Wicked Season (An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book 7)

by Lily Harper Hart

  “I can’t comment without knowing more about the hidden money.”

  “Well, back when we were in high school, a lot of the guys worked seasonally for Ron,” Ivy explained. “They were cheap labor and it’s not as if there are a lot of jobs in this area for teenagers.”

  “That makes sense.” Jack rolled his neck until it cracked. “I worked at fast food joints when I was a teenager, but Shadow Lake has no fast food restaurants. The kids need to pick up extra work somewhere.”

  “Max worked out there one summer and said it was the hardest work he’d ever done. He came home exhausted every night, his muscles aching. He always smelled like manure and was dirty, too. I took to making cow noises when he walked past.”

  “Such a good sister,” Jack teased, tweaking her nose. “You still haven’t told me about the money, though, and I’m getting impatient.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry. I get distracted in my head sometimes.”

  “It’s a woman thing. Continue.”

  “I’m going to ignore that comment because once my food digests I’m going to want to take a romantic bath and I don’t want to be fighting when we do it,” Ivy said. “As for the money, Max told me that Ron was seen wandering out of the house once a week with a jar of money. Apparently he would disappear on the property and when he returned the jar would be gone.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Well, of course all of the teenagers in the area thought Ron was burying jars of money because … well … teenagers are stupid and greedy.”

  Jack snorted. “Did you believe it? Did you think Ron was burying money out there?”

  Ivy shrugged. “I don’t know what else he would be doing with the money. He had to be putting those jars somewhere, right?”

  “I guess that makes sense, although … why wouldn’t he just put it in the bank?”

  “Some people hate banks.”

  “Still, that doesn’t exactly seem smart to me,” Jack noted. “I mean, if these farms are running so close to the red line, why risk someone stealing your money?”

  “You have a point, but the truth is that no one ever found any money on the property,” Ivy replied. “People looked, too. For like three weeks after the rumor started people would get drunk every other night and show up at the farm so they could dig for buried treasure. It got to be such a problem that the police issued a few citations for trespassing.”

  “Did you get one?”

  “I never even considered digging on someone else’s property so I could steal their money.”

  “That’s because you’re my good girl,” Jack drawled, poking her side. “So no one ever found money, but Ron supposedly buried it all of the time. Now Ron is dead and someone is digging holes. I have to wonder if that legend lived longer in some people’s memories than others.”

  “That seems like a reasonable assumption to me.”

  “I don’t suppose … .” Jack broke off, conflicted.

  “You don’t suppose what?”

  “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to wander out there with me tomorrow and see if you sense anything, would you?”

  Ivy stilled. “Sense?”

  “Honey, I know you don’t want to talk about it, but you’ve developed something of a talent for discerning things over the past few months,” Jack pointed out. “A few weeks ago you were seeing through the eyes of a killer.”

  “I don’t want to do that again.” Ivy’s voice was barely a whisper.

  Jack framed her face and held her chin steady as he stared at her. “I don’t want you to do it either, but if you’re out there and can sense anything … well … you would be putting your friend Gilly’s mind at ease before she gives birth.”

  “Oh, now you’re playing dirty.”

  “You don’t have to,” Jack said. “It was just a thought.”

  “Oh, don’t give me that look.” Ivy rolled her eyes. “We both know I’m going to do whatever you ask. I’ll go out there with you tomorrow.”

  “Thank you.” Jack pressed a soft kiss to Ivy’s mouth. “Did you mean what you said?”

  “About going? Yeah.”

  “No, about doing whatever I ask.”

  Ivy made a disgusted face. “What did you have in mind?”

  Jack’s smile was impish as he slipped his arm under her legs and lifted. “Well, for starters, I thought we could take that bath you were talking about.”

  “And then?”

  “We’ll see where the night takes us.”

  “As long as it takes us someplace together, I’m fine with an adventure,” Ivy offered. “We might want to grab the pie first, though. I’ve never eaten pie in a bathtub and that somehow sounds magical to me.”

  “I love the way your mind works.”

  “You just want the pie.”

  “I just want you and the pie. I’m a simple man.”

  “And yet you complicate everything in my life and make it so much better.”

  Jack’s heart warmed at her words. “Right back at you, honey. Now grab that pie. It’s time for a Thanksgiving treat. I have a feeling this is going to be one for the record books.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  Nineteen

  “How are you going to explain me being here?” Ivy asked the next morning as she exited Jack’s police vehicle and joined him for the walk toward the McDonald farmhouse. “Most guys I know don’t take their girlfriends along when they investigate a murder.”

  “Most guys don’t have a girlfriend as pretty as you.”

  Ivy made an exaggerated face. “You’re so full of yourself.”

  “I’m pretty sure that was a compliment for you,” Jack pointed out. “Don’t worry about the explanation. I’ve got it all under control.”

  Jack pasted a smile on his face when he saw Wayne wander out from the barn. The man mustered a wan smile – even though it didn’t make it all the way up to his eyes – but his gaze drifted toward Ivy almost immediately.

  “Hi, Wayne.” Ivy opened her arms to give Wayne a hug, which he gladly returned, and patted him on the shoulder as they separated. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Ron was a really good man.”

  “He was the best,” Wayne agreed. “Thank you for stopping by to give your condolences, Ivy, but you didn’t need to go out of your way to do it.”

  “Oh, well … .” Ivy shot a pointed look in Jack’s direction.

  “Her car broke down,” Jack lied. “I was on the way to drop her off in Bellaire with her aunt for the day, but I decided to check in here first. I didn’t think it would be an issue.”

  “It’s never an issue,” Wayne said, fondly patting Ivy’s hand as he held it. “I’ve always been one of Ivy’s biggest fans. In fact, when her brother worked here many moons ago she used to bring him lunch occasionally and it brightened everyone’s day because she was always a joy to be around.”

  “That’s not exactly the way I remember it,” Ivy said, grinning. “I only came out here to torture Max.”

  “Yes, I remember some vigorous mooing. That’s why you were such a joy to be around. Even when you were torturing your brother, you were delightful.”

  “She sounds like a little devil to me,” Jack said, although he winked at Ivy to let her know he was kidding. “Speaking of torturing people, I don’t suppose you’ve figured out who’s digging the holes yet, have you?”

  Wayne arched a surprised eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were aware of that little … development. It’s turning into a real issue. We have no idea who is doing it and yet they keep sprouting up.”

  “I don’t like sticking my nose in where it doesn’t belong, but … there was a weird rumor when we were kids and a lot of people believed Ron was burying money in jars out here,” Ivy interjected. “When Jack told me about the holes I remembered that.”

  Wayne chuckled, his eyes lighting up. “Yes, I remember that time period, too. My brother was a real prankster, but it got out of hand and even he had to admit that things were spiraling so he stopped messin
g with the boys.”

  “I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying,” Jack admitted.

  “Ron thought it would be funny to walk out of the house with a jar of money and disappear with it,” Wayne explained. “The thing is, once he got out of sight, he always took the money and put it in his pocket. Then he stored the glass jar in one of the other barns.”

  “He wanted his workers to gossip? That doesn’t sound very productive,” Jack said

  “When you’ve got twenty boys – all of a certain age – and there are no girls to distract them, well, we’ve found productivity is a state of mind,” Wayne said. “We wanted the boys to talk while they were working because it seemed to keep them on task, but when that talk turned to girls and boasting … well … let’s just say teenage boys can be easily distracted.”

  Jack chuckled at the suggestion, rubbing his chin as he considered the statement. “I guess that’s certainly possible,” he said. “I remember getting a bit distracted by the fairer sex when I was that age.”

  Ivy made an exaggerated face. “The fairer sex? Do you have any idea how insulting that is?”

  “I just said you were pretty,” Jack argued. “How is that insulting?”

  “You insinuated I was also somehow weaker.”

  “I did not.”

  “You did, too.”

  “I did not.”

  “You did, too.”

  Wayne chuckled as he shook his head, delighted. “I see the rumors about you two getting fiery and fighting aren’t exaggerated,” he said. “Personally, I think he was complimenting you, Ivy. You shouldn’t bust his chops for that.”

  “Yes, well, I guess I’ll let it slide this time.”

  Jack smirked as he locked gazes with her, a million ideas about how they could spend their afternoon once they were done at the farm flitting through his head. He only allowed his mind to wander for a few seconds, though, before returning to the task at hand.

  “What about the gun?” Jack prodded. “Have you uncovered any news on that?”

  “Well, as far as I can tell, a lot of people either want to own a Colt or actually do own one,” Wayne replied. “The thing is, even those who manage to get their hands on them seem to have a little trouble. Most of the guns are so old they need parts to work and others bought outright fakes from people trying to swindle them.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because Lionel said that Tate Davenport was boasting he had one, but when he showed it to everyone it was clearly a weapon designed after the 1930s and someone simply left it out in the rain to make it look older.”

  “Oh, well, huh.” Jack wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Did you come up with anyone who was overheard talking about the gun?”

  Losing interest in the conversation, Ivy strolled away from Jack’s side and headed toward the barn. She didn’t walk toward the building with a purpose as much as she opted to open up her senses and wander accordingly. She didn’t even realize what she was doing until she found herself in the dimly lit structure, her eyes bouncing around as she extended her hand to touch the faded wood on the nearby suspension pole.

  “Are you lost?”

  Ivy jolted at the voice, swiveling quickly to find Lionel French leaning against one of the storage bins, arms crossed and staring at her. “You frightened me. I didn’t see you standing there.”

  “I’m sorry about that,” Lionel said, straightening as he looked Ivy up and down. “You’re the Morgan girl, aren’t you?”

  “Ivy.”

  “That’s right. Ivy. I knew you were named after a plant. I just couldn’t remember which one. Your daddy is Michael, right?”

  Ivy nodded. “And Max is my brother. He worked out here one summer. I believe you were here at the time.”

  “I remember Max,” Lionel said, chuckling as he pushed away from the bin and moved closer. “He was a fruity kid.”

  Ivy balked. “Fruity? What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Just that he was odd,” Lionel replied. “He was a good worker, don’t get me wrong, but he had a terrible habit of trying to be the center of attention. He would do odd things – like hop on top of the tractor and pretend he was surfing – and then wonder why he got yelled at.”

  Ivy pursed her lips. In general, she didn’t like anyone making fun of her brother. Er, well, except for her. She could picture Max acting like a moron and crop surfing, though. That sounded just like him. “Well, as long as he didn’t hurt anyone, I don’t see what the problem is.”

  “He could’ve hurt himself.”

  “But he didn’t.”

  “No, he didn’t.” Lionel shook his head, his eyes lighting up. “You’re loyal. You didn’t like me calling your brother fruity and it raised your hackles. I can see it.”

  “My brother is loyal to me, which is why I’m loyal to him.”

  “That’s how it should be between siblings,” Lionel said, bobbing his head. “I had a brother a long time ago. He was always loyal to me, too. When he died I was pretty sad because I knew no one would ever be that loyal to me again.”

  “Didn’t you ever marry?” Ivy asked, allowing herself to relax as she moved farther into the barn. “I think sibling loyalty is lovely, but I think the loyalty between a man and a woman – or a man and a man and a woman and a woman, as the case may be – can offer a different type of magic.”

  “I never saw the need to marry,” Lionel replied. Ivy had no idea if he was supposed to be working, but he seemed oddly content to shirk his duties and shoot the breeze with her. “I wanted a nomadic life when I was younger and no woman wants to live that way.”

  “I don’t think that’s true. There are all sorts of women.”

  “What about you?”

  “Me?”

  “Would you want to live a life hopping from town to town, from farm to farm?”

  Ivy shrugged. “I haven’t given it much thought, but probably not. I own my own business, though, and that’s what appeals to me. I know there are people out there who love to wander.”

  “What about your boyfriend? If he wanted to move, would you go with him?”

  Ivy opened her mouth, a negative reply on her lips, but when she really considered the question she couldn’t come up with a reasonable answer. Her head told her that leaving her business and home – even for Jack – would be a mistake. Her heart told her that living without Jack would rip her apart. She wasn’t sure if she could live with that sort of pain. “I have no idea. I guess I’m lucky that Jack wants to stay here.”

  “I guess so,” Lionel said. “Even if he left you, though, you still have your brother. Blood is thicker than everything.”

  As much as Ivy loved her family, she didn’t believe that for a second. “Love is thicker than everything,” she corrected. “Sometimes love comes with blood and sometimes it doesn’t. Speaking of blood, though, you’ve been around here a long time. Did you ever notice any issues between Wayne and Ron?”

  Lionel widened his eyes, surprised. As far as transitions go, Ivy had to admit that it wasn’t her best offering.

  “Wayne and Ron were close,” Lionel replied after a beat. “They didn’t fight.”

  “Ever?” Ivy arched a challenging eyebrow. “I’m close with Max and yet we fight all of the time.”

  “Well, I guess everyone has little fights,” Lionel said. “I thought you were talking about the big fights.”

  “I’m talking about any fights.”

  “I didn’t realize you were an investigator.”

  “And I didn’t realize you were such a master at dodging questions,” Ivy shot back, Lionel’s superior attitude grating on her fraying nerves.

  “I’m not dodging questions, I’m simply not giving you the answers you were looking for,” Lionel said. “For the record, I think Ron was a terrific boss and I’m fond of Wayne. I think he’ll fill in admirably for his brother.”

  “That wasn’t the question,” Ivy pressed. “Did they fight?”

  “Of
course they fought. They were brothers. You said it yourself: Siblings fight.”

  Ivy absentmindedly scratched her cheek as she stared at Lionel. His stance suggested he was open and telling the truth, but he seemed awfully evasive for someone who worked overtime to give off an “aw shucks” vibe. “Did they fight about money?”

  “It’s a farm. Money is the biggest thing there is to fight about.”

  “Do you know something you’re not saying?” Ivy had no idea why she asked the question, but she couldn’t stop herself. Curiosity was always one of her biggest curses. Oddly, it was one of her biggest strengths, too.

  “I know a lot of things I’m not saying,” Lionel replied. “They’re not necessarily about this, though.”

  Ivy opened her mouth to push Lionel further but that’s when Jack found her. The look he shot in her direction as he strode toward her was one that promised snippy comments rather than kisses and snuggling.

  “Why did you take off?”

  “I didn’t take off,” Ivy replied, flashing a smile. “I walked into the barn and got to talking with Lionel.”

  “Yes, it was an absolutely delightful interlude,” Lionel deadpanned.

  Jack made a face as he stared down the man. “Okay,” he said after a beat. “Are you ready to go, honey? It’s getting cold and I want to get you back to town.”

  “I thought you were taking her to Bellaire,” Lionel interjected. “That’s what you told Wayne when you approached him, isn’t it?”

  Jack narrowed his eyes. “Were you eavesdropping?”

  “I was working. It’s not my fault you have a voice that carries.”

  “Yes, well, things change,” Jack said, gripping Ivy’s elbow as he drew her closer. “We’re going back to Shadow Lake.”

  “Okay then. Have a nice drive.” Lionel turned on his heel and it was only when he was already out of the barn that Ivy realized he never denied knowing something about Ron’s death. He merely said he knew a lot about a variety of different things.

  “Are you okay?” Jack asked, his expression reflecting concern as he brushed his knuckles over her cheek.