He leaned close to her and lowered his voice. 'She said she hopes you're not doing drugs in there.' His mouth twisted up in a grin.
'I'm sure you set her straight,' Ivy replied.He laughed, and she walked past him.
At the top of the steps she pulled the key out of her purse. When she pushed open her bedroom door, she expected the captive Ella to spring out.
'Ella?' She stepped inside the room. 'Ella?'
She saw a round lump beneath the quilt on her bed. Ivy dropped her books by the side of the bed, then pulled back the cover. Ella was huddled in a tight ball.
Touching the cat gently, Ivy rubbed her with one finger in her favorite spot around her ears, then stroked her, studying the bare strip on her side. The scratches were beginning to heal.
'You look so frightened, Ella.'
The cat slowly got to its feet and limped to the edge of the bed. Ivy quickly reached for her, picking up the paw Ella wouldn't use.
'Oh, my God!' The pink pads on the bottom were pricked and striped with dark blood. When she touched them, they oozed fresh red beneath their drying crust. Ivy scooped the cat up in her shaking arms and huddled over her.
'Oh, Ella, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.' She laid her face on Ella's fur, hot tears rolling down. 'I locked the door-both doors. I'd never have left you if I thought he could get in.'
How did he get in? Ivy wondered. Her bedroom had been his once, so perhaps he had another key.
Tonight she'd sleep with furniture against the doors. 'Tomorrow when I'm at school, I'll keep you in the car,' she promised Ella.
She got up and closed her bedroom door, wondering if Gregory had been lurking outside and enjoying the scene. After cleaning Ella's foot and side, Ivy cuddled her for a long time. The cat purred a little, slowly closing her eyes.
When Ella was sound asleep, Ivy gently laid her in bed. As soon as she put the cat down, her hands began to shake again. She picked up a sturdy chair and positioned it under the knob of the hallway door. After making certain it was secure, she undressed. Maybe a long, hot shower would calm her down.
Ivy locked the door between the bathroom and Philip's room, then switched on the shower radio and turned on the water full blast. For the first ten minutes she was able to push everything out of her mind but the music.
But troubled thoughts kept circling at the edge. The wet string with the key hanging on it rubbed against her neck. Ivy squeezed her eyes shut, but she kept seeing images of wheels and hand printed words, the words of the blackmail note.
At last she shut off the shower and stood still and dripping in the tub.
She wondered if Tristan missed the feel of water running over his body.
She missed the touch of Tristan. She tried to recall it, but her mind kept jumping back to Will. She focused on Tristan's face, but her mind remembered how it had felt when Will held her hand the day they went back to the train station. She tried to remember how Tristan's hand looked resting on hers, but again she felt Will's touch when he had reached to get the mud out of her hair, when he had laid his hand on hers at lunch to make her look at him.
Ivy thrust aside the shower curtain and stepped out of the tub. Instantly her foot stung as if a hundred small needles had been jabbed in it. She fell back against the tub. Steadying herself, she sat on the edge and gingerly lifted her foot to examine it Splinters of glass protruded from her foot and sparkled on the bath mat Ivy's mind raced, and she rocked back and forth, holding on to her ankle, squeezing it hard. Then she calmed herself and began to pick the glass out of her foot, removing all she could with her hands. After folding over the glass-covered bath mat and setting it aside, she checked the floor, then hopped to the cupboard to get a pair of tweezers.
None of the glass had gone in deeply. It was just enough to make her sore-just enough to rattle her. Ivy made herself work calmly and methodically, then she put on her robe and lifted her foot to look at it again. It was striped and dotted with droplets of blood-just like Ella's.
Suddenly Ivy sank down on the floor. She drew her knees up to her chest.
'Tristan!' she cried out. 'Tristan, please come! I need you.' She began to sob uncontrollably. 'Tristan!
Don't leave me alone now. I need you! Where are you? Please, Tristan!'
But he did not come. At last Ivy's sobs softened, her shoulders grew still, and she cried slow, silent tears.
'Aa-hmm.'
It was the sound of someone clearing her throat.
'Aa-hmm.'
Ivy glanced up and saw a purple mist in front of the vanity mirror.
'I don't know where he is,' Lacey said in a brisk, businesslike tone.
Then the shimmering purple moved closer to Ivy.
Ivy tried to blink back the tears, but they kept coming. A tissue was plucked from the box and hung in the air in front of her, waiting to be taken.
'Thanks… Lacey.'
'You look terrible when you cry,' Lacey said, and Ivy heard the pleasure she took in that observation.
Ivy nodded, wiped her eyes, then blew her nose hard. 'I guess you looked pretty good,' she said. 'Movie stars always do.'
'But I never cried.'
'Oh.'
'Never sigh, never cry,' Lacey boasted. 'That was my rule.'
'And you kept it?'
'During my life I did,' Lacey replied.
Ivy heard the small catch in Lacey's voice. She reached out, accepting another tissue, then asked, 'How about now?'
'None of your business,' Lacey told her. 'Let me see your foot.'
”Ivy obediently held it up. She felt the tips of fingers gently probing it.
'Does it hurt much?'
'It'll be all right.' Ivy lowered her foot and stood up, putting her weight on it slowly. It hurt a lot more than she wanted to admit.
'Actually, I'm more worried about Ella. Her paw has been cut up.' Ivy told Lacey about the fur that had been shaved from Ella and the lock of her own hair that had been clipped. 'By Gregory, I'm sure.'
'What a clever guy,' Lacey remarked sarcastically. 'I guess you got his message: What happens to Ella will happen to you.'
Ivy swallowed hard and nodded. 'Did you look for Tristan?'
'At Caroline's house. At Will's. At his graveyard condo. He's nowhere-maybe in the darkness again.'
Lacey sighed, then caught herself doing that and tried to pretend she was clearing her throat again.
'You're worried,' Ivy said, opening the door and leading the way into her bedroom.
'About Tristan? Never.' The purple mist passed Ivy and stretched out on the pillows across the top of her bed.
'You're worried. I can hear it in your voice,' Ivy insisted.
'I'm worried he'll fly off somewhere and I'll get stuck with his job,' Lacey retorted.
Ivy sat down on the bed, and Ella raised her head. 'It was nice of you to come when you knew I needed help.'
'I didn't come for you.'
'I know,' Ivy said.
'You_ know,'I Lacey mocked. The purple shimmer sprang from the pillow like the glimmering ghost of a cat. 'And just what0 do you think you know?'
