Evercrossed kbaa-4 Read online

  ʺLet go,ʹ she said.

  They stood side by side on the step, and after a moment, she took a step higher to even out their height.

  ʺFeeling better, I see,ʺ he said dryly. ʺAnd you,ʺ she answered lightly, ʺfeeling as antisocial as ever.ʺ

  His eyes traveled down her, and she became acutely aware of her tight jeans and oversize shirt Determined not to appear self‐conscious, she gazed back at him steadily. He was clean shaven today and wore a pair of tattered jeans, old shoes, and a terry‐cloth robe that was about ft foot and a half too short for him, ʺNice seeing you — and not talking — again,ʺ Ivy said, starting down the steps.

  “Do you have a car?”

  She turned around, surprised by the question. ʺYes. Why?ʺ

  ʺI need a ride.”

  “A ride now? Where?ʺ

  “Not far,” he replied casually. “The next town over.” Ivy cocked her head.

  ʺProvidence,ʺ he said. ʺProvidence is the next state over,” Ivy told him.

  ʺWherever,ʺ he replied gruffly. ʺJust get me out of here.ʺ In the fluorescent light, his bruised skin looked grayish green. ʺSony,ʺ Ivy said. ʺI donʹt know what kind of medical problems you have — other than amnesia and—ʺ

  “Iʹve never been better.” He started down the steps toward her.

  ʺAndyʹs looking for you.ʺ To hell with Andy. To hell with all of them!ʺ he exploded. Ivy stayed calm but moved quickly down the stairs, trying to stay ahead of him without triggering a chase that she was sure to lose. ʺTheyʹll let you out when you are well.ʺ

  ʺI canʹt wait that long!ʺ She reached the door marked Level 2 and pushed against it. It didnʹt budge. She pushed again.

  He smirked. ʺAlready tried that. Iʹve tried them all.ʺ He walked steadily down the steps toward her. ʺThe only one mat opens onto a floor is Level G.ʺ

  Ivy hurried down the steps, hesitating at the door to Level 1, men continuing past it. The guy quickly closed the gap between them, catching her from behind, turning her toward him and backing her against the wall. ʺGet out your keys.ʺ

  ʺWhy do you want to leave?ʺ she asked.

  ʺHand them over,ʺ he demanded.

  ʺYou donʹt even know why/ʹ she guessed. ʺYou have no idea what youʹre doing or where youʹre going!ʺ Releasing her, he took a step back. This was her chance to get away, but something sheʹd glimpsed in his eyes held her there.

  He sat down slowly on the concrete steps, then dropped his head in his hands.

  ʺWhatʹs going on?ʺ Ivy asked in a gentler voice. He shook his head. ʺI donʹt know. I just know I have to get away. Somebodyʹs after me, and Iʹve got to get away.ʺ

  Ivy moved several steps below him and sat down. She saw that his forearms were badly bruised, as was the side of his head, close to his left ear. A long cut scored his neck, just beneath his jaw. There was more to his story than being found unconscious on a beach or saved from drowning; heʹd been beaten upbadly.

  If he was in serious trouble, sheʹd be crazy to get involved. For all she knew, he remembered what had happened to him but didnʹt want to admit it because he was to blame.

  Ivy began to rise, men stopped. What if he did have to get away — what if someone was hunting him down? All he was asking was for a way to leave the hospital. Ivyʹs instinct was to help. Then again, when first dealing with Gregory, she had trusted her instincts, and sheʹd been dead wrong.

  ʺWhat have they told you about your condition?ʺ she asked. He shrugged her off. ʺIt doesnʹt matter.ʺ

  ʺAnswer my question.ʺ Sighing, he complied. ʺThere was water in my lungs.

  Obviously Iʹve been beaten up. I have a head injury. The brain scans indicate that the memory loss isnʹt physical.ʺ He glanced away. ʺThey had me talk with a psychiatrist — if itʹs not physical, it must be mental, right?ʺ

  ʺPossibly,ʺ Ivy said, feeling for him, remembering how she blocked out Tristanʹs death and how the ʺaccidentʺ had come back to her bit by bit in horrifying nightmares. His eyes met hers. ʺIf s happened to you. That’ s what you meant the other day, when you said mat remembering was as painful as not.ʺ

  She nodded, wishing she could assure him that things would get better, but her situation was different from his. Sheʹd had Will, Beth, her mom, and Philipʹs care, and the enduring love of Tristan to get her through. What did he have?

  ʺWhatʹs your name?ʺ she asked. ʺMy memory problem must be contagious/ʹ he replied. ʺHow would I know?ʺ

  ʺYou said you didnʹt remember how you ended up hurt. You didnʹt tell me what you do remember.ʺ His smile was more of a smirk. ʺThe hospital staff calls me ʹGuy.ʹ ʹGuy Unknownʹ is what theyʹve entered in the computer, which, I guess, is one step better than John Doe.ʺ

  ʺWhat should I call you?ʺ

  ʺWhat would you normally call someone who pushes you against the wall and demands your keys? Something stronger than jerk, I think.ʺ Then he stood up and descended the steps, stopping one step lower than hers, as if he had remembered that she had wanted to look him straight in the eye. ʺI have to get out of here. If s the one thing I know, the only thing Iʹm sure of.ʺ

  His dark blue eyes pleaded with her, and Ivy had to pull her eyes away to think clearly. ʺYouʹre going to have a hard time getting past a security guard in that bathrobe.ʺ

  He tugged at the hem. ʺAndy lent it to me so I wouldnʹt walk the halls and moon people.ʺ Ivy laughed. ʺOkay,ʺ she said, making up her mind. ʺTake it off.ʺ

  ʺWhat?ʺ

  ʺTake off the robe,ʺ she told him, then tried not to stare at the power in his upper body or the bruises that colored it. ʺNow turn around. Face away from me.ʺ

  ʺWhy?ʺ

  ʺWeʹre trading.ʺ When he had turned, she removed her oversize shirt and draped it over his shoulder. ʺReady,ʺ she said, after putting on the robe.

  He turned back, wearing her shirt, grinning at her. She had been right: lit with a smile, his face was the kind to break a girlʹs heart.

  ʺIt’ll do,ʺ she said. The words Stonehill High stretched across his chest and the shoulder seams were pulled tight, but he was less conspicuous in that than in the short robe.

  ʺIf thereʹs no security guard, weʹll just walk across the lobby like weʹre doing nothing wrong,ʺ Ivy instructed him. ʺIf we get stopped, Iʹm the patient and youʹre the person who has come to pick me up. We tell them that we got tired of waiting for Transportation to bring us a wheelchair — they make you leave in one.ʺ ʺRight.ʺ

  Ivy reached in her purse for the rental key. She wondered what Beth and Will would say if she told them about this. Then she wondered if her auto insurance covered carjacking.

  ʺSo if someone asks, am I your boyfriend?ʺ

  ʺBrother,ʺ Ivy answered quickly. Guy smiled, as if amused by her answer, then started down the steps. He pushed open the door on the ground level and strode confidently into the lobby. He seemed so at ease. Ivy wondered how much experience heʹd had at faking it.

  They were halfway across the lobby when someone stopped them.

  ʺMiss, do you need assistance?ʺ As friendly as the voice had sounded, when Ivy turned around, she saw that the security guard was carefully assessing her and Guy. ʺNo, not at all.ʺ "Are you a patient?ʺ ʺI was.ʺ Ivy answered truthfully. ʺDo you have discharge papers?ʺ ʺOf course.ʺ She opened her purse and pulled them out, glad that she had written the hospital directions and her appointment time on her discharge papers. She hoped the guard wouldnʹt notice the date.

  Recognizing the forms, the guard waved aside the papers. To Guy he said, ʺShe should have a wheelchair, and you need to bring the car to the curb to pick her up. Hospital policy.ʺ

  ʺOkay,ʺ Guy replied. ʺStay here, Isabel.ʺ Isabel? She tried not to laugh. He fetched a wheelchair that had been left by the elevator. As Ivy sat down, the guard received a call on his radio. ʺWhatʹs the patientʹs description?ʺ the guard asked. ʺTall, sandy‐colored hair—“

  ʺHang on, Izzy!ʺ

  Guy pushed the chair toward the front door so fast Ivy thought
they were going to crash into the plate glass. ʺWhoa!ʺ she cried as the glass slid back just in time and they shot through the opening. They flew past another occupied chair, across the concrete plaza, and onto the asphalt. ʺWait, wait!ʺ Ivy cried.

  ʺCanʹt wait. Which way?ʺ Guy shouted back. She pointed. He ran and pushed like a madman, dodging between two pars, then hanging a left, making her shut her eyes and cling to the chair arms.

  ʺSlow down, you crazy thing!ʺ But she was laughing now and he was, too, as they flew past a long row of cars to the end of the lot.

  ʺThe white cap she yelled. ʺBrake! Brake!ʺ He did — and nearly dumped her onto the trunk of the VW. Breathless, leaping from the chair. Ivy unlocked the car with two clicks. Slipping into the driverʹs seat, she tossed her release papers and purse in the back. Guy left the wheelchair on a patch of grass and hopped into the car.

  They drove away, laughing, the windows down and the wind in their hair.

  Nine

  ʺISABEL?ʺ IVY SAID WHEN THEY HAD STOPPED FOR A traffic light. ʺIs that what I look like to you?ʺ

  Guy peeked sideways at her. ʺIt seemed like a good name for a sister.ʺ

  Ivy drove on. Common sense would dictate that she take Route 28, a road with lots of beach traffic and people around, in case he wasnʹt trustworthy. Instead, succumbing to instinct — or insanity — she chose Route 6, a highway that ran the spine of Cape Cod and would quickly put distance between them and the hospital.

  ʺSo, whatʹs your name?ʺ he asked. ʺIvy.ʺ

  ʺIvy. Izzy — I wasnʹt too far off. But Ivy is better for a girlfriend.ʺ

  She didnʹt reply, telling herself that he wasnʹt flirting, and more important, that she didnʹt want him to. ʺWhere are we going. Ivy?ʺ ʺI havenʹt decided. It looks as if Andy cleaned you up pretty well.ʺ

  ʺAre you saying I looked raunchy?ʺ he replied, then his demeanor softened. ʺI donʹt know what I would have done without Andy.ʺ Ivy sighed. ʺI feel so guilty!

  “I hope we donʹt get him in trouble.”

  There was a long silence. ʺWell, nothing we can do about it now,ʺ she said, glancing toward Guy. ʺThose Nikes have seen better days.ʺ

  He lifted one foot and pulled back the shoe’s rubber sole, grinning at her.

  ʺIʹm taking the Dennis exit. Weʹre getting you new shoes and a shirt.ʺ

  ʺWe are? Are you any good at shoplifting?ʺ he asked. ʺIʹm buying,ʺ she replied.

  ʺNo,ʺ he said quickly. ʺYes,ʺ she insisted. ʺIvy, no. I donʹt want you to do anything more for me.ʺ Was this some kind of pride thing? she wondered. ʺWhat are you going to do about it?ʺ she asked aloud. ʺOpen the car door and get out? Iʹm going sixty.ʺ

  ʺSeventy,ʺ he corrected. She glanced at the speedometer and slowed down.

  Another long silence followed. She knew what he needed — his family, friends, and memories — but all she had to offer were things that money could buy.

  ʺDo you remember anything?ʺ she asked. ʺLike whether you live on Cape Cod or were just visiting?ʺ

  ʺI live here.ʺ His initial moment of hesitation tipped her off. ʺI see. That’ s why you thought Providence was the next town over, rather than the capital of Rhode Island.”

  Guy took a deep breath and let it out, as if she were trying his patience. ʺItʹs like this. Some things — names, a person, an object, even a smell— seem familiar, but I donʹt know how or why. As soon as I try to focus on what seems familiar, it slips away.ʺ ʺThatʹs hard.ʺ She heard Guy turn in his seat and was aware of him studying her; she kept her eyes on the road. ʺWas it like that for you?ʺ he asked.

  ʺYes — and no. I couldnʹt recall the crash, but I knew who I was when I woke up.

  And I knew what I had lost.ʺ

  ʺWhich was?ʺ he asked. She didnʹt answer. ʺHereʹs our exit.” Ivy drove a half mile along a two‐lane road bordered by a mix of deciduous trees and scrub pine, then turned into a lot serving a small strip of stores, where she and her mother had stopped a few days before. Between the shops of Wicker & Wood and Everything Cranberry was a store that sold sportswear. Ivy parked at the sandy edge of the lot, where the trees provided shade. Pulling the keys out of the ignition, she turned to Guy. ʺWhat do you think youʹll need to get by for a while?ʺ

  ʺI donʹt need anything from anyone.ʺ ʺA shirt, sweatshirt, and shorts,ʺ she went on, ʺsocks, shoes, underwear… a towel. What else?ʺ He stared straight ahead, his fists in his lap. Ivy reached for her purse in the back of the car. ʺListen, I know this doesnʹt solve any of the larger challenges youʹre facing, but itʹs a start.”

  Guy exploded. ʺMy larger challenges? You talk like a freaking psychiatrist!ʺ

  ʺWould you prefer that I call them unsolvable problems?ʺ

  ʺWouldnʹt that be more honest?ʹʹ

  ʺOnly if you think theyʹre unsolvable,ʺ she said. ʺNext youʹll be lecturing me on the twelve‐step program. Step one: admit you have a problem.ʺ

  ʺThatʹs a good beginning,ʺ she replied. He grimaced. ʺNot just the admitting part. It tells us that somehow you know about substance abuse programs. If s a clue.ʺ

  ʺA clue telling me what?ʺ he asked incredulously. ʺThat my father was an alcoholic? That my brother — or was it my friends, or was it my mother — did drugs? Maybe I did! Or maybe this clue tells me simply that AA made a presentation at my school and I happened to be listening that day. It tells me nothing!ʺ

  Ivy struggled to remain patient. ʺObviously, one puzzle piece has no significance in itself. But once you start putting it together with other pieces, it will make a picture. Pay attention when you suddenly come up with a puzzle piece — donʹt push it off the table in a rage.ʺ She dropped her keys in her purse.

  ʺAre you coming?ʺ

  ʺNo:ʺ

  ʺDonʹt make such a big deal out of it — you can pay me back later. In the meantime, you canʹt go without a shirt and decent shoes.ʺ She waited thirty seconds longer, then got out of the car.

  He poked his head out the window. ʺNice outfit,ʺ he called to her. Ivy glanced down — the bathrobe! She started to laugh. ʺHey, itʹs my beach wrap.ʺ

  Using Willʹs sizes as a guide, Ivy flipped through the brightly colored T‐shirts and cotton shorts. Guy was scared, she thought; anyone whoʹd leave the hospital — a roof, a bed, and food — when he had no other place to go was very afraid of something.

  His bouts of anger came from his fear and his hurt pride. If Will were in this situation, would he act this way? She wasnʹt sure, but Tristan had had that kind of pride.

  Ivy added to her list of purchases a large backpack, a pair of cargo pants, sunglasses, and a second towel. At the checkout counter she used her debit card, asking for cash back. Then she stuffed the money, the receipt, and other items in the pack.

  Emerging from the store, she walked slowly toward the car, mulling over the situation. When she looked up, she couldnʹt believe it — Guy was gone. She looked around quickly, as if he might have gotten out of the car to stretch his legs, but he had disappeared. She gazed into the green shade of the woods that bordered the parking lot. His escape route — to where? Guy himself probably had no idea.

  He had left her T‐shirt on the car seat. Ridiculous, stupid pride! Taking a pen from her purse, she wrote the name ʺGuyʺ on the backpack, then picked up the pack, and with all her strength, flung it toward the trees. Afterward, she drove to Nauset Light Beach, where she ran through the pounding surf until she was exhausted, wishing her jumbled emotions could drain into the sea.

  “YOU COULD HAVE CALLED,” WILL SAID TWO HOURS later. ʺYou shouldʹve had your phone on. You had us worried.ʺ

  He was working next to the large garden between the cottage and inn, sanding an old bookcase heʹd found among Aunt Cindyʹs stash of furniture. Beth sat nearby in an Adirondack chair, a book opened facedown on the chairʹs flat arm.

  ʺI told you I was fine,ʺ Ivy replied. ʺYour appointment was hours ago. I thought something was wrong?”

  Ivy removed her shoes and shook the sand out
of them. ʺI went to the beach.ʺ

  Willʹs mouth held a straight line and the muscles in his forearms shone with sweat as he sanded furiously. Beth looked from him to Ivy, then back to him.

  ʺWhy would you assume that something was wrong?ʺ Ivy asked. ʺGiven your track record. Ivy, why would I assume things were okay?ʺ

  She didnʹt reply. ʺIf Beth, who wasnʹt even hospitalized, had gone for a follow-up appointment and arrived home three hours after you expected, wouldnʹt you have worried?ʺ

  ʺOkay, fine, you win,ʺ Ivy said, hoping to end the discussion. Will looked up from his work, his anger gone, but his deep brown eyes troubled. ʺIʹm not trying to win. Iʹm just trying to understand whatʹs going on.”

  ʺMe too,ʺ Ivy replied honestly, and headed into the cottage.

  Ten

  ʺBUT YOU LIKED TO KAYAK ON THE RIVER AT HOME,ʺ Ivy said to Beth at noon on Sunday. With only a few guests staying past the weekend, they had finished work and were returning to the cottage, following the stone path through the garden. ʺBillingsgate Island sounds so mysterious, rising out of the water at low tide — and that sunken ship!ʺ For the past week, Beth had been complaining of writerʹs block. ʺTheyʹll inspire you,ʺ Ivy added encouragingly.

  ʺI guess,ʺ Beth replied without enthusiasm.

  ʺMaybe itʹs not the kayaking,ʺ Ivy said, after a moment of thought, ʺbut the person youʹre doing it with. Has something happened since the ice‐cream date with Chase? You seemed to really like him then.ʺ

  Beth shrugged. ʺHe texts me a lot.ʺ

  ʺMeaning too much,ʺ Ivy concluded. ʺAnd youʹre too nice to tell him to back off.ʺ Beth turned to Ivy.

  ʺYou know youʹre too kindhearted,ʺ Ivy said, smiling at her friend. ʺYou donʹt even swat at flies.ʺ

  ʺI might swat this one,ʺ Beth said as she entered the cottage. Ivy retrieved a paperback mystery, one of the many left behind by visitors to the Seabright, and carried it around to the innʹs porch.

  Oceanside, running the length of the inn and wrapping one comer, the porch had its own special light. In the early morning it was an airy room adrift in the marmalade and yellow of the sunrise, but gradually it became as cool and blue as the distant streak of sea. When no guests were around, Ivy liked sitting there.