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“She told me she misplaced it in her rush to escape the room. Phillip Hendrickson had struck her and she used it to wipe up the blood.”
“How convenient for her,” Roy sighed, and then asked, “How does she explain it being found across the victim’s face?”
“She couldn’t.” A frown tugged at Sam’s brows. “The real killer could have used it to help frame her.”
“Why would they do that? Why her? There are a half a dozen other servants in that house.”
Sam had no answer. He hadn’t been able to figure that one out yet either. “It could have been a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“And what about Ms. Taylor’s testimony? Why would she lie? Is it not a fact that Ivy McGregor was close to both her and her mother?”
Sam felt a horrible feeling of unease creep in. Immediately he pushed it aside. “You admit yourself she might not have even witnessed the actual murder. If Ivy was the last person seen leaving that room, there could have been a time lapse when the actual killer arrived.”
“And what of the dress? In Ms. Taylor’s affidavit, she states that she saw blood covering the front of Ivy McGregor’s dress when she exited the room. The exact same dress the authorities uncovered a few hours later buried in the bottom of the laundry bin.”
This made Sam pause. “That can’t be true. She must be lying.”
“Sam. Think about it.” Roy’s tone of voice turned to pity. “What reason would she have? Ms. Taylor is not the one on the run. She isn’t the one hiding across the border using an alias.”
When Sam’s head jerked up, signs of doubt creeping in, Roy narrowed in. “She isn’t the one trying to hide something.”
Sam needed time to think. This couldn’t be right. There had to be a mistake. He believed Ivy.
Just as he had Daphne.
“Where is she Sam?”
He didn’t want to accept the possibility he had made the same mistake twice. He knew better than that. With Ivy he was sure she hadn’t lied. That she was innocent.
And yet she admitted to mysteriously misplacing the handkerchief. Admitted that Becky Taylor had seen her exit Phillip Hendrickson’s room. Was it possible she had believed Stella’s daughter incapable of squealing on her. After all, as Roy pointed out, she was close to Stella and more than likely her daughter. Perhaps she had thought the girl would not have revealed Ivy’s involvement. She had spoken of Mr. Hendrickson’s habit of helping himself to the female staff. That could have included Stella’s daughter. In Ivy’s mind, perhaps she was doing all the ladies under the Hendrickson staff justice, and they would support her in her retribution.
Roy made a valid point as to her being in Canada using an alias. Had she told Sam the truth? She had claimed Phillip Hendrickson had threatened her if she tried to run. Sam had never heard of any servant being that valuable. If Phillip helped himself as often as she claimed, then wouldn’t she be easily replaced?
He looked up and saw Roy watching him closely, waiting. He had been there when Daphne had manipulated Sam and the subsequent events that followed. Had watched her betrayal nearly destroy him. The only person Sam could ever rely on, believe in. The only one who would not hurt him.
“In the loft above the livery.”
Roy reached out and placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing.”
Then why the hell did he feel so horrible? “Give me fifteen minutes. I want to speak to her first.”
A small hesitation, then, “Ten.”
Giving a nod, Sam turned and headed back toward the livery. He knew Roy’s two deputies followed him as he made his way down the dirt road. He didn’t care. Instead he was full of rage. And remorse.
Reaching the barn, he climbed the ladder to the loft and found Ivy waiting where he had left her. The knowledge that she had not tried to run, eased some of the misery from inside his wretched chest.
She turned toward him looking full of anticipation. Immediately, he hardened his heart and simply said, “You lied to me, Ivy.”
She froze, having taken note of his expression. Then a look of puzzlement crossed her face. “What are ye talking about?”
“You lied to me,” he repeated, a bit harsher. “It seems Becky Taylor didn’t cover for you as you might have hoped.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Oh come on!” he barked. “You can go ahead and wipe that innocent look off your face. It was Becky who came forward. She was the eyewitness.”
The blood literally drained from her face. For a moment, Sam had thought it resulted from a mix of shock and hurt, before he decided it was from the realization that she had just been caught.
