Poisonous

by Allison Brennan

  “My mom wants a restraining order,” Austin said. “Why is she doing this? Tommy never hurt anyone. He’s the only person who has never said a mean word to anyone in his life.”

  * * *

  It was late, long past sunset, two hours after Max grabbed a quick sandwich in her hotel. But Grace had called Max and asked her to meet, so Max put aside preparing her interview questions for Stephen Cross and drove to the edge of the bay, down a dead-end road lined with industrial shops. A broken-down block bordering an affluent community.

  There were a half-dozen police cars, a fire truck, and an ambulance, but there was no urgency. Lights had been put up in the area, along a running path that cut through a flat open space. Bushes and grasses and some low growing trees lined the marsh.

  She found Grace talking to Chief Reinecke near the headlights of two cop cars. She approached, surprised when no one stopped her.

  “Revere,” Grace said.

  “You were cryptic on the phone.”

  “We found Travis Whitman.”

  Max glanced around the area. The cops. The dogs. The lack of urgency.

  “He’s dead.”

  Grace nodded. “Been dead for a while, probably since yesterday morning when he left to go running. He’s in sweatpants and a Windbreaker. Running shoes. His body isn’t in good condition.”

  “Why wasn’t he found earlier? This is a pretty open area.”

  “Look, we’ve only been out here for an hour. I don’t have much information yet. It was dusk when a runner heard some yelping. Thought it was an injured or lost dog and went to inspect. Found two juvenile foxes fighting over the body. Called it in. We sealed it off. The coroner’s here now. All I can tell you is that it looks like Travis was shot at least twice. His body was dragged off the path and into the vegetation. We can’t do much tonight, but I’ll have a crew here to protect the crime scene, and a full team come in at dawn to canvass the area.”

  Chief Reinecke looked pained. “I’m going to notify his parents.”

  “I can do it, Jim,” said Grace. “It’s my case.”

  “I’ll do it. Whatever happened—” He glanced at Max. “Well, you’re a smart lady, you suspect it’s connected to Ivy.”

  Max did. But how? Travis was killed before her “Crime NET” segment even aired. “Do you have a theory?”

  Grace shook her head. “Here’s the kicker—we can’t find Travis’s phone. It’s not on his body, and so far it’s nowhere near his body. It’s not in his truck, which was parked at the dead end. Joggers use this area often. Hikers. Marine biologists. The marsh is used by schools. Because of the drought, it’s drier than usual. This section of the marsh is always useable, but as you get closer to the bay the tides come in. I don’t know if the killer thought the tide would come in this far or not—but it doesn’t. Still, his body was in a damp area, and there was animal and bird activity.”

  “You don’t think it was robbery.”

  “His wallet was in his jacket pocket.”

  “He knew something,” said Max

  “We can’t speculate,” Reinecke said, “and I would appreciate if you didn’t, either. I didn’t want to call, but Grace said you have an insight into this case and have interviewed people we haven’t spoken to in over a year. She assured me you wouldn’t give away anything.”

  “I’m not that kind of reporter,” Max said. “I don’t have a nightly news deadline I need to meet. I’m here to find out who killed Ivy Lake.” She paused. “And I suspect whoever killed Ivy also killed Travis.”

  “And we’re back to square one,” Grace said.

  “No, we are not,” Max said.

  Grace arched her eyebrow. “We?”

  “Like the chief said, I have insight into this case.” Max paused, considered how to give Grace the information she had. “Bailey Fairstein, Ivy’s former best friend, told me Travis had cornered her at her school on Tuesday. He knew I was in town and accused Bailey of putting a phone in his locker. She didn’t know what he was talking about, and because I was talking to her about Ivy’s psychology, it didn’t really stick with me. I’d planned to follow up with Travis.”

  Grace glanced at the Chief. “We have access to school lockers?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Call the school deputy and tell him to seal the locker. He’ll contact the principal, but there’s no warrant necessary. When you’re done here, you can search it.”

  Max said, “Bailey told me she’d had no contact with Travis until he came to her school, and that he’d seemed … agitated. Upset.”

  “Because of your questions?” Reinecke asked.

  “This was before I spoke to him. Before most people knew I was here. It seems that Travis knew something about Ivy’s death. Whether he was involved in her murder remains unclear, but he knew something that he didn’t share with you or me. And that knowledge got him killed.”

  “He told his mother he was running with his friend Brian,” said Grace. “Brian claimed not to have spoken to him that morning. After I search Travis’s locker, I’ll go over and formally interview him. He lives in the mobile home park not a quarter mile from here. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

  Reinecke said, “I’m going to check in with the coroner, then go see Mr. and Mrs. Whitman. Keep me informed of every step of the investigation.”

  “Yes, sir,” Grace said.

  After he left, Max said, “I had a few calls on the hotline. Nothing specific, but I’m going to interview a family who moved from town, possibly after something happened with Ivy. They live in San Rafael.”

  “Who?”

  She hesitated, then said, “Their name is Cross.”

  Grace shook her head. “Not familiar. If you learn anything that can help—”

  “Of course.” That wasn’t completely true. Max didn’t tell Grace about Tommy’s sleepwalking. But would that help or hinder the investigation? Tommy didn’t shoot Travis Whitman. There was no doubt in Max’s mind that Tommy couldn’t kill a person in cold blood. Besides, she had no proof that Tommy was actually still sleepwalking except for the word of an eighty-three-year-old bitch who didn’t like the kid. And his mother’s overreaction when Max brought it up. None of that would hold up in court. Max wasn’t going to say anything right now without additional proof that it was relevant.

  Max wasn’t going to further ruin Tommy’s life.

  Reinecke came back from down the path looking grim, and walked to his squad car without saying anything else.

  “Thanks for the info about the phone.” Grace hesitated, then said, “You want the exclusive?”

  Max didn’t know whether to be angry or irritated or offended.

  Or none of the above.

  She changed the subject. “Did you get my texts earlier? The photos?”

  Grace bristled. “Yes.”

  “Do you know who that guy is?”

  “The cop? He’s a rookie. Been here for less than a year. I told Reinecke—it’s his call on what to do about it.”

  “I mean the other guy, in the bar.”

  “Yeah, Robert Carr. Not a favorite. He quit the police force under the consolidation because the council voted to hire an outside police chief instead of promoting him—he was the chief of the Greenbrae division. The only one who adamantly opposed the consolidation of CPMA.”

  “Local politics.” So not directly connected to Ivy’s murder investigation.

  “I’m not surprised Lorenzo is chummy with him—and it explains a lot about what that guy prints in the paper. Carr has been making noise about running for police chief—under the consolidation, the joint council appointed the first police chief, Reinecke, but the position is elected. Under the charter, the first election is next year. He basically got three years to prove himself before facing the voters. I suspect Carr is going to challenge him.”

  Grace glanced at Max. “Two murders doesn’t help Reinecke, but solving them will. I’m very motivated to solve them.”

  Chapter Thirty

/>   Max took a deep breath before entering David’s suite. He’d texted her a heads-up that Austin was there.

  Though David had opened the doors to the balcony, the smell of hamburgers and french fries filled the room. It was chilly, but not uncomfortably so. Max kicked off her heels and sank into the corner of the sofa.

  “It’s been a long day,” she said to no one in particular. This time last night she’d been in bed with Nick.

  Austin looked tired and more like a little boy than the aggressive young teenager she’d met only days ago. He looked at David. Max watched the silent exchange, and David gave Austin a brief nod.

  “I didn’t tell the entire truth about the night Ivy died,” Austin said, eyes fixed on David and not Max.

  Silence.

  “Tell her.” David’s voice was low but commanding.

  “Ivy—” Austin began, then stopped. He started over. “I hacked into Ivy’s Instagram account the day she died. Not hard because I’d figured out her password. I’d meant to just delete the account, but instead I changed her profile. I put up a picture of her that she hated for her profile picture, and then wrote for her bio, ‘I’m Ivy Lake—bitch, bully, phony, fake.’”

  Max raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

  “She found out immediately and changed it back, but she was freaking furious. When she was younger, there were these girls she hated, who always called her a phony, and had even spray-painted it on her locker in eighth grade ‘Lake is fake.’ It always bugged her, and I knew it.”

  When Austin didn’t say anything else, Max was going to tell him guilt was normal and what he did really isn’t at issue, but David put up his hand before she opened her mouth.

  “Tell her the rest,” David said.

  “Everything I told the police was true—that Ivy was gone most of the day, she came home really pissed off about something, same old same old, and she demanded I send Tommy home. With him right there, Ivy said, ‘Get that fucking retard out of my house, loser.’ I told Tommy to get his bike and meet me out front—that’s when I hacked her account. When I came back from walking Tommy home, she told me she knew what I’d done. That she’d fixed it, no one saw it, but that I could have ruined her life. I finally stood up to her. I never had before—she’d picked on me my entire life, especially after we moved here. I don’t know why, she just didn’t like me. And so now I stood up to her. Told her she was a stupid bitch, that Tommy was a better person than she would ever be, that no one liked her, they just liked hearing whatever gossip she had. Ivy really thought she was the most popular girl in school because she had more Instagram followers than anyone else. She obsessed over it, as if each person who liked one of her photos liked her, personally. Which was why I wanted to delete her account.”

  He bit his lip. “I should have known better. She went to the kitchen and came back with a knife. She cut her left arm with the knife, then her right arm. They weren’t deep, but she was bleeding. At first I thought she was going to kill herself because of what I said. I just stared. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t even think about calling 911 or running out of the house. Then she pointed the knife at me and I thought she was going to kill me. I backed away and fell over the ottoman in the family room. She laughed. Then she told me that she was going to tell Mom that Tommy tried to rape her, and when she pushed him away he grabbed a knife.”

  Tears ran down Austin’s cheeks. There was no doubt in Max’s mind that everything Austin said was true. But it still seemed unbelievable.

  “I told her I’d tell Mom and Bill what she did, and she just laughed at me and said no one would believe me. That Tommy had always creeped Mom out, especially when he got big. Then she got a phone call, and went up to her room. She was arguing with someone on the phone, and fifteen minutes later she left the house. Just before ten thirty, like I told the police.”

  “Why didn’t you tell anyone the truth?”

  “Because they might think I killed her! Or worse, that Tommy killed her. I never told anyone what she did. Especially Tommy. He wouldn’t understand. He told me once that he loved Ivy because she was family. Even though she was mean to him, she teased him, she was embarrassed by him—he never hated her. I hated her. I hated her!”

  Max rubbed her temples.

  “Don’t go,” Austin said to her. “I made this mess. I should never have written that damn letter. I told Tommy everything was going to be fine, and now it’s even worse. I need to fix it. I don’t know what to do.”

  “I’m not leaving,” Max said. “But the police believe whoever pushed Ivy off the cliff cut her first—that he attacked her with a knife and pushed her off the cliff. But now you are saying that she had those cuts before she went to the preserve. What happened to the knife, Austin?”

  “Ivy took it with her,” he said. “I don’t know why the police never found it.”

  “Wouldn’t the coroner have noticed the cuts were made earlier?” David asked.

  “I don’t know,” Max admitted. “Her body wasn’t found for twelve hours, give or take. The fall caused scrapes and cuts, but the cuts on her arms were made with a knife and it was surmised they were made by her attacker. Is Ruby still here?”

  “Yes. Graham told her to stay through the weekend, in case you needed something else.”

  “I want Ruby to look at the photos again,” Max said. “I don’t know if she’ll be able to tell if the cuts were an hour old, but since Ivy’s body was cremated we can’t get an exhumation order—if that would even help after a year.”

  “I’ll send her a message,” David said.

  Max assessed Austin. He’d pulled himself together, but his face was still splotchy from the tears. The anger that had been simmering beneath the surface since she met him seemed to have dissipated some. In its place was resignation, sorrow, and hope.

  Hope that she would be able to fix everything.

  How had she gotten herself into this position of being the savior to a teenage boy and his mentally challenged brother?

  And Austin had just put himself on the line as a suspect. He’d lied to the police, he’d withheld evidence, and he had a motive. A motive not to protect himself, but to protect Tommy.

  “You need to tell Detective Martin everything you told me,” said Max.

  David cleared his throat.

  “You have something to say?” Max said.

  “He needs to tell his parents. Get a lawyer. Protect his rights.”

  Max didn’t see it working out that way. But she said, against her better judgment, “David’s right. You’re a minor, but you have just as many rights as an adult in the criminal justice system.”

  “I didn’t kill Ivy.”

  “But you lied to the police. And my forensics team believes that Ivy was killed closer to eleven than one thirty. Which means that your alibi isn’t as solid. You didn’t go online with your computer game until after eleven.”

  “I didn’t kill her,” he repeated, his voice cracking.

  “I don’t think you killed her. But you can see why others might be more suspicious? You could have followed her to the preserve.”

  “She was driving her car.”

  “You could have overheard her tell someone that’s where she was going. Taken bike paths up there. Been there even before she was.”

  “I didn’t! Why don’t you believe me?”

  “I do, but you have to see how this might look to others. To the police. The police had to look at everyone’s alibi again, because they assumed based on a tweet Ivy supposedly sent that she died after one in the morning. Now they need to know that her wounds were self-inflicted.”

  “My mom won’t believe me.”

  “I’m sure she knows you didn’t hurt Ivy.”

  “Not about that! She won’t believe Ivy cut herself. She’ll think Tommy did it, that Tommy killed her and I covered it up, or something dumb like that.”

  Max feared Austin was right. Because in Paula’s mind, Ivy was perfect, Tommy imperfect. She said,
“You have my number memorized, right?” Austin nodded. “If anything goes wrong, if your parents don’t get you a lawyer—or if they tell you not to tell the police—call me.”

  “Why do they even need to know? It’s not important.”

  “It is important! Those cuts on Ivy’s arms tell another story, and it changes the way the police will investigate her murder.”

  “You mean it’s my fault they couldn’t find the killer?”

  “No,” she said. “It means that they would have assumed it was an accident if she hadn’t had any cuts on her arms at all. They would have investigated and determined that she fell. There would have been no need to bring in experts who had a theory that isn’t an exact science. Time of death can be difficult to pin down. It means that they take other evidence, coupled with the physical evidence, and make an educated guess. And sometimes they’re wrong. Even if they’re wrong by only an hour, it can make the difference in someone’s alibi, which is why they look at a block of time.”

  Max glanced at David, then looked at Austin. “How well do you know Travis Whitman?”

  He shrugged. “He dated Ivy. He was okay, kind of a jerk.”

  David looked at her quizzically, but didn’t say anything.

  She wanted to tell Austin about Travis’s murder, but Grace hadn’t yet publicly released the information. It wasn’t Max’s information to tell. Chief Reinecke could still be with Travis’s parents. They had to hear it first.

  “I’ll take you home,” David said to Austin.

  “I don’t want to go home.”

  “Where do your parents think you are?”

  “At a friend’s house.”

  “You need to talk to them,” David said.

  “You don’t get it, do you?” Austin shook his head. “They’ll never understand. Never!”

  “I’ll go inside with you.”

  Austin stared at David, stunned at the offer. “You’d do that?”

  David said, “Austin, you’re not alone in this.”