Afterward, we drove back to Stingray Bay to have a word with Ivy's mother. She lived two streets over from the shooting on Windswept Court.
JD and I rang the bell, and Mrs. Rourke answered the door a moment later. I flashed my badge and made introductions. A grim frown tensed her face, and she invited us inside.
It was easy to see where Ivy had gotten her good looks. In her early 40s, Mrs. Rourke was an attractive blonde with short, stylish hair, a trim figure, and elegant features.
She escorted us across the vaulted foyer, into the sprawling living room, and offered us a seat on the sofa. We obliged, and she took a chair catty-corner to us. Megan grabbed a tissue fromthe box on the glass coffee table. Already starting to tear up, she blotted her ice-blue eyes.
The furnishings were sleek and modern. Walls were decorated with pastel abstracts. It had a cozy but modern vibe. Like many of the homes in Stingray Bay, there was a nice patio and a pool. Floor-to-ceiling glass window walls offered a view of the canal beyond.
"Do you have any idea who did this?” she asked with a shaky voice.
"We are in the process of running down several leads," I said. "Did Ivy have any enemies? Anyone at school she was at odds with?”
Megan shook her head. "Not that I'm aware of. But you should talk to Casey.”
I gave her a look that begged her to continue.
"Her best friend. I was close with Ivy, but I'm sure there were things she told Casey that she told no one else.”
“I’ll need contact info for her.”
“Certainly.”
"You live here alone?"
Her face tightened, and tears spilled over. It was probably a bad question to ask. “I do now. Ivy's father is deceased. He passed away two years ago."
"I'm sorry to hear that.” She didn’t go into detail, but curiosity got the best of me.
She continued, her eyes welling again. “Helicopter crash in the mountains in Colorado. Poor visibility. They should never have gone up that day.”
I gave a sympathetic frown and offered condolences again. “What about jealous ex-boyfriends?”
Megan shook her head. “Ivy didn’t have time for boyfriends. Too busy with school, her friends, and computers.”
“Computers?”
“She was on that thing 24/7, trading crypto, programming, playing games.”
“Do you know how much crypto she had?” JD asked.
“Oh, I wouldn’t even begin to know.” With skepticism, she asked. “Is that really anything? Seems like a Ponzi scheme to me.”
JD shrugged. “Fastest-growing asset class.”
“Tulip mania, if you ask me.”
“I’m sure the answer is no,” I said. “But did Ivy ever use drugs?”
Megan looked at me like the notion was absurd. “Lord, no. Ivy was a good kid. Straight A’s. She was too smart to get involved in something like that.”
“Of course.” I took a deep breath. “Well, we won’t take up any more of your time.” I gave her a card. “Please get in touch if you think of anything that might be helpful.”
She nodded, then texted me Casey’s contact info.
Megan escorted us to the door, then pleaded with a tormented face, “Please find the people who killed my baby.”
“We will,” I assured her before expressing our condolences once again.
