She crossed her arms. “I’m listening.”
“This is going to be difficult for you to take—maybe even harder than what you’re already going through, but I need you to hear me out.”
“What could be worse than a dead husband and a missing daughter? Who hates me enough to take them both away?”
“It’s not about you,” I said.
Trista gave me a puzzled look but didn’t have the chance to respond before a consistent banging vibrated through the walls.
“Open this door!”
It was Rosalind.
I looked at Trista and indicated with my hand for her to remain seated. “Give me a minute.”
I opened the door a crack and peeked out. A disheveled Rosalind was on the other side with her hands on her hips. Her hair was loose and not tightly wound, like it usually was. I’d never seen her so disheveled before.
“Let me in, Sloane,” Rosalind said. “What are you two talking about in there?”
“I need some time with Trista. We’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“You’ll come out now.”
“Fine, then I’ll be talking to the police. About everything.”
Rosalind glared at me through the slit in the door like she was trying to figure out if I was bluffing. But I never bluffed, and somewhere inside her manipulative heart, she knew it was time to let go. I’d reached my breaking point. No more secrets. No more lies. Rosalind gave me a you-better-keep-your-mouth-shut look to which I tilted my head to the side, smiled and shut the door—again.
I sat on an armchair across from Trista. “Remember when we talked about the night Alexa was born, and you said Alexa’s mother hadn’t wanted her?”
She nodded.
“Alexa’s birth mother did want her. She was told the baby had died.”
“What do you mean?”
“The woman who gave birth to Alexa never wanted to give her up—she wanted to keep her.”
“No…that can’t be true. Who would do such a…”
And then it came to her.
“Rosalind!”
I nodded.
“Why?”
“Rosalind felt the baby deserved a better life.”
“But she can’t just…”
“She did.”
I pulled a worn paper out of my pocket, unfolded it and handed it to Trista. She scanned it for a moment and then looked at me. “Why does this say she’s missing?”
“After Ivy had the baby, she left, but soon after she returned, showing up on Jesse’s doorstep and confessing her love for him. He was paranoid she’d find out the truth about the baby among other things, so he called Doug, Nate, and Rusty over.”
“I don’t understand,” Trista said. “Why get all of them involved?”
“The night Ivy got pregnant, she didn’t just sleep with Doug.”
Trista gasped. “You’re saying…it was all of them?”
I nodded.
“Rosalind paid Ivy to leave town and never return again. I’m sure the guys felt confident no one would ever find out about that night, or Alexa. But then Ivy came back, breaking the agreement.”
Trista bent her head to the side. “Wait—what are you saying they did?”
“They killed her—or at least they thought they did.”
I explained the details of that night to a shaking, wide-eyed Trista. When I finished, she said, “I thought I knew Doug, I really did. But now…”
I leaned over and grabbed her hand. “Doug was drugged the night he slept with Ivy. What happened between them wasn’t his fault. But…he did nothing to stop Jesse from ending Ivy’s life, and I imagine that haunted him for years. He hated himself for what he’d done.”
“Do you think Ivy has my daughter?” She shook her head. “I feel like I can’t even call her that anymore. She had a mother who wanted her, and all this time I thought it was me who was doing her a favor.”
“When Alexa started at Guardian Hospital, she was placed under the supervision of a woman named Shayna Robbins.”
Trista shrugged. “Why is that important?”
“Because Shayna Robbins is Ivy West.”
“So that’s how Ivy found out about Alexa—they worked together?”
I nodded.
“I imagine Ivy saw the resemblance right away, but never thought she was her deceased daughter. Alexa must have told Ivy who her parents were at some point, and from there, it wouldn’t have been hard for Ivy to put it all together.”
Trista stood, her eyes filled with rage. She flew out the bedroom door, scanning the living room for Rosalind. The honesty bus had just swept through town and Rosalind was about to get thrown under it. Trista addressed Officer Mustache. “We need to talk—now.”
Rosalind threw herself in front of Trista, blocking her from moving forward. “Let me talk to you first honey, please.”
“Save your honey crap for someone else,” Trista said.
Like Gorbachev’s wall, Rosalind remained steadfast, unrelenting. Giovanni glanced at me, and I shook my head. Trista needed this moment, and I wouldn’t take it away from her. Her pent up rage released itself in the form of her hands which she thrust into Rosalind’s chest, causing Rosalind to go down like a two by four that hadn’t been nailed into place. The wall had crumbled.
Trista bent over a frail, shocked woman and no longer felt any fear or respect. “I want you out of my house.”
While Trista relayed the information I gave her about Rosalind to Officer Mustache and Officer No-Mustache, my phone rang. The caller ID said UNKNOWN.
“Hello?” I said.
“You never quit, do you?”
I motioned to Giovanni to follow me and slipped out the front door.
“Ivy?” I said.
“I wonder…what will you do with Jesse?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“You’ve made it impossible for me to get to him, keeping him under house arrest with your little goon squad. I should have started with him first.” She laughed. “I saw him climb all over you in the car that night. Shocking, isn’t it? How’d it feel to find out he wasn’t the man you thought he was all these years?”
“Everything I’ve found out since arriving here has been disturbing.”
“So you know?”
“All of it,” I said. “And I’m sorry for what you’ve been through.”
“I don’t need your sympathy!” she snapped. “When was the last time you were stabbed and left for dead?”
I backed off. The last thing I wanted was for her to hang up.
“Jesse didn’t believe me when I told him you weren’t where he buried you.”
“Of course he didn’t. They were all too drunk to realize I was still breathing. I stayed still, not even flinching when he tossed me into that hole, breaking my wrist. They didn’t even stay five minutes after they covered me with dirt. Their stupidity saved my life.”
“Why not turn them in?” I said.
“I knew Rosalind would hire them the best lawyer money could buy and I’d end up in some psych ward with a bunch of crazies. It was easier to change my name, disappear, and never return again. And I had the money to do it, so I took off and started a new life.”
“But then you met Alexa.”
“The first time I looked into her eyes, I knew she was mine. I just knew it. When I asked her where she was from and who her parents were, I didn’t want to believe it was true. My baby was alive and all grown up right in front of me.”
“You should know Trista is innocent in all this,” I said. “Rosalind told her you gave the baby up. Trista gave her a great life.”
“And robbed me of mine!”
“She would have given her back to you—no matter how much it would have pained her. Trista never would have kept Alexa from her birth mother.”
“It doesn’t matter now. Alexa’s a grown woman. All the memories I could have had of her childhood, gone. How could she ever think of me as her mother now? When she finds o
ut I killed her father, she’ll hate me.”
“Have you told her who you are—does she know why you took her?”
The line went silent.
“Ivy? Are you there?” I said.
“Mom?”
“Alexa,” I said. “Is that you?”
I turned to Giovanni. “See if you can get Trista out of the house discreetly.”
He nodded and went inside.
“Alexa, this is Sloane. I’m trying to get your mom for you. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, but I’m scared.”
“Can you tell me where you are or where you’re going?”
Silence.
“Okay,” I said, “I know Ivy is standing right next to you. Can you give me a hint?”
“Who’s Ivy?” Alexa said.
“You know her as Shayna.”
“Tell my brothers I’ll be home soon, and we can play Ben 10.”
Trista rushed through the door and seized the phone from my hands. “Alexa, honey. Are you okay? Mommy’s here. Tell me how to find you.”
“Put it on speaker,” I whispered.
In the background Ivy said, “Tell her…tell her what I said!”
“Shayna says she’s my mom,” Alexa whispered. “She said you took me from her when I was a baby. Why is she saying that?”
Trista looked at me, a look of paranoia on her face.
“Tell her not to do anything to make Shayna upset. You’ll explain everything later.”
Once that was relayed, Ivy grabbed the phone. “You’ve had Alexa her entire life. It’s my turn!”
Tears streamed down Trista’s face. “I didn’t know—Sloane told me everything about an hour ago. Please don’t hold your anger against Alexa. She’s scared. I’ll do anything to work this out—whatever you want.”
The phone clicked, and the line went dead.
“I’ll need your phone,” Officer Mustache said to me. Meanwhile Officer No-Mustache was going over what had just transpired with the chief of police who’d arrived a few minutes earlier. Rosalind had been detained in the back of a police car and looked like she couldn’t believe they were serious about arresting her.
“Your phone?” he said—again.
“Not yet,” I said.
“I wasn’t asking.”
“I understand, and you’ll have it, after Ivy calls back.”
“What makes you think she will?”
“Ivy’s past has hardened her,” I said, “but I’d like to believe she won’t take it out on Alexa.”
“Your hunch isn’t enough.”
Giovanni intercepted our conversation long enough for me to walk away, phone in hand.
Behind me, the police chief addressed Officer No-Mustache. “You haven’t heard from Jesse today, have you?”
He shook his head. “Why?”
The chief continued. “He took the day off, but we need him. Can’t get him to answer his phone though.”
Officer No-Mustache said, “You want me to check his house?”
“I need you here,” the chief said. “But do me a favor, call him every once in a while and see if you can get him to answer. I need to make some calls, get the big guns out here to help find our missing girl.”
My phone vibrated, but this time, I couldn’t hide it. All eyes were on me when I answered until the phone was snatched from my hands by Officer Mustache.
“This is Officer Stevens. Is this Ivy West?”
Giovanni gave him a look that indicated he would pay for his mistake, but Ivy was already making him pay, with her silence.
“Ms. West, are you there?” Officer Stevens said.
Thankfully, he had her on speaker. The chief put his finger to his lips like we were school children, unaware of the need to keep quiet.
“Put Sloane on the phone,” Ivy said.
“Can’t do that. She’s not a family member or a part of law enforcement—we’ll be taking over from here. Why don’t you talk to me—tell me what it will take to get Alexa home safe?”
“Put Sloane on or you won’t hear from me again.”
“Wait!”
“What?”
“Tell me what you want,” Officer Stevens said. “What can we do to resolve this situation?”
She laughed. “This situation? I want the last twenty years of my life back. I want my baby. I want the night I was raped to have never happened. And most of all, I want Officer Jesse Tucker to suffer the way I suffered. Can you do that for me—can you make it all go away?”
He went silent, looking at the chief for what to say next.
Ivy laughed. “I didn’t think so.”
She ended the call, and the chief looked over at his officers, clueless about why Jesse had been brought up in the conversation. A few minutes later, Trista tugged on my sleeve and slanted her head toward the guest bathroom. We walked inside. She pressed a finger to my lips and held the screen of her cell phone in front of me. A text message said:
SHOW THIS TO SLOANE IF YOU WANT TO SEE ALEXA AGAIN.
I AM WILLING TO MAKE A TRADE: JESSE FOR ALEXA.
ONE HOUR.
TELL NO ONE.
I’LL BE IN TOUCH.
I needed quiet, a place where I could go and think, free from the noise and chaos around me. But when I walked outside, I couldn’t take my eyes off Rosalind and her pathetic realization that she was being whisked away in the back of a squad car where any passerby could see.
I walked up and tapped the window, but she refused to look at me.
“The truth needs to come out,” I said. “And if it doesn’t, I’ll come in to make sure they know the facts. And I mean all the facts.”
Without moving her head, the window came down. “That piece of white trash won’t last one day after I find her. And as for you, Sloane, I’ll ruin your life just like you tried to ruin mine.”
“Take a look at yourself and realize who really tore apart your family,” I said. “It sure as hell wasn’t me.”
I retreated to the SUV, closed the door, and locked myself in. The thought of handing Jesse over was somewhat appealing considering who he turned out to be. It certainly seemed like a fair trade—one innocent girl for an attempted murderer and rapist. All his talk about how Ivy was ‘up for it’ the night of the party—lies. Of course, I never believed it. Not after the moves he made on me in his car.
But it wasn’t the reason I’d retreated to the solitude a warm vehicle had to offer. I did my best thinking in silence. I closed my eyes, removed all the words from Ivy’s conversations and concentrated on one thing: The background. During her first phone call, I heard the duh-dum of wheels passing over bumpy patches of pavement in the road. Ivy was driving—but where?
What else did I hear? The chugging of a train as it passed through town. Tehachapi was known for its single-track railway; it was one of the busiest in the world. By now Ivy knew people we looking for her. She needed to hide, but where could she go? There wasn’t anyone for her to turn to—but she was headed somewhere.
I concentrated on the second call. Again, the sound of a train, but when she talked I noticed something—her voice wasn’t clear. There was an echo, like she was talking inside of something. A building? No. A car? No. A tunnel?
Yes!
I opened the door and tried to conceal my joy as I approached Giovanni. I hoisted myself onto my tiptoes and whispered into his ear. “I know where she is.”
“You can’t do this!” Jesse squealed.
“I can—and it’s what you deserve,” I said.
“You’re okay handing me over without leaving me a way to defend myself?”
“What about Ivy? Who was around to defend her? No one.”
“Can you at least tell me where we’re going?”
Lucio jerked his elbow to the side, smashing Jesse in the gut. “Enough out of you. No more talkin’, ya hear me?”
“When I was on the phone with Alexa,” I said, “she mentioned playing a game with her brothers, Ben 10. Well, the game does exist, and
there’s actually more than one. Thing is, Trista’s son’s don’t own it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lucio said.
“When Alexa mentioned the name of the game, I had just asked her if she could give me a hint about where she was at or where Ivy was going.”
“I still don’t get it,” Lucio said.
Giovanni looked like he wanted to give his own guy the elbow.
“During the call I heard noises in the background,” I said. “The road, the train, and then an echoing sound. She’s in the number ten tunnel.”
My phone rang.
“Ivy?”
“Do you have Jesse?”
“I do,” I said.
“Before I give you my location, I want proof.”
I held the phone up to Jesse. “Say something.”
He shook his head.
I put my 9mm to the center of his forehead. “Speak!”
“You won’t shoot—you need me,” Jesse said.
I smiled and brought the phone back up to my ear. “Satisfied?”
“Same Jesse…smug as ever.”
“Tell me where to meet,” I said.
“You’re alone, right? Just you and Jesse?”
“I haven’t said a word to the cops if that’s what you’re worried about. Now…where are you?”
Ivy gave me the location, said to be there in one hour.
Lucio shrugged. “Why an hour?”
“She’s waiting,” I said. “It isn’t time yet.”
“For what?”
“The train.”
The railway line that ran from Bakersfield through Tehachapi and out past Mojave was built in 1874 by the Southern Pacific Railroad. Thousands of Chinese workers were brought in to cut through solid and decomposed granite. They used everything from pick axes to blasting powder, and in less than two years, the job was complete. Many tunnels were carved into the mountains, allowing trains to pass through, but not all of them stood the test of time.
Tunnel ten wasn’t far from the Tehachapi Loop. It was named the Loop because of the circular rotation the train took when it passed over and under itself. Even after one hundred years of wear and tear on the rails, more than thirty trains still passed through on any given day.
I Have a Secret (A Sloane Monroe Novel, Book Three) Page 15