Free Everlasting by Elizabeth Chandler

took her face gently in his hands. “Listen to me, love. Between here and ‘miles away’ there are bridges and tolls—there are cameras everywhere. Officer Donovan warned you that I’d come back, and she’ll check on you. Ifthe police find you’ve left the Cape, they’ll check your home, then put out a bulletin.”
    Tears ran down Ivy’s cheeks. He pressed his cheek against hers, as if he could stop them.
    “Tristan, if Luke’s murderer finds you, I—I couldn’t survive having you die twice.”
    “And if Gregory destroys your life, how could I survive that?”
    She buried her face in his shoulder.
    “Let’s think it through. There must be a place. Is there another park on the Cape?”
    “The national park or any place farther along the Cape is too open, and going in the other direction. . . . The church!”
    He almost laughed, but afraid he’d hurt her feelings, said gently, “I don’t think Father John’s going to welcome me back.”
    “Another church, a small one, about three miles from here. A group is raising money to restore it as a community arts center, but the grass is long, and no one seems to be around. One of the basement windows can be opened—Will was there the other day taking pictures.”
    “What if Will comes back?”
    “You could fix the window with the broken latch, put a piece of wood in it so he can’t open it. If someone unlocked the front door and entered that way, you would probably hear it and have time to escape through the basement.”
    “Can you give me directions?”
    “I’ll drive you,” she said.
    “Better for me to walk there later tonight.”
    She began to shake her head.
    “Ivy, we don’t want a little white Volkswagen to be seen near the church.”
    She nodded solemnly, then looked into his eyes.
    They had had so little time together, he thought, for sharing the simple happiness of walking side by side, exploring a summer night, and being in each other’s arms. It would have been better for her if she had never loved him.
    “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but it’s wrong,” Ivy said, then held him tightly until they both knew it was time to part.
    WHEN IVY ARRIVED HOME FRIDAY NIGHT, ONLY DUSTY was there to greet her. Hoping to find out more about Luke’s life so she could figure out who might want him dead, Ivy opened her laptop on the kitchen table and typed in “River Gardens Providence.” A map of the neighborhood came up and, after studying it for several minutes, she sent it to her cell phone. A survey of the other Google entries revealed a hair salon, barbershop, two liquor stores, several bars, and an elementary and middle school that bore the neighborhood’s name. But most of the entries were articles she had read a week ago about the death of Corinne Santori.Two photos ran with the articles, both showing a striking nineteen-year-old girl with dark hair and dark eyes. According to the articles, she and Luke McKenna had gone through school together, but Luke had dropped out at sixteen. Friends said they were secretly engaged, until Corinne ended the relationship in February, two months before she was murdered.
    Ivy was amazed that Luke and Corinne had stayed together as long as they did. Having finished high school, Corinne attended art school to study photography, had a job in a camera shop, and had gotten her own apartment, away from River Gardens. But Luke appeared to be trapped in a downward spiral with underage drinking, two DUIs, and an assault outside a bar on his record, although charges for the latter were dropped. Maybe Corinne had felt sorry for him, Ivy reasoned. Or maybe she had been afraid of the violent streak in him, too afraid to break it off.
    The cottage’s screen door banged back and Ivy quickly clicked out of her search and into her e-mail. “Hey,” she called out.
    There was no response. Dusty, who had been snoozing on one of the kitchen chairs, stood up and looked toward the living room, nose twitching.
    “Beth?