Everlasting

  Inching along in the Saturday afternoon traffic, it was taking forever just to get back on the Cape.

  “Does it seem odd to you,” Tristan asked, “that the kinds of places Beth was interested in would be mobbed this time of year? I mean, do they seem like places she’d like?”

  Ivy had been thinking about that. “If she was still writing, yes. Beth loved to sit and watch people—it gave her ideas. But the presence of Gregory has blocked her writing and has made her withdraw from almost everything around her. So it scares me a little. I keep wondering what Gregory is planning.”

  Ivy beat her hands lightly on the steering wheel, frustrated by the traffic ahead. “Do me a favor, grab my phone and text Suzanne,” she said, then glanced at the dashboard clock. “It’s two thirty here—eight thirty in Italy. Maybe she’ll be checking messages between forks of pasta. See if she’s heard from Beth.”

  At last they crossed the bridge high above the Cape Cod Canal. Out of the corner of her eye, Ivy saw Tristan looking to the right, toward the train bridge.

  “It’s an awesome bridge,” she said, “but even before Alicia died there, I found it kind of spooky.”

  A tower rose up at each end of the railroad bridge, its metal fretwork topped by a square house-like structure with a cone-shaped “roof,” these two tall steel points dominating the outline of the bridge. The bridge itself, its horizontal span, was suspended far above the canal, just beneath the gothic-looking towers, and was lowered only when a train crossed.

  “I can’t imagine what she felt, being up on that bridge,” Tristan said.

  “I prayed that she didn’t feel anything, that she was drugged by then and didn’t know where she was.”

  They touched down on the other side of the canal and soon after entered a traffic circle.

  “I hate this rotary,” Ivy said. “Which spoke takes us to Woods Hole?”

  “I don’t know—I can’t read all the signs fast enough. Just keep circling till we’re sure.”

  They circled twice.

  “There! Route 28 South,” said a voice from the backseat.

  Surprised, Ivy glanced at Lacey through the rearview mirror, then made a quick exit, drawing a loud blast of a horn from the guy she had just cut off.

  Lacey quickly lowered her window and hung out of it. Ivy couldn’t see what gesture she made to the unhappy motorist, but she was pretty sure he didn’t appreciate it.

  “Thanks for the tip, Lacey,” Tristan said, “but it’s better not to encourage road rage.”

  “Me?” Lacey replied. “Talk to the one who’s driving.”

  Ivy smiled.

  “Why are we going to Woods Hole?” Lacey asked. “You two taking off for the islands?”

  “We’re looking for Beth,” Tristan replied.

  “The radio has disappeared? Does she have the amethyst with her?” Lacey asked.

  “Will said it’s gone but—” Ivy’s voice trailed off.

  “But you don’t know if she took it with her,” Lacey said, “or if Gregory convinced her to throw it away again.”

  Ivy nodded, and Tristan related where the others were searching. “It’s all that we have to go on, Lacey. Can you find her?”

  “What do you mean, find her?”

  “Use your powers and tell us where she is.”

  “What d’you think I am, all-seeing? I can locate people only when they ask for me—I trace it kind of like a phone call. But without a signal from Beth, the best I can do is guess, just like you.”

  “All right,” Ivy said, “what are some guesses?”

  “As it happens,” Lacey continued, “Beth called me yesterday.”

  Ivy braked in response and quickly pulled onto the shoulder of the road. A car blew by, horn blaring. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about me; I’m already dead.”

  Ivy and Tristan turned toward the back seat. “What happened yesterday?” Tristan asked.

  “Beth was, like, really upset, her eyes kind of wild, though they had a lot of blue in them.”

  “So she was still stronger than Gregory,” Ivy said hopefully.

  “She was clutching the amethyst.”

  “That’s good,” Tristan said.

  “She had a lot of questions, more than I’ve ever thought of. I knew the answer to only one,” Lacey added, then suddenly lowered her head.

  “What was the question?” Tristan asked.

  Lacey chewed on a purple fingernail. “Same question you had,” she said to Ivy, “how a demon is expelled from the world.”

  “The person occupied by the demon has to die,” Ivy replied slowly, then recalled Beth’s words—Ivy, if ever I hurt you, I couldn’t live with myself! “Oh, God! She’s going to kill herself.”

  “It never occurred to me!” Lacey said quickly, defensively. “When she asked me—I mean, if I had suspected for one moment—if I’d had any idea—”

  “It’s all right, Lacey,” Ivy replied. “It didn’t occur to me either.”

  “But won’t Gregory stop Beth to save his own neck?” Tristan asked.

  Lacey chipped nervously at her fingernail. “Depends. I don’t think demons know any more than angels do, when they first come back. So Gregory might not realize how things work. But if he does, and if he figures out what she’s up to, he’ll cut out and leave her to die.”

  Oh angels, protect her! Ivy prayed. Angels, help us find her.

  “I’ll make some inquiries,” Lacey said. “Maybe someone will know where Gregory is. He’ll stand out more.”

  After Lacey departed, Ivy drove to Woods Hole as fast as the traffic would allow. There were five different lots for ferry parking. She and Tristan toured row after row of cars looking for the one Beth borrowed. At first, Ivy’s heart quickened each time she spotted a silver Toyota. But by the time they reached the third parking lot, a dull feeling had set in. She’d see a silver car and tell herself “that won’t be it,” guarding against disappointment. Repeated disappointment gave way to desperation. When they reached the final lot, every car that looked like Will’s made her angry. “What difference does this make?” she cried to Tristan. “So we find it and it’s empty, where do we go then?”

  Tristan put his arm around her. “Do you think this could be a decoy? Beth knows that you and Will would start searching for her as soon as she was missing. Could she have gone to these websites deliberately, to keep you from guessing where she is and what she’s planning? Maybe she is trying to fool us as well as Gregory.”

  Tears ran down Ivy’s face. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

  Her phone rang, and she fumbled for it. Tristan picked it up from the ground and handed it to her.

  Ivy struggled to compose herself. “Hi, Will. Any luck?”

  “No. How about you?”

  “Nothing.”

  “And nothing from the others yet,” he said.

  “We’re looking for a needle in a haystack!” Ivy told him.

  “I know.”

  “Will, I’m afraid Beth’s going to kill herself. She’s going to make sure that she—Gregory—doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

  There was a long silence.

  “Are you there?” Ivy asked.

  “I’m here.” His voice sounded as if it was coming from the deepest part of him, as if he could barely bring his words to the surface.

  “What next?” she asked. “Where are you now?”

  “We’re almost finished with the lots in Hyannis Port.”

  “We’re done here,” Ivy said. “So I guess we should head to Nickerson.”

  “Bryan and I will meet you there, at the main entrance. There must be some kind of information or nature center. If the place is crowded, stand in front of that.”

  “Okay. We’ll be there.”

  “Drive safely,” Will said. “Ivy? Who’s we?”

  “Luke and I,” she replied, and clicked off before he could ask any more.

  TRISTAN FELT EXPOSED, WALKING SO OPENLY IN A part of Nickerso
n that he had visited only under the cover of darkness. Even more, he felt as if his inner self was going to be laid out in the open for Will and Bryan to examine. The strangest part of this “reunion” was that the person he had worked closely with to save Ivy was sure to be antagonistic toward him, and the person he’d never met before would welcome him as an old friend, almost a brother.

  As he and Ivy walked toward a building marked Nature Center, Will spotted him—that is, he saw “Luke”—and turned away. At the same time, Bryan broke into a smile. He moved quickly toward Tristan, meeting him halfway. He clasped Tristan’s hand, then gave him a teammate’s hug.

  Tristan knew that he was walking a tightrope with Bryan, especially after acting as if he remembered things when he was around Gran and Hank Tynan. Gran had wanted to talk, and for the most part, Tristan simply had to echo her. But if Bryan was Luke’s close friend growing up, there were too many things Tristan could get completely wrong. So here was another bit of irony, Tristan thought. Bryan might be the easiest person in the world to convince that “Luke” had amnesia, given all the opportunities Tristan would have to say the wrong thing.

  “What’s this furry stuff on your chin!” Bryan exclaimed, stepping back. “You trying to look like a professor rather than the best damned hockey player born in Providence?”

  “So I was better than you?” Tristan replied, guessing—and hoping he had guessed right—that Luke and Bryan had been competitive friends.

  Bryan grinned. “I missed ya, Luke.” He eyed him up and down carefully, and for a moment, Tristan feared that Bryan had noticed something not quite right.

  “Looking good,” Bryan said. “Thin, but I guess that’s to be expected. You need some of my mom’s cooking.”

  “At this point, I wouldn’t mind your cooking. How is she . . . your mom?”

  “Great. Completely outfitted in BU sportswear. There for every game—she’d come to practices if I let her. You should have seen it Parents’ Weekend, when Joan got out there and demonstrated her hockey moves to my teammates.”

  Tristan smiled.

  Bryan’s face suddenly grew serious. “You really don’t remember, do you? You would have found that really funny. You used to tease her about her moves.”

  “Oh . . . sorry. If I saw her again, it might help. Ivy and I went to River Gardens, and it helped a little,” Tristan added, with a glance toward her. “I couldn’t remember the names of the streets, but I could find my way around.”

  Ivy nodded to confirm.

  “So some things are coming back,” Bryan said.

  “But not what needs to,” Tristan replied. “I have no idea how I ended up on the beach at Chatham. I can’t remember anything about the night Corinne died or how you got me out of Providence—Ivy told me about that. I know I owe you big time.”

  “Give me an honest answer,” Bryan said, peering at him so hard that Tristan felt as if he were looking into his soul. “I promise not to get my feelings hurt: Do you remember me?”

  Tristan hesitated.

  “Thanks for the honest answer,” Bryan said. “Oh well.” Then he glanced over his shoulder and rested his hand on Tristan’s. “Just a head’s up: Will’s not real happy to see you.”

  “No kidding,” Tristan replied as the three of them walked toward Will. Tristan held out his hand. “Hi.”

  Will kept his hands in his pockets, nodded, and turned immediately to Ivy.

  Tristan could read Will’s feelings toward Ivy and the surprise she had just delivered in the lift of Will’s eyebrows—not anger as much as disbelief—a sense of betrayal. And Tristan couldn’t blame him.

  “Okay, let’s look at the park map and figure out who covers which lots.”

  The four of them walked to an outdoor display. Tristan studied Will closely as he and Ivy conferred and divvied up the eight parking areas. Something had changed about Will. His brown eyes were years older than those of a guy starting college. Was it pain or knowledge? Tristan wondered. Both. The pain that came with knowledge, the knowledge of evil and what it could do to people.

  “I don’t know where we go after this,” Will was saying to Ivy.

  “Did Beth keep a journal?” Tristan asked.

  Will spun toward him. “Do you think I’m stupid? Of course, and I looked for it right away. It’s gone.”

  “So then we need to remember conversations with her and—”

  “We?” Will interrupted Tristan. “Have you been talking to her?”

  “Will,” Ivy chided softly.

  “No, I haven’t,” Tristan replied calmly. “So it’s just a suggestion that everyone who’s had a conversation with her, even the most ordinary, think back on it. Sometimes, in the heat of the moment we miss something really important.”

  “We miss something?” Will repeated sarcastically.

  “Luke knows you don’t like him, Will. You don’t have to keep making that clear,” Ivy said.

  “And do you know why I don’t like him, Ivy? Because of the way he treats you. If Luke really cared about you, he wouldn’t drag you into his messed-up life.”

  “What if he’s not the one who messed up his life?” she countered. “What if he’s a victim?”

  “Keep your voice down, Ivy,” Bryan reminded her, with a glance toward park visitors crossing the lot.

  “Unbelievable!” Will exclaimed softly.

  Tristan said nothing; after all, it did seem unbelievable, and Will only wanted was best for her.

  But Ivy grew angry. “Luke is innocent!” she said, her voice low but intense. “And we’re going to prove it.”

  “Let it go, Ivy,” Tristan said. “It’s not important.”

  “It is important,” she replied, and turned back to Will. “Someone else killed Corinne and let Luke take the rap.”

  Will glanced toward Bryan as if asking whether that was possible.

  Bryan nodded. “It’s old news.”

  “To you, Bryan, but not to Will,” Ivy replied, turning back to Will.

  “Let’s everybody stay cool,” Bryan said. “No need to make a public announcement.”

  “We think that Corinne was blackmailing someone,” Ivy continued in a calmer voice, “and her victim had finally had enough.”

  Bryan raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure? Did you find out something when you went back to the Gardens?”

  “Don’t you get it?” Ivy continued to Will. “Luke is innocent. You’re angry with the wrong person. And your distrust is making everything harder. We’re all on the same side, Will.”

  “In the end,” Will said, his voice dark with misery, “it doesn’t really matter. If I lose Beth, nothing else matters.”

  Tristan saw Ivy’s anger evaporate. She rested her hand on Will’s arm. “Then let’s find her.”

  Bryan and Will took the lots on the east side of the large park, and Ivy and Tristan headed for those on the west side. Despite the shade of acres of trees, the air had grown hot and sticky, with the kind of stillness that precedes late afternoon storms. Ivy peered up at the yellow-gray sky, closed the car windows, and put the AC on full blast. They were halfway through their trolling of the lots when her phone beeped.

  “Suzanne,” Tristan said hopefully.

  Ivy stopped her car and read the text aloud: “Can’t get through to Beth, not since scary dream.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Just that she’ll keep trying.”

  Tristan remembered that some of Beth’s dreams were prophetic. “What is she talking about?”

  “About a week ago, Beth dreamed that a snake was coiled around my neck, strangling me.”

  Tristan stared at Ivy. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I interpreted it as her fear that you—I mean Luke—would kill me the same way she thought he killed Corinne. I knew I was safe with you. There was no point in upsetting you with the dream.”

  Tristan struggled to remain patient. “Except you weren’t safe. Beth has the snake in her, and he has already tried to
kill you once.”

  “Not by strangling,” Ivy argued, “by suffocating.”

  “Either way, you cut off oxygen.”

  “Even so, she was just thinking about Corinne and—”

  “Think back, Ivy,” he interrupted. “Were there other dreams or odd things Beth said—an image, anything that might give us a clue.”

  Ivy shut her eyes, then opened them again wide and nodded. “Last Sunday night, when the others were out, I found Beth lying in bed so still it looked like she was dead, with a red candle flickering on the table next to her. When I got closer, I saw the amethyst. Its chain was fastened to the headboard of my bed. The other end had been shaped into a noose. My china angel was hanging by her neck.”

  Tristan grasped Ivy’s hand.

  “I figured it was a warning to me, the same kind Gregory used to send through Ella, when he cut her foot, then mine, and when he hung her: What happens to Ella, will happen to you. You remember, that’s how he worked.”

  Icy fear ran through Tristan’s veins. “I remember, but I don’t think this warning was for you. Ivy, we have to get to the bell tower! Last weekend, I saw Beth standing outside the church, gazing up at the bell as if in a trance. I thought that she had sensed me there—that she knew I’d climbed up there. I was afraid that Gregory had picked up some sign of me. But I think it’s much worse. I think the angel to be hung is Beth.”

  Twenty-six

  THEY WERE JUST MINUTES FROM THE CHURCH, BUT IT seemed to take an eternity to get there. Will and Bryan, whom they had called immediately, had pulled out of the park right behind them.

  “Angels! Angels, protect her,” Ivy prayed aloud.

  Tristan called to Lacey, but she didn’t respond.

  Turning into the lot behind the church, they spotted Will’s silver Toyota.

  “She’s here!” Ivy was both relieved and terrified—relieved to have found Beth, terrified that they had guessed her plan correctly.

  Bryan and Will swung into the lot next to them. Tristan raced ahead to the window with the broken latch and shoved it upward. The three of them rushed through the opening and followed him to the steps. On the main floor they ran down the aisle of the church toward its front entrance, calling Beth’s name.