Murder in the Smokies - By Paula Graves Page 0,72
shook the other man’s hand. “I hope you were telling the truth about turning over a new leaf. Because I plan to be coming around here a lot more often.”
“I get the feelin’ it ain’t me and your old man you’ll be comin’ here to see.”
Sutton smiled but didn’t answer. He turned back to his father’s bedside and found the old man looking at him with thoughtful eyes. “You got something to say, Cleve?”
His father’s mouth slowly formed words. “Don’t...be...a stranger.” He let go of a big whoosh of breath and grinned.
“Sure, talk up a storm for the pretty boy,” Seth grumbled. But his eyes were smiling.
“I’ve got to get my stuff together so I can meet the helicopter. They should be landing in Bitterwood in about sixty minutes.” Sutton looked at his father. “I expect you out of this bed and doing therapy by the time I get back. Understand, old man?”
Cleve’s answer was profane, but he was grinning the whole time.
“Take care of him,” Sutton told Seth as the other man walked him out into the corridor.
“I’ll do my best. You be careful over there, wherever you’re going. Say hi to Dee if you see her.”
“She’s coming to do the mop-up on these murders, actually,” Sutton said, remembering what Jesse had told him. “You’ll get to see her yourself.”
He couldn’t tell if Seth was pleased by the news or not, but he didn’t have time to figure it out. He was running out of time to see Ivy before he had to leave.
But when he checked with the emergency-room admitting nurse, she told him Ivy had already left the hospital. “She left with a tall black man about fifteen minutes ago.”
Damn it! If she was with Antoine, that meant she knew he was leaving town. She probably thought he’d hightailed it out of Tennessee once again without even telling her goodbye.
He pulled out his cell phone and started to call hers when he remembered her phone was still at Bramlett Nurseries. He shoved the phone back in his pocket with a growl and jogged out to the visitor parking area. Fortunately, his gas tank was half-full, which would get him back to Bitterwood with no problem.
But would Ivy be willing to meet him halfway once he got there?
* * *
THERE WAS AN OLD, powder-blue Ford Mustang convertible parked in the driveway when Antoine pulled his car to a stop in front of Ivy’s house. He shot her an apologetic look. “I thought I should call your mother and let her know what was going on. I told her there wasn’t any need to come to the hospital until we knew if you’d be staying, but—”
Ivy shook her head. “No problem.” Right now, she thought, she could probably use a hug from her mother.
Arlene had swept the floors and dusted the shelves while she waited, and when she heard them come through the door, she came out of the kitchen with rubber gloves on. “Oh, baby, you’re home! I was driving myself crazy with worry, waiting to hear something!” She waved the gloves with a sheepish smile. “I know it’s so cliché for me to be cleaning your house for you, and I promise I’m not being all disapproving of the job you do keeping things clean—”
“It was a mess,” Ivy said with a faint smile. “And thanks.”
Arlene stripped off the wet gloves and wrung them in her hands a moment, looking for a place to put them. Antoine took them from her with a smile and carried them back into the kitchen while Arlene gave Ivy a hug.
“Did I hurt your shoulder?” she asked, pulling away quickly.
“It’s pretty numb from the local anesthetic,” Ivy assured her. “You didn’t cook or anything, did you?”
“No, actually—” Arlene made a grimace that somehow worked its way into a sunny smile. “I was looking for you when Antoine called me. I have some really great news. At least, I hope you’ll think it’s great.”
Ivy’s stomach dropped. “You’ve met someone new.”
Arlene’s smile fell. “No, honey. I know that’s what you’d expect from me—”
Antoine came out of the kitchen. “I’ve got to get back to the station, now that we’re shorthanded. Take care of yourself, Hawk. I’ll call you soon.”
Ivy caught his hand as he moved past, giving it a squeeze. “Thanks for everything.” After he let himself out the door, she turned to her mother and took her hand. “I shouldn’t have interrupted. What’s your good news?”
“Well, technically, it’s really bad news, at