ʺNo.ʺ Her response sounded short and stiff, but Ivy couldnʹt think of a single word to add to it. ʺNo,ʺ she repeated.
Will turned in his seat to study her. (ʹLightʹs green,ʺ she told him. He nodded and drove on. ʺYou know, Ivy, itʹs natural to be a little nervous about driving again.ʺ
ʺIʹm not nervous.ʺ She saw the tightening in his jaw and realized Will felt as if his thoughtfulness had been rebuffed. ʺBecause. . itʹs daytime,ʺ she added lamely. ʺSo, I guess it doesnʹt bother me— the way it might if it were dark, as it was when the accident happened.ʺ
They were silent the rest of the way. Standing together in the hot parking lot, waiting for the rental car, Will rattled his car keys and said, ʺIʹll go with you to your appointment at the hospital, and then maybe we can stop for—ʺ
ʺThanks, thatʹs not necessary.ʹ He squinted at her. ʺYou havenʹt driven since the accident. Suppose a car coming from the opposite direction gets too close to the center line. You donʹt know how youʹre going to react.ʺ
ʺIʹll be okay, Will.ʺ
ʺWhat if I follow you as far as the hospital, but not all the way home,ʺ he suggested.
Ivy shielded her eyes from the sun and the metallic glare of the cars. ʺI can handle it.ʺ
ʺIvy, you were in a really serious accident. Thereʹs a reason the specialist wants to check you one more time, and I would like to be there. Okay?ʺ He placed his hands on her shoulders. Ivy pulled back, then saw the surprise in Willʹs eyes.
Since the night they had come together to fight Gregory, she had never pulled away from his touch. ʺIʹm fine,ʺ she insisted.
He shook his head. ʺYou havenʹt been yourself since the accident. Beth has noticed it too.ʺ Ivy prickled. ʺWhat do you and Beth do, spend your time talking about me?ʺ Excuse us for caring!ʺ
ʺI need some space, Will!ʹʹ His face paled beneath his suntan. ʺSpace. . from me?ʺ She hesitated. ʺFrom everyone. Weʹre living in awfully close quarters.ʺ She could almost convince herself that this was the problem.
ʺFine.ʺ He took two steps back from her and held out his arms, as if giving her spacer ʺFine.ʺ Then he turned and strode to his car. He turned to her one last time, but Ivy didnʹt call him back as he may have expected, and he drove off quickly.
ʺReady, Ms. Lyons?ʺ the rental agent asked, arriving with a key. ʺGot you a new Beetle.ʺ She picked up the shopping bag that she had filled with homemade bread, jam, and cookies— gifts for Andy — then followed the agent across the lot.
An hour later, the doctor told Ivy she would send the test results when they came back, but that everything was looking good. ʺThe folks from EMS are still shaking their heads in amazement,ʺ the doctor said. ʺItʹs nice to give someone such good news.ʺ
Afterward, Ivy took the elevator up to the sixth floor and waited for Andy at the nursesʹ station. He emerged from the room next to the one she had occupied, looking perplexed. ʺHas anyone seen Guy? That boy sure keeps me on my toes.ʺ
ʺNot for a half hour or so,” a dark‐haired nurse answered. ʺHey, look who it is!ʺ
Andyʹs face broke into a smile. ʺBack for a follow‐up?ʺ
ʺAnd to give you this thank‐you,ʺ Ivy said. Andy peeked into the shopping bag, then pulled out the bread. Even in its wrapping, they could smell the tangy sweetness of the apple‐cranberry loaf. Then he took out the tin of cookies and lifted the lid. ʺYum.ʺ
ʺIf s all homemade. Aunt Cindy does her own cooking for the Seabright.ʺ
ʺYouʹre going to share, arenʹt you?ʺ the dark‐haired nurse asked Andy.
ʺMaybe,ʺ he replied with a grin. He and Ivy talked for a few minutes, then she walked to the elevator, contemplating the afternoon ahead of her. She wanted to drive for miles, perhaps to the tip of Cape Cod, and get out on the beach and run.
She pressed the elevatorʹs down button three times, then spotted an exit sign and headed for the stairway door. Raring down the steps. Ivy enjoyed the loud smack of her feet against the concrete surface. Holding on to the metal railing, she swung around the corners of each landing, as Philip would have. She didnʹt see the person crouched on the steps, not until she slammed into him. She tumbled forward and he flung out his arms.
ʺWhoa!ʺ he exclaimed, pulling her back toward him. It was the guy who had been so unfriendly in the solarium.
Ivy regained her balance, but the guy held on, his eyes as powerful as his hands.
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.