The House on Foster Hill

“We need to go to the police and file a report.” Grant was definitive, and his expression emphasized the urgency behind his statement.

Kaine stared out the bedroom doorway and locked eyes with the dead woman in the painting. Lines drew her face downward, as if circumstances had made her appear older and more worn than her age warranted. Had she fought through adversity, abuse, even fear? Kaine shook her head to clear her thoughts. It didn’t matter who she was. What mattered was who Kaine was. She wasn’t ready to give up the fight . . . not yet.





Chapter 21

Jvy



Ivy curled her fingers around the edge of the church pew in front of her. Her starched dress of blue damask was as stiff as her back. She hadn’t been fond of church or God since Andrew’s death. Now, with her mounting passion to uncover the truth behind Gabriella’s life and the fate of her baby, Ivy could hardly stand still. She glanced across the aisle at Joel. How could he be so focused on church when Gabriella’s child could be out there somewhere?

The church organ droned out “Near to the Heart of God,” and Ivy winced. She hadn’t been near to God’s heart for many years. The longer time marched on and stole more lives from the earth, the more it solidified Ivy’s inability to find hope in the shadow of death. Her father had suggested many times that Ivy escape the life of his assistant so she could cease witnessing the passing of so many souls. Even under medical ministrations, and in spite of her father’s expert care, the grave conquered souls. With death came the certainty that life would always be a mere breath of hopeful continuance. A hope that would be snuffed out in the end.

Turning away from her dismal thoughts, Ivy released a sigh of relief when the warbling of the congregation stopped and the reverend prayed the benediction. Her father preceded her in front of their pew and nodded at a few fellow churchgoers. Ivy met Joel in the aisle as they exited, the echo of their footsteps muffled by the green velvet carpet beneath their feet.

“I expect you’ll be at home this afternoon?” Joel spoke with congeniality, but Ivy knew his question was laced with more than one meaning.

“My father prefers to take his afternoon naps in solitude.” She avoided a direct answer and slipped her purse over her wrist, its gold cord wrapping around her white glove.

Joel nodded to a few community members, but commented out of the side of his mouth, “Perhaps a nap would suit you as well, considering your need to continue recovering from your attack.”

“So true.” Ivy smirked. “Were I a broken porcelain doll freshly glued back together.”

They reached the reverend. He shook hands heartily with Ivy’s father, who gave her a backward glance as he exited the church. Joel greeted the man of God with polite respect and a murmured, “Wonderful message.” Ivy rested her gloved hand in the minister’s briefly and dipped in a slight curtsy. She had no words of acknowledgment for him. She’d not been moved by his message at all, and her conscience pricked with guilt.

The cool air of the spring morning blew against her face. Ivy adjusted the pin in her hat, ensuring it wouldn’t blow off in the March gusts, and wrapped her scarf around her neck.

“Ivy.”

Oh goodness. Joel again.

“May I come calling this afternoon?”

“Calling?” Ivy’s eyebrows lifted. Certainly not in a romantic sense? Her increased heartbeat betrayed her fa?ade of indifference.

“Because you refused me your companionship last night? Beneath your window?”

They both noticed the sharp glance they garnered from a couple passing by. Red crept up his neck, and she was certain her cheeks matched.

Joel gripped her upper arm with a light grasp and leaned in to whisper in her ear, his breath warming her neck. “We’ve yet to turn up any clues to the baby’s whereabouts or to Gabriella’s killer, but I need to be certain you bite your tongue regarding the infant. No more inquiring at places like the orphanage or elsewhere. The last thing we need is for rumors to spread that Gabriella’s baby is still alive, even if the odds are slight. You might endanger it if Gabriella’s killer for some reason has the child. If they believe we are still searching, they could—hasten the baby’s death.”

Dread crept through Ivy. The kind of dread that paled her face and made her hands clammy inside her gloves. The idea had never crossed her mind—she’d never thought that maybe the person who had snatched Gabriella’s life may have taken the baby. She jerked her arm away from Joel, averting her eyes.

“Ivy? What did you do?” Joel read the question on her mind. What had she done indeed!

Ivy lifted her chin, and felt it quiver with shame. “I was only inquiring in case there was something someone knew and they simply weren’t speaking up. You know the newspaper is often privy to anonymous tips. I thought perhaps someone had found a baby, or had a clue, or—”

“You spoke to the Herald about the baby?” Joel’s shoulders stiffened. A hint of disbelief tilted his mouth. “Have you considered the ramifications of that getting publicized? Did it not cross your mind there was a reason Sheriff Dunst and I had not taken the same question to the paper?”

Of course she had. The ramifications of it not being published could also cost the baby its life. It was a gamble either way. She caught the fury in Joel’s eyes. It hadn’t been her gamble to take.

“You must put some faith in Sheriff Dunst and myself! We are not inept.” Joel snapped his mouth shut as a parishioner stopped to shake his hand. Ivy waited. Joel lowered his voice again after the man moved on. “Perhaps you should also consider, Ivy, that if you insist that baby is alive—who the sheriff and I are allowing the public to think is deceased—you will be branded as some superstitious spinster who thinks herself in touch with the dead.”

“How is my reputation more important than the life of an infant?” Ivy really wasn’t trying to challenge his reasoning so much as justify the urgency behind her actions. The nightmarish thoughts of Gabriella’s missing baby consumed her, along with the ache that Gabriella had yet to be identified.

Joel waited as the reverend walked past with another couple. He watched them head off toward their carriage before turning his attention back to Ivy. His eyes snapped with fervor.

“You are linking yourself to Gabriella and her baby, and now, even more publicly. Whoever murdered the girl may have her baby and might be the man who already attacked you once and tried to a second time. He will come for you if he thinks you know who he is.”

Ivy said nothing. Words escaped her along with her breath. The truth behind Joel’s words sank deeper than anything he had said to this point. Her actions were potentially endangering the very child she was trying to rescue, and most assuredly putting herself directly in the eye of the killer himself.

“So, will you listen to me? Please?” Joel pleaded.

Ivy could only nod. Though she hadn’t trusted Joel for twelve long years, it appeared she might have to begin again.





Chapter 22

Kaine

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