“Didn’t think so. But he is the cheating type,” Dhanya remarked. “Do you know who the fastener belonged to?”
Ivy shook her head. “I was just yanking his chain,” she said, and began the long trudge across the sand.
Dhanya and anyone else who had been watching the charade would have seen nothing but Bryan playing a dating game. Ivy saw a murderer who didn’t mind ripping people’s hearts out, then tossing them like broken shells into the sea.
Five
WHEN IVY, WILL, AND BETH ARRIVED AT THE PARTY Saturday night, it was in full swing. Ivy could barely squeeze her VW onto Max’s front lawn. She had offered to drive that evening, and Beth had quickly chosen the front seat. Perhaps she’d sensed Ivy’s need to follow the same route as they had the night of their accident and drive past the spot without getting spooked.
Now, with the first challenge on her list checked off successfully, Ivy walked with her friends around the side of the Moyers’ house, following the blazing tiki lamps and the pulsing music of the party. Will whistled with soft amazement as he took in the place and its panoramic view. Max’s waterfront home was an elongated rectangle. With upper and lower decks running the length of the building, and its white rails and round lights, it reminded Ivy of a cruise ship run aground. But the thing Ivy had most hoped to see was missing.
“There’s no dock.”
“Well, aren’t we being picky!” Will teased.
Following Will and Beth, Ivy climbed a set of exterior steps up to the lower deck. The party was spread across it and filled the rooms that faced it. Leaving Will and Beth playing ping-pong in the first room, which also had billiards and a Wii, Ivy wove through the crowd to the deck again. On a night like this, she thought, Bryan had slipped off to murder Luke.
“Ivy! You came!” Max called to her from his perch on the railing ten feet away. “I was afraid you’d changed your mind.”
She smiled and joined him.
“Did you try some of the games?” he asked. “There’s an electronic and pinball arcade in the next room. And a 3-D movie showing in the theater, next to the kitchen.”
“Actually, I wanted to walk down to your beach,” Ivy told him.
At the moment only two small boats were moored offshore, bobbing in the moonlight. Where was the rest of Max’s fleet?
“Want company?” Max leaped lightly to the deck. After snagging two sodas, they walked in a comfortable silence along a wood-chip path. The Moyers’ land eased down to the sea, and partygoers were scattered across a series of landscaped terraces.
If Bryan had left with Luke from here, wouldn’t there be witnesses? Ivy thought. Two people leaving and just one coming back—someone had to have noticed.
“So those boats are yours?” she asked aloud.
“The sailboat belongs to a friend of my dad’s. We use the little powerboat like a taxi. Our other boats are at the marina by the causeway, where they’re better protected.”
Protected from more than storms, Ivy thought, disappointed. But maybe marinas had security cameras.
“When I take you out, we can use whichever boat you want,” he added.
“About how long would it take to sail from the marina to Lighthouse Beach?” she asked.
Max turned to look at her curiously. “That’s where you want to go?”
It was where “Luke” had washed ashore. Ivy searched for an excuse. “Aren’t there some seals there?”
“More in the winter. But we can go if you want, down to Monomoy and up along South Beach toward the lighthouse.”
“Great! Is it far? How long would it take to get there, to the lighthouse?”
“Motoring rather than sailing, an hour.”
A two-hour round trip for Bryan, she thought. And much longer if she added in the struggle and the disposal of the body, plus the cleanup back at the marina. Wouldn’t Max have noticed that his close friend was missing for a long time?
“I’m free Monday,” he offered.
“That would be great!”
As they walked the beach, Max told Ivy of the different places he had sailed.
“Do you ever boat after dark?” she asked.
“Sometimes with Bryan. He likes night fishing, but you’ve got to be really alert when sailing at night.”
Ivy figured Bryan had been very alert, watching everything Max did to learn how to handle a boat under the cover of darkness.
They started up the path toward the house. Two people sprawled on the lawn called out to Max. “Awesome party!” But a foursome passed them on the path without even looking at him.
“Max, do you actually know everybody here?”
He laughed and took a swig of soda. “I don’t think half of them know I’m the guy having the party. Sometimes I get tired of the noise and leave, and they just rock on.”
“When Beth and I were in the accident, were you at your party?”
Max’s back straightened—the question had caught him off guard. “Yeah. I was around.”
“Was Bryan?”
Max glanced about. Looking to see if anyone else was within earshot? Ivy wondered. Perhaps thinking through his response and searching for words that didn’t incriminate.
“The police interviewed a lot of people from your party,” she went on. “I read the detailed report.”
Max’s quick blink told her that he believed her fib—he thought she knew who was present during the police investigation. He glanced away. “Bryan wasn’t here right then,” he confessed.
“With all these guests, how do you know?”
“Because . . . I looked for him.”
“So, Bryan also leaves your parties sometimes. Does he borrow your car and ride around? Or your boat?”
Max took his time answering. “I think we’d run out of ice and he went to get it.”
Bryan would have been absent from the party a lot longer than it took to get ice, Ivy figured. Was Max ignorant of that or covering for him?
She pushed further: “Did he go by car or boat? I suppose the marina sells ice, so he could have taken your little taxi.”
“I don’t really remember, Ivy. I—I was drinking a lot that night.”
They walked the rest of the way in an uneasy silence. When someone called out to them from a dark bench along the path, Max jumped.
“Hey, Chase,” Ivy answered, and heard Max let his breath out slowly. Following Max’s eyes to the deck above them, she saw Bryan sitting on the rail, watching them.
Max shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I better check on things.”
“Sure. Catch you later,” Ivy said, hoping she hadn’t put Max in danger. She turned toward Chase.
He was alone, sitting on the bench with his legs sprawling and arms draped over the back, looking looser than she’d ever seen him. Sitting down, Ivy could smell the alcohol—something stronger than beer, she thought. An empty cup was tipped over under the bench; Chase was swirling the contents of a second cup.
“Having a good time?” he asked Ivy, and took a noisy sip. “Who’d you come with tonight?”
“Beth and Will.”
“Couldn’t get a date?”
Ivy laughed lightly at his assumption. “Didn’t want one.”
“B’cause you’re still pining over . . . what’s-his-name,” Chase guessed. “The guy who likes to murder his old girlfriends.”
Ivy prickled. “If you’re referring to Luke, he was accused of murdering a former girlfriend.”
“Accused,” Chase echoed mockingly. “Obviously, you’re still pining.”
“No.”
Chase tried to raise an eyebrow, but his sharp good looks had gone mushy with alcohol.
“Luke isn’t the person I thought he was.”
“Even so,” Chase said, “girls like dangerous guys. They get a thrill from trying to tame them.”
“Not this girl,” Ivy answered.
“Where is he?” His question sounded more like a demand.
“I don’t know.”
“Where d
o you think he is?” Chase persisted.
Ivy leaned forward and looked into Chase’s eyes. “Nowhere nearby, if he has half a brain.”
“But nowhere far away,” Chase countered. “Not if you sank your hooks into him.”
Ivy sat back. “Whatever. I’m leaving that mystery for the police to solve.”
“What mystery is that?”
Bryan’s deep voice startled Ivy. Crossing the grass behind them, rather than taking the path, he had probably hoped to rattle her.
“Hey, Bryan,” she said as casually as possible.
His hands grasped the back of the bench, and he bent forward, towering over their heads. “So what mystery are you two trying to solve?”
“Chase is the one who’s trying,” she replied.
“Where your old friend is hiding out,” Chase said. “What do you think?”
“Luke? He’s not my friend anymore.”
“I guess not”—Chase grinned—“now that you’ve ratted on him!”
“He was once a close friend,” Bryan continued calmly. “So I don’t want to know where he is. I don’t want to be tempted to report him.”
It chilled Ivy, how sincere Bryan appeared, playing the role of a guy torn between an old friendship and civic responsibility.
“I wonder if there’s a reward being offered,” Chase said.
Ivy looked up and saw the slight widening of Bryan’s eyes. He laid a firm hand on Chase’s shoulder. “If I were you, I’d steer clear of it all.” The tone of his advice bordered on menacing. “Some people will do anything not to get caught.” Then Bryan laughed loudly, and Chase laughed along with him.
“Where’s Kelsey?” Ivy asked.
“Who knows?” Bryan replied. “Guzzling down drinks somewhere.”
Ivy rose to her feet, glad that Kelsey wasn’t clinging to Bryan, but uncomfortable not knowing where she was.
Returning to the house, she scanned the deck and both game rooms, slipped inside the darkened theater, then checked the kitchen. No Kelsey. She exited again through the kitchen’s sliding doors. The final illuminated room along the deck was striking. Its glass shelves and black lacquered wood gleamed, the furniture reflecting off a highly polished black-and-white marble floor. An assortment of colored glass on the fireplace mantel drew Ivy’s attention, and she didn’t see Kelsey at first. Then, spotting her curled low in the corner of a sectional, Ivy quickly slid open the screen.
“You okay?” she asked, hurrying to her. Kelsey’s red mane was partly over her face. Ivy brushed it back. “Kelsey, are you okay?”
Kelsey rubbed her temples and squinted up at Ivy.
“A bad headache?” Ivy asked.
Kelsey nodded, shutting her eyes for a moment.
“How’s your stomach?”
“Queasy. I think this is what happens to my mother when she gets migraines.”
“What did you have to drink?”
“A margarita. One! Don’t preach.”
“Okay. So what can I do?”
“Would you take me home?”
“You are sick!” Ivy said, resting her hand gently on Kelsey’s shoulder.
She quickly texted Beth, Will, and Dhanya to tell them she was taking Kelsey back and would return later for them. She didn’t want them to hitch a ride with Chase or Bryan. Then she helped Kelsey to her feet. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
A shadow in the doorway stopped them. “Where are you going?”
Ivy glanced over her shoulder at Bryan. “Kelsey’s not feeling well.”
“What a surprise,” he responded dryly. He strode across the room to them and roughly turned Kelsey’s face toward him. Ivy wanted to shove him away, but she knew better than to take any action that might set off him—or Kelsey.
“You drink too much,” he said. “You’re out of control.”
Kelsey pulled away from him. “But I didn’t, not tonight.”
“Come on,” Ivy said to her roommate. “I’m taking you home.”
Bryan placed a restraining hand on Ivy’s forearm. “I’ll take her.”
“I’m headed there anyway,” Ivy replied, and removed his hand. She wasn’t about to let him drive off with another girl whom he feared was beyond his control.
Bryan wedged himself between Ivy and her roommate. “Well, Kelsey, if that’s what you want,” he goaded her. “Kate’s here—you remember her, Max’s neighbor. And hot little Sophie. I won’t be bored.”
“I’m sure you won’t,” Kelsey answered dully.
Bryan shot Ivy a suspicious look, as if she was to blame for his inability to stoke Kelsey’s jealousy.
“I don’t know where my purse is,” Kelsey said to Ivy, looking and sounding helpless.
“No problem,” Bryan answered quickly. “Ivy and I will look for it.”
Before Ivy could step away, Bryan grabbed her. She could feel the pressure of each finger on her arm as he forced her to walk with him to the hall, then dragged her into the room across it, a home office. He backed her into a filing cabinet.
“We had a deal.”
“A deal I’ve kept,” Ivy said.
“Then what’s gotten into her?”
Ivy shrugged. “Sometimes people just get sick.”
“No, there’s more to it.” Bryan peered into Ivy’s face, his own face so close she could smell the beer he’d consumed.
“Don’t blow it now, Bryan. You were pretty smooth with Chase.”
“Interfering moron!”
“Don’t crack the first time your girlfriend goes moody on you,” she said. “I thought you were cooler than that.”
Bryan pulled back but kept his eyes locked on hers. “If you’re lying, I’ll find out.”
“I know you will—that’s why I don’t. Now let me get Kelsey home before she throws up.”
Ivy ducked past him and, to her relief, saw Beth and Will hurrying down the hall toward her. At the same time a text came back from Dhanya: CHASE IS ACTING OBNOXIOUS. WAIT FOR ME. GOT K’S PURSE W/ MINE.
The five of them rode home silently. When Dhanya and Beth took Kelsey up to bed, Will lingered on the doorstep to ask Ivy if she was okay, then headed to his room.
Ivy’s mind was too full of things to be sorted for her to join the others inside. And she was anxious for her roommates to go to bed so she could slip away to Tristan’s. She sat on the swing for a few minutes, rocking back and forth, then pushed off from the bench and walked the path through the inn’s large garden. Tonight, in the moonlight, the yard was a shimmering silk screen in black and white.
The cottage door opened and Beth emerged.
“How’s Kelsey?”
“Not great, but not getting any worse.”
Beth joined her in the center of the garden. “Ivy,” she said, “when Gregory was taking over my mind, I had headaches like that.”
Ivy nodded. “And Chase had the same kind two nights ago at the ice rink.”
“You think it’s Gregory trying out different hosts?”
“I don’t know.” With one finger, Ivy riffled the delicate blossoms of a tall cleome. “I’m surprised that Gregory would try to possess either of them, when there are easier targets available.”
“Like Dhanya or Max,” Beth said. “I’ve been wondering about that too. I can’t get a good read of Max—there’s something about the way he looks at me. . . .” Beth shrugged. “But I think, for Gregory’s purposes, Dhanya may be too easy a host. She’s susceptible to anyone who tells her what to do, which makes it hard if you want to be the only person calling the shots. And Gregory does.”
“I never thought of it that way.”
They continued along the path through the garden. “Chase may not seem like an ideal candidate, and he would fight Gregory at first,” Beth conceded. “But Chase is needy and ambitious. Needy people are always vulnerable to others. And ambitious people can be seduced, because they want something they don’t have.”
“Gregory would know how to play that combination,” Ivy agreed qui
etly.
Reaching the inn, they circled around the edge of the garden. Beth stopped at the trellis of moonflowers, reaching with her hand to cup a fragrant blossom. Ivy knew the vine was Beth’s favorite, for the poetic reason that its large white flowers began to bloom at dusk, when the rest of the garden was fading.
Beth leaned close to Ivy and lowered her voice. “Tristan’s nearby, isn’t he.” It was spoken as a statement rather than a question. “And you have some reason for not telling Will and me where.”
Ivy debated once more what was best for them. “Knowledge is dangerous, Beth.”
“But we can help you,” she insisted, “if you would only let us.”
Ivy shook her head. “Not yet. I know you’ll be there for me the moment I ask.” Ivy hoped she would never have to ask; her friends had been through enough.
“Will and I were talking about you tonight,” Beth said. “We want you to wear my amethyst. It helped me; maybe it will help you.” She reached back with one hand and slid the delicate chain until she caught the fastener, then unlatched it. “Turn around.”
Ivy did and felt the small weight of the pendant against her chest. Her eyes pricked with unexpected tears. Will and Ivy’s gift to Beth, a sign of their love, had become Will and Beth’s gift to Ivy.
Beth turned Ivy gently by the shoulders. “There. Looks good.” Beth smiled into Ivy’s eyes. For a moment Ivy felt the peace that comes only in the presence of a friend who can read your heart.
“I’m headed to bed,” Beth said. “Tell Tristan that Will and I send our love.”
Six
IVY DIDN’T CALL TRISTAN UNTIL SHE REACHED THE intersection of Cockle Shell Road and Nauset Heights. “Hey,” she said, “did I wake you up?”
“No. I was just about to start Lacey’s movie.”
Ivy smiled. “Keep the volume down, or you might not hear me whistling for Billy Bigelow.”
“You’re coming?”
The joy in his voice went straight to her heart.
“Yes, by foot. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
A kayak trip, a half mile across Nauset Harbor rather than the two miles by land, would have been much faster, but having used that mode twice before, Ivy didn’t want to attract attention with another middle-of-the-night paddle. Carrying a backpack stuffed with supplies, she walked briskly, following a roundabout route through tree-lined streets to the other side of the harbor.
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