Ever Present Danger (19 page)

Something rattled the window, and Ivy froze, her heart galloping, her body feeling as though it were plastered to the bed. Was someone out there?

She sucked in a breath and couldn’t seem to exhale, then heard what sounded like a gust of wind slam into the window. She rolled over on her side and looked out at the swaying silver spruce trees
and remembered that a cool front was supposed to move through overnight.

Ivy pulled the blankets up to her eyes and listened to the wind howl. It was a long time before her pulse quieted down. Finally, she slid out of bed and went over to the window and made sure it was locked. She moved her eyes across the moonlit grounds and didn’t hear Sasha barking. She checked the window locks again and pulled the blinds, wondering how feasible it was for someone to climb up to the second story and break in.

Ivy grabbed the blue and beige afghan off the old wooden trunk, wrapped it around herself, and sat in the rocking chair.

Brandon Jones woke up at 3:30 a.m. and realized the other side of the bed was empty. He got up and found Kelsey sitting on the couch, her Bible in her lap.

“What’re you doing up?” Brandon said.

Kelsey Jones put her hand over her mouth and captured a yawn. “Praying like nuts for Ivy Griffith. I can’t get her off my mind.”

“Well, after what she’s been through, it’s not hard to understand why. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to find your friends shot to death like that.”

“And on top of losing someone who’s been like a mother to you. Though I’m not feeling nudged to pray so much about her grief as her fear.”

“Fear of what?”

Kelsey shrugged. “I don’t know. But I sense there’s some sort of spiritual battle going on. Maybe I should make an effort to get to know Ivy. She really doesn’t have anyone her age to talk to.”

“What would you have in common, Kel? She’s been a drug addict most of her adult life.”

“I know it’s a stretch, but with Lu gone, who has Ivy got? Carolyn said Ivy doesn’t really talk to her, and we women need to talk in order to process our feelings.”

“Maybe she’ll turn to her mother now.”

“I hope so. But it won’t happen overnight. Besides, most gals don’t communicate with their mothers the same way they do with close girlfriends. Believe it or not, girl talk is often a prelude to meaningful conversation.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Brandon sat next to her on the couch, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Meaningful conversation with the guys can be a lot of hootin’ and hollerin’ when our team scores a touchdown. Or grunting and groaning while we’re backpacking or climbing or shooting the rapids.”

“That surprises me since you’re such a good conversationalist.”

“With you. Not with the guys. We don’t need conversation to process our feelings. Thinking things through seems to work better.”

“Don’t you and Buzz talk when you guys go places?”

“Yeah, but not about anything meaningful.”

Kelsey smirked. “As if Buzz were capable of it.”

“If I want meaningful guy talk, I go to Jake. If I want adventure, I hang out with Buzz. Most of the time I just work things out on my own. Or talk to you.”

“Well, I’m convinced Ivy needs a friend, if nothing else. I know she doesn’t work Wednesdays, and I’m usually off that day, too. Maybe I’ll see if she wants to come over here for coffee and cookies or something.”

IVY GRIFFITH SPENT Monday in a fog, but when Tuesday morning came around, she dressed for work and made the choice not to let Lu’s death or the murders of her friends rule her thinking. Life had been too sad for too long. She knew she had to find something to look forward to if she stood any hope of staying off drugs. A knock on the door startled her.

“Come in.”

The door opened and her father poked his head in the room. “You about ready?” Elam Griffith said. “I’m your taxi this morning.”

“It just seems like a lot of trouble for you to drive me into town when you’ve got other places to be.”

“No problem. I decided to meet Flint for breakfast.”

Great. Then I’ll have two of you breathing down my neck
.

“Don’t look so grim. It’s really no trouble. I have an early meeting with my stockbroker, and your mother will be chauffeuring the boy back and forth to school.”

Ivy wondered if her father persisted in calling Montana
the boy
just to irritate her. She grabbed her coat and her purse. “I want to kiss Montana good-bye before I leave. I’ll be right down.”

Ivy went into Montana’s room, stood over his bed, and listened to his deep breathing. She wondered if she had ever fallen asleep last night and if she would be a zombie at work today.

She bent down and whispered, “I’m leaving for work now. I’ll see you after school. Be good for Grandmother Griffith. I love you so much.”

She pressed her lips to his warm cheek, then hurried downstairs to the front door, where her father was waiting.

“We’ll be lucky to get there by six,” Elam said. “Should’ve been on the road ten minutes ago.”

“I always leave at twenty till six.” Ivy tried to keep her voice sounding pleasant. “I haven’t been late yet.”

“Then you were driving too fast.”

Ivy resisted the impulse to remind her father that she wasn’t a high school kid anymore and didn’t need him telling her how to get to work on time. She followed him out to the Suburban and climbed in the passenger seat, aware of the brightness of the moon and a crisper feel to the air.

“The wind really whipped through here last night,” Elam said. “Did you hear it?”

“Yeah, scared me a little at first. Then I remembered we were supposed to get a cold front.” Ivy glanced up at the second story windows and didn’t see how anyone could reach them without a ladder.

“Did you sleep okay?”

“No, I was pretty restless.”

Ivy half listened to her father talking about some projects he had in the works, but didn’t say anything else until they arrived at Jewel’s and she pointed to her watch. “See? It’s five minutes till six. I’ve got plenty of time. All I need to do is time in and plug in the coffeepot. The night crew sets the tables.”

“Whatever happened to giving yourself an extra five minutes?” Elam said as he followed her in the back door of Jewel’s Café.

“There you are, doll!” Jewel hurried over to Ivy and hugged her. “That turned out to be
some
class reunion. You sure you’re ready to come back to work?”

“I am
so
ready,” Ivy said. “I need to get my mind on something else.”

“Well, that shooting’s the biggest thing to happen here since
the widow Thompson found Jacob Tanner’s ear on the back porch. You’re going to hear customers talking about it. Some might even be tacky enough to ask you about it. Think you can handle that?”

Ivy nodded. “I’ll just tell them it happened exactly the way they heard about it on the news. But it’s usually too busy in here for me to stand around and talk anyway.”

“Hope you don’t mind me sneaking in the back door with her,” Elam said. “But I’m meeting Flint for breakfast right at six.”

“Heavens no. You go right out there and sit wherever you like. We’ll have this place open in nothing flat.”

The café was packed with customers, and Ivy hardly had a chance to slow down until ten o’clock. No one besides Flint Carter had even mentioned the shooting to her directly, though she heard several people talking about it.

When the breakfast traffic thinned out, she began wiping down tables with Clorox water. Her thoughts turned to Montana, and she hoped he was able to forget his grief over Lu while he was at school and just be a kid. She was glad he didn’t know the graphic details about the shooting and hoped he wasn’t hearing things at school he didn’t need to know.

Ivy started to put silverware on the tables when Bill Ziwicki walked in the door.

“Hey, Ivy!”

“Bill…what a surprise. Are you here to eat?”

“Yeah. And to see you. Just seat me anywhere. I really don’t care.”

Ivy smiled. “Well, since you’re the only customer at the moment, why don’t you choose?”

“Okay. How about there by the window?”

Bill sat at the second table by the window and handed the menu back to her. “Just bring me a couple of Jewel’s homemade cranberry muffins and a cup of coffee, and I’ll be in hog heaven.”

“I’ve never seen you in here before.”

“I used to come in pretty often. It’s been awhile. Guess I got tired of eatin’ alone. Now that you’re here, I have an incentive.” Bill held her gaze. “So how’re you doin’ after the weekend?”

“Not all that well,” Ivy said. “I’m really jumpy and can’t get the murder scene out of my head.”

“Yeah, I hear that. I sure haven’t been sleepin’ through the night. Were the sheriff’s investigators nice to you?”

“I guess so. But they wore me out asking the same questions over and over.”

Bill nodded. “I noticed that, too. They must’ve asked me a hundred times if I left the Aspen Room—which I didn’t, except to go to the men’s room. They came at me really hard. Like
I
know anything. Asked me all kinds of gun questions and even tested my hands for gunpowder residue. Kinda ticked me off, but they were just doin’ their job I guess. I think they always suspect whoever’s first on the scene.”

“Well, I’ve wracked my brain and can’t think of anybody in our class who would’ve killed those guys.”

“Me either. But I sure never expected to be treated like a suspect when all I was doin’ is tryin’ to help.”

“Well, you certainly did help, and I told the investigators that. You’re the one who stayed rational and took control of the situation.” Ivy smiled. “Why are you blushing?”

“I don’t know. I’m not used to people sayin’ nice things about me.”

“Well, they should.” Ivy patted his arm and wrote something on her green pad. “Let me bring your coffee and get a couple of cranberry muffins warmed up for you.”

Ivy left Jewel’s at two and started walking down the block to the drugstore, prepared to make amends for the stolen tube of lipstick before her mother came to pick her up. She spotted Evelyn Barton coming out of Barton’s Deli, looking older than she had the week before.

Ivy crossed the street and walked over to her as she was unlocking her car.

“Mrs. Barton?”

Evelyn turned around, wearing a puzzled look, and then one of recognition.

“I just wanted to say how sorry I am about Pete.” Ivy’s chin quivered with unexpected emotion.

Evelyn put her hand on Ivy’s shoulder and squeezed. “I know, honey. It must’ve been horrifying for you. I’m not sure I would have survived seeing—” Her voice caught in her throat.

Ivy couldn’t think of any comforting words to say. “I know Sheriff Carter is going to figure out who did it.”

“I hope so. But after ten years, we still don’t know what happened to Joe Hadley.”

Thank heavens you don’t
.

“I’ve been talking to Reg and Denny’s parents, and we want to hold a memorial service here in Jacob’s Ear for our sons—and for Joe. We’re still working out the details with the Hadleys, but it’ll probably be on Friday at the civic theatre. We’ve all been through the loss of our sons and need to draw strength from one another.”

Ivy stared at Pete’s clueless, grieving mother and thought the whole thing was just too bizarre.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Barton,” Ivy heard herself say. “I can’t imagine how awful you must feel.”

“Thanks, honey. My Pete was no angel, but he didn’t deserve this.”

“Of course he didn’t. If there’s anything I can do, please call me.”

Ivy held the car door for Evelyn, then crossed the street and hurried down to the drugstore. She spotted Harriett Barclay rearranging some hair care products on an end cap. She took a slow, deep breath, thinking she’d rather be doing almost anything else.

“Mrs. Barclay?”

Harriett turned around and held her gaze. “Yes, Ivy. What is it?”

Ivy reached in her purse and handed Harriett a ten-dollar bill. “I came to pay for the lipstick I took. I don’t know what made me do such a thing. I guess I was too proud to ask my folks for money until I got paid. I’m really sorry. It’ll never happen again.”

Harriett went over to the cash register. “Would you show me the lipstick so I can match the numbers when I ring it in?”

“Sure.” Ivy reached in her purse and handed the lipstick to Harriett.

“I hated telling your father about it. But this is a small business, and it’s not as though we can just write off these losses and never feel the impact.”

“I’m really not in the habit of doing this,” Ivy said.

“I sure hope not, young lady. Not everyone would be willing to let you pay for the stolen merchandise and not report it to the authorities.”

“I appreciate that. Like I said, it’ll never happen again.”

Harriett keyed in the numbers and rang up the purchase, then handed Ivy the change. “Next time you come in here, I trust it will be to
buy
something.”

“Definitely. Thank you.” Ivy put the change in her purse, aware that her face was hot and probably red, and pushed open the exit door.

She walked down the street feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted and stood on the sidewalk in front of Jewel’s Café, waiting for her mother. The north wind was nippy, and she put her hands in her pockets to warm them and felt a piece of paper. She took out an envelope that had her name on it and tore it open. Inside was an index card with words formed from letters that had been cut from a magazine.

Ivy stared at the words, her heart pounding, her skin feeling like gooseflesh. She looked up, feeling light-headed and slightly nauseated, and wondered if whoever left the note was watching her.