Ever Present Danger (39 page)

“Then it’s true. Ivy did see Buzz at that tavern with another woman?”

Brandon shrugged. “I don’t know about that. But I know he’s into some really dark stuff. Jake’s known about it a long time because he had a similar experience with Buzz, but he didn’t actually spell it out until this morning. I knew I had to talk to you and tell you everything. I can’t be around Buzz anymore.”

“And Maggie knows nothing about this?”

“Supposedly not. But I don’t see how she can be that naïve.
Buzz is hardly subtle about anything. I just don’t think it’s my place to run to Maggie with this.”

“Well, someone should.” Kelsey’s eyes welled. “I can’t believe you kept this from me. I thought we shared everything, and it makes me wonder what else you aren’t telling me.”

“Nothing. I promise.” Brandon put his hand on hers. “I’m sorry, honey. If I had seen where it was going, I would’ve put a stop to it much sooner.”

“I told you Buzz was trouble.”

“I know you did, and I should’ve listened.” Brandon thought back on Jake’s confession, grateful that he wasn’t facing Kelsey with something as awful as that. “Honey, I just need to know we’re okay and that you forgive me. I promise that from now on I won’t keep secrets from you. I realize that one of the best safeguards for me is to be open with you about everything so I won’t cross the line.”

Ivy Griffith sat on the front steps of the cabin, her eyes closed and her wrists and ankles bound, and tried to imagine Jesus sitting there with her. She was aware of Bill running the vacuum cleaner inside, the noonday sun warming her head, and pine trees scenting the chilly breeze.

She wondered if her parents thought she and Bill had run off together—or if the authorities had convinced them that she and Bill had planned the shooting and were on the run.

Lord, don’t let my parents give up on me
. Ivy had the most awful feeling that they might be so disappointed and angry that they wouldn’t even bother looking.

She heard the vacuum go off and felt the muscles in her neck tighten. A minute later Bill came outside and sat on the step next to her, much too close for her liking.

“All done,” he said. “The bedroom’s clean as a whistle, and it’s all yours.”

I’m not going in there!
“Why don’t you untie me so I can make us soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch? That’s a good way for me to start feeling at home.”

“I’m not sure your mind’s thinkin’ right yet.”

“I’d really like to cook for you.” Ivy turned to him. “Come on, Bill. We’ve got to start trusting each other.”

“It would be nice to have you enjoyin’ the kitchen. Can I trust you to behave?”

Bill stroked her arm, and her skin turned to gooseflesh. She forced herself not to recoil.

“Of course,” she said. “I don’t want to be tied up anymore. What kind of a partnership is that? You don’t want me to feel inferior, do you?”

“I never said you were inferior. I don’t think that.”

“Well, that’s what it feels like when you’re holding me here like a prisoner. If we’re ever going to start living like a couple, I need to be free.”

“You won’t run away?”

“No. Cross my heart. I just want to start feeling like the other half of this partnership. Let me start by fixing lunch for you.”

Bill studied her face for several seconds. “Okay, but if you try to run, I’ll have to tie you to the bed. I’m not losin’ you now—not after all I’ve done so we can be together.” Bill took his pocketknife and cut the ropes from her ankles and then her wrists.

“Thanks, that’s so much better.” Ivy looked out at the dense forest of pines and aspens and fought the impulse to make a run for it.

Carolyn Griffith looked up at the hawk soaring high above Woodlands Community Church as Elam pulled the Suburban into the parking lot. The bright blue sky was dotted with cloud puffs, and the gold cross on the steeple looked like a fireball in the morning sun.

“What are we supposed to tell Montana if Ivy’s not home by the time he gets out of school?” she said.

Elam reached over and took her hand. “The truth, honey. We don’t know why Ivy left, but we know she’s with Bill. All he needs
is to feel abandoned by his mother. I’m committed to not letting that happen.”

Carolyn shook her head. “I’ll never believe Ivy and Bill conspired to kill Pete, Reg, and Denny. I don’t care what that arrogant FBI agent said.”

“I’m not buying it either. Ivy’s no killer. And she sure didn’t prance back in here after ten years away and pull off a flawless triple homicide with less than a month to plan it. It’s total bunk. And I don’t believe she knows anything about Joe Hadley’s death either.”

Carolyn wiped a tear off her cheek. “I just wanted her to have a second chance to get her life together. I sure don’t believe she would abandon her child and run off with a guy she hardly knows.”

“I might’ve believed it five years ago, but not today. That girl is really trying. And Montana’s a great kid.” Elam smiled sheepishly as his gaze caught Carolyn’s. “Okay, so I said I wasn’t calling the boy by name till I was sure he was here to stay. What can I say? I’m fond of Montana. I like having a grandson, and I can’t imagine life without him now.”

“If Ivy’s run off, we’re the only relatives he’s got.”

“Ivy didn’t run off,” Elam said. “There has to be another explanation. Come on, let’s go inside and wait for Pastor Myers.”

Carolyn slid out of the SUV and walked up to the church entrance and pulled open the heavy wood door. She looked up at the familiar wall of stained glass behind the pulpit and wished she were here for the Sunday service instead of to beg God to bring Ivy back.

She stepped to the back pew and started to slide in when she spotted something. “Elam, look, that’s Ivy ski jacket! And her purse!”

Carolyn grabbed the jacket and went through the pockets and found nothing but a pair of gloves. She picked up the purse and found the missing photograph, and then dumped the contents and started sifting through it. “There’s nothing here to tell us where she went!”

Elam tugged at his mustache the way he always did when he was thinking intently about something. “Ivy must’ve gone out with Bill to confront him with the photograph. If she suspected him of being the shooter, there’s no way she left with him voluntarily.”

“What if he hurts her?” Carolyn started to cry. “How’d they even get in here on a Monday night?”

“Bill has the key to the church, honey. He has the cleaning contract, remember? My guess is they came here so they could talk privately. And it appears Bill didn’t like what he heard. Let’s pray he took Ivy to one of those cabins on his client list, so we might actually stand a chance of finding her before they leave the state. I’d better call Flint.” Elam took his cell phone off his belt clip and keyed in the numbers.

“This is Sheriff Carter.”

“Flint, it’s Elam. You’ll never guess what Carolyn and I just found.”

Ivy picked up the iron skillet and decided it was too heavy and bulky for her to hit Bill in the head with it. She rubbed the inside of the skillet with margarine, sensing he was watching her every move.

“It’s wonderful to be in the kitchen again.” She turned and flashed him a phony smile and began to slice the Velveeta for grilled cheese sandwiches.

A few seconds later, Bill came up behind her and put his arms around her, his chin resting on her shoulder. “I still can’t believe you’re mine, and we’re really going to be together. Sounds like you’re finally startin’ to think that way too.”

Ivy’s heart pounded so hard she could hardly catch her breath. She was all too aware of the risk she was taking by leading him to think she was ready to step into his sick make-believe world. What if she couldn’t figure out a way to escape? What if he determined it was time for her to put on that white dress he had told her about?

“Bill, while I’m getting lunch ready, why don’t you go see if you can get some music on that radio on the bookshelf?”

“Okay, good idea.”

As soon as he walked across the creaky floor to the other side of the room, she searched around the stove, not surprised that all sharp objects were missing but desperate to find something she could use as a weapon.

Flint Carter held the phone away from his ear and let Elam holler for a minute, and then put the phone to his ear again. “I know how upsetting this must be. But you don’t have any business being there if we find Ivy and Bill, whether she left willingly or was coerced. It could be dangerous.”

“I’m willing to take that risk,” Elam said.

“Well, I’m not. The best thing you and Carolyn can do now is go home and wait to hear from me. I’ll call you as soon as I know something. We have teams headed to both cabins, but we have no way of knowing whether they went to either of them. It’s just a hunch.”

“I never thought you’d turn on Ivy this way.”

Flint sighed. “Elam, I’m not turning on her. I’m just trying to get at the truth.”

“You can’t possibly believe Ivy conspired with Bill to kill Pete and those other boys.”

“For crying out loud, Elam. I want Ivy to be innocent as much as you do. But we still need to talk to her about the Joe Hadley case. We have every reason to believe that these two cases are related—and that Ivy knows who did the killing in both instances.”

“Don’t you think she would have told you if she knew anything?”

“This is not the time to get into this. I need to go find her. Stay put and I’ll call you when…Elam, you there?…Hello?…” Flint rolled his eyes and put his phone on his belt clip.

“I take it Mr. Griffith is steamed?” Nick Sanchez said.

“He’s pretty hot, all right. I suppose any father would be if he thought his daughter was getting railroaded.”

“And what do you think?”

Flint sighed. “I think I don’t really like my job at the moment.”

Ivy reached up to the spice rack and snatched two bottles and removed the dusty lids.

“What’re you doin’ over there?” Bill said.

“Oh, just adding some basil to the tomato soup.”

She quickly pulled off the inside plastic lid on the second bottle and loosened the contents with the stem of a spoon, then carefully tucked the open bottle into the waistband of her jeans and pulled her sweater down over it.

The radio came on with loud static, and Bill fooled with the dial until a news station came in with clarity.

“Tanner County Sheriff Flint Carter refused to comment on whether William Ziwicki and Ivy Griffith are under investigation for the murder of Peter Barton, Reginald Morrison, and Dennis Richards in last month’s shooting at the Phantom Hollow Lodge, but a source inside the sheriff’s department told KTNR News that due to the couple’s unexplained disappearance, they are now at the top of the suspect list.

“Officials are asking that anyone with information on the whereabouts of William Ziwicki or Ivy Griffith immediately contact the Tanner County Sheriff’s Department or the FBI…”

Ivy glanced over her shoulder to make sure the keys to the van were still on the table by the door. She put the lid on the soup and turned the flame down to low.
Okay, Lord, here goes
.

She carefully removed the open spice bottle from her waistband and concealed it in her fist, then walked over and stood facing Bill, her heart pounding so loudly she was afraid he could hear it above the radio.

“Lunch is almost ready,” she said.

Bill smiled and stroked her cheek. “Great. Guess you heard the feds are lookin’ for us. They’re wastin’ their time. Nobody knows about this place.”

Ivy held his gaze and tried to look pleasant. She would get only one chance to do this and couldn’t afford to miss. She silently counted to three, then flung ground cayenne pepper into Bill’s face.

He let out a shriek and started clawing at his eyes.

Ivy darted for the door, grabbed the keys off the table, and raced toward the van.

“What have you done to me?” Bill shouted as he stumbled after her. “Come back here! How could you betray me like this?”

Just as she got the van door open, Bill grabbed her arm and spun her around, his eyes inflamed and tearing. He tried to pry the keys from her fist. Ivy bit his finger with the ferocity of a pit bull, and he let go of her and shouted a string of curse words.

She climbed in the van and quickly locked the doors.

“I’ll find you, Ivy!” he shouted as he banged on the driver’s side window. “You belong to me! I love you! I’ve always loved you! We’re meant to be together! I’ll never let go of you! You’re mine!”

Ivy turned the key, and the van made an awful grinding noise. She pressed the accelerator and turned the key again and again, and then stopped when she smelled gasoline, afraid she had flooded it.

Lord, please help me! I don’t know what else to do
.

Bill slammed his fist against the window, his face red and blotchy and his eyes nearly swollen shut.

“Open the door, Ivy! Or I swear I’m going to break this window and drag you out of there!”

She took her foot off the accelerator and again turned the key. The van started. She backed it up and stopped abruptly, then shifted into drive and eased onto the gravel driveway.

Bill clutched the door handle and ranted like a madman.

“Let go of the door! I’m leaving!” she shouted.

“I’ll find you, Ivy! You can’t escape me! We were meant to be together!”

Ivy pressed the accelerator harder than she meant to, kicking up a shower of gravel and leaving Bill in a heap about thirty yards back.

His desperate, mournful pleadings could be heard all the way to the paved road, and then faded to silence as Ivy turned and raced down the mountain toward freedom.

CAROLYN GRIFFITH STOOD at the picture window in the living room, her eyes fixed on nothing, her heart praying without ceasing. She was suddenly aware of someone’s hand on her shoulder.