19. Susannah

W e have news.

Susannah stared at Madeline's text for the longest time, a little unwilling to let a lovely Friday afternoon on the deck be ruined by…whatever Adam and his team of FBI friends had learned about Ivy Button.

Raina's doorbell camera had given them a blurry image, but Adam seemed certain it was enough to begin the process of learning more about their nemesis. It had taken some time, but he had said a few days ago they were making progress and he'd be getting a report before the end of the week.

That must be the news. But was it good? Wouldn't Madeline have said so?

Susannah turned as she heard Rex's footsteps behind her as he walked through the French doors to join her in their favorite sitting area, ready to watch evening fall over the coastline of Amelia Island.

"Okay, this is not Tori-level charcuterie, but—"

"You made a board?"

"I sliced cheese, found crackers, opened olives, and finished that hummus in the fridge—the one without peppers, I promise. Oh, I threw on some grapes for decoration and you can call it what you want. Charcuterie sounds a little upscale for this mess." He set the tray on the coffee table, careful not to tip two champagne flutes or the large bottle of Pellegrino that would be used to fill them. "I call it a celebration of life."

"It's perfect, Rex, but ‘celebration of life' sounds like a funeral."

"Which…" He bent over and kissed her on the top of her head. "It most certainly is not, and I have every scan, probe, test result, and medical opinion to prove it." He straightened and grinned toward the ocean, his shoulders seeming broader this afternoon.

She suspected that was because they'd met with his cardiology and neurology teams today and was given a perfect bill of health.

Except for a little heartburn, which he could manage by skipping certain foods, like peppers and alcohol, which they agreed was a small sacrifice for a long life ahead.

Rex was happy with the news, but repeatedly said he wasn't surprised. Susannah, on the other hand, cried for joy in the car all the way home.

"I really had no idea how worried I was," she admitted, smiling up at him. "But not anymore."

"No worries for Wingates," he said with true Rex confidence. "And now I can take that Ivy Button creature to the mat and fight her all the way to the Supreme Court if I have to."

If they did that, Susannah knew it would be ugly. Maybe Rex could handle it physically. But emotionally? She wasn't sure.

"That may happen sooner than you think," she said, holding up her phone as he sat next to her.

"She called you?"

"No, but Madeline and Adam said they have news."

"What kind of news?"

"I don't know. There's no adjective like…good, happy, life-changing, or wretched. Just news."

"When do we find out what it is?" Rex twisted the sparkling water open and poured it with the same flourish he'd use if it were Moёt. "Get them over here. I can add to my board if they're hungry."

She let out a sigh and wrinkled her nose. "Is it wrong that I don't want to think about that nastiness on the horizon and just gaze happily at this one?" She gestured toward the blue-on-blue slice of sea and sky in front of them. "You are completely healthy and I want to bask in that for today."

"I'd be healthier if I heard good news," Rex said, picking up a champagne flute and offering the bubbly water to her for a toast. "To the future," Rex said, dinging their crystals. "May it be filled with love, laughter, daughters, sons-in-law, and so many grandchildren, we lose count of them all."

She just smiled, but the tears stung again.

"More waterworks?" he joked.

"I just love you and want to protect you, Rex. It's what I've always wanted." She sipped when he did, setting down the glass and leaning back to watch the waves crash on the sand.

"What you've protected," Rex said after he took a drink, "is the Wingate family name."

She threw him a look, not sure what he meant.

"Obviously, you've been the best imaginable mother," he continued. "But you've cared so deeply about the family name all these years. From the day I told you I was Rex Wingate—"

"After you walked out on your check at the Riverfront Café without telling me you owned the place," she reminded him with a laugh. "I had to march after you to get my seven dollars and forty-two cents."

"But I slipped you a five-dollar tip."

"That's what your grandson Zach would call a flex."

He chuckled. "I remember turning around when I heard this high-pitched squawk of, ‘Hey, Mister! Hey! You didn't pay your bill!'"

"How was I supposed to know you were a Wingate? I'd only been on Amelia Island about a week or two, dead broke after running away from Georgia, and so happy to have been hired at the waterfront diner. I couldn't lose that job because I let some hotshot guy in a suit flirt with me."

"How could I not?" Rex countered. "You were so perky and cute and had that fresh-out-of-Savannah Southern accent."

"But you could have paid or at least told me you had the same name as the street."

"I did!" His dark eyes danced with mirth at the memory they never tired of sharing. He pointed upwards to an imaginary street sign, exactly as he'd done that day when she'd demanded to know just who the heck he thought he was. "And that changed—"

"Everything," she said on a sigh. "And not because I was impressed by your money or businesses."

"I know." He reached for her hand. "From Day One, you had a bone-deep respect for my family's reputation. You honored the name far more than some people who were born with it."

She closed her eyes, remembering how she'd felt when she learned the heritage and history of the Wingates.

"I came from nothing, Rex," she said, even though this wasn't news to him. "And I felt shame for my family. My father was a drunk who never contributed a thing to his community and I always longed for the self-respect that I imagined came with having a solid name and family."

"I knew that." He squeezed her hand. "I sensed that from the moment I met you. And I was terrified to ask you on a date because I had so much baggage."

"Four daughters." She smiled. "Hardly baggage. Four amazing, beautiful, spectacular daughters who…" She made a face. "I never adopted."

"Excuse me?" he scoffed.

"You know I never did the paperwork. Sadie came along, then Grace, and Chloe. We were too busy and—"

"Does it matter now?" Rex asked with that pragmatic look he gave when she got just a tad too emotional.

"I guess not, but…" She sighed. "It's a small regret in a life with very few of them. I wouldn't hate it if the four older girls called me Mom."

"Just ask them to."

"Well, it's a little late after forty years."

"Why didn't you ask them to when they were little?"

"Oh, I don't know. Out of respect for Charlotte, I suppose. But maybe it was deeper than that." She thought about it, then nodded as the thoughts formed.

"I wasn't sure I could be a mother," she admitted on a whisper. "My own disappeared when I was a child and I had no role model other than TV moms or women I observed doing the job. I wasn't sure I could earn the title, and ‘Suze' rolled off their lips."

He studied her for a long time, his gaze full of affection. "Didn't hurt your relationship with them. You couldn't be closer to those four daughters, or the three you gave birth to."

"No, I couldn't." She glanced at the phone lighting up on the table. "Oh, it's Madeline. Hang on."

She tapped the screen and put it on speaker. "Hey, there—"

"Can we come over?" Madeline asked without preamble. "We want to tell you what Adam found out."

"Is it good or bad news?" Susannah asked, holding Rex's gaze.

"Just…news."

Oh, that did not sound good.

"Come over now," Rex said, leaning closer to the phone. "We're on the deck."

"Good. We're in the driveway. Be right up."

They didn't say anything, but looked at each other with that insanely deep connection that started under that street sign more than forty years ago, and showed no signs of ending.

"Whatever it is," Rex said softly, "we'll handle it together."

"You bet we will," she agreed, standing when she saw Adam and Madeline walking up the side steps, hand in hand.

"Hey, Suze." Madeline reached for her and gave a warm hug, and Susannah fleetingly wondered how it would feel if she'd said, "Hey, Mom," instead.

Different? Better? She'd never know. Plus, there were far more important things to discuss.

They gathered around the coffee table and charcuterie, but no one seemed interested in chatting or enjoying appetizers. Adam's expression was too serious.

"Doreen Parrish does have a sister," he started after a beat. "Her name is Felicity Button and she does live in a very expensive private assisted-living facility in Minneapolis."

Susannah felt her heart drop. "So, that much of Ivy's story is true. I wonder why Doreen never mentioned a sister. She never even took a vacation or time off to visit family."

"We may never know," he said. "Felicity has dementia and has been going downhill rapidly this past year. The sisters were raised in Yulee."

Rex nodded. "I recall that Doreen was from the mainland."

"No father that anyone knows of, but their mother died when they were young. Doreen came here, got a job at the inn, and Felicity followed a guy she was dating up to Minneapolis. Not sure if that's the same person she married, but she does have one daughter."

"Ivy?" Susannah asked.

"Her legal married name is Olivia Button Beattie, but…" He swallowed. "Ivy is her nickname."

Susannah dropped back with a grunt. "So her story holds up."

"It gets worse," Madeline said softly, sharing a look with her husband.

How could it, Susannah wondered. But she just squeezed the armrests of her chair and waited for whatever bomb they'd drop.

"I spoke with a nurse at the assisted-living facility," Adam said. "She confirmed that Ivy is a frequent visitor, that she has dark hair and is petite, and that for years, Felicity received letters from her sister in Florida. They stopped about a year ago."

Rex closed his eyes. "Then they're real letters," he said.

"We simply have to prove they're full of lies," Susannah countered. "Because you didn't assault that woman and I don't know why she would say you did."

"A million reasons," Rex murmured. "She wasn't that bright and maybe it seemed harmless to her to make up a story like the romance novels she read. Maybe she was jealous of anyone who came near me—including both my wives. You were her boss at Wingate House, Suze, and constantly had run-ins because no housekeeper in the county wanted to work for her."

Susannah groaned and put her head in her hands.

"Don't give up yet," Madeline said.

" I'm not giving up," Rex insisted. "Whatever she wrote was a lie and we have to prove that. I just don't know how you interrogate a dead woman."

"We do," Adam said with the confidence of a former FBI agent. "We'll comb the letters for inconsistencies, and I've called in a favor with a special agent in St. Paul, who agreed to snoop around Ivy's life, home, family, whatever he can find. I have her phone number and current address. If she's been caught in lies before, we'll find out."

"But when?" Madeline asked, voicing what they were all thinking. "By the time we've cleared Dad's name, real damage could have been done."

"Rex Wingate's name stands on its own," Susannah declared, taking his hand. "And regardless of what it puts us through, we will make sure this lie doesn't stick."

Rex pressed her knuckles to his cheek. "Thank you, Suze. There's no one else I'd rather have by my side in battle. And that, my dear wife, has been true since that fateful and wonderful day we met."

She didn't want this fight, but now that she had it? She'd win it. For Rex. For her family. For the Wingate name.

Much of Susannah's bravado faded with the light of dawn.

After a long and mostly sleepless night, she was back on her beachfront deck, watching her husband dive into the Atlantic Ocean, as he did every morning. At this time of year, the water wasn't freezing, only a bit chilly at sunrise, but he still loved his "cold plunge therapy."

In fact, he'd told his medical team yesterday that he credited the morning routine with his clean bill of health. They'd humored him with smiles and nods, but Rex believed in his morning dips that left him shivering on the sand.

Susannah didn't feel the same about a morning swim, but she had taken to standing here at the deck railing almost every morning. She could breathe in the salt-infused air and keep an eye on the man she loved as he walked down to the sea and stepped into the waves.

This morning—especially after the medical meeting—she wasn't watching for him to clutch his chest or falter on the sand. She wanted to see if his shoulders were still square with steadfast resolve or if he hung his head in dread of the war they had to fight with some stranger who…just appeared.

Why hadn't this Olivia "Ivy" Button Beattie looked up her Aunt Doreen sooner? What kind of relationship did Doreen and Felicity really have? Why wait a year to press for the transfer of the deed? Why steal a house or wear filthy sneakers when your mother could afford a private assisted-living facility?

She hated the circular thoughts and unanswered questions that had haunted her all night. She'd rather watch Rex. She'd rather let the rising sun warm her face. She'd rather do anything—

"You're here every day, aren't you?"

Susannah gasped and whipped around to see the familiar and unwelcome face of Ivy Button coming up the side stairs to the deck.

"What are you doing here?" she asked on a shocked breath.

"You're never not with him," Ivy said. "Trust me, I keep an eye on your comings and goings, Suze, and this is the one sliver of time I can get you without Rex."

Her heart slammed against her ribs as she backed against the railing.

"Why don't you want to talk to Rex?" Susannah asked. "Are you scared of him?"

"Of Sexy Rexy? That's what my aunt said everyone called him."

Did they? She'd never heard the expression and he said it was a handle hung on him by fraternity brothers in college. Doreen could have known that, though. He was in college when…when this all happened.

"What do you want from me?" Susannah asked, forcing strength into a voice that felt like it could easily waver.

Ivy notched a thin brown upwards. "To avoid the trouble of what you know I can do to this family," she said. "Put my name on the deed and let's call this thing."

The deed that Raina had located and was on Susannah's desk.

Yes, it would be easy, but what kind of "warrior" would it make her to give up so easily?

"Over my dead body," Susannah ground out.

Ivy's eyes flickered just enough to make Susannah's blood run cold.

"I had a feeling you'd be difficult," the other woman said on a sigh, taking a split-second look at the water, but Susannah didn't take her eyes off Ivy.

Was she scared of Rex? She didn't want to face him. Why not? Had they met before? Did she know him from work or life or was she just intimidated because he was so much more formidable than Susannah?

Ivy crossed her arms and cocked her head. "Then why don't we make a deal, Suze?"

Susannah drew back, not expecting that.

"Raina offered money," Ivy said. "I think that would be easier for you."

Really. Well, now she was truly getting into blackmail territory.

"You guys are loaded." Ivy flipped a hand at the expansive beach house. "Let's come up with a number. Say three hundred thousand? Four? I can be reasonable."

Reasonable? She was out of her ever-loving mind. Disgust rolled through Susannah as a powerful realization hit. Ivy wanted to negotiate? Why? To pay for the assisted-living facility?

It didn't matter. Right now, Susannah had the upper hand. She just needed to figure out how to use it.

"So, can I take your silence as a yes, Suze?"

"No."

"Then let me up the ante." She took a few steps closer. "Because I've been having conversations with a nice lady named Helen from a law firm that handles adoptions and such."

Her heart slid around in her chest as she waited for the rest.

"And it occurred to me that if I showed up at the hearing scheduled for…Monday, is it?"

Raina and Chase's adoption was on the books for Monday morning at the courthouse. They'd already planned to attend as a family to celebrate Chase becoming Charlie and Lily's father.

"Well, I could cause some trouble, don't you think?" Ivy asked. "The judge will offer up time for open commentary and ask if there's anyone who has objections. I know this is true, because my friend Helen told me."

Susannah just stared at her, her pulse pounding so hard she could barely hear what the woman was saying.

"Unless we work out…an arrangement."

"A three- or four-hundred-thousand-dollar arrangement," Susannah said under her breath, suddenly wondering if they could get that much money if they cashed out some investments.

Because now it wasn't about Rex's reputation, but Raina's babies and their father!

They stared at each other for a few heartbeats, then Ivy stole another glance at the water, almost, but not completely, hiding her reaction. Suze turned, too, just in time to see Rex step out of the frothy waves and reach for the neatly folded towel he'd left next to his sandals.

"Think about it, Suze. Fast. Clock's ticking." She turned and started to walk away, while Susannah clung to the railing.

They could get that kind of money and this nightmare could be over. All she had to do was say yes, because if she ruined Chase's adoption…

"Ivy," she called, but there wasn't enough force in her voice and the woman kept walking. "Olivia!" she shouted.

Nothing made a person hesitate like the use of their full given name.

But not Ivy. She didn't even react. She just disappeared to the bottom of the steps and around the house.

Susannah sucked in a soft breath, a sudden realization hitting her. Ivy didn't know her name. That changed everything.

Now she knew exactly what to do with that upper hand…and pray it hit the target that was just revealed to her.