Ever Present Danger (22 page)

“Well, since you’re the only livin’ eyewitness, he probably wants you to make it public that Pete, Reg, and Denny killed Joe.”

“But I can’t do that without risking going to jail.”

“Don’t worry. We’re not going to let that happen.”

BRANDON JONES WALKED in the front door and laid his ski jacket over the back of the couch. He heard the TV on in the kitchen and headed that way. Kelsey stood at the stove with her back to him.

“Perfect timing,” Kelsey Jones said. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

Brandon walked up behind her and put his arms around her, his cheek next to hers, and caught a whiff of her perfume. “How’s my favorite girl?”

“I’d better be your
only
girl.” Kelsey turned around in his arms and pressed her lips to his. “I had a great day. How was your afternoon with Buzz?”

“Super. We took a short rafting trip. Really got me pumped for a day on the white water.”

“Were you able to get the dock stained?”

“Yeah. The sun was warm. It was a perfect day for it.”

Kelsey turned around and unplugged the vegetable steamer. “So are you done now?”

“Not quite. We have to move fixtures around in the gift shop and put product out, but we’re getting there. Looks great.”

“When does he open for business?”

“Officially, June 1. But he’s got a few enthusiasts who don’t mind the colder temperatures and have signed up early.” Brandon smiled. “Like me. We’re going out this Sunday.”

Come on, honey, say something
, Brandon thought.

Kelsey turned around, her eyes like searchlights moving across his conscience. “What about church?”

“I didn’t think it could hurt to skip it, just this once. Buzz wants to get going early.”

“Can’t you go Saturday?”

“No, he’s got other plans.” Brandon could almost feel the ice forming around Kelsey’s heart as she walked over to the oven and took out a loaf of sourdough bread.

“I thought we agreed when we moved here that you weren’t going to let your weekend recreation interfere with church anymore.”

“Oh, come on, honey. I haven’t missed a single Sunday. This is an exception. I’m going to be completely immersed in camp before long and won’t have many chances to go rafting. Besides, I don’t have to go to church to connect with God. I can do it outdoors.”

Kelsey lifted her eyes. “How many people who say that actually do it? It’s just a big fat excuse.”

“That’s a cheap shot. You know I’ve
always
felt closer to God in nature than I do in church.”

“That’s not the point! You promised you weren’t going to do this!”

Brandon threw up his hands. “For crying out loud, honey. It’s one lousy Sunday. Why are you going off about this?”

“Maybe it’s because I can’t stand Buzz Easton and don’t trust him any farther than I can throw him! Why can’t you find someone else to hang out with?” Kelsey turned off the burner under the cheese sauce and glared at him. “I don’t think white-water rafting is a valid excuse to miss church, especially when you’ve got all day Saturday to play. Buzz isn’t going to be sensitive to that. So why don’t you find a guy at the camp you can do things with?”

Brandon went over and put his hands on her shoulders and waited until he got her to look up at him. “I’m not going to make a habit of missing church, Kel. I think you could cut me a little
slack just this once. I’ve waited months to go rafting. I have to grab the opportunities that are offered to me. Don’t forget Buzz isn’t charging me.”

“Well, you’ve been working to help him. It’s not as though you haven’t earned it.”

“Fair enough. And I have a chance to start collecting on Sunday. Can’t you just be happy for me?”

Kelsey breathed in and exhaled. “I doubt if I’ll ever be happy about you spending time with Buzz. But it’s not going to do me any good to hound you about church.”

Ivy Griffith sat in the moonlight flooding the front steps, wrapped in a wool blanket, and wondering how she was going to deal with the stress of not knowing who it was that knew the truth about Joe Hadley’s death.

It had felt good telling Bill the truth. He was sweet not to make her feel guilty for having done nothing to stop the fight. Why she decided to trust him, she wasn’t sure. But Bill seemed like a friend who would keep confidences. She couldn’t get over how ironic it was that “Icky Ziwicki” was now her sole confidant, and the one man she found attractive. He was nothing like Pete Barton, inside or out.

Bill wasn’t muscular or particularly masculine or handsome. Not someone who would stand out in a crowd. But he had a gentleness about him that seemed to pull her in and not let go. Was it just because she so desperately wanted someone to care about her that she found him attractive? Or was she seeing something in him that had matured over the years? She felt almost guilty at how satisfying it had been, dancing with him at the reunion and creating a stir. Too bad Pete didn’t know. It would have been fun to see his ego put in its place. It felt odd that she wasn’t sad about not seeing Pete again. Certainly she was horrified by the way he had died, but it was also a huge relief not having to deal with the pact anymore.

Sasha nudged Ivy’s hand with her cold, wet nose.

“You’re spoiled, you know that?”

Ivy stroked the fur under Sasha’s chin, thinking Bill was right—that if whoever had shot the guys planned to kill her, he would have done it by now. She simply couldn’t allow herself to be intimidated into going to the sheriff and taking the fall for Joe’s death. Why should she be the one to carry the shame? The one who ended up in jail? With no one to corroborate her story, she’d be taking a huge risk.

Trust God with it, Ivy girl. You can never go wrong doing what’s right
.

Ivy wrapped the blanket more tightly around her, Lu’s words seeming almost audible. How could she be sure what was right anymore? Telling the truth about Joe might give his parents closure, but it couldn’t take away their grief. And it would surely add to hers on several levels.

A low growl emanated from Sasha, her gaze set on something Ivy couldn’t see.

“What is it, girl?”

Sasha stood up on all fours and let out a long, rolling growl, then barked several times and walked in a circle and barked again.

Ivy peered out into the moonlit landscape, her skin covered in goose bumps, and thought she saw a dark form duck behind a tree just as Sasha sprang from the porch and ran barking toward the open meadow.

Ivy jumped to her feet and ran up on the porch, her hand on the doorknob, and listened intently. Sasha’s barking stopped almost as abruptly as it had started, and half a minute later she sauntered back up on the porch, seeming as content as if she had just wandered back to the house from one of her roaming adventures.

Ivy pushed open the front door and followed the dog inside, convinced she was being paranoid and wondering how she would ever find peace with all the uncertainty hanging over her.

Carolyn Griffith sat in the kitchen, dressed in her quilted bathrobe and sipping a mug of warm milk. “Montana, you need to finish your milk, sweetie. It’s past your bedtime.”

Montana Griffith lifted his eyes, a white mustache framing his smile. “I’m bigger now. Can’t I stay up till nine? Ian gets to.”

“Well, maybe Ian gets up in the morning when he’s called.”

“Lu always called me three times and let me stay under the covers awhile. She said I woke up happy that way.”

“Is that back talk I’m hearing?” Elam Griffith stood in the doorway.

Montana shook his head, his eyes fixed on his mug. “No, sir. I’m just finishing my milk. It’s kind of hot to drink fast.”

Carolyn hated that Elam’s presence seemed to intimidate Montana and shut him down. “I think I’ll buy you a snooze alarm and show you how to use it. Then you could wake up slowly all by yourself. Would you like that?”

Montana bobbed his head. “Cool.”

“Seems like coddling to me,” Elam said. “If the boy would get to bed on time, he’d be ready to get up.”

“I never like getting up.” Montana glanced up at Elam and then at his mug. “Not even on Saturdays or in the summer.”

“A healthy kid like you? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Lu says I’m not a morning person.”

“Well, life doesn’t cater to you just because you’re not.” Elam went over and poured himself a glass of water. “The sooner you learn to discipline yourself around other people’s schedules, the better.”

Carolyn cleared her throat to signal her annoyance. “If you’ll recall, Rusty was the worst at getting up and getting ready for school. And he’s doing just fine with his veterinary practice. Besides, if Montana learns to use a snooze alarm to get himself up on time, that’s certainly a form of self-discipline.”

Elam said something under his breath and left the kitchen, a bag of corn chips in his hand.

There was a long pause, and then Montana said, “Grandfather Griffith doesn’t like me.”

“Sweetie, he doesn’t
know
you yet. Give him time. He seems like a grouch, but he’s really a big softy.”

“Mom said he didn’t like her either.”

Carolyn’s heart sank. “That’s not true. He loves your mother.”

“Mom said nobody loved her when she was on drugs—except Gramma Lu.” Montana’s expression was suddenly somber, and he looked at her with those brown puppy eyes. “Grandmother Griffith…how long is
someday?
”

“I’m not sure what you mean, sweetie.”

“Gramma Lu said
someday
I would see her again in heaven.”

Carolyn folded her hands on the table. “Well, it’s hard to say how long someday is because it’s never the same. It can come quickly. Or it can take a very long time.”

“Like someday I’ll grow up and be a man, and that’s a long time? And someday I’ll get a snooze alarm, and that’s a short time?”

Carolyn touched the end of his nose with her finger. “Exactly. You know what? I think we should think of an easier name than Grandmother Griffith. Can you think of something else?”

“Maybeeeee…just Grandma?”

“That sounds nice.”

Montana took a sip of warm milk and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I never had a
real
one before. Gramma Lu was my pretend grandma.”

“But you loved her just as if she were your real grandmother. And you always will. That’s very special.”

Montana pushed his mug aside. “I’m feeling sleepy now. Would you read me a story?”

“Of course I will.”

Ivy sat in the living room, thumbing through the newspaper and distracted by the sound of her father crunching corn chips.

“So are you and Bill Ziwicki seeing each other now?” Elam said.

“We’re getting to know each other, Dad. There’s no romance, if that’s what you mean.”

“I was just curious. I saw the two of you having a picnic at the park today.”

Ivy sighed under her breath. “Are you following me now?”

“No, I was driving by and happened to spot Bill’s van and saw you sitting with him, that’s all.”

“We had sub sandwiches and root beer. Not exactly a candlelight dinner. Both of us are distraught about the shootings. It’s nice to be able to talk to someone who can empathize.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. By the way, you ever going to tell me what happened with Harriett Barclay yesterday?”

“I apologized and paid her for the lipstick. She gave me a short lecture on how lucky I was she was willing to take the money and not report me to the police, and then I left.”

“She’s right, you know.” Elam wadded up the corn chip bag and set it on the end table. “The last thing you need is another charge on your arrest record.”

“No one knows that more than I do.” Ivy folded the newspaper and laid it on the coffee table. “It won’t happen again.”

A few moments of awkward silence passed, and then Elam said, “We need to do something to take the pressure off your financial situation. You and I both know you’re never going to be able to support the boy on what you’re making.”

“Then I’ll get another job. I have to figure out how to make it work.”

“Your mother and I have been talking about it. We’d like to buy you a car. That would give you a lot of freedom, and it’s one less expense for you to worry about.”

“You don’t have to do that. I just need time to get on my feet.”

Elam came over and sat next to her on the couch, his hands folded between his knees. “But this is a big step. You’ve never tried to support the boy on your own before, and we don’t want the financial pressure to discourage you.”

Or cause me to shoot up again
. “I can’t believe you’d do that for me.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “I’ve already had my eye on a nifty little Jeep Liberty I want you to take a look at. Seems about the right size. I’m pretty sure they’d sell it to me for a couple hundred over dealer’s cost.”

“So I can start going places by myself again?”

“Not just yet. It concerns me that whoever shot Pete and the guys might have a beef with you, too.”

Ivy shook her head. “I don’t think the shooting had anything at all to do with me.”

“Honey, an irrational person could be mad at you merely by association. You can’t discount that possibility.”

Suddenly Ivy was flooded again with doubt—and fear. Did whoever knew about Joe Hadley’s death hold her as responsible as Pete, Reg, and Denny? Is that what the cryptic messages were meant to convey?

“Look, Flint might wrap this up really quickly,” Elam said. “I just think it’s wise for you not to go out alone until we know more. But that doesn’t mean we can’t start looking at cars.”

“I haven’t had a car since college. When I lived in Denver, I took the bus or walked everywhere. Montana won’t know how to act.”

“You and the boy can stay here till you save enough money to find your own place. Your mother enjoys babysitting, so that’ll save on expenses. Better for the boy not to be with a stranger.”