The Body in the Ivy Read Online Free Page A

judging”—that was what the teacher intoned several times a class. “Yoga is not about judging.” Phoebe was judging now. Judging the extremely well-preserved fifty-five-year-old corporate lawyer standing in front of her, poised in mid-flight, with a slight smile on his face. She wanted to smack it right off.
    â€œYou don’t have to board the dogs. You can leave them here.” He turned away from her and put his hand on the doorknob.
    â€œYou know I can’t do that. Molly and Piper would die of starvation, and poop all over the house because no one would walk them, and even if you did, they’d get away from you like that time last year. I thought we’d never see them again.”
    He opened the door and stepped out into the garage. “Well, they’re your dogs; do what you want.”
    And he was gone.
    She thought about calling the town recreation department and getting a message to the twins. They couldn’t carry their cells at work. One was lifeguarding at the pool and the other coaching tennis in the day camp. Imagining the call that would follow—the reluctance displayed by whichever daughter had decided to respond—took Phoebe out of the house with the two Irish terriers and into her car. She certainly wouldn’t have a good time if she had to spend it worrying aboutthe only creatures in her Short Hills, New Jersey, home who seemed to respond to her. Wait, her son, Josh, responded, but it wasn’t the way a mother prays for, or a father, either, and that’s why her son was at some wilderness camp in Colorado where they apparently had to hollow out logs, make their canoes, and carve their paddles before they could set off on a trip that cost as much as a year’s tuition at college. Plus they had to cook all their meals, wash their clothes in streams while doing push-ups, and so forth. It was intended to make some kind of man out of him, but Phoebe’s secret fear was that Josh would return angrier than before. Wes had arranged the whole thing and Josh was westward-bound before Phoebe had sewn one nametag on or seriously studied the brochure.
    When the dogs saw where they were going, they weren’t happy. Phoebe had to drag them in from the parking lot, and they complained vociferously as she left the kennel. It all took forever. She was several blocks from home when she faced the fact that there was no way she would make her flight. She was tempted to pull over and sob, but decided to wait until she reached the comfort of her own home before breaking down. She’d seen a woman crying alone in her car in the Short Hills Mall parking lot a few years ago and the image still haunted her, as well as the fact that Phoebe hadn’t knocked on the window to offer help.
    Pulling into her street, she was surprised to see a very shiny Lincoln Town Car parked in front of the house. Turning into the driveway, she was even more surprised to see a pleasant-looking young man in a chauffeur’suniform get out and walk toward her. She stopped the car and rolled down the window, but didn’t get out of her Mercedes wagon. He seemed an unlikely mugger or rapist, but you couldn’t be too careful in this neighborhood, as the prominently displayed alarm system signs on every lawn—symbolic of the inhabitants’ every worst nightmare—attested.
    â€œMrs. James?”
    Phoebe nodded. That seemed safe enough.
    â€œMs. Bishop sent me. She thought it might be more convenient for you to fly from Morristown. A small plane is waiting. And she didn’t want you to have to try to figure out how to get there on your own. I’ll wait in the car while you finish your preparations.” He smiled.
    A very pleasant face.
    Phoebe got out of the car.
    â€œI don’t know what to say. You see, I’m running late and—”
    â€œYou’re not running late now. Take your time. You have all the time in the world.”
    She walked into