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Wilde added, “Do you . . . do you have any information on Ivy?”
Tanaka shook her head. “We were hoping you did.”
“No.” He let out a sigh, rubbed the knuckles of one hand with the fingers of the other, then he settled into one of a well-worn set of recliners that faced a small flat screen mounted over an electric fireplace. “Oh, Lordy. I hope she’s okay.” He worried his hands as they hung between his knees. “You know, Ivy and I haven’t been close in a long while,” he admitted, getting right to the point. “I think I already told you that on the phone. In fact I told you everything. I thought . . . I mean I was afraid when you showed up that you were going to bring me bad news. Worse news.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth. “It’s no secret that Brindel and I didn’t get along. Never did. Married out of college, were gonna split up, and ooops, she’s pregnant, so we gave it a go for another couple of years, but that woman was way too high maintenance for me. She found Paul Latham and I thought, great! To be honest I was glad she agreed to a divorce. In fact she was the one who wanted out. No muss. No fuss.”
“What about Ivy?” Tanaka asked.
“Well, that was a little tougher,” he admitted, and he seemed to sweat a little.
“During the divorce Brindel insisted she get full custody and I . . . well, Ivy would spend every other weekend with me, but that didn’t last long.” He looked away from Tanaka’s gaze, staring instead at the stained carpet. “I should have tried harder, I suppose, but I got involved with Elana; we got married and she and Ivy didn’t exactly click, y’know. So, it was just easier if Brindel and Paul raised her.” Then, as if hearing his own words, he added, “She was always welcome, of course.”
“But she never came.”
He nodded. “That’s about right. Elana and I started our own family and now we have three girls. We’re outgrowing this place and . . .”
There was no room for Ivy.
He didn’t say it.
He didn’t have to.
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“Christmas,” he answered, which is what he’d said on the phone. “Well, actually it was the week before. We always celebrate with Elana’s family and Ivy had never felt comfortable with them, or with our kids. They were half sisters and all, but . . . well, as I said, Elana and Ivy didn’t mix and she didn’t want our girls around her as Ivy was always . . . rebellious.”
The door opened at that moment and a thin woman with short black hair and a weary expression swept into the room. In jeans and a black puffy coat, she was juggling two grocery bags. Three girls, stair-steps with dark hair and curious eyes, spilled in through the front door behind her. “Who is—? Oh, dear God,” Elana said. “You’re the police? Emery, close the door for God’s sake, it’s freezing outside!” She turned to her husband. “I have two more bags in the car.” She racewalked to the kitchen, set the sacks on a cluttered peninsula, and returned to the living area. “It’s about Ivy, isn’t it? Oh. My. God.” She froze, as if understanding for the first time. “Is she—?”
She let the sentence dangle as if aware that her daughters had suddenly gone quiet and had clustered near the front door, all three staring at the group in the living area.
Paterno said, “We’re still trying to locate her. Her cell phone records were held up, but we’re going over them now and we think she may be in New Mexico. Not sure yet.”
Elana let out her breath and sketched the sign of the cross feverishly across her chest. “Thank God.”
“Do you have family or friends in the Albuquerque area? Anyone she might want to meet, or who might put her up, even hide her out?” Paterno asked.
Both Victor and his wife shook their heads.
Useless, Tanaka thought.
Then, as if the subject were closed, Elana turned to her husband. “I said there were other groceries in the car. Could you get them?” Her mouth turned down at the corners. “Please?” An afterthought.
“Okay,” he said to her, then to the officers, “I don’t think I can help you.”
“Did she have a room here? Any personal property?” Tanaka was reaching and knew the answer before she asked the question, but she didn’t want to leave any stone unturned.
Elana rolled her eyes. “I guess you didn’t tell them, did you?”
“Elana,” he said quietly, warning.
His wife plowed on, “Ivy wasn’t welcome here any longer. Yes, she was here at Christmas for what—two hours, max? That was long enough, let me tell you. That girl was a klepto, a thief. Lived in a damned mansion, given anything she wanted by Mommy and Stepdaddy, and yet when she came here, she stole.”
“You don’t know that,” Victor argued, but the glare she sent him caused him to shut up.
“I do. She took a ring out of my jewelry drawer and some of Larissa’s things. Tell them, honey,” she said to the oldest girl, who was around twelve, all arms and legs, dressed in leggings and a short dress, just as her sisters were.
Larissa averted her eyes. “My phone,” she said.
“Your new iPhone!” Elana corrected. “She hadn’t had it two months.”
