Bennett stood and crossed to the balcony railing. He gripped it, staring out at the ocean. “I have a confession, too.”
Ivy knew something had been bothering him. She sipped her coffee and waited.
“Mitch and I talked to a kid at the marina. He’s the same one you met. Mitch invited him to Java Beach because the kid looked hungry. He gave him some food in a bag, so that’s probably what you saw in the photo.”
“Then you met him, too.” Ivy tried not to sound like she was accusing him of withholding information, but she wondered how long he’d known about the boy. “I wish you’d told me about him.”
A guilty expression crossed his face. “Maybe I should have.”
Ivy let that go. They were talking now, and this was enough. “We think he got in through the tunnel, not the upper hatch. Do you know of any old tunnels nearby?”
“Not offhand, but I can find out.”
Ivy stood and joined Bennett at the railing. “We need to find Vanz before he disappears. We suspect he’s in trouble.”
“I would agree with that.”
“Then we’ll look together.” Bennett turned to face her. “I’m not really upset about you digging up the lot. Exasperated, yes. Worried about you climbing into an old wartime bunker by yourself? Absolutely. But angry? No.”
She hadn’t expected this from him. “You’re not?”
“I admire your tenacity, even when it drives me crazy.” He touched her cheek. “You see something that needs investigating, and you do it. You find people who need help, and you help them. That’s who you are. I married you knowing that, and I wouldn’t change it.”
A warm feeling spread through her chest. “Even when I go against your advice?”
“Even then. Though next time, maybe give me a heads up before you descend into underground bunkers?” He managed a slight smile. “Just so I know where to send the search party if you don’t come back.”
“Deal.” She leaned against him, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “So what now?”
“We need to find Vanz,” Bennett replied, checking his watch. “We still have a couple of hours of daylight. Then we need to talk to Mitch and figure out how to help a kid who might be his son. If so, Mitch has a responsibility tohim. The kid shouldn’t live in a bunker because he has nowhere else to go.”
Ivy thought about that. “Mitch and Shelly’s beach bungalow is small. If needed, we could give him a room here, at least temporarily during the off-season.” She didn’t mind helping, because soon, Mitch would learn that his life was about to change. He would need the support of family.
Ivy just hoped they found Vanz before he vanished. Or worse.
12
Ivy clutched Bennett’s hand, the ocean mist cool on her face. They had left the inn and were walking on the beach where they’d each seen Vanz before, scanning the shoreline for any sign of him. They walked first in one direction toward the cove, then the other toward the village.
Ivy saw a few surfers in the water waiting for the last waves of the day, and other people strolled or walked a dog near the water’s edge, but no solitary teenager in a dark hoodie appeared. She’d had such high hopes for finding Vanz. He seemed like a lost kid everyone had turned their backs on.
They could help him, if he’d let them.
“He’s not here,” she said with a sinking feeling.
Bennett stroked his chin. “If we don’t find him, I need to tell Clark. A kid living in an unstable underground bunker isn’t safe.”
Ivy was torn between wanting to protect Vanz’s privacyand knowing Bennett was right. “But Clark will investigate, and Vanz might disappear if he hasn’t already.”
“We’d lose any chance of helping him,” Bennett added. “This might be Mitch’s son we’re talking about.”
“He could be in the bunker. I still have the shovels and toolbox in the trunk of my car.” Ivy told him how they climbed down.
“I hope so,” Bennett said. “This discovery is also historically significant for the town. I was unaware of it, although there had been some gossip. Old Charlie mentioned it once a long time ago, but I always thought that was just one of his stories. You know how Charlie is with his coffee cronies at Java Beach, each one topping another with a taller tale.”
“Apparently, this one was true.” Ivy thought about Charlie, the local small-time bookmaker, and wondered what he knew about this, if anything.
They walked back to the inn and took Ivy’s red Chevy convertible that had all their excavation equipment still in the back. Poppy’s flashlight and headlamp sat in the toolbox alongside the shovels. Bennett added a coil of rope from the garage.
