Page 90 of Saving Ian Pope

“He’s a criminal? Ivy’s...brother is an ex-con? What kinds of charges?”

“Hmm, burglary, carjacking, auto theft, a few drug and weapons charges, fraud, nothing too serious.”

“Nothing too serious?” I was shouting, and Scruffy whimpered. “Weapons? That’s not serious?”

“He’s a Yank.” Jack took a gulp of something. “They all have weapons.”

I wiped a hand across my mouth. “You said fraud.”

“Yeah, my guy didn’t get into any details.”

“Blackmail.”

Jack clicked his tongue. “I didn’t say blackmail.”

“I know you didn’t. Ivy did.”

“Ivy? You talked to Ivy? That’s great, mate. How’s she doing?”

“You seem more worried about her than me. I didn’t talk to her. She left me a voicemail.”

“Who leaves voicemails? Me mum leaves voicemails, that’s who.”

“Yeah, mine too.” I shook my head. “That’s beside the point. In her voicemail, Ivy mentioned Jessica’s blackmail attempt. Said the way I handled it gave her courage to take care of something in her own life.”

“You think Matt’s blackmailing her? Over what?”

“I have no idea, but the fact that she’s out there in LA by herself planning to deal with this...ex-con gives me a bad feeling. How likely do you think it is this guy’s gonna give up twenty-five thousand quid without a fight?”

“I thought she was visiting her friend, Chloe.”

“She lied. What a surprise. Besides, that doesn’t make me feel any better. Chloe’s good at her job, but she’s daft.”

“Are you going to call Ivy back?”

“No. I may not know Maddie Russo, but I know Ivy Chase, and she’s determined to see this through. She wouldn’t listen to me, and if she thought I was coming out there to stop her, she’d move her plans up.”

“Move them up?”

“She told me she was gonna take care of business tomorrow night.”

“Wait, wait a minute. Go out to LA? Who said anything about going out to LA?”

“I did. Just now. I’m not going to let her put herself in danger because she thinks she needs to prove something to me.”

“You’re going out to LA to stop her?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

Chapter 30

IVY

It had been almost twenty-four hours since I left that cringe voicemail for Ian. Who left voicemails anymore? Chole’s mom, that’s who. I wished I could reach through my phone and take it back. With any luck, he wouldn’t even notice it or listen to it. Thank God I’d been cut off before I could utter any more embarrassing confessions. I’d claimed I wasn’t calling to offer excuses but then went right on to serve up the lamest excuse ever. I’d pulled the pity card. Poor me. If he had listened to the message, he’d probably seen right through it.

Always the optimist, I’d kept my hand curled around my phone in a death grip ever since—just in case. I hadn’t left the message to get him back, and I didn’t expect him to want me back, but a little ray of hope kept me checking my phone every five minutes.

“Can you just stop looking at your phone? It’s not gonna make time go any faster.” Chloe misinterpreted my agitation.

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