Chapter 88: The consequences of one lie

Ivy’s pov

"Miss Ivy Harpley?" the voice repeated on the other end, a little louder this time.

My tongue felt thick and useless, glued to the roof of my mouth.

"Yes," I managed to rasp. "This is she. What... what do you want? How may I help you?"

A cold knot of dread formed in my stomach. I had never received a phone call from the police in my entire twenty-five years.

My father had always made sure of that. Any scrape or any potential blemish on the Kingsley name, father would make sure it never ever happened. So why was the police calling me? And why as Ivy Harpley?

"We’ll need you to show up at the station, Miss Harpley."

"Show up? Why do I need to come?"

Irene’s laughter had died down, and she was watching me now, her head cocked; the ice-blue eyes that had been sparkling with mischief just moments ago were now narrowed with concern. "What’s wrong, Ivy?"

"It’s quite urgent, Miss Harpley," the officer continued, contributing to the panic seizing my chest. "You need to show up. Now."

Oh crap, crap! Had Milo said something? No. He couldn’t. He knew I would expose him in a heartbeat. He should be the one afraid, not me; that asshole was toying with the Knights.

"Ivy?"

Irene grabbed my arm. I flinched, snapping back to the present.

"Sure, no problem. I can be there soon. Can I come by at the close of work?"

"We need you to come now, Miss Harpley."

"Right. Of course." I ended the call, my hand trembling so violently I nearly dropped the phone.

"Ivy? What was that? Who called you? What’s going on?" Irene’s questions tumbled over each other; her face was etched with worry.

"Don’t worry," I forced a smile, trying not to crash to the ground.

"It’s just a... family thing. A small emergency." I started gathering the shopping bags at my feet, my movements jerky and clumsy. "Can you do me a huge favor? Can you take all this back to Winslow? I have to be somewhere very urgent."

"Of course," she said immediately. "Duke can drop you both off; it’s no trouble-"

"No!" The word shot out of me, and she reared back, eyes wide in shock. Shit. I took a breath, trying to soften my tone. "Sorry, I mean, no, really. You guys go on ahead. I’ll be fine. I’ll just grab a cab. Please, Irene."

She hesitated, her gaze searching my face, but finally, she nodded. "Okay. But you call me. The second you know what’s happening, you call me."

"I will," I lied.

I walked briskly to the curb, waving my hand frantically to hail a cab.

"Wisteria police department," I rushed out as I slid into the yellow cab, and as the car merged into traffic, I turned on my phone camera, checking my reflection anxiously.

Did I look like Harper Kingsley? Well, my disguise wasn’t exactly elaborate, but it would have to do.

It didn’t help that the Wisteria City Police Department was a grey, intimidating mass of concrete and glass. I felt like one step inside, all my lies would unravel. I paid the cabbie, my hands slick with sweat, and pushed through the heavy glass doors, swallowing hard as I approached the front counter.

"Uh, hello, I’m Ivy Harpley. I got a call to come here."

The officer behind the desk barely looked up. "Oh, yeah. Harpley. Go on in. Room three."

I followed the faded signs down the corridor, pushed open the door to Room Three, and froze.

Seated in a hard plastic chair, looking completely at ease, was a woman I was starting to regret ever knowing. What the hell was wrong with this woman? A slow, smug grin spread across her face. "I knew you would come."

My lips curled in disgust. "You? It’s because of you they called me?"

"See?" she beamed, turning her triumphant gaze to the weary-looking detective sitting across from her. "I told you my sister would come."

The detective sighed, rubbing his temples. "Your parents named both of you Ivy? Really?"

"Yeah," Ivy Thompson said, her voice dripping with sweetness. "Our parents just really loved the name."

Oh Lord, help me now; I was going to murder this woman. "What is the meaning of this? What’s going on?"

The detective cleared his throat. "Miss Thompson was picked up early this morning. Seems she committed a few... misdemeanors."

"Oh, come on," She whined, rolling her eyes. "I was only taking my money back."

"You attempted to break into the casino cashier’s office," The detective snapped, glaring at her.

My jaw dropped. "You tried to steal from a casino- you know what, whatever. Why am I being called?"

The detective looked at me like I was an idiot. "Are you not sisters? She gave you as her emergency contact. We’re calling you to post her bail."

"Bail?" I sputtered. "There’s no way-"

"Can I have a word with my sister, please?" Ivy Thompson cut in, her voice sickeningly sweet. "Just for a few seconds."

The detective shrugged. "Sure, whatever. I’ll get the paperwork started." He stood and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

The second he was gone, her smile vanished, replaced by a venomous glare. "You’re really not going to get me out of this?"

"Why would you try to steal from a casino?" I hissed, my voice shaking with rage. "You’re getting double the salary the Knights are paying me, and I’m giving you extra on top of that! I gave you more money barely a week ago!"

"What I do with my money is none of your business," she snapped.

"It is my business when I’m standing in a fucking police station because of you! Why would you tell them to call me?"

"Oh, maybe I should have told them to call my employers instead," she sneered, her eyes glinting with malicious knowledge. "See what they would say."

Here we fucking go again. "How long are you going to keep dangling that above my head? I only agreed to pay you what you would be getting paid if you were working there; this is extortion!"

"Keep talking." She leaned forward. "Why don’t you keep talking now, eh? Maybe I should call the Knight brothers and have them know that they need to save me because I’m their actual housekeeper. And you’re just there, doing God knows what, like some obsessed stalker."

The accusation was so ridiculous. She thought I was just some gold-digging fan. This was a mess. I had to get the hell out of here.

"I’m not paying bail."

"So you’re just going to let me rot in jail?!" She screeched.

"It’s called consequences," I snapped. "You can’t try to steal from a casino and not expect to be punished for it-"

The door to the interrogation room swung open as the detective walked back in, but a voice in the corridor outside had my heart dropping to the floor and exploding into a million pieces.

"Welcome, Mr Knight. We’re honored to have you here."

No way. No freaking way. What was a Knight doing here at the police station?