Bombshell
Page 63“They saw you and Tommy kissing, Ms. Ivy,” Sherlock said, speaking in perfect rhythm with Dillon, “more than a friendly kiss, an all-out French deal, and it bothered them. I know that sounds prudish, but the Cronins are of a different generation.”
She watched Melissa’s lovely mouth quiver, then firm up. “So I kissed Tommy. It was a thank-you kiss, really, nothing more. I thought they liked me.” The wistfulness in her voice was well done.
“But you knew they didn’t like you because they told Tommy they didn’t want him to bring you to their house Christmas Eve,” Sherlock said. “Did it bother you to find out they were merely being polite to a girl they believed was an opportunistic gold digger?”
“They should have liked me, because I’m not an opportunist. I’m a good student, I study hard, and I have lots of friends, too, more than that evil, crooked old man!”
Savich said, “So what did you and Tommy do on Christmas Eve?”
“We had our own private Christmas. Tommy said he’d drop by his aunt’s house in Potomac Village on Christmas Day, then he’d come right back to me, and he did.”
Sherlock picked it up. “Did Tommy give you those lovely pearl earrings?”
Melissa’s fingers touched one exquisite pearl drop. She wanted to say no, but realized it wouldn’t be smart, saw it in Sherlock’s eyes. Melissa cleared her throat. “Yes. They’re beautiful, aren’t they? I’m wearing them today to honor Tommy. There’s nothing more I can do, is there? It’s all so horrible.”
Melissa looked down at her UGGs, then shrugged. “We just sort of drifted apart, but I still really liked him.”
“You call it drifting in only three weeks?”
“Well, yes, sort of, I guess.”
Sherlock said, “All right. Did you do most of the drifting or did Tommy?”
“Well, I suppose I was the one to break it off.”
“Was Tommy upset about this?” Sherlock asked her.
“No, I don’t think so, not really.”
“He never said he was. I think he was ready to date someone else, too.” She was lying on that one, Sherlock thought, but let it go for the moment.
“I find that odd, Ms. Ivy,” Savich said. “He took you to meet his grandparents on Thanksgiving and he wanted you to be with his family on Christmas. It doesn’t sound to me like he wanted to drift at all, like the furthest thing from his mind was to date another girl. It sounds like Tommy was very serious in his feelings for you; maybe he was in love with you.”
“No, Tommy didn’t love me. I mean, we only dated, and he was very sweet, but—”
“Was Peter upset that you’d been with one of his friends, Ms. Ivy?” Savich asked.
“Oh, no, Peter always knew Tommy and I were only friends.” She stared straight at Savich as she spoke, and he could feel the pull to believe her.
“But you didn’t hook up with Peter until after you broke up with Tommy?” Savich asked.
“No, of course not.” Big nose on that one. Sherlock leaned toward her, sympathy brimming. “I’ll bet you were very concerned that your turning to Peter might affect their friendship.”
Savich asked abruptly, “Where are you from, Ms. Ivy?”
“From Cincinnati—well, from a suburb on the Kentucky side.”
“Are your parents paying your tuition at George Washington? Are they paying for your apartment?”
“No. My dad lost his job and all his money after the banking crash. He and my mom lost their house last year. I have to work, Agent Savich, to pay my tuition at GW.” He saw she finally realized where he was going, and added quickly, “I waitress over in Foggy Bottom. A lot of lobbyists and politicians. I get really big tips.”
Savich said, “Ms. Ivy, your income from your part-time waitressing brings in about half what it costs to pay the rent on your apartment. Then there’s your tuition, food, those new UGGs on your feet. Did Tommy help you out with rent money, with your bills?”
She wanted to say no—it hovered—but again, she proved she wasn’t stupid. She stuck up her chin. “Yes, he did, because he knew I couldn’t pay all my tuition last September and he offered to help me out. As I told you, Tommy was my friend. He knew I’d pay him back.”