“Well, Ivy . . .” Grant paused.
Kaine waited expectantly. Grant cocked his head to the right. He was doing that studying thing again.
“Yes?” she pressed.
Grant shook his head slowly. “You really don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
“Ivy was the second woman found at Foster Hill House. She was attacked and left for dead. That was what made her a legend here in Oakwood.”
Chapter 10
Joy was perched on a stool behind the counter at the station when Kaine entered. The cheesehead from their previous encounter had been replaced with a faux ruby-studded tiara. With her navy blue blouse and gaudy pearl necklace, Joy gave the appearance of someone past her prime playing dress-up with toddler princesses. Kaine envied the older woman and her unabashed identity.
“Kaine!” She slid off the stool and surged around the counter.
Before Kaine could react, her face was pulled into Joy’s shoulder, and she was embraced in a motherly hug of concern.
“You’re all right!”
“Mppfff . . .” Kaine tried to answer, but could only breathe in the flowery scent of Joy’s laundry detergent.
“Oh dear.” Joy pulled away. “I’m suffocating you.” She released Kaine and stepped back a few feet. “But, oh my, you had me worried. That creepy old house, and you in it, alone.”
Worried? Kaine hadn’t expected Joy to waste her time fretting over a perfect stranger. She couldn’t deny it felt nice, though, to know someone here in Oakwood cared.
“I’m fine.” Kaine didn’t want to burden Joy. “I’m staying at the motel.”
“Oh, good.” Joy smiled and waved a hand adorned with a fake ruby ring. “That motel is so old-fashioned. They don’t even have keycards! But it’s clean and welcoming.”
Kaine laughed in spite of her day. The massive blue plastic keychain emblazed with the number four for her room took up way too much space in her purse
“It is clean.” And it felt safe. For now.
“That it is. I’ll sleep better knowing you’re not fighting off evil spirits in that old place.” Joy’s concern soothed Kaine’s frayed nerves. Grant’s revelation about her great-great-grandmother Ivy Thorpe sent Kaine’s mind wandering in a direction she didn’t like. Ivy was linked directly to the house she’d purchased—she had almost been murdered there, shortly after the mysterious young woman. Grant had told her that history recorded the dead woman as Gabriella. Kaine hadn’t wanted a name, even a nickname, associated with the story of a murder victim. But, unfortunately, now there was one, and Gabriella rang through her mind repeatedly, alongside Danny’s name.
“No. No evil spirits.” Kaine swallowed the familiar rise of panic in her throat. Just evil people. A person, actually.
“Well,” Joy said, toying with her pearls, “anyone who spends more than a night in that haunted house would need to be examined for sanity.”
“It’s not haunted.” Kaine’s thoughts swooped to Danny’s picture propped in the middle of the abandoned bedroom. No, not haunted. Worse. “Has—has Megan maybe been wandering over to the house again?” It had been the second crazy impulse of the day. First, adopting Olive, and now swinging into the gas station with the vague hope that somehow she could find a reason to explain away the intrusion of her nightmare into her fledgling peace. But she knew, even as she asked, that Megan wouldn’t have the slightest clue where to find a picture of Danny, and zero motivation to place it in the bedroom.
“Oh no. Has something happened?”
“Um, just a picture from the internet of a family member of mine. It was in the house, and if it was from Megan, that’s okay, I just—”
“Got a little jumpy?” Joy supplied.
That was an understatement. “Yeah.” Certainly. Jumpy.
Joy’s drawn-on eyebrows dipped into a befuddled V between her eyes. “I don’t see how Megan would know to do that, or why she would. But I can ask.” She turned toward a back room, speaking over her shoulder as she walked. “I had to bring Megan to work today. Grant had things to do, and my other options aren’t that great.”
Calling for Megan, Joy waited. Kaine regretted stopping by the gas station. There was no explaining the picture away, and she hated pinning even a suggestion of blame on Megan. A few seconds later, a young woman with Down syndrome shuffled out from the back room. She was adorable for twenty-two. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, a large silk sunflower sticking out at the top of it. Megan was dressed in inexpensive but stylish jeans and a cute plaid shirt.
Joy reached for Megan, and Megan took her mother’s hand, a friendly smile stretching her rounded cheeks, reaching eyes that shone with spirit.
“Megan, honey.” Joy tucked a loose tendril of dark blond hair behind Megan’s ear. “This is Kaine.”
“Hi, Megan.” Kaine reached out her hand, and Megan took it as she offered a toothy grin. Kaine instantly wanted to be Megan’s best friend. She embodied life.
“Hi, Kaine!” She shook Kaine’s hand with exuberance.
“Honey, have you been back to Foster Hill House?” Joy straightened her daughter’s collar. Megan stared at her mother, as if attempting to judge whether she was in trouble.
“Since the daffodils, sweetie,” Joy added.
Megan glanced at Kaine, and honesty oozed from the girl’s sweet blue eyes. “No. Mama, you told me no and I obeyed.”
“Thank you, sweetie.” Joy rested her hand on Megan’s shoulder, and they both turned to Kaine expectantly.
She had known the answer before Joy ever asked Megan. But this confirmation robbed Kaine of her last sliver of irrational hope. The truth slammed into her with force equal to when she’d first found the picture.
He had followed her here and found out she’d bought Foster Hill House. A house that hid mysteries about Gabriella and Great-Great-Grandmother Ivy that were still unsolved. A house with a history of violence. A house that seemed to promise more to come.
Chapter 11
Jvy
Joel’s incessant pacing made Ivy nervous. He marched from one end of the room to the other in the front parlor of Foster Hill House. The piano mocked them from the corner, its cleanliness once again emphasizing that the house was not as abandoned as most believed. Ivy could see Joel’s mind churning with possible explanations and many unanswered questions.
She still held the scrap of material from Gabriella’s dress, rubbing it back and forth between her index, middle finger, and thumb. But her focus was on the piano music. While a conversation from long ago flooded her memory, she was reluctant to bring it up. Especially with Joel, who would share the memory. It would only bring life to the past neither of them had mentioned.
Joel stopped before the piano, his hands at his waist and his coat shoved back. He stared down at the keys, then his hand reached out and a finger followed the notes on the yellowed sheet music. His shoulders raised in a deep sigh, and when he spoke, he didn’t turn around.