Ever Present Danger (11 page)

“You think I’m kidding?”

“Come on, Pete. We had a business arrangement. I used to make some
really
good buys for you guys.”

“You must have us mixed up with someone else.” Pete glanced around the booth, an eyebrow raised, the corners of his mouth twitching. “You guys know him?”

Reg and Denny shook their heads.

Bill put his palms flat on the table, leaned forward, and lowered his voice. “I used to buy you guys weed and angel dust. I put my neck on the line for you. There’s no way you don’t remember me.”

Pete folded his arms across his chest. “We just said we didn’t.”

“But they do,” Ivy said. “We all do.”

Bill’s face suddenly looked pinker than Ivy’s sweater. “I knew it! You let me sit with you at lunch a few times. You said I was your friend.”

“We lied,” Pete said. “We told every guy who bought us drugs that he was our friend.”

“But there wasn’t anybody else. I was your main man.”

“Okay, live with that illusion. Now maybe you could let us get back to our conversation?”

Bill backed away from the booth, his bushy eyebrows scrunched. “Yeah, you do that.” He went over to his table and sat, his jaw set, his hands wrapped around a Styrofoam cup.

Pete snickered. “Man, what a loser. Wait…” He put his hands to his forehead and closed his eyes. “It’s all coming back to me now…Icky Ziwicki, the walking zit.”

Reg and Denny chortled.

“Will you guys knock it off? He can hear you.” Ivy looked over at Bill and then at Pete. “Would it have killed you to be nice to him?”

“Why, because he bought us drugs? Come on, Ivy, the guy sucked up to us because he was a nobody who wanted to be a somebody. That’s the only reason he’d do something that demeaning.”

Yeah, well. He wasn’t the only one
. Ivy slid out of the booth. “I hate to be a party pooper, but I need to get home. Thanks for the latte, boys.”

“It was really good seeing you,” Denny said.

Reg nodded. “Yeah, it was fun catching up. See you at the class reunion?”

“Oh, she’ll be there,” Pete said. “I’ve already signed her up.” Ivy manufactured a smile and slipped on her ski jacket. “Well, there you have it. The mighty Pete Barton has spoken.”

She caught a glimpse of Bill Ziwicki’s face as she walked to the exit and decided it was a good thing that Sheriff Carter wasn’t around on Saturday. At that moment, she’d gladly spill everything she knew about what had happened to Joe Hadley.

SHERIFF FLINT CARTER sat in his office perusing Monday’s issue of the
Tri-County Courier
and sipping the to-go coffee he’d brought with him from Jewel’s.

“Mornin’, Sheriff.” Lieutenant Bobby Knolls came in and sat in the chair next to the desk. “How was your weekend?”

“Not bad. Hard to put the case out of my mind. So what’d the lab say?”

“The keys we found were Joe Hadley’s, all right—house and the family Impala. Probably were in his pocket when he was buried.” Bobby blew a pink bubble, then sucked it into his mouth and popped it. “We’ve covered a lot of ground near the scene, but everything we’ve found relates only to Joe Hadley: bones, class ring, keys. Whoever buried that kid sure didn’t leave any evidence behind.”

“Are you done looking?” Flint said.

“Give me another day or two. But my gut tells me we’ve found everything we’re gonna find.”

“How many people have you questioned so far?”

“About twenty, give or take.” Bobby looked up and shook his head. “Sheriff, this case is as cold as it was ten years ago. There’s no motive. It just doesn’t seem like Joe Hadley had any enemies. Everyone loved the kid.”

“Somebody didn’t.”

“I don’t think we can discount the possibility this
was
a serial killing.”

Flint looked out the window at the snowcapped San Juans on the other side of Phantom Hollow and took a sip of coffee. “I’m not. But the chance that a stranger could slip in and out of a town of five hundred—in the off-season, no less—without anyone noticing seems pretty remote.”

“Maybe there’s a serial killer livin’ here.”

“Then why hasn’t someone else gone missing?”

“Wish I knew the answer.”

Flint set his Styrofoam cup on the desk. “Me too, Bobby. But I’m going to get answers or die trying. I can’t spend another ten years addicted to this case.”

Ivy Griffith stood outside Rita Shepard’s first-grade classroom at Tanner County Elementary School and looked through the window in the door. Ian Carter was introducing Montana to the other kids as if he were a new toy.

Rita walked over to the door and stepped out into the hallway next to Ivy. “I think Montana’s going to be just fine.”

Ivy nodded. “Seems like it. I really want school to be a positive experience, especially with all the pressure he has at home.”

“I understand. I’ll do everything I can to make school fun. And from what I’ve seen so far, he won’t have any problem socially. How old is Montana?”

“He just turned seven last month.”

“He’s younger than about half these kids, but his vocabulary and social skills seem above average. Is there anything else I should know?”

Ivy hesitated and then said. “Yes. I’m a recovering drug addict. I’ve been clean for three years, and my friend Lu—Montana calls her Gramma Lu—was there for him when I wasn’t. He has a very special attachment to her. Also, there’s never been a father in the picture.”

“Thanks for being candid,” Rita said. “Knowing that will help
me be sensitive to Montana, especially while Lu is so ill.”

Ivy looked through the window again and saw Montana and two other boys working on what appeared to be a jigsaw puzzle.

“Don’t worry about him.” Rita reached for her hand and squeezed it, almost as a handshake. “I have a feeling he’s going to have a really good first day.”

Ivy smiled. “You’re probably right.”

She glanced in the classroom one last time, then walked down the long corridor and out of the building to her mother’s Jeep.

She drove several miles back to Three Peaks Camp and pulled up the long, steep driveway and parked out in front of her parents’ log home. She went inside and found her mother in the kitchen, pouring batter into the bread maker.

“So how’d it go?” Carolyn Griffith asked.

“Good. The other kids were practically fighting over who got to play with Montana next. I like his teacher a lot.”

“What a relief, eh?”

“Yeah, really. I want him to have a good experience this spring so he won’t balk at going back to school in the fall. I’m going to go check on Lu, okay?”

Ivy went upstairs and peeked in Lu’s room. She was sitting up in bed, her Bible open in her lap.

“Come in.”

“Don’t let me interrupt. I was just checking on you.”

Lu took off her reading glasses. “Come tell me about Montana’s first day at school.”

Ivy went over and sat on the side of the bed. “So far so good. His teacher’s a doll, and he seemed to fit right in with the other kids. He was so busy when I left he didn’t even look up. I have a feeling he’s going to love it there.”

“That’s so good. I prayed it would go well.” Lu seemed to be pondering something for a few moments, and then caught Ivy’s gaze and held it. “There’s something I need you to do for me. Your parents had a talk with their pastor, and he’s offered me a burial plot at Woodlands Community Church cemetery. I need you to go pick out a casket. I’m not fussy—the least expensive one you
can find. There should be enough in my account to cover the cost.”

“I can’t—” Ivy put her fist to her mouth, surprised at the surge of emotion that had stolen her words.

Lu combed through Ivy’s hair with her fingers. “The cemetery will be a comforting place to come when you feel the need to talk to me—or when Montana does. It’s important to me that you’re comfortable with it.”

“What about a headstone?”

“A simple wooden cross will do fine.”

Because you don’t have any more money
, Ivy thought.

“As soon as everything’s arranged, I’d like to ride out there and see it with you.”

“I hate talking about this!”

“I know, but we have to. I’m getting worse. I need your help to get these details finalized while I still feel up to it. The more we talk about it, the easier it will be. I’ve already talked to Pastor Myers about the graveside service.”

Ivy put her hands over her ears. “Lu, I can’t handle this.”

Seconds passed, then Lu gently took her arm and pulled it down. “Pastor Myers says it’s a beautiful spot. Either your parents are big tithers, or the pastor is a very compassionate soul. I’m guessing a little of both.”

“It’s not like he’s handing you the moon. It’s just a plot in his churchyard cemetery.”

“Pretty nice since I’m not a member. And you’d be surprised what a plot would cost if we had to go looking. This is a gift.”

Ivy sighed. “You deserve better than a wooden cross to mark your grave.”

“It’s enough. If it bothers you, plant some flowers—maybe some alyssum. They’re easy.”

“I’m not going to handle this well.”

“Yes, you are. You’re braver than you think.”

“You keep saying that. I’m not.”

Lu’s deep brown eyes grew wide. “You kicked a cocaine habit, no? And you came back here to make peace with the past, which
will probably mean going to jail and being separated from your son for a while. And now you’re preparing to bury your closest friend. If that doesn’t take courage, I don’t what does.”

Ivy wiped away a tear trickling down her cheek. “You always see something in me I can’t find. How do you do that?”

“It’s easy. When I look at you, I see light under the door.”

“What does
that
mean?”

Lu just smiled.

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“No. But you’ll feel me smiling in heaven when you figure it out.”

Brandon Jones walked down the main hall of the administrative offices of Three Peaks Christian Camp and Conference Center and knocked on Jake Compton’s open door.

“Come in,” Jake said.

Brandon went in and sat in the blue cushy chair he had threatened to take home with him because it was so comfortable. “Did you and Suzanne have a nice weekend?”

Jake nodded, his eyes fixed on the newspaper. “Yeah, we did. Have you been following the murder investigation? The
Courier
is usually pretty folksy, but this discovery of the kid’s bones is big news.”

“Yeah, I guess the dead kid was in Ivy Griffith’s graduating class.”

“That’s what Elam said.” Jake folded the newspaper and pushed it aside, then got up and closed the door and sat in the chair next to Brandon. “I came in Saturday to tie up a few loose ends. My computer was messing up so I used yours. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

Jake linked his fingers together. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“About what?”

“You still hanging around Buzz Easton?”

“I rode down to Durango with him on Friday and helped him paint the inside of his new souvenir shop. Is that a problem?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

Brandon studied Jake’s face and decided he looked angry. “Is this about my being with Buzz? Because I was under the impression that what I did in my free time was my business.”

“There’s pornography on your computer, Brandon. That makes it my business.”

Brandon felt his face get hot and the words seemed to be stuck in his throat. Finally he said, “What specifically are you talking about?”

“I accidentally deleted an e-mail message I meant to forward to myself. And when I got into your delete box to retrieve it, I saw an e-mail from Buzz. I opened it and saw the porn link.”

“You opened my e-mail?” Brandon said. “For crying out loud, Jake!”

“Look, I know a lot more about Buzz than you do. I tried to warn you to stay away from him.”

“Just what is it you know that I’m in the dark about?”

Jake folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

“Is he wanted by the law or something?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“All this talking in circles doesn’t help me!” Brandon sat for a few moments until he could talk without sounding mad. “I don’t know what’s going through your mind, Jake. But the second I got that e-mail from Buzz, I called him and told him never to send me anything like that again, and that having stuff like that on my computer could threaten my job.”

“Has it happened before?”

“Absolutely not. Look, if I had anything to hide, don’t you think I would’ve made sure that e-mail was deleted from the delete box?”

Jake exhaled. He got up and leaned against his desk, his hands in his pockets. “I’m not questioning your integrity, Brandon. I think you’re a great guy. I’d like to see you stay that way. It’s Buzz I don’t trust.”

“Okay. But do you think this is the first time in my life someone who likes porn has tried to get me interested? It’s not like I can’t say no.”

“Did you tell Kelsey?”

“She doesn’t like Buzz. I didn’t see the point in upsetting her.”

“I wish you’d tell her.”

“Why?”

“Just as a safeguard—a way to be accountable.”

“Accountable for what? I haven’t done anything.”

Jake turned and held his gaze. “Bad company corrupts good character, Brandon. Buzz is a bad apple.”

“He just needs the Lord. How is he going to hear the Good News if Christian guys aren’t willing to befriend him? So he’s rough around the edges…I’m a big boy. It’s not like I’m going to let him take me down a wrong path.”

“All right,” Jake said. “Have it your way. But you’d better be darned sure it’s the Lord prodding you to spend time with Buzz and not just your passion for white-water rafting.”