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“CHIEF CLARKSON, MEET Ivy Marin.” Bennett introduced the police chief and gestured to a table in his office where they could all sit. Since she’d come to him about the paintings, he had new respect for her. Not everyone would have reported such a find.
Because of this, he felt protective of Ivy, though he knew she could certainly take care of herself. No, he would be like this with any Summer Beach resident, he told himself. And she had been his client, too.
“Pleased to meet you,” Chief Clarkson said. “The mayor tells me you don’t agree with what your husband planned to do with Las Brisas.”
“That’s right,” Ivy said. “Word sure gets around here.”
“You have no idea,” Bennett said. “Mrs. Marin—”
“Call me Ivy, please.”
“Ivy has encountered an unusual situation,” Bennett said. “As her
