Boles. You’re Ann Ivy?”
Ivy nodded, glanced sideways and met Matt’s gaze, silently asking if he’d reveal her real identity.
But Matt remained silent, hidden by the shadows studying his former friend. The cocky attitude remained as A.J. skimmed his eyes over Ivy, mentally undressing her.
Matt clenched his fists, that protective instinct swelling inside him again.
No, A.J. hadn’t changed. He still liked women. Was a taker. Then again, all the women had liked him, and had given it up pretty easily.
But the idea of him taking anything from Ivy roused Matt’s anger.
Reining in the control he’d mastered in prison, he forced himself to tamp down his temper. A.J.’s sandy-blond hair had gotten darker. His lean body had filled out, and he’d grown an inch or two, putting him around five-eleven.
“What’s the problem, ma’am?” A.J. asked.
Ivy waved him in. “Come on inside, and I’ll show you.”
Three steps in, A.J. finally noticed Matt. He froze, thumbs in his belt loops, feet spread wide.
“Holy hell, if it isn’t Matt Mahoney. I heard you got released.”
“Word spreads fast.”
A.J.’s gaze shot toward the wall, and his eyes widened as he spotted the blood-smeared writing and dead animal. “Shit.” He turned to Ivy. “When did this happen?”
“It was like that when I arrived here tonight.”
A.J. quickly glanced at Matt, his eyebrows raised as if waiting on an explanation. Matt squared his shoulders, searched for the old familiar connection between him and his buddy, felt tension knot his neck at A.J.’s assessment. He’d had fifteen years of being stared at with suspicion, as if he was a rabid dog that preyed on children. As if he deserved to die.
He hadn’t expected it from A.J.
“Mahoney?” A.J. finally asked.
Disappointment assaulted Matt at the silent implication. He’d hoped that his friend would remember old alliances. After all, they’d fished together. Set off stink bombs in the girls’ locker room so they could watch them run outside in their underwear. Hidden in the closet with nude girlie magazines and laughed at the raunchy jokes. And they’d taken their first trip to Red Row together, another bonding of sorts.
Then Matt had ended up in jail, and A.J. had wound up sheriff.
Strange how the world went around.
“Matt’s staying next door. I screamed and he came to check on me,” Ivy answered for him.
“You two are here together?” A.J. asked in an incredulous voice.
“No,” Matt cut in before Ivy could bother. A.J. scowled. “We don’t want trouble around here, Mahoney.”
Matt shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Who says I’m here to cause trouble?”
“Why else would you have come back?”
Matt grinned. “To see my old friends, of course.”
A.J. didn’t take the bait. “When did you get to town?”
“Tonight,” Matt said, meeting A.J.’s glare head-on. “Just a few hours ago.”
“You’re here one day and now this?”
A.J. gestured toward the bloody writing, then shifted on the balls of his feet. “Do you have any idea who did this, ma’am?”
Ivy shook her head. “No…”
“Why would someone want to hurt you?” A.J. asked.
“I don’t know,” Ivy said quietly.
A.J. hesitated, then turned on that charming smile. The ladies’ man was back. “If you don’t tell me the truth, I can’t help you.”
A heartbeat of silence stretched through the room. The question stood in the air—should she confess the truth about her identity? Could she trust the sheriff to keep her secret?
Could he help her if she didn’t?
Matt refrained from offering advice. He didn’t trust anyone in this town. Including her.
And A.J. wanted Ivy. That much was evident, at least to him. But he couldn’t tell her that. After all, her personal life was none of his business.
“My real name is Ivy Stanton,” she said. “I came here under the pen name I use in my magazine.”
Realization quickly flared in A.J.’s eyes. “I see. So no one else in Kudzu Hollow knows who you really are?”
“Not that I know of. And I’d like to keep it that way for a while.”
“Probably wise. It’s a small town. Gossip spreads fast.”
Matt grimaced. And friendships died quickly. A.J. frowned. “How long have you been in town, Miss Stanton?”
“About a week.”
He gestured around the cabin. “Is there anything missing?”
Ivy bit her lip. “I…I haven’t really checked.”
“Look around and see.” A.J. strode back to the door and checked the lock, while Ivy began to search the room. “There’s no sign of forced entry. Did you leave the cabin unlocked?”
“No.”
Matt assessed the cabin, too, watching A.J. Essentially, the rental unit consisted of one big room, sparsely furnished. An iron bed dominated the center, with an old-fashioned quilt in green and rose covering it. A simple pine dresser sat in one corner, a desk in the opposite. A breakfast bar separated the small kitchen nook from the den. Across from the bed a small sitting area held a sofa and chair situated around a ceiling-high stone fireplace. Built-in bookshelves held a few paperback novels, a small TV set and a stereo. The floors were made of heart of pine, the walls the same, making the room dark and cozy. Except the “present” Ivy had received had destroyed the relaxing atmosphere.
“I don’t see anything missing,” she said after checking the closet.
A.J. took a quick run through the cabin. “The window’s open in the bathroom. My guess is that’s how the guy got in and out.”
Ivy sighed. “I…I don’t know if this is related or not, but in town earlier, a car sideswiped me after I left the diner. I…thought it was just some teenagers, or maybe a drunk leaving the bar.”
Matt’s instincts roared to life. Twice in one night, something strange had happened to Ivy. Someone definitely knew her identity, and didn’t want her here.
A.J. gently stroked her arm as if to comfort her. “Are
