“I only wish…” Ivy stopped, another idea forming in her mind. “Libby is a research librarian. Before she arrived here, she came across an old article about Amelia and her plan to build the library and art museum. I wonder if she could find more?”
Bennett studied her. “That’s quite a coincidence.”
“She latched onto the idea. That was part of what brought her here.”
“Is it, though?” he continued, gazing at her thoughtfully. “Watching you, I no longer consider synchronicities mere coincidences.”
Ivy gestured toward the moonlight spilling onto the ocean. “Maybe it’s divine guidance, or the universe shifting the puzzle pieces back into their proper position.”
“All I know is, we need to listen to our gut instincts more. And mine are telling me to do this…” He cradled her face in his hands.
She lifted her face to his for a kiss, shivering at his touch.
The tide rushed in, swirling around their ankles, nearly knocking them off balance. She cried out and clung to him.
“I’ve got you,” he said, chuckling. He lifted her easily onto dry sand. “Can’t let anything happen to you until you figure out this latest discovery.”
“I hope you’re right about instincts,” she said, clasping his hand. “Because mine are screaming. I’ve got to follow this trail of clues.”
The crowd was buzzingat Java Beach. Ivy cut through the throngs, nodding to Darla and Charlie, a local retiree who took small bets on all sorts of things, including whether she and Bennett would marry. She smiled to herself. She never knew who won or lost that bet, but she and Bennett were clearly among the winners.
She slid into the seat across from Libby, who was already nursing a chai latte. She wore one of her usual cotton sundresses with cowboy boots.
“Thanks for meeting me,” Ivy began. Hardly able to sleep last night, she had sent Libby a message early this morning to see if she might find other press clippings related to Amelia Erickson and her project. “How is your bookmobile proposal going?”
“Almost finished,” Libby said. “I’ve been working with Poppy and Shelly on the book festival plan, too.” She hesitated. “About your message… I have a lot of information for you.”
“So quickly?”
Libby fidgeted with her cup. “I didn’t want to look like I had an obsession, but maybe I did. When I saw Shelly’s first videos about the inn, I was hooked. I was drawn to Amelia Erickson’s story and felt like I had a stake in the outcome, too. Does that sound weird?”
“Nothing sounds strange to me anymore.”
Libby scrolled through her phone. “Want to see some of what I found?”
“Sure.” Ivy hadn’t expected results so quickly. She wondered if anything would be helpful.
“I took photos of every article I found and saved the links. It was like an ongoing story I couldn’t get enough of.” Libby tapped the screen. “Start here.”
Ivy scanned through articles fromThe San Francisco Chronicle, theSan Francisco Examiner, and theSan Diego Evening Tribune.
Libby cleared her throat. “If it’s intent you’re looking for, Mrs. Erickson stated her intent often. Keep going.”
At the next document, Ivy opened her mouth in surprise. “Minutes from City Council meetings at Summer Beach?” She glanced at the date. “This was right after the city wasincorporated.” The list continued, but Ivy had seen what she thought was enough. “Will you email that to Poppy?”
Libby tapped her screen. “Done. Will this research really help?”
“I hope so. You might have just secured yourself a library, Libby.”
Still, Ivy knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. Andrew had requested more crucial pieces of information.
After leaving Libby, Ivy put another call through to Lea. Once again, the call went straight to voice mail. She left another message and added, “I hope you’re okay.”
Ivy prayed nothing had happened to her, though for Lea’s sake, not hers.
21
The airy, mid-century modern City Hall was perched on a cliff, commanding sweeping views of the village and ocean beyond. Its expansive windows framed the coastal scene like a postcard. Ivy stood beside Libby at the reception desk, where Nan greeted them with professional warmth.
