“No one knows Mina is here. She hasn’t been outside. I’ll do everything I can to protect her.”
“I hate asking-”
Marti showed a rare irritation. “Ask, and you shall receive,” she quoted.
“Don’t-if God cared, Jocelyn would be alive. She never hurt anyone, she was only trying to help
She turned and started to leave the small, simple church.
Mina stood in the back.
“You don’t have to come back for me,” she said. “I’m okay.”
Tears threatened, but Ivy wasn’t going to cry. “I promised to take care of you, even after I rescued Sara. I promise I’ll come back.”
She shook her head. “You only had two passports.”
“I was working on getting yours.”
“It’s okay, Ivy.”
“You have to believe I care about you!”
“Sara’s your sister.”
Ivy strode over and hugged Mina. “So are you. In my heart. I’m not leaving you in DC. You’re coming to Canada with me. I just need to get the money, I already have three passports lined up.”
Marti said, “I have some money.”
“I can’t take your money.”
“It’s not enough, but it will help.”
Ivy squeezed her eyes shut, nodded her head once. “We’ll talk tonight.” She hugged Mina again and left.
Hawthorne Street was six blocks over. Ivy went the long way, through alleys, staying off the main streets. Truly, she didn’t know who was trying to kill her, and that made everyone a potential killer.
Ivy knew Mrs. Neel kept cash in a wall safe in her house. She also knew, because of Mina, that Mrs. Neel never remembered her password, so had written it in her address book, which was in her top desk drawer.
It was probably not enough, but it was something, and she would make it work.
She didn’t want to steal from the old woman, but she’d leave a note, promise to pay her back. Mrs. Neel had been so kind to them. Ivy already missed the house, the neighborhood, the small sense of peace.
No time for regrets.
If she had to, she’d sell her body to ten guys tonight, give blow jobs to a hundred, if that was what it took to raise the money to go to Canada.
Ivy came at Mrs. Neel’s house from the narrow alley that backed up to the rear yard. She kept hidden as best she could along the side of the garage, but she’d have to cross the driveway to reach the house.
Voices came from the front porch, and Ivy feared she’d have to wait. She didn’t have time. She peered around the corner and saw the back of a woman with long, dark hair pulled back, dressed professionally in slacks and a thin blouse. Cop? Arson investigator? Ivy didn’t see any law enforcement vehicles on the street, but she only had a partial view of the road.
Mrs. Neel seemed occupied, and the desk was in the back of the house, far from the front door. She had to take the risk.
Without giving herself time to change her mind, Ivy slipped in through the back door, using the key that Mrs. Neel had given Mina for emergencies. Guilt made her head ache, but she had no other choice.
She heard the voices, but not what was being said. Without hesitating, she flipped the address book over, memorized the passcode, and carefully took off the picture frame from the wall. She typed in the numbers, heard a click, and the light turned from red to green.
Her heart started beating again.
There were a lot of papers-insurance, bank statements, tax records, and for a moment Ivy feared Mrs. Neel had no cash.
Then she found the white, business-sized envelope.
She had no idea how much was inside, but she put it down her shorts, closed the safe, put the picture back, and slipped out of the house.
She’d been inside for less than four minutes.
The woman was still on the front porch, and down the long driveway, a black woman was talking to her next-door neighbor.
They had to be cops.
Almost at the same time, a dark blue van turned down the street. The driver wore a ball cap, but there was something familiar about him.
She’d seen him with Wendy many times.
What did Wendy call him? Dumb and Dumber. He had a brother. She called the two of them Dumb and Dumber, said they were her partners, but she ridiculed them.
But that was so long ago. Why was he here?
Did he have a hand in Wendy’s death? He shouldn’t even know where Ivy lived! Did Wendy tell him? Did Wendy hate her so much that she sent a killer after her?
Ivy didn’t believe it. They had a major disagreement, but Wendy wasn’t violent. And Wendy was dead.
Had the killer tortured the information out of her?
Ivy had to keep her wits about her. She’d run-but not to Marti’s church or St. Anne’s. She had to go far away, turn the attention away from her sister and Mina.
She wished Kerry had gotten in contact with her-she needed to be warned. But it had been three days and total silence.
What if she and Bryn were already dead?
A cry escaped Ivy’s chest and she swallowed it, the lump sticking like unchewed steak in her throat.
She squatted behind the shed, hoping he was gone. Waited. But she was nervous and antsy and couldn’t just sit here waiting for Dumb or Dumber to find her.
Wendy was obviously wrong about their intellect if they could kill so many people and not get caught.
She started across the backyard, but moved too fast. Or too slow.
The woman at the door caught her eye.
Ivy sprinted to the fence sealed it quickly. Then she and saw Dumb’s van again. He grinned at her, pointed his finger like a gun.
Ivy ran faster.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Lucy ran across the street to Genie’s car. “Genie! I think I saw Ivy!”
Genie ran down the sidewalk and jumped into the driver’s seat while Lucy ran around to the passenger side. Genie called in the pursuit of a subject on foot, and Lucy directed her around the corner.
“She jumped over the back fence.”
Genie squealed around the corner and turned down the alley. It was much harder to pursue a suspect on foot while driving.
“Do you see her?” Genie asked. Lucy was scouring the area, looking around the Dumpsters and garbage cans and through cracks in the fence.
“Dammit!”
“I’ll go down the next alley, then go around wide, backup is on its way.”
Genie crossed a two-lane street and drove into the adjoining alley. She slammed on her brakes when a woman darted out in front of her car.
It was definitely Ivy. She looked over her shoulder, terror etched in her face, then back at Lucy.
Lucy shouted, “Get in!” and manually unlocked the back door.
Ivy was obviously torn, but another glance behind her had her running around the car. She grabbed the door handle, pulled it open, and jumped into the backseat, keeping her head low. Before she’d even closed the door, she
