Page 62 of Up In Smoke

He could go home—home to Ivy’s place. He could make pasta for dinner when Ivy got home at …

Wait, he thought. It was Thursday. Didn't she close the library early on Thursdays?

He wasn't far away. He messaged her.

— Ivy, where are you? Just let me know.

As he swung the car the other direction, he pulled into the parking lot. The library was closed and dark. He knew where Ivy usually parked and her car wasn't there.

Doubt creeping in as he pulled close to the front door, Luke checked the hours she had neatly posted there. On Thursdays the Library closed at six.

It was after seven-thirty.

Where was Ivy?

With his chest cracking as fear shoved its way in, he called her.

But the call went immediately to voicemail … it didn’t even ring. Did that mean something was wrong with her phone?

He was sitting in the car, with his foot on the brake, texting Jo, when the scanner crackled to life again.

He didn't need to hear the address twice.

Right now, he didn't even care that his brother was getting arrested for the crime.

Once again, he shoved his foot down onto the gas and drove too fast. Luke headed for the fire.

Aiming his way out of town, he sped toward the old barn.

Chapter Forty-Five

Ivy was draped in a chair at the small table, her hands bound in front of her, her head down on the smooth but dusty surface. She blinked slowly. Her brain was fuzzy, her mouth full of cotton.

She remembered trying to fight. She remembered getting out of the car and trying to run. Again Carlos had caught her quickly, his hand clamping over her mouth. She remembered recognizing the sickly sweet smell for what it was: chloroform.

The only thing she could say now was that she had fought valiantly, though, once again, she had lost.

It took longer than people thought to knock someone out with chloroform. It wasn't like in the TV shows or movies and, honestly, that made her more disappointed in herself. She should have had time to get away. She should have landed a good elbow jab or a head smack. She should have been able to get her head away from the chloroform for more than just the one quick time she'd managed it. She’d gulped fresh air but hadn’t had time to also scream before he got his hand back over her mouth, his words harsh and angry that she fought him.

In the end, all it had done was make her struggle take longer.

Carlos sat opposite her now, watching as she blinked herself awake, her head slowly coming up off the table.

He must have carried her in and set her here. As she straightened, the chair rocked, startling her. The amusement in Carlos’ eyes told her he was most pleased the more upset she was. Whether she was startled, scared, angry, whatever, didn’t matter to him, just that she reacted.

She wouldn’t give him any more.

She wouldn't even swallow. He could see that. Straightening herself, she didn’t speak as he pushed a bottle of water across the table in front of him.

“This is for your mouth—probably feeling a little dry. You'll want to stay hydrated.”

There was an undertone to his voice that told her there was no concern for her well-being. It was probably poisoned. It would probably knock her out again.

“Go ahead, drink it,” he told her.

With her hands tied, she tried awkwardly to unscrew it, but he didn't offer to help. Her only consolation was that she broke the seal and she tried to discreetly look for an injection site on the lid but didn’t find one. Hopefully, the water was clean.

After taking a reasonable sip, Ivy put the cap back on.

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