I Have a Secret (A Sloane Monroe Novel, Book Three) (22 page)

“He said remove…your…hands…from…the…lady.  Now,” Lucio said.

The officer, who had the thickest mustache I’d ever seen, opened up his mouth to speak but Trista yelled, “Stop!  Sloane’s here to help find my daughter, and if you want to waste time harassing her, you can leave.”

A second officer entered the room.  “You can’t kick us out of your house ma’am.  This is a formal investigation.  We have a warrant.”

“Show it to me,” Giovanni said.

The officers looked at each other and then at Trista like no one had ever called their bluff before.  Officer Mustache said, “What can we do to help, ma’am?”

I grabbed Trista’s arm and helped her off the ground.  There were too many cooks in the kitchen, so I moved her to the sofa while Giovanni got her a glass of water.  Once Trista was settled she gave the cops the same information she offered me.  I excused myself, leaving Giovanni to look after her best interests, and went into the bedroom where I placed a call to the hospital Alexa worked at.  

“Guardian Children’s Hospital,” a female voice said. 

“Hi,” I said.  “My daughter never showed up for her shift today—Alexa Ward.  Could I talk to her supervisor?”

“Hold, please.”

In a hushed voice, the woman on the other line spoke to herself as if she was searching some kind of list.  Then she returned to the line.

“Her supervisor isn’t here right now.”

“When will she be back?” I said.

“Says here she’s taken a leave of absence.”

“For how long?”

The woman sighed into the phone.  “I’m not her keeper—I don’t know these things.”

She went to click the phone down and I said, “Wait!  Is there anyone else I could talk to?”

Another deep sigh and then, “Hold on.”

I started to say ‘thank you’ but was cut off when the instrumental version of “You Light Up My Life” streamed through the phone.   I considered hanging up, figuring the woman who answered wasn’t trying to light up my life, she was trying to ruin it, until a male voice answered.

“This is Doctor Ashby.”

“I’m trying to get in touch with Alexa Ward’s supervisor,” I said.

“And you are?”

“Alexa’s mother.”

“Funny.”

“What?” I said.

“I’ve met Alexa’s mother.  Her voice is higher pitched than yours.  Should I hang up now?”

I sighed.  “I’m a private investigator, who went to school with Alexa’s father, and I am in town trying to find clues about what happened to him, but now we have an additional problem: Alexa’s missing.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“The
real
Trista Ward is in the next room talking to the police,” I said.  “I can put her on the line.”

“Shayna Robbins isn’t here right now.”

“Who?” I said.

“That’s who you’d want to speak with…she’s Alexa’s supervisor.  I’m only in charge of Alexa and a couple other interns during Shayna’s absence.”

“How long has Shayna been off work?”

“Three weeks, and if you ask me, I hope she stays gone.”

“Why?”

“Ever since the new interns started, she hasn’t been herself.  Especially with Alexa.”

“How was she different?” I said.

“Shayna followed Alexa around and tried to get together with her outside of work, and we don’t condone relationships between supervisors and staff.”

“Can I send you a photo?” I said.

“What for?”

“I’d like you to take a look at it and tell me if you recognize the woman in the photo.  Don’t pay attention to the hair or the clothes—just the face.” 

“I guess.”

“Great, I’m sending it over now.  I’ll write my number on the fax.”

When I returned to the living room, Officer Mustache was conferring with Officer No-Mustache in the corner.  Their whispered banter was interrupted by Rosalind who flew through the door like The Wicked Witch of the West, except she’d forgotten her broom.

“You won’t find my granddaughter by standing around,” she spat.   

Officer Mustache said, “We’re following up on some leads now, Mrs. Ward.”

“Such as?”

Officer Mustache thumbed in Giovanni’s direction.  “He just informed us Alexa’s car was spotted about an hour from here.”

“I don’t care about the car—where’s my granddaughter!”

Both officers stood there unsure of what to say. 

My cell phone vibrated in my pocket and I excused myself from the room.  “Thanks for returning my call so quickly,” I said.

“I got your fax—and you’re right—this is a really old photo, but the face is remarkable.  It’s like Shayna hasn’t aged one bit.”

“You’re sure the woman in the photo is Shayna Robbins?”

“One hundred percent.  But I don’t understand.  The fax you sent said the woman in the photo is named Ivy West and has been missing for two decades.”

“I’m sorry.  I wish I could tell you more, but I have to go.”

I ended the call and found Trista.  “Can I talk to you—alone?”

We entered her bedroom and I locked the door behind me.

“What’s going on—do you know something?” Trista said.

I hated this part.  “Yes.”

Trista grabbed my shoulders and squeezed.  “What is it?  Tell me!”

“I know where Alexa is—well, not where she is, but who took her.  But it won’t make sense to you until I tell you everything.”

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?”