Ivy turned to look at Will.
"How about getting together later this afternoon?" Gregory proposed.
Will hesitated, then nodded in agreement. "Celentano's," he said.
"Can I come?" Ivy asked. She caught both of them off guard.
"Oh, I forgot," she said with a casual wave of her hand. "I'm working today."
"Too bad," Gregory said, but his and Will's surprised expressions had told her what she wanted to know.
This meeting was business. Gregory was going to pay off Will. At least Will was smart enough to make the exchange in the safety of a public place.
Throughout the conversation, Beth didn't say a word. She watched with wide blue eyes, and Ivy wondered if she could read any of the thoughts behind their faces. She had left her brownie half eaten in its tinfoil.
"If you're not going to finish that, I will," Ivy said, struggling to find normal things to say, working to keep up the pretense that nothing was wrong and she wasn't afraid.
Beth pushed the brownie over to her. While Gregory and Will set a time to meet, Ivy broke off a piece, then placed what was left of the dessert in front of Gregory.
"What time did you get home last night?" she asked him.
Gregory looked at her silently for a moment and rocked back on his chair.
"Let's see… nine o'clock, I think."
"Did you hear anything strange outside?"
"Anything like what?" he replied.
"Whining or howling, a cat in pain."
"Did something happen to Ella?" Beth asked.
"Something went after her," Ivy told them.
Will frowned. His old concerned look was getting to Ivy.
"Scraped the fur off in a strip and drew some blood on her right side," Ivy continued. "But there weren't any bite marks. What kind of animal would have done something like that?" she asked, looking directly at Gregory.
"I have no idea," he said coolly.
"Do you know, Will?"
"No… no. Is Ella all right?" She heard the slight tremor in his voice, and it almost drew her back to him.
"Oh, sure, she's fine," Ivy said, standing up, tossing her half-finished lunch into a nearby trash barrel.
"Ella's a tough little street kitten."
"Just like her mistress," Gregory said, smiling. "Just like her."
Ivy couldn't stop thinking about wheels. All day she drew circles with notches in them… in her math notebook, on a Spanish quiz, and on a handout in history. They became tractors, snowflakes, strange knobs on a door. Later, at 'Tis the Season, she noticed every item in the store that was round-Christmas wreaths, swimming tubes, and a pincushion made to look like a chocolate-frosted doughnut.
Ivy tried not to think about what was going on at Celentano's and was just as glad when Tristan didn't answer her call. She didn't have to tell him about the blackmail note, she reasoned. It wasn't Tristan who had foolishly trusted Will.
When Ivy got home from work that evening, Maggie and Andrew were out, and Philip was in the family room with Gregory watching a video.
"Did you finish your homework?" Ivy asked her brother.
"Yup. Gregory checked it."
Gregory, playing the role of good and helpful older brother, smiled up at her. Ivy returned the smile, though she tingled with fear at Philip's growing attachment to him. What would Gregory do, she wondered, when he found out that they'd be legally sharing a father? For Gregory, money was status. It was how he controlled the people around him. How would he react if he found out he and Philip might be sharing the Baines fortune?
"Stay awhile," Gregory said to her, gesturing casually to the seat next to him.
"Thanks, but I've got stuff to do upstairs."
She started toward the hall, but Gregory got up quickly and stood in the path Ivy meant to take. "Your mother left a pile of laundry outside your bedroom," he told her. "Maggie said she hoped you had a key.
The bathroom door was locked too."
"I have a key."
He leaned close to her and lowered his voice. "She said she hopes you're not doing drugs in there." His mouth twisted up in a grin.
"I'm sure you set her straight," Ivy replied.He laughed, and she walked past him.
At the top of the steps she pulled the key out of her purse. When she pushed open her bedroom door, she expected the captive Ella to spring out.
"Ella?" She stepped inside the room. "Ella?"
She saw a round lump beneath the quilt on her bed. Ivy dropped her books by the side of the bed, then pulled back the cover. Ella was huddled in a tight ball.
Touching the cat gently, Ivy rubbed her with one finger in her favorite spot around her ears, then stroked her, studying the bare strip on her side. The scratches were beginning to heal.
"You look so frightened, Ella."
The cat slowly got to its feet and limped to the edge of the bed. Ivy quickly reached for her, picking up the paw Ella wouldn't use.
"Oh, my God!" The pink pads on the bottom were pricked and striped with dark blood. When she touched them, they oozed fresh red beneath their drying crust. Ivy scooped the cat up in her shaking arms and huddled over her.
"Oh, Ella, I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She laid her face on Ella's fur, hot tears rolling down. "I locked the door-both doors. I'd never have left you if I thought he could get in."
How did he get in? Ivy wondered. Her bedroom had been his once, so perhaps he had another key.
Tonight she'd sleep with furniture against the doors. "Tomorrow when I'm at school, I'll keep you in the car," she promised Ella.