The Fixer Page 31

“Wait,” I said. Vivvie froze where she stood, but didn’t turn back to face me. I walked out onto the porch and looped around her, so that we were facing each other. Her head was bowed, her dark hair dangling in her face.

“Vivvie?”

She angled her head up to look at me. Her lip was bleeding. Her left eye was swollen shut.

CHAPTER 29

Vivvie was shaking. Gently, I raised a hand to her arm. She stepped back.

“My dad knows,” she whispered, her voice cutting through the night air. “About the phone. He knows I took it. He must have had second thoughts about the way he disposed of it, because he went to get it back.”

And it was gone. Bile rose in the back of my throat.

“I’ve never seen him like that, Tess.” Vivvie shook her head. She couldn’t stop shaking it, her body saying no, no, no, again and again. “He was . . .”

She couldn’t finish the sentence. My heart beating viciously inside my chest, I did it for her. “Angry.”

“Scared,” she said softly. “He was so scared. I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about, but he didn’t believe me. He kept saying that I had to give him the phone.”

Vivvie didn’t have the phone. I did. She couldn’t give it to him, and I was looking at the result.

I knew. I knew he might hurt her. I knew—

“I’m so sorry, Vivvie.” I choked out the words. I was sorry I had let this happen to her, sorry I hadn’t told Ivy the second I realized the major had laid hands on his daughter to begin with.

“He gave me ibuprofen for the swelling.” Vivvie’s voice shook.

He hit her, then gave her something for the swelling. Fury churned in my gut.

“Tess?” Ivy’s voice had a tendency to carry. She came to stand on the front porch, and I realized I’d followed Vivvie out into the street.

“We have to tell her, Vivvie.”

Vivvie shook her head again.

“I know who your father was talking to. I know who hired him.”

Vivvie’s head stopped shaking, but her body still trembled. “Tess—”

“The president asked Ivy to look into a potential nominee.” I searched my memory for the details. “Judge Pierce. Ivy was on a video conference with him.” My throat was dry, each word hard-won. “I recognized his voice.” That statement—and all its implications—hung in the air. Vivvie said nothing. I couldn’t stop talking. “If we don’t do something, that man might be the person the president nominates to replace Justice Marquette.”

I could hear Vivvie’s breath go ragged. On the porch, Ivy was still staring out at the two of us. Vivvie pressed her lips into a line. Her breath evened out. And she said one word.

“Okay.”

• • •

Vivvie and I sat on the sofa. Ivy was sitting across the coffee table from us. As soon as we’d started talking, she’d called Adam. He stood behind her now.

“Here.” Bodie handed Vivvie a fresh bag of ice. Vivvie took it but didn’t press it to her face.

“You’re sure about what you heard?” Ivy asked Vivvie. There was no judgment in her voice. This wasn’t a leading question. She wasn’t trying to make Vivvie second-guess herself.

Still, I stiffened. “She wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t.”

“I’m talking to Vivvie, Tess.” Ivy barely spared me a glance. The moment she’d realized that Vivvie wasn’t just now coming to me with this, that I’d known and said nothing, a visible change had come over my sister’s body. It was like she’d been submerged in a tub of freezing water and steeled herself against the cold.

Sugar and spice and everything nice, right up to the point where she wasn’t.

“I’m sure.” Vivvie turned the bag of ice over in her hands. “I know it sounds crazy. It doesn’t make any sense that he would do something like this, but . . .” Vivvie swallowed back whatever words or tears wanted to come. When she spoke again, her voice was detached. “He’s not himself right now.”

The father Vivvie knew wouldn’t have killed someone. But the father Vivvie knew wouldn’t have hit her. Hurt her.

“Vivvie’s father isn’t our only problem.” I drew everyone’s attention from Vivvie to me. “She mentioned the cell phone she heard him talking on. What she didn’t say was that after she fished it out of the trash, she gave it to me.”

Ivy’s gaze slowly shifted from Vivvie to me. I felt the weight of her stare.

“She gave you the phone, and you didn’t bring it to me?” Ivy asked sharply. Behind her, the frown on Adam’s face deepened. Beside me, Vivvie shivered.

Let them focus on me, cross-examine me. “She gave me the phone. I had a friend retrieve the call log.”

“You what?” The iciness in Ivy’s tone gave way to heat.

“I called the numbers.”

Ivy ground her teeth together. I could feel her, silently counting to ten.

Bodie didn’t make it that far. “Of course you did,” he muttered. “Because why not call the number of someone you think might have bankrolled an assassination?”

“Bodie,” Adam ground out. “You’re not helping.”

Ivy must have reached ten, because she leaned forward, reducing the space between us by half. “You called. Someone answered.” She didn’t phrase it as a question.

“Someone answered,” I confirmed. I told her what that person had said, the same way I’d told it to Vivvie: verbatim.

“You still have the phone?” Adam asked. I nodded. “Get it,” he ordered. “Now.”

I did as I was told. The moment I placed it in his hand, his fingers closed lightly around mine. “You’re done,” he told me. “I have people I can take this to at the Pentagon. Your sister can loop in the White House. But you’re done.”

It was suddenly very easy to see the soldier in Adam. The one who was used to giving orders and having them obeyed.

“There’s one more thing,” I said. I glanced over at Vivvie. Her hair fell into her face, obscuring her fat lip and most of her swollen eye. Her fingers gently kneaded the bag of ice in her lap.

“The person on the other end of the phone line? The one who said that the doctor wouldn’t get his money until he got his nomination?” I looked from Adam to Bodie and finally to my sister. “I recognized his voice.”