Old Growth & Ivy (The Spook Hills Trilogy Book 1) (14 page)

***

For Ivy, December started out bleak
and lonely with no visits from Steve.  With the dark, wet days of winter,
the nights seemed long.  She kept busy at home by decorating for
Christmas, putting up her trees and bringing out the greens, candles and other
wonders of the season she had collected over the years.  She had fresh
spruce wreaths on the doors decorated with red ribbon with gold backing that
flipped merrily in the wind. 

Her new replacement at work had been
identified and would start on January 2nd, allowing Ivy to move to part-time
and then become redundant.  While this had been her choice, years of
commitment made it hard to step away.  Even so, despite the exhilaration
from her times with Steve, she continued to feel worn out.  She had to
retire, regain her health and move on.  Her phone began to ring.

"Steve?" Ivy said into the
phone, seeing his cell number and lighting up inside.

"Ivy, I'm back in D.C."

"Can you come out?"

"Not right yet." 

To Ivy, his voice sounded strained,
"Is something wrong?  Are you hurt?"

"No."

 Ivy heard a long intake of
breath. 

"Mathew is.  He took three
bullets, one creased his forehead, one went into his hip, right below his
protective vest, and chipped the bone.  The third bullet tore up his
thigh, shattering his left femur.  Ivy, I can't leave him."

"Is he in a hospital in
D.C.?"

"Airlifted him here. 
Haven't been able to reach his mother.  She must be off on one of her
travels.  Mathew is conscious, but his leg, oh god, his leg.  I'm so
afraid he will never walk right again.  He came out of his second surgery
about an hour ago.  I'm taking time off to be with him."

"Do you want me to come
out?"

"This perp could turn
vengeful.  I don't want you close to us here; it might become dangerous,
even in D.C."  His voice carried a lacing of the menace he
felt.  “I was thinking of taking an apartment in Portland when Mathew can
be transported there.   That way I could take care of him and see you
too.”

After hearing how upset Steve was over
the shooting, Ivy wanted to help him and Mathew.  At least she could
handle the local logistics.  “Give me an idea of what you want to spend
and I’ll check out places in the Pearl District or downtown so you can be
within walking distance of shops, restaurants and the Max line for rapid
transit.”

"Can I get a bus or something to
your house?" 

"Steve, do you really not drive?”

“I can, but I don’t.  While I
have a license, unless I am totally absorbed in a high speed car chase, I get
to thinking about something and oops, I’m a ticking time bomb behind the wheel.”

“At least you’re smart about it. 
No wonder you’re a city boy.  Once we have the location of the apartment,
we can check bus schedules.  They run at least hourly and stop a couple of
blocks away from here.”

"I'll arrange medical transport
for Mathew.  Don't worry about us getting out there, but I sure appreciate
you screening the apartments.  It’ll need to be furnished.  The
Bureau will pay for this as a kind of safe house.  Two bedrooms and a
study, as I will work part-time from there.  No stairs for Mathew –
elevator okay.  Also good security on the building.  Month to month
lease.”

“I’ll see what’s out there.”

“Ivy, it’s possible that we could be
followed.  Which means . . .”

“I could be in danger.  I figured
that out already.”

“So I have a request.”

“Only one?”

Despite his serious mood, Steve had to
chuckle.  “Well, four actually.  First, you have the security on your
house reviewed.  Second, you learn self-defense tactics.  I can teach
you or you can take a class.”

“Okay on both.”  Those were steps
she should take anyway, living alone the way she did.

“Three, you learn to shoot and carry a
gun.”

“No way.”

“Then I will stay in D.C. and we will
not risk seeing each other.”

Ivy was silent for a long time. 
Steve waited, letting her think it through. 

“I am not happy about it, however if
you will help me learn to shoot and select a gun I can handle, then okay. 
You said four things and that is only three.”

“If you sense danger, you call me or
you call 911 or you drive to a police station – anything that will get you away
from that danger.”

“No problem, there.”  Ivy felt a
chill go through her.  “You live a whole different life, don’t you?”

“So ordinary people can live their
ordinary lives.  That is what the FBI does.  We work to keep things
safe, or at least to keep the worst of the scum at bay.”

“Okay Big Guy, I have some requests
too.  First if you spot anything, you will alert me.”

“Second?”

“Say yes to the first one.”

“Yes.”

“Second if you leave town, you will
tell me.”

“Not going anywhere until Mathew is
recovered.”

“And lastly no bugs at my house. 
I can handle everything else, even having agents around, but I do not want the
house bugged.  I will not tolerate having anyone listen to private
conversations."

"Yeah, got it.”

Ivy jutted her chin out, making her
vocal cords tighten as she spoke.  "This is not
negotiable." 

Their conversation left Ivy concerned,
exhilarated and apprehensive.  Poor Mathew -- her heart went out to
him.  While she only had an impression of him from their meeting at the
airport in October, Steve's high praise of him made Mathew seem more familiar
than he was.  He was badly injured and he lacked a family to care for him,
with his mother too much into her own life even to stay in touch. 
Nonetheless how conflicted Ivy felt -- saddened by Mathew's injuries,
apprehensive about the potential danger, excited by the prospect of seeing
Steve more regularly.  Living under a possible threat would be a change in
lifestyle after all her years of independence.  Ivy was not the most
patient of women and was certainly a private one.  On the positive side,
this change would pull her head out of the office.  She stared out into
the rainy night at the lights on the hills beyond and nodded to herself. 
She could do this. 

Should she invite them to her
house?  They could take over the downstairs where the two guest rooms
were.  While she would see much more of Steve that way, it seemed too
soon.  She needed time alone to deal with the upcoming transition at work,
moving to part time and then retiring.  It was too early in their
relationship.  She smiled then, pleased that Steve wanted to be in
Portland and closer to her during this time.

***

The day before Steve and Mathew were
due to arrive, a group of agents and technicians scheduled time to install a
hospital bed and temporary security devices in the apartment Ivy had found in
the Pearl District.  It was a chilly, blustery day that threatened snow,
although so far only a few fat flakes had come down.  They did a walk-through
of the apartment, drawing up a floor plans and noting access points for the
building. 

Ivy's life had taken such an
unpredictably weird turn that she was unsure it would ever be the same
again.  Now as she waited for Steve and Mathew to be driven in from the airport,
she wondered if that was what Steve had seen in her -- a potential refuge when
he needed it.  Was she a lonely older woman who was just plain
gullible?  Was Portland only a place for Steve to hide out from the perps
the FBI hunted?  Did she really appreciate who Steve was?  While she
had seen the FBI badge along with his gun and gear, her mind wandered into
dangerously negative territory.

She walked down the hall, went into
the bathroom and took a long, hard look at herself in the mirror.  Doubts were
crowding in around her, making her feel both vulnerable and more than a little
foolish.  Had she deluded herself into thinking that she was so special
that Steve was falling in love with her?  While she had never sensed any
falseness in him, should she confront him and ask for the truth?  She
decided to wait until after Mathew was settled in.

That morning Ivy stocked the
kitchen.  Knowing that Steve was not a cook, she selected foods that would
be easy to prepare, especially for breakfast and lunch.  At home the night
before she made a big beef stew, a meatloaf and a pot of chicken soup going for
comfort food to suit the weather where snow was swirling around outside. 
Downtown Portland might receive a snowfall or two a year and this year several
inches were forecast with this storm.

With the snow now coming down in
earnest, Ivy worried about Steve and Mathew’s safe arrival.  Around noon,
Steve called to say they had landed and were on their way.  Silly though
it seemed under the circumstances, Ivy went around the apartment turning on the
Christmas lights she had brought from the Portland house.  She put a
little tree in Mathew’s room to give it a holiday feeling and a larger tree in
the living room, as well as some greens, candles and mini-lights here and
there.  She had baked an apple spice cake that morning and the apartment
was scented with cloves and cinnamon.

Mathew, sandy-haired and pleasantly
handsome, who Ivy remembered for his laughing eyes, was wheeled into the
apartment from a big government Suburban.  His haggard face showed his
pain, though he clutched Ivy's hand with some strength as he went by, murmuring
thanks.  She stayed out of the way while Steve and the agents who drove
them settled Mathew in.  With more drugs pumped into him, he was quickly
asleep. 

After conferring with Steve, the
agents did another inspection of the apartment and then departed.  She
noticed that they called him “Pete”.  With Mathew settled, Steve pulled
Ivy close, thanking her again for her help.  He took in the twinkling
decorations and smiled a little.  They made him realize that he would have
to do Christmas shopping, something he had not done since he lost his
parents. 

Rather than put it off, Ivy decided to
confront Steve. 

“Who is Pete?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“My alias.  Guess I should have
told you.  Even the local agents don’t know my real identity or
Mathew’s.  They think we’re witnesses to a crime and are in the Witness
Protection Program.  The Chief set it up.”

“To hide you from the perp?”

“Yeah and from, never mind.”

“Steve, tell me.  Keeping me in
the dark will only make me more anxious.”

“I think we have a mole at the
Bureau.”

“Who is tipping off this perp?”

Steve nodded glumly. 

“Why didn’t you tell me this over the
phone?  Is that why those guys yesterday kept calling me Mindy?”

“You didn’t correct them did you?”

“No.  Why didn’t they ask for
ID?”

“I had emailed your photo.  Told
them you were a local contact arranging our personal logistics.  Your full
name is Mindy Madeline.”

“You make that up?”

“Yeah.  Same number of
syllables.  My full name is Pete
Kampton
and
Mathew is Ivan Holden.” 

“Is the lease in that name and
everything?” 

Steve nodded.  “Got all the ids
too.”

“Do I get phony ids?”

“No.  I am trying to keep you
untraceable.”

“Steve, be honest with me.  Is
this why you pursued me?  To have someone you could hide out with?”

He looked surprised and then
sad.  “Oh god Ivy.  Nothing like that.  You are NOT part of this
FBI life.   If that is what you think, then we shouldn’t have come
out here.  I so want to know you more.  I spent the last week working
to cover my tracks so that you would not be sucked into this.”

Ivy stayed silent for a long time
thinking over this conversation -- false identities, her alias, hiding from a
mole at the Bureau, Steve trying to shield her from the perp.  Steve
waited.  She noticed that for a man as demanding as he could be, he was
surprisingly patient when she needed to think things over. 

“How is this going to work?  Do
we act like friends and see each other now and then?”

“I sure hope not.  I checked with
the landlord and you can bring the dogs here if you want to spend the
night.  I paid an extra pet fee.  When Mathew can move around, maybe
we can come up to your place on weekends or I’ll schedule a local agent to stay
with him when we go out.”

Ivy nodded.  “Speaking of the
dogs, I need to get them outside.  How about I brave the snow now and go
home?”

“You coming back?”

“You lighting that fire?” she asked,
pointing to the gas fireplace.

“As soon as you’re back and I have my
woman here to cuddle.  Hey, you have any board games or jigsaw
puzzles?  My parents and I always brought them out on snowy or rainy
days.” 

Ivy laughed so hard that the sound of
it filled the room.  These twists in Steve’s persona kept catching her
off-guard.  This consummate FBI agent wanted to play Scrabble?