ʺNo.ʺ The swiftness of his response made her blink. ʺI need some sleep, Ivy. I need… some time to myself — some space.ʺ
The same thing that she had asked of Will. Ivyʹs throat tightened. ʺIʹll be better tomorrow. Donʹt forget to feed Pegasus,ʺ he added with a forced smile.
ʺCall me,ʺ she said.
Without replying, Guy brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers and walked away.
IVY PACED THE FIRST FLOOR OF THE COTTAGE, mentally replaying the scene between Guy and the girl at the carnival, trying to interpret it. Guyʹs gestures suggested strong emotions, but whether she had seen anger, frustration, or disbelief, Ivy couldnʹt say.
If the girl had claimed she knew Guy, why hadnʹt he told Ivy, so they could pursue whatever clues he now had? Maybe he wanted to check things out without her looking over his shoulder. Maybe he didnʹt like what he had heard about himself; maybe it was something terrible.
No, Ivy told herself. Your mind has been poisoned by Beth and Will.
Still, once suspicion had taken root, she couldnʹt get rid of it. Each time she passed through the kitchen, she saw Bethʹs laptop lying open on the table. Was it a desire to help or a failure to trust that tempted her?
She wasnʹt sure, but at eleven fifteen, with the others still out, she sat down to Google the name ʺLuke.ʺ
ʺLukeʺ and what? Ivy drummed her fingers. ʺLukeʺ and ʺmissing person,ʺ she typed, then laughed at herself. Only 51,800 results. She tried ʺLukeʺ and ʺmissing personʺ and ʺMassachusetts.ʺ 8,310 results. As she scanned them she found entries for hospitals named St Luke and people named Luke who were not from Massachusetts but had a relative there or had passed through there.
She could eliminate ʺSt.ʺ and ʺhospitalʺ from the search, but did it really make sense to restrict her search to Massachusetts? Why not Rhode Island or any other state, she thought; Cape Cod was crawling with tourists — the girl at the carnival could have been one.
Perhaps if she searched by date. But when did Guy go missing? The day he was left for dead on the beach, or could it have been some time before? The articles and postings always mentioned age, but she didnʹt know exactly how old he was.
Ivy continued scanning, clicking on entries, reading description after description of people who had disappeared into thin air. Sheʹd had no idea there were so many.
Had something terrible happened to them, she wondered, or had they ʺescapedʺ and lied to start new lives? Engrossed in what she was reading, she didnʹt hear the footsteps. She wasnʹt aware of Will until he leaned on the back of her chair.
ʺIvy, what are you doing?ʺ She slammed down the computer lid and whirled around. ʺWill! You scared me,ʺ she said, knowing that was a flimsy excuse for her overreaction. Will remained unruffled. ʺWhoʹs Luke?ʺ When he reached as if he was going to open the laptop, she laid her hand on it. ʺI donʹt know.ʺ
ʺIs that Guyʹs real name?ʺ
ʺIf it is,ʺ she replied, ʺIʹm sure you would have discovered that by now with your thorough investigation.ʺ Will grimaced. ʺIʹm not your enemy. Ivy.ʺ
ʺAnd you think that Guy is?ʺ He folded his arms. ʺI think you canʹt tell the difference between a guy caring about you and a guy using you.ʺ
Ivy felt the heat rise in her cheeks. ʺGet out of here! Get out now!ʺ
Before Will could slam the door behind him. Ivy closed down her search and turned off the computer. If only she could turn off the growing fear in her mind.
FROM THE MOMENT SHE AWOKE TUESDAY MORNING, Ivy checked her cell phone, but Guy didnʹt call. It was hard not to phone him, but heʹd said he wanted space, so she forced herself to be patient.
Late in the afternoon, finding the phoneʹs silence unbearable, she drove to St.
Peterʹs to practice piano, hoping to fill her head with Chopin, Schubert, and Beethoven. At six thirty, she picked up a sandwich at a cafe near the church, then returned to practice.
What if something has happened to Guy? she thought, and almost used that as an excuse to call him. But she knew that Kip had her phone number ʺin case of emergencyʺ and would have contacted her if there had been a problem. At eight twenty, she drove home, setting her phone on the car seat so she could quickly pick it up.
Arriving at the Seabright, Ivy saw that both Kelseyʹs and Willʹs cars were gone.
The cottageʹs windows were dark, and inside it was silent. Ivy walked quietly, reluctant to disturb the buildingʹs twilight In the kitchen only the night‐light burned, shining on a note from Aunt Cindy that said she would be out for the evening.
Hoping to take her mind off Guy, Ivy headed upstairs to fetch her paperback mystery. Halfway up the steps she stopped. Candlelight flickered against the bedroomʹs low ceiling. She tiptoed to the top of the stairs and stared with amazement at Beth, who was sitting on the floor by Dhanyaʹs bed, focusing on the Ouija board.
Above the circle of tea lights, Bethʹs profile was ghostly white, a streak of crimson staining her cheek. She gave no sign of knowing that Ivy was moving toward her.
With her fingers resting on the planchette, Beth closed her eyes and chanted softly. Ivy leaned forward, trying to hear the words. ʺAnswer, answer, give me your answerʺ Beth murmured.
Seconds ticked by. Bethʹs hands, shoulders, and head were still. The only movement was that of her eyes beneath pale, closed lids. She was like a person dreaming, her eyes darting behind the lids, seeing things that Ivy could not.
ʺ Answer, answer, give me your answer.ʺ
The planchette started to move, its motion erratic at first.
ʺ Answer, answer!ʺ Beth chanted, her voice more insistent. The triangular piece moved in a slow circle around the board — counterclockwise.
Ivy counted six circles. Then six more, and six more again.
ʺ Answer, answer, give me your answer, Is it you?ʺ
The planchette moved to the letter G.
Ivy held her breath. Guy or Gregory?
The plastic slid sideways and down to the letter R.
Ivy watched, nerves tingling.
E…G…O…R…Y…
ʺGregory,ʺ Ivy mouthed.
I…S…
ʺIs,ʺ she said softly, but Beth, deep in a trance, didnʹt hear.
H…
ʺStop it!ʺ Ivy cried out.
E…
ʺStop it, Beth!ʺ
R…
ʺStop it now!ʹʹ