Page 13 of Up In Smoke

The town population was small enough that even she could identify someone else's car on sight a lot of the time. Someone who’d grown up around here—like Luke—would notice sooner rather than later that she was behind him.

This time, she'd left Shannon covering at the library. She hated leaving the library in someone else’s hands. It was her baby. Running a library, even a small one like this, had been her dream. But she’d had to take time off because of the house. It was a lesson in letting go, Ivy supposed. At least with all her recent absences, this wouldn’t look unusual. And she trusted Shannon implicitly. It was the universe Ivy had trouble trusting in.

“Where are you going?” she asked into the silent space of the car as she tried to stay back but keep up.

When she'd asked Luke point blank if it was him, he denied being the arsonist. For a moment, she’d caught a glimpse of the old Luke Hernandez—the charming smile, the dimple, the cheeky shrug. He’d said, “Why would I even do it?”

But that wasn’t an answer and Ivy wasn’t about to let it slide.

“That’s great. And I don’t know why you would. But you sound guilty as hell right now. You can talk your way around it, but if you’re going to lie, you’ll have to do it straight to my face.”

She’d been so mad. Her house was uninhabitable. It was costing her so much money and she had very little safety net and he was grinning and shrugging at her? This was why she’d had no time for Charming Luke.

But it had all faded away when he’d seen how she felt. Luke had looked her in the eyes and plainly and clearly said, “No, Ivy. It wasn't me.”

Even as she breathed out relief, not questioning that she believed him, she'd been hit with an idea.There was something about the way he said it. She didn’t move the paint roller, still bracing it between them as though holding him at the point of a sword, she pressed. “But you know who did.”

“No! I don't.”

Though she had believed the words, she didn't quite believehim. There was too much at stake. She could have died in that fire, and who would they even have notified?

Ivy had learned by age fourteen that she'd believed in some truly ridiculous and stupid things in her life. Her family believed those things, so she believed them. The minister denied the crimes he was accused of, and they all wanted to believe such a nice man wouldn’t do that, so they chose to believe him. How her sisters had ever found forgiveness was beyond her. Ivy still hadn’t.

So she was more than aware of her attraction to Luke, and how it could make her believe truly ridiculous things. Without that stupid desire, her gut instinct was quite solid. But now, she followed Luke Hernandez down Paper Mill Road and out of the city, toward the old, abandoned factory.

He’d led her on a bizarre trek around town to say the least. He'd stopped at an old house, an apartment complex on the edge of town—a nice shiny new one. Then he’d checked an older home with the siding sagging. It made her place look like the Taj Mahal … even before it was getting put back to rights.

That one he'd gone inside and stayed for a short while. Who would live there? She’d sat outside and waited and didn’t get answers. When he left, a much older woman had come to the door, cigarette in one hand that she waved as she gestured. She looked so much like Luke that she had to be a relative, maybe even his mother, maybe his grandmother.

Ivy had jotted down the address. She could look up a lot of this on her phone, but she’d most likely need to make use of the city records. Then he’d turned down this road and headed out of town. If he was going the other way, she might have followed him into Lincoln, but he was aiming west into open fields.

Trying to stay inconspicuous, she slowed as he parked at the side of the road in a pullout that looked like it had been created by cars stopping there before. Ivy wasn't familiar with this area. Whatever little shops had been out this way had closed long ago. The houses were farmsteads, few and far between. She passed old barns, rotting and falling down in the spaces between the properties. Ivy feared for the kids who might play there and hoped their parents were keeping them out of harm's way.

She tried to keep an even speed and look as though she belonged here. She didn’t. She’d turned her head to look the other direction, as though Luke might not recognize her car and not get a good look at her either. On a regular day, she would have waved at him and maybe stopped and said hello. People out here did that kind of thing—it was the sense of community she’d loved about her childhood without the terror of it.

But not today. Turning her head away was maybe the dumbest thing she’d done. Luke had gone into her home when it was on fire, he’d saved her. He’d consoled her about not knowing if her car could be driven ever again, or if that too was something she might not have quite enough insurance money to cover.

In the end, it had been Luke who'd had the joyous news of telling her the car had survived. He'd even talked her through how to take it into Lincoln, and which place could detail it well enough to get the smoke scent out.

So, though she might have been looking the other way, her blonde hair and a ponytail would have been obvious. Her shell pink sweater set would have given her away on a good day. But, even if he didn't see the person at all, Luke Hernandez likely recognized the car he’d spent three days calming her down about.

A mile later, she turned around and told herself she'd drive past the parked car, go back into town, and mind her own damn business. But as she passed the spot, she saw the old blue Chevy was still there and that Luke was nowhere to be found.

Ivy found herself saying that following Lukewasher business. The fire had destroyed most of her home. And this man was spending an inordinate amount of time with her these days under the guise of owing her a debt that he wouldn't name. She had a right to know.

Turning again and tucking her car into another pull off just a little further down, she hopped out and followed the little foot path that became more obvious as she stepped into the grass. Soon she found herself amongst the trees and heard voices.

“Give it to me! I paid for it.”

“It doesn't matter if you paid for it. You're not supposed to have it. You’ll get arrested!”

The two voices sounded so much alike that Ivy frowned. Was Luke having a psychotic episode and arguing with himself?

But as she approached, she realized there were two men, standing in a small clearing, carrying on like teenagers. They stood over small, charred remains of a campfire in what looked like a bad spot for flames. Luke ignored it and stayed focused on the other man. He held something away, like a game, but the anger in the voices was real.

Ivy stepped closer, and as she did, she snapped a twig, making her freeze with fear. What would they do if they saw her?

At least one of them was Luke, and she didn’t think he would hurt her, but she had no idea what she was witnessing—only that she shouldn’t be witnessing it. When the two continued arguing and didn't seem to hear her, Ivy let out her breath and began creeping forward again. This time she stepped more carefully as their voices rose and they almost came to blows.

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