“Can that wait until tomorrow?” Mitch turned off the water and reached for a towel. “I’d like to hear his story because he could be in danger if he’s sent back.” He met Bennett’s gaze.
Bennett rubbed his neck. “We have to do the right thing.”
“I think we are. Seriously, I’ve got a weird feeling about this kid. Something’s not right at home, and I bet he’s safer here. Did you see the bruises on him?”
Bennett heaved a sigh and nodded. “However, that’s not for us to decide, even though you might be right.”
He recalled how Vanz had tensed when Mitch mentioned Palm Vista. And the kid had eaten that burger like he was starving. For more than food, he suspected.
“I can’t help feeling the adults in his life have betrayed him,” Mitch said as he cleaned the cooktop. “I’d hate to be another one. That kid needs help, whether he’ll admit it to us or not.”
“Still, I have an ethical duty to report a situation with a minor,” Bennett said, picking up his jacket with a heavy heart.
Although he could understand Mitch’s desire to fully understand the issues, once Bennett alerted Clark, as a mandated reporter, the police chief would have to report suspicions of abuse or neglect.
Yet the thought of sending Vanz back to a perilous situation at home was disturbing.
10
Ivy tapped the number to the police chief’s office and asked for Clark. She leaned against the kitchen counter in her apartment unit above the garage at the inn. Shelly and Poppy sat at the kitchen table waiting.
When Clark’s voice boomed over the phone, Ivy quickly told him what they were planning. “If anyone asks, we’re thinking about a temporary community garden, and Shelly is checking the soil.”
A long pause ensued, and Clark finally said, “Ivy, I didn’t hear that.”
“No, we really are considering that. Depending on how the library and art museum are situated on the lot, we hope to have enough space for a small community garden. Shelly will demonstrate how seeds are planted and show people how to prune and care for vegetables and fruits. It will be part of the learning center.”
That last part was a fresh idea, but why not? Ivy thought.
There was another pause. As Ivy held her breath, Shelly crossed her fingers.
“That’s different, and it’s a commendable plan,” Clark finally replied. “You’ll let me know if you need any help.”
“We will,” Ivy promised.
When she hung up the phone, Shelly and Poppy clapped and cheered.
“Operation treasure hunt is underway,” Shelly said. “That must be where Amelia hid the gold. Why would she leave all her cash in the bank during a war? If I were her, I’d have something handy in case I had to escape.”
“Or it might be more relics she rescued from Europe,” Poppy added.
The trio made their way downstairs to the garage and got into Ivy’s car. The shovels were still in the trunk. Even though they now had a plausible, and potentially real, cover story, Ivy still hadn’t told Bennett or her brother about this.
Because she didn’t want to hear a patronizing story about why they shouldn’t do this.
Sunny waved to them through the window as they drove off. They wouldn’t be gone long, and her youngest daughter had become more reliable than when they’d first arrived.
Maybe Ivy should have let her in on the secret mission, but she’d know soon enough if they found something.
A little later, the trio stood at the edge of the library lot, shovels in hand. Ivy had marked the spot with stones the night they were here last, and now they began digging in earnest, the scrape of metal against earth was the only sound besides their breathing and the distant call of gulls.
“This is exciting,” Poppy said, driving her shovel deeper. “As if we’re archaeologists.”
“Or grave robbers,” Shelly added, but her eyes gleamed with anticipation.
A few curious passersby glanced their way, but no one stopped.
After a few minutes, Ivy’s shovel hit something solid with a dull metallic sound. “There it is.”
