Free The Power of Love by Elizabeth Chandler Page B

glowing like embers.
    “Who was it, Ella?” Tristan asked. “You’re the only one who saw it. Who did this?”
    Will left the room and came back with an icepack.
    Gregory held it gently against Ivy’s head. “I’m here. Everything’s going to be all right,” he said over and over, continually rubbing her back and soothing her.
    Before long they heard the whine of a siren. A police car swung into the driveway, followed unexpectedly by another car. Andrew’s.
    “What happened?” Andrew cried, rushing into the house with the officers. “Ivy, are you all right?”
    He looked at the broken window, then at Will, and finally turned his attention to Gregory. “Why are you here?” he asked. “You’re supposed to be with Maggie and Philip.”
    “Why are you? ” Gregory asked back.
    Andrew glanced quickly at the police, then gestured toward his desk, “I left some papers behind, some reports I wanted to work on at the lake.”
    “I came because Ivy called me,” Gregory said. “I’d told her earlier today that she should call me if she needed anything.” He gazed down at her. Ivy met his eyes with a puzzled expression.
    “It was you who called me, wasn’t it?” he asked.
    “No.”
    Gregory looked surprised, then squeezed her hands hard and dropped them. “Whew,” he said softly. “You owe somebody big time.”
    He turned to the others. “When we got to the lake, I had to run out to the store. Maggie had remembered everything for our trip, except toilet paper.
    “When I returned, the man at the lodge said someone had called three times, asking for me, but didn’t leave a message. I figured it was Ivy. It’s been rough for her lately—you know that,” he said, appealing to his father. “I didn’t waste any time. I came right home.”
    “Lucky girl,” remarked one of the police officers.
    The police began to ask questions then. Tristan moved slowly around the room, studying faces and reading what the police were scribbling down.
    Was it jealousy that he felt every time he saw Gregory touch Ivy? Or was it some kind of intuition? he wondered. Was Ivy really safe in Gregory’s arms?
    Had Gregory told Eric that Ivy would be alone all weekend? If Eric was responsible for this, would Gregory cover for him?
    And why had Gregory questioned his father? Did he think Andrew’s excuse for returning to the house was a little too convenient?
    The police stayed a long time that afternoon and asked lots of questions, but it seemed to Tristan they were all the wrong ones.

7

    When Ivy answered the door on Tuesday morning, she knew that Beth had read the local paper. Her friend stepped inside with a quick, shy “How’re you doing?” She hugged Ivy, nearly squeezing the breath out of her, then backed off, blushing.
    “I’ fine,” said Ivy. “I’m really fine.”
    “Are you?” Beth looked like a worried mother owl, her eyes wide, her frosted hair falling out of its knot in soft feathers. She stared at Ivy’s bruised cheek.
    “It’s the newest thing since tattoos,” Ivy said, smiling and touching her face lightly.
    “Your face looks like … a pansy.”
    Ivy laughed. “Purple and yellow. I’m going to look great for the festival. You got anything that matches?”
    Beth tried to smile, but ended up biting her lip.
    “Come on back,” Ivy said, leading her to the kitchen. “Let’s get something to drink. We have to stick around here for a few minutes. I’m getting interviewed for the third time.”
    “By a newspaper?”
    “By the police.”
    “The police! Ivy, did you tell them—” Beth hesitated.
    “Tell them what?”
    “About the computer messages,” Beth said quietly.
    “No.” Ivy pulled out a bar stool for Beth to sit on. “Why should I? It was nothing more than a strange coincidence. You were just fooling around and—”
    The look in Beth’s eyes stopped her. “I wasn’t fooling around.”
    Ivy shrugged a little, then measured out some coffee beans. Since Friday evening she had