Chapter 8 #2
The young girl’s mother appeared behind her daughter, promising she’d buy a pumpkin.
“Vanz, could you help clean that up?” Brooke gestured to the pumpkin broken in pieces on the ground.
Shelly touched her arm. “Is that the same guy you saw at the beach?”
Ivy had told Shelly about him. She followed her gaze. “Looks like him. Same hoodie anyway.”
Seeing him in the daylight, she remembered seeing him during her beach walks, too. He was always alone, walking with a hunched posture as if he wanted to disappear. She’d seen him that night at the library lot, wearing similar clothes.
“I’m wondering if he might have been the vandal,” Ivy murmured.
“Let’s find out.” Shelly adjusted her bag.
They approached Cookie, who managed the farmers market with the same no-nonsense efficiency she brought to everything in Summer Beach. She stood near her vegetable stand, checking off items on a clipboard.
When Cookie looked up, Ivy greeted and asked, “Who’s the boy cleaning up the pumpkins?”
The older woman’s weathered face broke into a smile. “That’s Vanz. He seems like a good kid. Showed up a week ago asking if anyone needed help. I gave him cleanup duty because he was hanging around looking hungry, and I needed a rest.”
“Is he local?” Ivy watched Vanz working diligently, making sure every piece of pumpkin made it into the bin.
“I don’t think so. He doesn’t say much about himself.” Cookie’s expression softened. “But he’s a hard worker and does what needs doing without complaint. Some of the vendors have been giving him extra fruit and vegetables. He always thanks them and offers to help load their vehicles.”
That didn’t sound like someone who would vandalize property. Ivy’s chest tightened.
“Do you know where he’s staying?” Shelly asked.
“No idea. I asked once, but he changed the subject.” Cookie glanced toward Vanz, who’d moved on to sweeping the area around the flower stand. “I needed help with clean up and mentioned that to one of the vendors. Vanz overheard, so he asked what I needed done.”
“That was good of you to hire him,” Ivy said.
“I give him a little cash for his work, but it’s only temporary.” Cookie’s expression turned thoughtful. “He looks like he has a lot on his young mind. Reminds me a little of Mitch when he first arrived in Summer Beach. Sort of looks like him, too.”
Shelly turned toward the teenager. After studying him for a moment, she frowned.
Ivy watched Vanz finish cleaning up the pumpkin and move to straighten a display of squash that had been knocked askew. Not the actions of someone destroying property for the thrill of it.
But she couldn’t shake the image of him walking past the library lot that night. He matched the description of what Jen and George’s security camera had caught.
Shelly shifted her bag to her other shoulder. “Let’s talk to him.”
As they approached the boy, he looked up with wary eyes in a lean face. He was younger than Ivy had thought. Maybe sixteen, if that.
“I saw you working,” Ivy said. “Cookie says you’ve been a big help.”
“Just cleaning up.” His voice was soft, barely audible over the market noise.
“That’s important work.” Ivy paused, choosing her words carefully. “I run the Seabreeze Inn. If you’re interested in more work, sometimes we need help.”
Hope flickered in his eyes. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be here.”
Ivy hesitated. “Are you staying somewhere nearby?”
“I’m fine.” The words spilled out, and the boy’s hands tightened on the broom handle. “Why do you care?”
“Because people around here look out for each other,” Ivy said. “Do you have any family here?”
“Kind of. I mean, I don’t know. Not really.” His shoulders sagged a little. “I camp out on the beach.”
Shelly inclined her head, staring at the young teen and narrowing her eyes, but she said nothing.
Ivy’s heart ached at his response. “That must be cold at night.”
He shrugged off her comment. “I have a sleeping bag.”
“Well, my offer stands,” Ivy said. “Come by the inn if you want work. Or if you need anything.”
Vanz gave her a quick nod and returned to work.
As Ivy and Shelly walked away, Shelly asked, “What do you think?”
“I’m not sure he’s the one who vandalized Java Beach. The timing fits, but he seems like a scared kid who needs help. He should be in school.”
Shelly chewed her lip. “I hate to say this, but that kid looks a lot like my husband.”
Ivy glanced back at the teen. Sure enough, his profile was similar. “What are you thinking?”
Her sister let out a breath. “One night when Mitch was being brutally honest with me about his past, he told me he’d been pretty wild, and he wouldn’t be surprised if there was a knock on our door someday.” Shelly sighed again. “Maybe he was preparing me. The age of that kid sort of fits.”
Instantly, Ivy realized what Shelly was getting at.
“You think Mitch is his father?”
Shelly’s face paled, and she blinked hard. “Why else would he be hanging around here? Finding out something like that is enough to make even good kids lash out.”
“Maybe the likeness is just a coincidence,” Ivy said, but Shelly looked convinced. “Are you going to tell Mitch?”
A desperate look filled Shelly’s face. “That would change everything. I wish Mom were here. She always knows what to do.”
Empathy and compassion surged through Ivy, and she wrapped an arm around her sister. “Me, too, Shells. But I’ve got you.”