Everlasting Read Free Page A

a flicker of sympathy, then he threw his wet sponge at Kelsey, who had been watching them with a jealous pout.
    “Why would I want to hear from a murderer?” Ivy asked, dropping her sponge in the bucket, picking up the hose.
    “Because to you,” Bryan replied, “he wasn’t a murderer.”
    “I was totally taken in. I acted like a fool.”
    Bryan studied her until she looked away. “We all make mistakes, Ivy. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”
    “That’s exactly what I’ve been telling her,” Kelsey interjected. “So how many hot hockey players am I going to meet tonight?”
    Bryan turned to Kelsey. “You already know one,” he replied, smiling. “But if I’m not too busy with some of thegirls coming from Boston, how about I introduce you to my teammates?”
    “I’m counting on it. I have a few questions to ask them about you.”
    They teased on. Max attempted without success to get Dhanya to talk about the novel she was reading; if he had looked a little harder at its cover, he might have realized it was a steamy romance. Ivy finished up the car as soon as she could and drove it back to the inn’s lot.
    It was tempting to continue on to Nickerson State Park, where she thought Tristan might be hiding, but she couldn’t chance it. Four times in the last seven days, the police officers who had tried to arrest Tristan had phoned Ivy. Twice, the woman officer, in plainclothes and an unmarked car, had stopped by the inn, saying she was just “touching base.” Ivy couldn’t go anywhere without feeling as if someone was watching her. A week ago the police had guessed correctly that “Luke” would return to her; it made sense that they would keep an eye on her for a while longer.
    When you love someone and want to be with him, Ivy thought, patience was a lot harder than courage. Taking a risk was easy compared to waiting and not knowing. If she were risking only her safety, she’d be searching for him now. Tristan, be safe, she prayed as she walked toward the cottage.
    It was quiet when she entered the small, shingled building. “Beth? Are you home?”
    Receiving no reply, Ivy headed to the kitchen, directly behind the living room, and fixed a glass of iced tea, which she carried toward the steps. The old cottage had a central hearth with steep steps built against the chimney, rising from the kitchen to the second floor. As Ivy started up the stairway, Beth rushed down, moving so quickly that Ivy had to flatten herself against the wall to avoid being bowled over.
    “Beth!”
    The cold drink sloshed over Ivy’s hand and onto Beth’s shoulder as she passed, but Beth kept going, hurrying across the kitchen and out the back door. Ivy stared after her. If she hadn’t glimpsed Beth’s face, she would have guessed it was fear driving away her friend. But Ivy had seen the intense anger, and it was Ivy who felt afraid—worried that Gregory was slowly driving Beth insane.
    After wiping up the tea, Ivy continued to the cottage’s second floor, one large bedroom with a small bathroom across from the central chimney. A bed occupied each corner, Dhanya’s and Kelsey’s beds under the sloping roof to the right, Ivy’s and Beth’s to the left. Ivy sniffed for burnt candles, then glanced toward Dhanya’s bed, under which the Ouija board was kept, but there was no indication that Beth had consulted it again.
    Retrieving a clean T-shirt, Ivy was surprised to find the contents of her bureau drawer in disarray. Shrugging offthe suspicion that someone else had been sorting through her things, she changed clothes and carried her music bag to her bed. She kicked off her flip-flops, then slipped on the shoes she wore for piano.
    Needles of pain pierced the sole of Ivy’s foot. Her right knee gave way. Dropping down on her bed, she yanked off her shoe. For a moment she just stared at the underside of her foot, the skin glistening with dark blood and splinters of glass. It shocked her, seeing this again. Last summer,