Wicked Decisions

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Wicked Decisions Page 9

by Lily Harper Hart


  Jack frowned. “But ... .”

  “No, Felicity is still on the hot seat.” Brian refused to let his partner see what he wanted to see rather than the evidence they had in front of them. “Right now, Felicity is still our prime suspect. She doesn’t have an alibi.”

  “She has an alibi. It’s just not a good one.” Jack was gloomy. “I really don’t think she’s capable of stabbing a woman multiple times ... especially knowing her niece — a woman she loves more than just about anyone — was in the next room.”

  Brian was silent for a beat. “You know we can’t completely eliminate Ivy until we manage to check Felicity off the list, right?”

  Jack balked. “Ivy is not a killer.”

  “Maybe not, but Ivy would protect her aunt. You know as well as I do that the prosecutor is going to argue that Ivy is lying to protect Felicity and, at the very least, she’s an accessory after the fact.”

  Jack wanted to punch his partner ... hard. “Ivy isn’t involved and you know it. Let’s play devil’s advocate, though. Why would Ivy call us if she was guilty? Why not just leave?”

  “Because she’s engaged to a police detective who thinks she walks on water and can do no wrong.”

  Jack glared. “I wouldn’t protect a murderer.”

  “No? I happen to believe you would do whatever you could to protect Ivy. I’ve seen you with her. She’s your ... everything.”

  Jack couldn’t argue with the assessment. “She is my everything. That doesn’t mean I would protect her if she was a killer. Heck, I wouldn’t love her the way I do if she was a killer.”

  Brian heaved out a long-suffering sigh. “I know. I’m just trying to work this out. I don’t believe Ivy is a killer. I don’t believe Felicity is either. We can’t mark either of them off the list, though. That could come back to bite us ... and them. We need to run this investigation by the book or things could spiral.”

  On the surface, Jack understood what his partner was saying. At his core, though, a small ball of rage was quietly growing. He didn’t like Brian’s attitude. Not even a little. “Let’s just follow the clues and go from there, shall we? I don’t think this conversation is getting us anywhere.”

  “Fair enough. I think our next stop should be the medical examiner. He’s probably told us everything he can, but it never hurts to double-check.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  Brian’s gaze was keen when he slid it to Jack. “Oh, don’t be that way. You know I hate it when you use that tone.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jack was purposely oblivious. “Let’s head to the morgue. You’re right that we should cover every single avenue. We need to do our jobs.”

  “I’m glad you agree.”

  “And when we’re done, you can tell me how sorry you are for questioning my fiancée.”

  “Ugh.” Brian made a face. “You’re going to be a pain for the duration, aren’t you?”

  “You have no idea.”

  IVY TRIED TO FOCUS ON HER work even though she was agitated. Her short conversation with her mother hadn’t left her in the best of moods.

  “Oh, not you, too.” Michael Morgan dropped the bag of mulch he was carrying on top of the display in front of the counter and frowned at his only daughter as she stared at nothing in particular. He knew his children well and could tell when one of them was about to unload. Ivy had that look ... and he wasn’t happy in the least.

  “Not me, too, what?” Ivy groused, making a face as she focused on her father. “I’m not doing anything.”

  “You’re not,” Michael agreed. He was technically retired, but during the spring and summer months he worked for his daughter. It wasn’t exactly a job to him. Oh, he put in the physical effort and pitched in wherever necessary, but he enjoyed it. He was the one who transferred his love of plants to his daughter and when she announced what she wanted to do with her life — start her own plant nursery — he was ridiculously proud. That didn’t mean there weren’t times when he chafed having to work in such close proximity with her. “You’re daydreaming ... or plotting is more likely.”

  Ivy scowled. “I’m not plotting. I’m just ... thinking.”

  “About your aunt?”

  Ivy nodded, morose. “I’m worried, Dad.” She hated admitting it, but she needed someone to talk to. Since her mother was being a pain, that left Michael. “I don’t know what to do about it either. I feel as if I’m being pulled in two different directions.”

  Michael folded his arms across his chest and eyed Ivy speculatively as he leaned against the stack of mulch. “Do you believe your aunt is a murderer?”

  “Of course not,” Ivy sputtered. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “That I’m worried. It doesn’t matter what I believe. It matters what the prosecutor believes.”

  “What does Jack say?”

  “He says he doesn’t believe Aunt Felicity is capable of murder.”

  “So ... what’s the problem?”

  “He’s not the one who brings charges. He’s afraid, Dad. He doesn’t want me to see it, but I can feel the worry coming off him like steam when he thinks I’m not paying attention. I don’t like it.”

  Michael found he didn’t like it either. He’d been leery of Jack when the man first appeared in their lives. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the taciturn police detective. In fact, he liked him a great deal. Ivy was still his only daughter. She was an adult, but she would always be his little girl. It didn’t take long for Michael to recognize that Jack was the best thing that had ever happened to Ivy and he stood back in an effort to allow them to work out their own lives. Sure, they made mistakes from time to time, but they were stronger because they muddled through together. If Jack was worried, though, that meant there was probably something to worry about.

  “I don’t understand,” he said finally. “It doesn’t make sense to me that anyone with eyes — or an ounce of brainpower — would believe Felicity is capable of committing cold-blooded murder. I mean ... it’s ridiculous. She’s the best person I know.”

  Ivy arched an eyebrow. “Even better than Mom?”

  Michael extended a warning finger. “Don’t cause trouble, Missy,” he warned. “You know what I mean. I’ve known Felicity almost as long as I’ve known your mother. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. She couldn’t have done this.”

  Since she believed the exact same thing, Ivy was glad to have her father back up her position. Of course, that didn’t mean they weren’t toiling under the same delusion.

  “Do you want to know the truth?” Ivy lowered her voice until it was barely a whisper and glanced around to make sure nobody was listening. Thankfully, it was just the two of them. The other workers were busy in the greenhouses and it was still early for customers. “I feel as if I don’t know Aunt Felicity at all right now because of the Henry thing. Did you know she was dating him?”

  Michael shifted uncomfortably. “No. I was just as surprised as you when I heard the news.”

  “I told Jack it was ludicrous. That it wasn’t possible ... but I’ve been thinking about it. If she really was dating Henry and keeping it secret, what else don’t we know?”

  In truth, that had been bothering Michael, too. “I don’t know, kid. I ... just don’t know.” He rolled his neck and stared at the cloudy sky. He was actually grateful for the lack of sun because the last thing he wanted was to toil under a cloud of heat and humidity when he was already feeling hot under the collar.

  “I’ve been trying to think about it since I heard last night,” Ivy supplied. “I can only ever remember her dating once or twice. I mean ... over my entire life. I remember that guy Chet when I was about twelve or so — and he was a real idiot — but he didn’t last long. I don’t remember anyone else.”

  “There was someone else,” Michael intoned quietly. “You probably don’t remember because you were young. His name was Dorian.”

  Ivy furrowe
d her brow. “I don’t recognize that name. Who was he?”

  “He owned a business in the Shadow Lake downtown, in fact it’s the same building Fanny leases now and runs her craft business out of. They met when he moved to the area and started attending various local business groups together.”

  “What sort of business?”

  “It was a custom framing business. It wasn’t exciting or anything. He and your aunt hit it off right away, though. They were infatuated with each other, to the point where your mother was convinced they would get married.”

  Ivy racked her brain. “I don’t remember him.”

  “You were young when he was around. Three, maybe four. He spent time with you and Max, though. Felicity liked to take you guys on adventures. Do you remember that?”

  “Not really. I mean ... I always remember her watching us. They weren’t really adventures, though.”

  “They were when Dorian was around. Once he showed you and Max The Goonies, and after he and Felicity took you looking for buried treasure.” Michael smiled at the memory. “He and Felicity buried some chest they found at a flea market. It was filled with fake trinkets and stuff. They spent an entire afternoon taking you and Max around town to follow clues. You had a great time.”

  A vague memory niggled at the back of Ivy’s brain, but she couldn’t quite grasp the memory. “Maybe ... .”

  “It definitely happened. Like I said, though, you were young.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “Life happened to him. There was a downturn in the economy and his business went under. He got a job in Detroit not long after. It was doing the same thing, but he no longer owned his own business. He was a little crushed, as I remember it.

  “Anyway, when he first had to move, he and Felicity tried to keep their relationship going,” he continued. “The distance grew to be too much, though, and they ultimately broke up. They remained friendly and talked on the phone occasionally. Eventually, though, they drifted apart.”

  The story bothered Ivy on multiple levels. “Did she love him?”

  “Hmm.” Michael broke from his reverie and shifted his eyes to Ivy so he could focus. “I don’t know. She never said those words, at least to me. I believe she did, though.”

  “Do you think he broke her heart?”

  “I think circumstances broke her heart,” he corrected. “Dorian was a good man. He didn’t want to hurt Felicity. He simply couldn’t make a living up here and she refused to move to the city even though he asked.”

  “Do you think she regretted that?”

  “Maybe. I don’t think she regretted staying close to us. I do think she missed him, though.”

  Ivy felt sick in her heart. “As much as I love you guys, if something happened and Jack had to leave, I would go with him.”

  “Of course you would. We’re family. We’ll always find a way to see one another. Jack is your heart, though. You belong together. Nothing will ever change that.”

  “Yeah.” Ivy scrubbed her cheek. “Do you think she’s had a broken heart all this time?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Maybe that’s why she lowered herself to date Henry ... because she couldn’t have what she really wanted and she was tired of pining for him. I mean ... that makes sense, right?”

  “I think it’s possible. You should probably talk to her about it, though.”

  “Yeah.” Ivy scuffed her foot against the ground and then shook her head. “I’m going to head to the back greenhouse. I have some items that need re-potting before we can move them to the front of the property.”

  “Go ahead.” Michael smiled encouragingly. “I can handle the front.”

  “Thanks.”

  IVY THREW HERSELF INTO HER work, attacking her plants with gusto. She didn’t want Felicity’s woes to completely derail her life ... although her mind kept wandering. She had no memory of this Dorian person. She couldn’t remember anyone even talking about him. Was that by design? She was curious enough that she made a mental note to ask Jack to help her track him down once this was all settled.

  For now, though, they had other things to worry about.

  “What are you doing?”

  Ivy almost jumped out of her skin when a new voice invaded her deep thoughts. She flicked her eyes to the left and frowned when she recognized Susan Bishop, the ghostly witch of the woods who had become something of a frequent visitor in her life.

  “Working,” Ivy replied dully. “What are you doing here?”

  Susan shrugged. She was ethereal, to the point where Ivy could see through her, but she was solid enough that she still felt like a real presence. “I was bored and decided to see what you were doing. I haven’t seen you in a bit.”

  “No,” Ivy agreed, nodding. “I’ve been a little busy.”

  “Planning for your wedding?” Susan’s eyes twinkled. “You must be excited.”

  That was the standard reaction to news that Ivy was getting married. While she was excited to be Jack’s wife, the wedding itself felt daunting. “I’m excited,” she said. “It’s just a lot of work ... and now we have some family drama to contend with.”

  Because an outsider’s perspective might be helpful, Ivy caught Susan up on recent events. She hadn’t seen the ghost in several weeks, so it felt like a long story. When she was finished, Susan looked intrigued.

  “And you’re sure your aunt isn’t a murderer?”

  Ivy pinned the long-dead ghost with a dark look. “I’m positive.”

  “Then that means someone else is responsible for this woman’s death. Do you have any other suspects?”

  “Just the other girlfriends.” Ivy made a face. “Technically, Jack isn’t supposed to tell me too much about his investigation. He will ... but it might not be absolutely everything he knows. I can’t be angry about that because it’s his job.”

  Susan chuckled, the sound low and throaty. “That won’t stop you from getting angry, will it?”

  “Probably not, but I’m still going to try to be a good girl. Jack deserves better than sharing a bed with an irate scream machine.”

  “He’s a good man.” Susan was matter-of-fact. “He’s good for you. He’ll keep you informed. He won’t be able to help himself.”

  Ivy happened to agree, so she decided to drop that particular point of contention. “I don’t know what to do for my aunt. I know she’s innocent, but I don’t know how to prove it.”

  “You could sit back and let the police do their jobs,” Susan suggested. “I’m sure Jack will do his best to clear your aunt.”

  “I could do that,” Ivy confirmed.

  “You won’t, though.”

  “Nope.”

  Susan’s smile spread. “Well, then I suggest you use magic.”

  Ivy jerked her head toward the ghost, clearly surprised at the notion. “Magic?”

  “You’re a witch,” Susan reminded her. “I know you’re still trying to wrap your head around it, but you are. The word might not be easy to swallow, but the magic is second nature to you. That’s why you can see me and others can’t.”

  Ivy didn’t want to focus on that. “How can I use magic to help my aunt?”

  “Oh, there are multiple ways to learn the truth,” Susan offered. “I can help you ... if you’re interested, that is.”

  Ivy was beyond intrigued. “Oh, I’m interested.” It was more than just helping Felicity. Now that she was more comfortable with the magic that had been popping up with more and more frequency, she was eager to learn more about her potential. This seemed like a great place to start. “What should we do first?”

  Susan laughed with delight. “I’m glad you asked. Come with me.” She gestured toward the back door of the greenhouse. “We should take a walk so we can talk in private. I don’t want to risk someone overhearing. Personally, I would be fine with it. You, on the other hand, might develop a reputation for talking to yourself. That probably wouldn’t be good.”

  Ivy couldn’t argue so she readily sto
od up. “Okay. I’m game.”

  “I figured you would be. Let the lessons begin.”

  Ten

  The trip to the medical examiner’s office turned out to be a waste of time. There was nothing new to glean from the body. It would be turned over to Patsy the following day so she could start planning her mother’s memorial service.

  With nothing better to do and no leads that pointed them toward a conclusive culprit, they returned to the scene of the crime for another walk-through.

  “It doesn’t make a lot of sense to me,” Brian admitted as they stared at the closed loading bay door. “Why do you think the door was open?”

  Jack hadn’t given it much consideration. “I don’t know. Maybe she liked having a glimpse of the outdoors.”

  “Yeah, but ... it’s just an alley.” Brian opened the door so he could look both ways. “The clock store is that way, as well as Fanny’s craft store. The coffee shop is that way.” He gestured for emphasis even though Jack understood the geography. “This is strictly a business alley. I don’t think there are any locals who even bother to walk this way.”

  Jack could see that. “It’s not exactly picturesque,” he noted, joining his partner. “There are trees, but they’re hidden behind a brick wall. The rest of the town is cute, a tourist’s dream. This alley is forgotten because there’s nothing to see.”

  “Kids come down it occasionally on their skateboards and scooters. It’s a way for them to avoid the busy sidewalks. Delivery trucks come twice a week ... and mostly to the coffee shop. I think Zelda probably only got one delivery a month that was big enough to deliver back here ... which meant most of her deliveries came through the front door.”

  Jack felt as if he was trying to catch up. “What does that have to do with anything? Are you suggesting a delivery man did this?”

  Brian shrugged, noncommittal. “It’s possible, right?”

  Honestly, Jack didn’t believe that. “That doesn’t explain the earring.”

  “True.” Brian pursed his lips and scuffed his shoe against the ground as he studied the exterior of the door. “I don’t know that Zelda often had this door open. Maybe in the summer months, when it was warmer, but I’ve cut down this alley enough times to recognize it wasn’t a regular occurrence. There’s probably no way of knowing why she had it open yesterday.”

 

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