“Bingo.” Jack slid two slices of garlic bread onto Ivy’s plate. She’d already grabbed two of her own, but he was familiar with her appetite. “He’s been arrested a good ten times. Sometimes for vandalism. Sometimes for theft. Like, two years ago he took the nativity scene from the front of the Catholic church in Bellaire and moved it to the grocery store, where he proceeded to dress up the statues as prostitutes.”
Ivy made a face. “I think that speaks to some deep psychological issue. He obviously has trouble with women.”
“I would agree with that statement. The problem is, most of Marvin’s crimes were committed against churches, and when the elders and priests realized he had emotional problems, they opted not to press charges.”
“Even though it probably would’ve been the best thing for him,” Ivy mused.
“Pretty much,” Jack agreed. “The shoplifting charge he was convicted of is ... weird. Basically he stole a golf cart from the resort out on the highway, went joyriding, and ran it into the pro shop when trying to bring it back. He was confused at the time, took a jacket to get warm, and ended up with a single shoplifting charge.”
“That doesn’t seem like much given the amount of damage he probably did.”
“No, but the notes on the file said that the resort owner felt bad upon meeting him. He didn’t want the book thrown at him, but he thought it was best there be some form of punishment. The prosecutor agreed ... and this is what they came up with.”
“Did he have ties to Sasha?”
“Not that I can find. In fact, I’m kind of curious where they even would’ve crossed paths.”
“Maybe he went to the same church as the Carmichaels.”
“That’s a possibility and Brian is going to ask one of the church elders — apparently he plays poker with him — if he recognizes Marvin. We don’t want to bother Sasha’s family unless we absolutely have to.”
“That’s probably smart.”
“I’m all kinds of smart,” Jack agreed, grinning as he transferred morels to Ivy’s plate. “If not at church, it seems unlikely to me that Marvin and Sasha were ever in the same spot.”
“Except he said her name,” Ivy pressed.
“Maybe he heard it on the television.”
“Does he have a television?”
“That’s another good question. We don’t know where he lives. The address listed on his probation paperwork is for a post office box. We’re still trying to track down where he’s living.”
“Huh.” Ivy pursed her lips. “It sounds like you don’t think it’s him.”
“I don’t know. I can’t say until we find a tie between him and Sasha. Right now it’s a waiting game. I would be much more apt to believe it’s Jason, who also hasn’t shown up.”
“Well, that sucks.” Ivy forked a huge wad of pasta into her mouth, leaving sauce at the corners of her lips again.
Jack couldn’t help but smile at the sight she made. “How about we let the case go for the rest of the night and do something more fun?”
“I can do that and talk about the case,” Ivy teased.
“Ha, ha.” He poked her side. “I was thinking more along the lines of a massage, a movie, and then another dream trip to a potential honeymoon destination. We need to pick a spot.”
Ivy brightened considerably. “That sounds fun. Where do you want to visit tonight?”
“I was thinking New Orleans again. You really liked it last time, but we didn’t make it out of the Garden District. I would like to hit Bourbon Street and throw beads at you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I am not lifting my top in the middle of a crowd, even if it is only a dream.”
“Challenge accepted.”
“That wasn’t a challenge.”
“We’ll see.”
13
Thirteen
“I can’t find my keys.”
Ivy furrowed her brow as she searched the kitchen counter for her keys the next morning. She couldn’t remember where she’d put them, which was unlike her. She was frazzled upon returning home the previous evening, though, and it was possible she’d tossed them someplace beyond the norm in her haste to get to the shower.
“You don’t need them.” Jack was calm as he leaned against the counter and sipped his coffee. Last night’s dream walk through the French Quarter had been exactly what both of them needed. When they first started sharing dreams — Ivy providing the magic and Jack the need to sort things out together — he’d been frightened. He wasn’t sure what any of it meant. Now, though, he was used to it ... and found he genuinely enjoyed the excursions. “I’m thinking that maybe New Orleans would be an excellent trip for a honeymoon.”
Ivy slid her eyes to him and smiled. The shared dream had been romantic ... and then some. She had other ideas for their honeymoon, though. “Actually, I was thinking we could do one of those river trips in a canoe, one where we camp along the way, for our honeymoon. It would be quiet, a break from all the hustle and bustle.”
Jack was officially horrified. “Are you trying to kill me?”
Ivy kept her expression neutral, although it took a bit of work. “I know you hate camping.”
“I do. We’ve been twice and it’s been an abject disaster both times.”
“Yeah, but ... I found this place.” She moved to a binder she kept on the counter. It included all their wedding stuff. “Max actually gave it to me the other day. It looks fantastic.”
“No.” Jack immediately started shaking his head. “I don’t want to go camping on our honeymoon.”
“This is actually geared toward people on their honeymoons,” Ivy explained. “The river isn’t dangerous. Novices can manage it — although there are rougher treks if you want to consider that — and it’s not like being in a regular tent. Each stop has special tents. It’s like glamping.”
Jack’s expression didn’t change. “I don’t know what glamping is, but I don’t want to do it.”
Ivy remained
