Everlasting (24 page)

“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.”

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.

Ivy knew that the boys’ deep voices would carry up to the tower, but would they keep Beth from hurting herself or would they push her to action?

She can’t be dead
, Ivy thought.
Somehow, I’d feel it, I’d know it.
Angels, please.

The ladder in the vestibule was gone. Beth must have pulled it up through the trapdoor.
How did she have the strength?
Ivy wondered, then remembered how strong Beth was when she tried to suffocate her. Gregory had made it possible. Perhaps, then, he hadn’t figured out his fate if Beth died.

“Get on my shoulders, Will. Help him up, Luke,” Bryan directed.

Tristan cupped his hands, giving Will a step up to Bryan, then Will pulled himself through the open square in the ceiling. Ivy followed, propelled by Bryan and Tristan through the trapdoor.

It took a moment to regain her balance and see the scene before her. A shaft of light slanted downward from the open door beneath the bell, shining like a spotlight on
Beth. Beth stood high on the ladder, one hand grasping it, the other fingering the coil of rope around her neck.

“Beth, please,” Ivy begged, her voice shaking. “Please hold on.”

Beth stared straight ahead, stroking the snake of rope.

“Beth, look at me!”

She didn’t react. Ivy’s fear mushroomed into panic. Beth was already dead to them—they’d never get her back—she was already part of Gregory’s world.

Gregory.
He was the one Ivy had to convince. “If she dies, Gregory, you die,” Ivy said, her voice low, quivering with fear and anger. “You’ll be gone from here forever. Leave Beth alone. Leave her now before she can do that to you.”

The ladder creaked; Beth was shifting her weight. Ivy eyed the rope, which was connected to the bell wheel above. If Beth stepped off the ladder, she would drop several feet, but not far enough to touch the floor.

“Don’t move, Beth!” Will shouted. “Keep both feet on the ladder.”

He stepped on the first rung. “Listen to me,” he pleaded. “We’ll get through this together. We’re stronger than he is.”

Will pulled himself up slowly as if fearing to upset Beth. Ivy watched and held her breath.

“Our love is stronger than his hate, Beth,” Will said. “Don’t let go.” He was on the third rung . . . fourth rung. “I need you, Beth, more than you know. Please don’t let go.”

Beth slowly moved her head, looking down on him and Ivy. “Take care of each other,” she said, then removed her hand from the ladder rung and stepped into the air.

“No!” Ivy cried, her heart jerking with the rope.

Will rushed upward.

As Beth’s body dropped, pulling the rope, the bell in the tower clanged. Will grabbed Beth and yanked her body toward him. The return swing of the massive bell threatened to tighten the rope around Beth’s throat. Will struggled to hold Beth with one arm and anchor the rising rope with the other.

Ivy hurried up the ladder behind him. She grabbed hold of the taut rope, pulling down on it hard. Will loosened the noose and pulled it off. The bell, swinging free, clanged loudly.

Beth lay limp in Will’s arms. Tears streamed down his face. Ivy bent over her friend, cradling Beth’s head, crying.

“Please live,” said Will.

Feeling as if her hands were not her own but being guided by an angel, Ivy tilted back Beth’s head and lifted her chin. “She’s breathing!” Ivy reached for Beth’s wrist. “There’s a pulse. Weak, but it’s there.”

Ivy remembered what she had learned in CPR. “We need to get her on the floor so we can—”

Suddenly Beth’s chest heaved upward. Her mouth opened wide. A stroke of lightning flew up the rope and struck the
bronze bell with a deafening blow, shaking the tower until it felt as if it would tumble down. For a moment they were bathed in jagged light. Then the knife of lightning blew out of the tower, leaving the bell to rock and clang madly.

“What the hell?” Bryan exclaimed from below.

“Ivy!” Tristan shouted.

A clap of thunder sounded a short distance away.

“We’re okay. Okay!”

A siren wailed.

“The tower was struck,” Bryan said.

Ivy shakily climbed down the ladder then held it as Will descended with Beth in his arms. He laid her on the floor.

A second siren sounded, its wail surging over the rise and fall of the first.

“Someone must have seen the strike and called it in,” Bryan hollered to them. “Cops’ll come. I’ve got to get Luke out of here.”

“Yes, go!”

“No, Ivy—” Tristan began to protest.

“Now,” Ivy insisted, looking down from the tower at Tristan’s upturned face.

“But—”

“Luke, the police’ll recognize you,” Bryan argued. “If they find you here, it’s over.”

“Go!” Ivy shouted. “Bryan, get him out of here. Call you later.”

Then she knelt down by Will and Beth.

“She’s going to die, Ivy.”

Ivy felt Beth’s wrist. “She’s hanging in there. Her pulse is steadier now.”

“I don’t know how to help her.”

“Help’s on its way.”

“What’s taking them so long?” Will’s voice was panicky.

“They sound close,” Ivy said, trying to reassure him.

“They’re taking forever.”

Ivy watched Beth’s chest rhythmically rise and fall. “She’s holding her own. Help me move her into recovery position.”

“Ivy, if I lose her, I can’t go on!”

Ivy met his eyes, then rested her hand on his. “I know, Will. I know just how that feels.”

BRYAN SWORE AND STEPPED BACK QUICKLY INTO
the shadow of the church’s exterior wall. “Luke, wait! More cops.”

“They’re not stopping,” Tristan observed as the second police car raced past the entrance to the church lot, heading down the narrow road that led to the bay.

“Better for us,” Bryan replied.

A third car—State Police—sped toward the beach.

“But if Ivy and Will need help—”

“They have phones,” Bryan reminded him. “We have to
get you out of here.” He started across the lot, then stopped. “Where’d she come from?”

“Who?”

“The skinny girl with the purple hair.”

Lacey stood in the tall grass of the church lawn. “Looks harmless,” Tristan said.

“Yeah, until she takes down license plates numbers.”

“Just keep going.” The last thing Tristan needed was a conversation with Lacey; if she acted like she knew him, things would get very complicated. “Walk to your car like we belong here.”

Bryan glanced sideways at him. “I guess your survival skills are sharper than mine now.”

They crossed the lot, Tristan following Bryan. As soon as Bryan was focused on his car, Tristan glanced back at Lacey, who was looking up at the sky, frowning. Was Gregory gone from Beth? Tristan wondered. He pointed toward the tower, trying to signal to Lacey that she was needed there.

By the time Bryan opened his car door, Lacey had disappeared. Bryan turned quickly around, looking for her, then shrugged. “No one’s watching at the moment, but I hear more sirens. Get in the back, down between the seats, till we clear this place.”

Tristan nodded and pulled open the back door. “Oh great.”

“Sorry about the mess.”

Tristan climbed into the pile of worn workout clothes, then Bryan covered him up.

“Are you trying to asphyxiate me?”

Bryan laughed. “Keep quiet, and I’ll open the windows.”

“I don’t think that’ll help.”

Bryan drove slowly to the edge of the lot. “Volunteer fire and an ambulance,” he said softly. “Hang on.”

His tires spat stones as he spun out of the driveway onto the road.

“Some smooth driving!” Tristan remarked from the back seat. More than ever he felt split in half, his heart and soul back with Ivy, Will, and Beth, the superficial part of himself preoccupied with playing Luke. “Hungry, Bryan? There’s something back here that looks like part of a hotdog.”

“I was wondering where that went.”

“It’s got some fuzzy stuff on it,” Tristan continued.

“Car lint or mold?”

“Can’t tell.”

“Shut up a minute—we’re stopping at an intersection.”

The car slowed and idled, then made a sudden turn. A horn blared.

“So how close did he come to hitting us?” Tristan called from the back seat.

“A few inches,” Bryan replied, laughing. “You can come up for air now. But stay in the back seat, just in case.”

“Yeah, that’ll look real normal, you chauffeuring me.”

“Best we can do, buddy. We’re headed toward Harwich, my uncle’s rink. I got keys to the storerooms. You’ll be out of sight till things settle and we hear from Ivy.”

“Thanks.”

“You in love?”

Tristan hesitated for a moment, wondering if Luke would admit it, then grinned. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am.”

“She’s awfully smart, you know.” It sounded like a warning rather than a compliment.

“I can handle her,” Tristan replied, glad Ivy wasn’t there to hear him playing macho.

“You’re going to have to finish high school. She’s the kind to want a college guy.”

“I guess.” Tristan shrugged. “I’m not thinking that far ahead. Hey, there’s a warm can of Coke back here. Can I have it?”

“If you open it outside the window. I don’t want you to mess up my clean car.”

Tristan laughed, opened the can, and watched the foam blow off the top.

“How’s the drinking?” Bryan asked.

Tristan was about to answer “warm and stale,” then realized Bryan was referring to Luke’s alcoholism. “I’ve stayed away from it.”

“Completely?” Bryan sounded as if he wanted to believe it but couldn’t.

“Yeah, well, when you wake up finding yourself beaten to a pulp and have no memory of how you got that way, you don’t have that much desire to keep drowning yourself in alcohol.”

“Then maybe it was worth it,” Bryan replied. “Was Ivy telling the truth or just trying to make you look good to Will? Did you really find out something about Corinne’s murderer?”

Tristan quickly weighed the pros and cons of revealing what they knew. “She exaggerated a little, but it seems kind of obvious that someone was being blackmailed by Corinne and decided to put an end to it. Considering what I heard about her yesterday, I should have figured it out back before my memory was wiped clean.”