Marriott looked at me sideways as she sat behind her desk. That was the thing about Marriott. She liked being depended on. Talked to. Trusted. Why do you think she became a psychologist?
I sat in the chair in front of her desk, giving her an earnest look. “I’ve worked for Mrs. Maxwell going on thirteen years now. She has regretted the accident since it happened and now she’s ready to make amends with Ivy, and I’m her messenger. All Mrs. Maxwell wants is for Ivy to know her name. With that, she can do as she wishes. She can come to her or drop it. And if she comes, Mrs. Maxwell will most likely apologize and help her out. End her struggles.”
“But Ivy has certain quirks, Mellie.” Mellie. That wasn’t my name. My real name was Georgia, as you know. I wasn’t foolish enough to give Marriott my real name. All of this could have backfired if she’d decided not to do what I suggested. Just as easily as I’d shown up at her office, she could have shown up at Lola’s to speak to her. “She isn’t mentally stable enough to have this kind of information,” Marriott went on. “Something as simple as knowing the name may throw her completely off track, push her right back out of reality.”
“She’s a big girl, Dr. Harold. I’m sure she can handle it, and if not, I’m sure Mrs. Maxwell will be happy to cover the care she needs.”
“That’s where you’re wrong about Ivy. I know for a fact she won’t take the news well. Ivy has a—a problem of becoming obsessed. She spent nearly two years pleading with me and the police for answers. I always promised her I’d find out the truth for her one day, but I only said that so she would hold on to hope. What I really wanted was for her to eventually forget about it and move on, and now that she’s starting to, you want me to feed her this name? How do I even know it was this woman? Lola Maxwell, is it?”
“Because I was there the night it happened. She had blood on her clothes. She was distraught. I also overheard her speaking to a police detective the next day, the same detective who was supposed to investigate the wreck. His name was Jack Shaw, right?”
Marriott’s throat bobbed. “You could have gotten that information from the Internet.”
“She paid off the detective, Dr. Harold. That’s why he never gave Ivy a name or any details. Mrs. Maxwell gave him five hundred thousand dollars so he’d keep her name out of the investigation, and that was the end of that.”
“She did what?” Marriott gasped. “Why would she do such a thing? Why didn’t she just own up to what she’d done?”
I shrugged. “I suppose Mrs. Maxwell was trying to protect her reputation.”
“Well, that’s mighty selfish, isn’t it? Who is this Lola Maxwell? Why is her reputation so important?
“Look her up. A quick Internet search and you’ll see why.”
Marriott sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said, still hesitant. “I know Ivy. She’ll want to face this woman. That could bring harm to both their lives, lead to unnecessary drama at the least.”
“Well, and this is just my opinion . . . Mrs. Maxwell deserves to at least be confronted about this, don’t you think?”
“Ivy will obsess,” Marriott went on, her eyes on her notes. “She’s a lonely girl. Information like this may be lethal. I understand what you and Mrs. Maxwell are trying to do, but Ivy would be better off without this knowledge in her possession.”
See what I meant? Dealing with her was like dealing with a piece of food stuck between your teeth. “What if Mrs. Maxwell offers you thirty thousand dollars?”
Marriott whipped up her head and looked deep into my eyes. That caught her attention. I suppose I’d learned a thing or two from Lola. Money was powerful, could shut any man or woman up if it was the right price. “Just for me to tell Ivy her name?”
I nodded.
Marriott drummed her nimble fingers on the edge of the desktop. “Well, I guess I could do it for that. I would just have to keep a close eye on her.”
“Let’s not play modest, Dr. Harold. You work on a government-need basis. You live in a one-bedroom apartment that’s too small for you and your three cats and you’re in debt up to your neck. You want better for yourself. You’ve always wanted better for yourself. Thirty grand will come in handy for someone like you.”
Marriott’s jaw dropped. “H-how do you know that?”
“I know a lot of things.”
Her hands were shaking now. She knew the deal. I wasn’t here on Lola’s behalf. I’d tried to use that and she wasn’t taking the bait, so I had to get assertive. “What are you? Some kind of investigator?”