Everlasting

by Elizabeth Chandler

  “Suicide! It couldn’t be!”

  Bryan looked at her curiously.

  Ivy caught herself. She hadn’t told Bryan that she had contacted Alicia, and she needed to think it through before she did. “I—I guess I just can’t imagine doing that.”

  “They found her in the canal. Below the railroad bridge.”

  Ivy shut her eyes. Was she to blame for this? No, Alicia went jogging every night. She could have run into the wrong person on any given night.

  But the light Ivy had seen in the trees—should she have paid more attention? How do you tell a murderer from an innocent person walking a dog?

  “The railroad bridge,” Ivy repeated, the details starting to sink in. “The one suspended high over the canal? But that—” She caught herself again. It wasn’t anywhere near where Alicia had met them, but Bryan hadn’t told her where Alicia jogged. “It just seems impossible.”

  They were silent for a long time. Ivy gazed at the garden, watching a butterfly dance among the white phlox. “Her parents and her grandparents. I feel so sorry for them.”

  “I’m worried about Luke, how he’ll react if he hears about it.”

  “Do you think the police will try to link it to him?”

  “It would be convenient, wouldn’t it?” Bryan replied. “Another girl he was close to, dead. But I’m pretty sure her family doesn’t know she stayed in touch with him after they left River Gardens. So at least they won’t be pressing for it.”

  “When they tried to arrest Luke,” Ivy recalled, “I told the police that a girl at the carnival recognized him. But I didn’t know her name then.”

  “They might come around with a photo of Alicia and ask you if she was the one.”

  Ivy nodded.

  “Ivy, it would be better for Luke if they don’t make that connection.”

  “I know.”

  “Can you lie?” Bryan asked.

  In the last year, Ivy had told herself she was merely faking it to survive, and merely faking it to help “Luke,” but she had to face it, she was lying and getting good at it. “If I have to.”

  “If Luke hears about this, he may come back, even at his own risk,” Bryan added. “He’ll be really upset, probably at himself. If he returns, he’ll contact you. Just giving you a heads-up.”

  One way or another, Ivy thought, she might need Bryan’s help. She pulled out her cell phone. “Give me your number.”

  TRISTAN STARED AT IVY IN DISBELIEF.

  “Dead?”

  In the bell tower’s dim light, he saw Ivy blinking back tears.

  “How?”

  She told him in gulps. He didn’t know that he was crying until Ivy wiped the tears from his face.

  “I can’t believe it.”

  “I can’t believe it was suicide,” Ivy said, and buried her head in his shoulder.

  He listened to her breathe, felt the warmth of her body, reveled in her scent and closeness, and then felt guilty for rejoicing in the way Ivy was alive to him, while Alicia was dead. The sudden nearness of death made him cling to every physical sensation that meant life.

  “I’m late because Officer Donovan stopped by to show me a picture and ask if Alicia was the girl who recognized you at the Strawberry Festival.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I lied.” Ivy pulled back to look at him. “Tristan, did Alicia die because of us?”

  “No! How can you even think that?”

  “But what if the person who killed Corinne has been watching me? What if the killer needed to make sure that Luke never had an alibi? Last night, while you were talking to her, I saw a light. Someone was in the trees beyond the marshes, where I was standing. I told myself it was just somebody out on a walk.”

  “Of course. Why would you think any differently?”

  “It’s like Eric,” Ivy went on, her voice quivering. “Last year, when Eric asked me to meet him, he was going to tell me about Gregory—he was going to help me—and Gregory killed him before he could. It’s the same thing all over again.”

  Tristan felt her shiver. “What?” he asked, pulling Ivy close again.

  “It’s strange that they found her beneath the railroad bridge.”

  Tristan thought for a moment. “You mean because of Gregory’s . . . affection for trains and bridges. Would he have the strength to throw her off?”

  “The physical strength? I don’t know. Maybe not. It’s just creepy.”

  “How’s Beth?”

  Ivy told him about the amethyst. “She said the water wanted it, that she threw it ‘down to the water.’ Oh my God, I was thinking she meant the ocean. But what if she was at—”

  “The canal? There’s no way, Ivy,” he said. “With or without the pendant, Beth isn’t capable of killing.”

  “With Gregory inside her, she is capable of hurting. She put broken glass in my shoe.”

  Tristan stared at her. “You didn’t tell me that!”

  “And sometimes,” Ivy pressed on, “someone who means only to hurt or warn can go too far.”

  “Ivy, I want you to stay with me tonight.”

  “You know I can’t do that.”

  He held her by the shoulders. “You can if you choose to.”

  “And tomorrow night?” she asked. “And the night after that?” She shook her head. “We can hide from the police. And if there is someone who wants you dead, we can hide you from that person, too. But Gregory will find me wherever I am. Gregory isn’t stopped by walls.”

  “Ivy, if he’s gaining power over Beth—”

  “Then I had better deal with him now, before he gains any more.”

  Eighteen

  THE FEAR ON TRISTAN’S FACE WHEN IVY LEFT HIM that night stayed with her even after she turned out the living room light. Arriving home, she had been glad to find Dusty waiting for her on the cottage step. Given the cat’s increasing wariness around Beth, his willingness to curl up with Ivy on the living room sofa reassured her. Ivy clicked on a nightlight and fell asleep listening to Dusty’s heavy purr. But sleep opened the door to dreams, and each of her dreams ended the same way.

  She dreamed of Alicia, turning one last time to toss “Luke” a kiss before she disappeared into the darkness; of Will, driving off fast in his car, as he did the night he and Ivy had broken up—disappearing into the darkness; of Beth, yanking away the hand Ivy had reached for and slipping under a sea of darkness.

  Something in the darkness lay in wait for Ivy. Though she couldn’t see it, she sensed it moving, as if its secret motion riffled the air between them. It crept slowly toward her, draining all sound from the night; absolute silence signaled its nearness. It reached toward her.

  The pressure on her ribs was light at first, no more than a cat resting on her. The cat leaped off, and something came down hard on her chest. Jolted awake, Ivy opened her eyes. The small bit of light she saw immediately disappeared. Who’s there? she cried out, but as in a dream, she couldn’t make a sound. She felt the rough texture of the sofa’s weave and the crevice between its cushions pressing against the back of her arms, and she knew it wasn’t a dream. Then she tasted the dry fibers of a pillow being held against her nose and mouth. She couldn’t breathe!

  Terrified, Ivy clawed at the hands pushing the pillow against her face, then wrenched her head to one side, trying to get free of it. The pillow momentarily slipped, and Ivy gulped air, but the attacker came back at her, pressing down harder. The weight on Ivy’s chest increased, crushing her lungs, squeezing out her breath.

  Her arms still free, Ivy clawed at the weight on her chest. Realizing her attacker was kneeling on her, and feeling fabric give way to skin, she scratched wildly, digging her nails in deep. The attacker pulled back for a moment. Ivy couldn’t see the attacker’s face, but the dim nightlight caught the texture and swing of her hair.

  “Beth!” she gasped, and for a split second was too stunned to fight.

  The bruising weight had convinced her it was a guy. Even now Ivy’s mind refused to
believe it, and she reached up to push back the curtain of hair. As she caught hold of the soft strands, Beth’s hand grasped Ivy’s with brutal strength. Ivy stared up at the face of her friend: her eyes had grown completely black, her pupils unnaturally dilated. It was like looking into the abyss of hell. Gregory’s hell.

  Ivy started to fight again, struggling to push Beth off. Angels, help me, she prayed. Her arms began to tingle and the tingling rose to her skull. Her body ached for oxygen.

  Suddenly Beth fell backward, and the pillow was knocked away. Ivy arched her back, gasping for breath, then caved against the sofa cushions. A hand rested on her chest, rising and falling with each hard breath. When her breaths grew even, another hand gently pushed back the hair that had tumbled over her face. He leaned forward.

  “Will.” She began to cough.

  “Shh. Catch your breath.”

  “Ivy? Beth?” Dhanya called from upstairs. “Are you down there?”

  Will turned quickly and Ivy followed his glance toward Beth. She was slumped in a chair, eyes closed.

  “Are you okay?” he whispered to Ivy.

  She nodded. Physically she was fine.

  “Is everything all right?” Dhanya called down again, sounding uncertain.

  “Yes.” Ivy struggled to keep her voice from quavering. “Fine,” she replied and started to cough. Hearing Dhanya on the steps, Ivy rose from the sofa and hurried toward the kitchen. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Will pick up Beth and carry her toward the front door.

  Ivy met Dhanya at the bottom of the kitchen stairway. “Beth couldn’t sleep, that’s all.”

  “That doesn’t mean the rest of us have to stay awake!” Kelsey hollered from above.

  “Go back to bed,” Ivy said quietly to Dhanya. “I’ll keep Beth company.”

  “Something’s really wrong with her,” Dhanya said.

  “I know. I’ll stay with her. She’s almost asleep now. Go back to bed.”

  “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  Ivy wasn’t sure; inside she was still shaking. If Will hadn’t been there, she would have told Dhanya everything.

  “Yes. G’night.”

  Ivy returned to the living room, then slipped out the front door. Will had disappeared with Beth. For a minute Ivy didn’t know where to look, then a soft whistle drew her attention. She followed the path to the parking lot, glad Will was thinking more clearly than she, getting Beth away from the others.

  When Beth came to, would she remember anything? Would she try again? Ivy couldn’t get out of her head the moment of looking up and seeing Beth’s hair swinging down over her face. She couldn’t block out the dark hatred and misery she had seen in Beth’s eyes. It wasn’t Beth—but it was. Ivy’s rib cage still felt the pressure of Beth’s knees; her heart felt broken in two.

  When Ivy reached Will, she saw he had laid Beth in the grass beside his car. Ivy dropped to her knees next to him. “How is she?”

  “Breathing. Her pulse is normal. But she didn’t respond when I tried to wake her.”

  “We should take her to the ER.”

  Will glanced up at Ivy. “Who would we ask to see—an exorcist? Oh, God, Ivy! I didn’t believe you. You tried to tell me, and I wouldn’t believe it. I could hardly believe even when I was watching her try to kill you!” Trembling, Will reached for Ivy’s hands. “I’m so sorry.”

  Ivy rested her forehead against his.

  “God help me,” he said. “God help us.”

  For a few minutes they simply held onto each other, then Ivy spoke. “I keep telling myself that it was Gregory, not Beth, suffocating me.”

  Will shook his head. “At this point, what’s the difference?”

  “It makes a difference, Will, it has to! Gregory is in her mind, the way Tristan once slipped inside yours. He’s trying to take over, but we can still reach her.”

  “Tristan never controlled me like that.”

  “No,” Ivy admitted, “but Gregory doesn’t have complete control. He’s not stronger than the two of us, not yet.”

  Then she told him about the amethyst. “I’ve been thinking about it since the other night. When this started, whenever Beth would warn me that Gregory was back, she played with the necklace. I thought it was just a habit, but now I think the stone gave her the strength to fight him.”

  “Gave—you mean for a while, but no longer?”

  “It’s gone.” Ivy gazed down at Beth. “She told me that the water wanted the amethyst and she threw it down to it. Gregory must have figured out its power when I did.”

  “We can’t let him have her.”

  “He’s using her. It’s me he wants.”

  “He should have used me instead!” Will exclaimed. “He should have used anyone but Beth. She’s too gentle, too vulnerable—”

  “Which is why he chose her. When he first came back, his powers were weak. He is growing in strength, but together we are still stronger than him.”

  Will pressed his lips together as if he were struggling to believe in Ivy’s strand of hope.

  “When I needed you tonight, you came. How did you know to come, Will? Did Lacey tell you?”

  “Lacey’s still around?”

  Ivy nodded. “Philip kept in touch with her. I called to her when”—Ivy caught herself; telling Will about Tristan would needlessly confuse things—“when I first noticed something wasn’t right with Beth. I thought maybe Lacey called you to help me.”

  “No.” He sat back on the grass, leaning against his car. “I’ve been worried about Beth—you know that. At first I thought Chase was pushing her too hard, and that she found Kelsey and Dhanya annoying. And I told myself she was right to be mad at you, but deep down, I was afraid something more was going on.” He gazed at Beth, his brown eyes troubled. “At work, with guests, she was okay for a while, then I saw her withdrawing from them, too. Aunt Cindy noticed. She said she was worried about both of you.

  “When I was out tonight, I saw Beth walking toward the steps that go down to the beach. I followed her. She stopped at the top for a long time, her lips moving, saying nothing. When I called to her, she acted as if she couldn’t hear me. I stood next to her, but she wouldn’t look at me. I turned her toward me, then asked her who she was talking to.

  “‘The water,’ Beth said. I knew things had gone too far. It was already eleven o’clock, so I decided I’d talk to you tomorrow.

  “An hour later, I couldn’t sleep and heard an e-mail come in—Suzanne. She forwarded the e-mails Beth had sent her. After I read them, I ran to the cottage. I didn’t think about what I was doing—why I was running—I just had to find you and Beth.”

  Sheer luck? Ivy wondered. Too much had happened in her life to believe in sheer luck.

  “I guess everything I’d been denying suddenly became clear to me, including how I was putting both Beth and you in danger.”

  Ivy took Will’s hand and he squeezed hers hard. She rested her other hand in Beth’s open palm, then felt Beth’s fingers curl over hers. Ivy fought the urge to pull back and swallowed hard, as if she could keep the fear from rising in her.

  “Beth? Wake up,” Will said. “You’re with Ivy and me. You’re safe, Beth.”

  Her eyes opened. She clung to Ivy’s hand and stared up at Will.

  “Is he gone?” Will asked. “Did Gregory leave you?”

  Beth turned to Ivy without answering. Ivy saw the lighter ring of blue in her friend’s eyes; the darkness had lessened, but it had not disappeared. “He’s retreating,” Ivy said.

  “No, he’s resting and waiting.” Beth’s voice shook. “He’s winning.”

  “We won’t let him,” Will said.

  Beth lifted her hand and touched Ivy’s mouth. Ivy steeled herself—wouldn’t let herself shrink back.

  “Was it real?” Beth asked.

  “Was what real?” Ivy replied.

  Beth shuddered. “I wanted it to be a nightmare, but it wasn’t. I did it—I tried to suffocate you.”

  “Gregory
tried.”

  Beth sat up. “If you hadn’t been there to stop me,” she said to Will, “I would have killed her.”

  He put his arm around her.

  “Ivy, if ever I hurt you, I couldn’t live with myself!”

  “You’re not going to hurt me.”

  “When this started, I didn’t understand what was going on,” Beth continued. “If I had known enough to run away—”

  “No!” Ivy said sharply. “When Gregory was alive, his strategy was to isolate and control. Beth, think about it, think how he managed me . . . Suzanne . . . Eric. Don’t let him separate you from us. Our strength is in our love for one another.”

  Beth looked from one to the other. The color that had just come into her cheeks vanished again.

  “Lie down,” Ivy told her. “You’re exhausted.”

  Will put his arms around Beth and eased her back on the grass. He took off his shirt and laid it under her head, then stroked her cheek. His tenderness brought tears to Ivy’s eyes. She wiped them before he could notice.

  When Beth was peaceful again, Will gestured to Ivy and she followed him to a place beneath the trees, where they could keep an eye on Beth.

  “As long as Gregory is in her mind, you’re still in danger,” he said in a quiet voice. “And Beth’s not the only one who’s exhausted. Why don’t you go home for a few days, stay safe with your family, and get some rest.”

  Ivy shook her head. “We should stay together.”

  “And wait for this to happen again?” he argued.

  Ivy gazed at Beth, lying pale in the grass. How much more could her friend endure?

  If I left, Ivy wondered, would Gregory follow me and leave Beth alone? “Let me think about it,” she said aloud.

  Both Will and Ivy wanted to stay with Beth till morning. Will nudged Beth awake and helped her to her feet. “I’ll get blankets,” Ivy said.

  “We’ll meet you behind the dunes,” Will replied.

  Ten minutes later they spread them in a warm hollow between the bluff and dunes, about thirty feet from the steps, out of view from the inn. Ivy set her cell phone to awaken them for work. She hoped none of the inn’s guests would be out for a dawn stroll, but knew that “camping under the stars” would be more acceptable to Aunt Cindy than Will sleeping at the girls’ cottage or Beth staying in his room.