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“She’s my daughter. I love her.”
And didn’t love Ivy. The unsaid words rang loud and clear in Ivy’s head. On a primitive level, she could somehow relate. If it were Sam, she would have wanted to do anything to protect him from the gallows. However, knew no matter how hard or painful it would have been, she could not condone his behavior if it had been out of pure selfishness.
There was the sound of commotion coming from the hallway. Ivy turned and saw Orville and Louise Hendrickson, dressed still in their morning robes and looking livid, enter the kitchen.
“What in the world is going on here?” Orville Hendrickson demanded, and then shot an enraged glare at Ivy. “And what the devil is she doing here?”
“How dare you!” It was Louise Hendrickson that took a threatening step towards Ivy.
Instinctively, Ivy stepped back and swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. Mrs. Hendrickson had always been cold and distant toward her, so her anger was not nearly as unsettling as Orville Hendrickson’s. So unlike his son, he had always been kind to Ivy. Without realizing it, she shriveled away from his obvious hatred only to bump into Sam. His hands came up and closed around her arms, drawing her close to his chest.
With one hand, he held it out to Orville Hendrickson. “Sorry to disturb you, sir, but I’m Sam Michalski, the bounty hunter who tracked down Ivy McGregor.”
His ruthless glare softened slightly, but he did not accept Sam’s hand, his alert gaze taking note of the protective arm Sam held around Ivy. “I see you’ve found her. I will assume those sirens are on her behalf? Perhaps you would be so kind as to deliver her back to the authorities.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Everyone in the kitchen spun around in surprise at the unexpected intruder standing in the back entrance.
“Roy.” Sam’s grip on Ivy tightened. “She didn’t do it.”
Roy stood in the same entry from which Ivy and Sam had entered earlier. Standing behind him were two police officers. His gaze slid from Sam to Ivy and then to Becky where it lingered momentarily, before it returned to Mr. Hendrickson. “I believe the wrong woman has been arrested for the murder of your son.”
Behind her, Ivy felt Sam’s chest exhale as if he had been holding his breath. She herself felt an overwhelming flood of relief.
Orville Hendrickson frowned heavily, confusion clearly evident on his face. “What exactly is going on?”
Roy shot Sam a look as he reached behind to withdraw a set of handcuffs then proceeded toward Becky. “Ms. Taylor has just confessed.”
“That’s impossible,” Mrs. Hendrickson exclaimed, her eyes bulging with disbelief. “Becky was the eyewitness to the murder.”
“Yes she did,” Roy agreed. “Seeing as she was the one who committed the crime. She set up Ms. McGregor after she believed your son was having an affair with her.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.” Louise Hendrickson said, covering her chest as if the very idea caused her heart failure.
Sam went rigid behind Ivy. “Is it, Mrs. Hendrickson? According to Stella, you informed her if Ivy did not comply with your son’s sexual demands, she could find herself out on the street.”
Orville Hendrickson literally took a step back as if Sam had struck him. “I’d be cautious what accusations you throw around, young man.”
“I’m afraid they are not accusations,” Sam told him. “Your son had a nasty habit of fortifying his sexual urges on the female staff. Without their consent.”
The man’s thick brows pulled down hard as confusion and disbelief danced across his face. Then turning slightly, he looked at his wife. “Louise?”
At first she didn’t comment, and then she sucked in a long irritated breath before exhaling it on a long drawn out sigh. “Oh please, he was just a young man with sexual desires like any other young man.”
“Most men don’t force themselves on women,” Sam pointed out.
“You’re making it sound slanderous. He just wanted to experiment a little.”
“Good God, Louise.”
“Don’t look at me like that!” she hollered at her husband then turned her furious gaze upon Becky. “I’m not the one who killed our son.”
Silence filled the room for mere minutes before Orville Hendrickson finally spoke softly to his wife. “Please go to the parlor and wait for me there.”
Her eyes flared before they turned hard. “Do right by our son.” Then she stormed out of the room.
Mr. Hendrickson released a sad sigh before he turned to Ivy, his expression far softer than it had been earlier. “I owe you an apology, Ms. McGregor. I regret if any of this caused you any inconvenience.”
Ivy felt a tiny light flicker inside, but before it could glow, it was doused immediately by Sam. “Inconvenience? You’ve got to be kidding. She nearly hung for your son’s murder.”
