max said. “Please listen—”
“Out. Get out. Do not come here again. I forbid you from talking to my son. Stay out of our lives!”
* * *
Tommy stood in the doorway, frozen. He heard his mom shout, and muted the movie. Listened. His mom was talking about his sleepwalking. Then she started yelling at Max. He couldn’t hear what Max said, but his mom was really mad. Had he done something wrong again?
He closed the door and sat back on the couch, staring at the silent television. Fiona the princess was singing and about to make a bird blow up. Tommy didn’t like that part and always closed his eyes.
He turned the TV off.
His head hurt.
He sometimes woke up in places he didn’t go to sleep in. It’s why his mom wouldn’t let him sleep in the tree house, even if Austin was there to sleep over the door.
Last month he’d woken up, and his feet had been cold and wet. He thought he peed in his bed like he sometimes did when he was little but only his feet were wet. And the bottom of his pajamas. Like if he’d walked through wet grass.
The door slammed and his mom started banging pots and pans in the kitchen. She was really mad about something, and Tommy worried that it was Max. He ran to the window and looked out. Max was getting into a car with Mr. Kane, Emma’s dad. Mr. Kane was really scary-looking, but Emma was really nice and said that her dad was nice, too. Tommy didn’t want to judge a book by its cover. Like when people thought he was stupid or scary because he didn’t think as fast as everyone else.
His mother got quiet, s
o Tommy went out to talk to her. Sometimes she didn’t tell him everything, and he didn’t really want to know what happened. He just wanted to know that everything was going to be okay. He didn’t want his mother to cry anymore.
He stopped before he entered the kitchen.
His mother was making dinner and talking on her cell phone.
“Ginger, I don’t know what to do!”
Aunt Ginger. His mom’s older sister. She lived in Colorado Springs, Colorado. They had to take a plane to visit her, which was scary and fun. They went every summer for two weeks. He liked Aunt Ginger, but didn’t like all her rules. They didn’t make sense to Tommy. Like, she wouldn’t let him touch the DVD player because it was only for grown-ups. But she let Amanda touch it and Amanda was two whole years younger than him.
“I just need to leave. To start over. What was I thinking, that Bill would actually be a real father? That he would regret his choices? I should have moved seven years ago when he moved that bitch two miles from us.”
Move? His mom wanted to move? He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to go anywhere. He liked his school and his teachers and Austin and …
His mom said to his aunt, “You’re right. It’s best to do it now. Amanda and Tommy will adjust, they’re such good kids.”
Tommy went to his room and climbed under the covers even though he had all his clothes on. He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to leave his friends and family and tree house.
Nothing would ever be normal again.
Chapter Twenty-eight
The best thing about parents who didn’t give a shit what you did was that they never questioned the obvious.
After dinner, Austin had told his mom that he was going to spend the night over at Jason’s house. He picked Jason, first because the asshole would cover for him, and second because his mother admired Jason’s mother, a rich bitch just like her—with even more money and even snootier friends than his mom. She’d been pushing for Austin to hang out with the “right people,” and Jason Dunlap was “the right people.”
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