Flyvy

Twenty-Six.

Ivy couldn’t believe she was sitting across from J.R. Bogues. In the flesh. He was taking down notes on the statement she had given him while the doctor tended to her leg, and she watched the famed detective like a hawk. She should have expected that he’d be on the case.

Finally, he glanced up and looked at her. Oh, she had dreamed of those eyes for years. They were a bit less blue than she thought, though. Frankly, she was older than he thought, too. And not quite as charming.

He flipped the notebook closed, tapping it on his knee a couple times and looking at Ivy with a pensive look.

“You did all that work,” he said. “For no pay, or glory, or anything. Why?”

“I don’t want money or fame,” Ivy shrugged. “I just wanted to bring justice to the victims. It’s always been a dream of mine.”

“I can’t imagine you’ve gotten much support.”

“You know what?” Ivy said slowly. “You’re wrong there. I’ve had just the right amount of support. From my mother and my sister and... friends.”

She was about to say Flynn, but held her tongue. She wasn’t sure where they stood with each other. It was hard to tell, with all the blood and adrenaline.

Bogues gave her one of his trademark charming smiles, but it seemed genuine. He stood up and gave her a brief nod.

“Thank you, Miss Brownwell,” he said. “And I wish you luck in your future work. It’s good to see bright young minds being put to good use.”

“Watch yourself,” ivy warned with a grin. “I’ll be coming for your throne.”

He chuckled, placing a hand on her head.

“I certainly hope you do.”

And with that, he was gone. Ivy let out a breath, looking to the doctor.

“How was I?” she asked.

“Very natural,” he reassured her.

“I should go,” Ivy said.

“Not so fast, Miss,” the doctor said. “You shouldn’t be walking on that leg right away.”

There were footsteps as another entered the room. Violetta looked down at Ivy with a look she couldn’t read. Some mix of embarrassment, pity, and resentment.

“We dent for your father,” she said plainly. “He should be here soon.”

“Is Flynn alright?” Ivy asked.

“He left.”

She didn’t give much more of an explanation, but Ivy didn’t need one. He left. He had done what he needed to do.

Ivy heard an earful from her father that night about her “work”, but she could tell he was proud of her all at once. It was certainly something to talk about at the next few parties. Ginny seemed equally proud. Partially because the Radcliffe family would finally be the butt end of all the gossip they loved so much.

Three days later, Ivy found herself able to walk enough to go into down. Guilt free, now that there wasn’t an active murderer on the street. She made her confident stride back to Harvey’s house and firmly knocked on the door.

Harvey answered, looking disheveled and confused. He looked at Ivy blankly for a few moments, then grumbled.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go get him.”

Ivy gave him a half smile as he shuffled back into the house. Flynn came to the door after. He seemed uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry about your father,” Ivy said. “I suppose you’ll be leaving soon?”

“I have what I came here for,” he said. He didn’t seem so sure of himself. “I had plans to return to Seahollow tonight. And after that, wherever my sails take me.”

“Well,” Ivy started, looking down at her feet. “It’s what you want. And I’m happy that you can live out your dream.”

He didn’t seem too happy about it, but Ivy couldn’t look at him for too long. She stuck her hand out with a smile.

“It was a pleasure to be your friend in your time here,” she said. “And you were a fantastic partner. Good luck, Flynn... Dawson. Flynn Dawson.”

“And to you, Detective Brownwell.”

He gave her hand a gentle shake. She lingered a bit longer than she liked, turning around and trying her hardest not to look back or cry, even though she could feel him watch her as she left. Leaving things on a handshake just felt wrong and empty, but that was the way things would have to be.

At supper, Ivy was quiet. She looked down at her food, poking at the potatoes absentmindedly.

“Ivy?” her father asked gently. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine,” Ivy said. “I’m just not very hungry.”

“Flynn is leaving,” Ginny explained.

“Ah, I see,” Herman sighed.

The three of them were quiet for a moment, until Ginny slammed down her silverware.

“How can you two just leave each other?” she demanded.

“Genevieve,” Herman said sternly.

“You’re thinking it too,” she said. “I bet he’s moving around too, just as much she is.”

“What do you expect me to do?” Ivy said. “Chain him to a pole and beg him not to go?”

“Go with him!” she said in exasperation. “The answer is obvious. You hate it here. And you’ve always dreamed of seeing the world. He’s your literal vehicle for that dream.”

“She’s not wrong,” Herman admitted.

“What?” Ivy said in disbelief.

“My darling,” he said, patting her hand. “I love you. More than anything. And every time I try to push you into a traditional mold, I see you shrivel up a little more. Ever since you’ve been seeing this boy, there’s a light in your eyes that I haven’t seen since your mother was with us. If this is what makes you happy, then I can survive with a month or so of being a ‘scandal’. It’s not the worst we’ve done, anyways.”

“But he’s probably halfway to Seahollow by now,” Ivy told them.

“Then I’ll help you pack,” Ginny said as she stood. “Just a small trunk. And I can send you the rest of your things when you’re ready.”

“But-“

“I’ll find the next train,” Herman suggested. “There should be one in the early morning. You’ll get there in a jiffy. Just hope he has some sorting of his own to do before he leaves.”

Ivy felt the butterflies in her stomach again. She was really going to do it.