Wicked Times (An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book 3)

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Wicked Times (An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book 3) Page 12

by Lily Harper Hart


  “That’s a pretty good question,” Jack said. “I called Laura Simmons and she thought Marcus’ gun burned up when he did.”

  “I don’t know that I’ve ever asked that specific question, but I think everyone assumed that,” Rick said, rubbing his jaw. “I’m just … I can’t believe this. I’m doubly impressed by you, Ivy. It’s not every woman who can go from gunshot wound to investigation adventure in the blink of an eye.”

  “I didn’t want to be away from Jack,” Ivy admitted.

  “There was no way I was letting her out of my sight,” Jack added. “Never again.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Ivy’s temple. “I need to know who would care about Marcus enough to go after me. Whoever it is had to have access to his weapon.”

  “You knew him better than I did.”

  “It turns out I didn’t know him at all,” Jack corrected, leaning back as the waitress delivered their appetizers. Conversation ceased until she left, and then Jack lowered his voice. “I’m going to have to go and see his mother and I’m not looking forward to it.”

  Ivy dished one of the stuffed tomatoes onto her plate and dug in, her eyes lighting up. “Oh, wow.”

  “I told you,” Jack said. “Now you’re going to owe me later.”

  “I’m looking forward to paying up,” Ivy said, happily enjoying her food. Jack watched her a moment, amused, and then turned back to Rick. “Has anyone seen Janet since any of this went down?”

  “I know a few of the guys went to Marcus’ funeral,” Rick said, reaching for his own tomato. “Even the ones who knew he was guilty wanted to pay their respects for Janet’s sake. I didn’t go, but my understanding is that there were fewer than ten people there in total.”

  “And no one has seen her since?”

  Rick shook his head. “I’m sure it was hard for her to come to us and no one knew what to say to her so they stayed away,” he said, grinning as he watched ivy enthusiastically dig into the humus. “Don’t you ever feed that girl?”

  “We’ve had a long couple of days,” Jack said. “She’s making up for lost time. How do you think Janet is going to react to me showing up?”

  “Well, I think Janet is one of those people who probably thinks her son was framed,” Rick answered. “You don’t have a choice, though. You have to talk to her. Do you want me to go with you?”

  Jack shook his head. “I think it will be better if it’s just me.” He cast a sidelong look at Ivy. “And my girlfriend, if she’s still thin enough to fit through the door, that is.”

  Ivy frowned. “I heard that.”

  “There is one thing you should be aware of,” Rick said, his tone serious. “After Marcus’ death, Janet and Laura filed a lawsuit against the city claiming there was a cover up and Marcus was murdered. Last time I heard it was still winding its way through the courts. She’s not liable to be welcoming to you if she really believes what’s in that suit.”

  “Well, like you said, I don’t have a choice,” Jack said, leaning back as the waitress returned with their entrees.

  Ivy’s eyes widened as she took in her new offerings. “It’s probably good we don’t live down here,” she said. “I would be as big as a house.”

  Jack chuckled. “Something tells me I wouldn’t be able to stay away from you even if that was the case.”

  “Something tells me you two are about to go nuclear,” Rick said, shaking his head. “Welcome to Detroit, Ivy. I think you’re about the best thing that ever happened to this man.”

  “I know she is,” Jack said.

  Sixteen

  “What’s bugging you?” Ivy followed Jack down a quiet street after dinner, their fingers linked, and watched him as his mind worked.

  “What?” Jack glanced at Ivy. “Did you say something?”

  “I’m trying not to take it personally that you forgot I was even here.”

  “I could never forget you,” Jack replied. “I’m just … something is bugging me.”

  Ivy waited patiently.

  “Laura never mentioned suing the city when we talked,” Jack said. “She never said a single thing about it.”

  “Maybe she didn’t feel comfortable talking about it with you,” Ivy suggested. “She must feel really … awkward … about what happened. If she doesn’t believe her brother is guilty, she might believe you’re part of the cover up.”

  “Laura always struck me as a straight shooter,” Jack countered. “She was a little flaky sometimes, but she wasn’t the type to lie. If she was uncomfortable with me calling, she would’ve told me and hung up.”

  “What do you mean ‘she was flaky?’ Are you insinuating she was crazy or something?”

  Jack chuckled. “No. She was more … bohemian.”

  Ivy raised a challenging eyebrow. “I’m bohemian. Does that make me flaky?”

  “Don’t even try to pick a fight,” Jack warned. “In general you’re one of the least flaky people I know.”

  “In general? Can you clarify that for my flaky brain?”

  “Fine,” Jack said, blowing out a frustrated sigh. “If you want to know the truth, you do the occasional flaky thing.”

  “Like what?”

  Jack grinned. He loved it when she got fiery. “Well, for starters, I once watched you tell a cult member that we were out hunting for mushrooms when he caught us spying on him.”

  “He bought it, didn’t he?”

  “You locked Kelly in your bedroom and fought off a masked intruder on your own instead of hiding with her,” Jack added, referring to a traumatized teen Ivy helped a few weeks before.

  “That was a perfectly legitimate reaction to the situation.”

  Jack rolled his eyes. “How about when you went for a walk in the woods alone one day after being shot?”

  Ivy ceased moving forward and pulled her hand away so she could place it on her hip. “I needed time to think. I was upset. You left me in the hospital and I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I was gardening but … I had a weird feeling that someone was watching me … so I took a walk. It was a good thing, too, since you were the one watching me.”

  Jack frowned. “First off, I can never express how sorry I am for walking out of that hospital,” he said. “I will beg you to forgive me for the rest of my life if it comes to it. I know what I did was horrible.”

  Ivy’s expression softened. “Jack, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

  “You can bring it up whenever you want,” Jack said. “I deserve it. Go back to the part about someone watching you garden.”

  “Not someone. You.”

  “Honey, I didn’t watch you garden that day,” Jack said, rolling his neck until it cracked. “I was too upset to go near your house. I was terrified of running into you.”

  “Then who … ?”

  “I don’t know,” Jack said, hating the fear in her eyes. “Did you actually see someone or just sense them?”

  “I just had that feeling you get when you know someone is watching you. I … after I ran into you at the lake, I assumed it was you.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this when you saw me that day?” Jack was trying really hard to rein in his temper. It wasn’t working. “You could’ve worked it in between the harsh words and the slap.”

  “You deserved that slap!”

  Jack grabbed the front of Ivy’s shirt and hauled her to his chest, planting a huge kiss on her lips before separating. “I did deserve that slap. You still should’ve told me. Someone could’ve been watching us that entire time.”

  “I know,” Ivy said, her expression rueful as he lowered back to the ground. “I … I forgot about it until just now. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry, honey,” Jack said. “This is on me. I upset you. I caused you to lose your head.”

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, Ivy couldn’t help but make a face. “Are you suggesting that you caused me to go temporarily insane?”

  Jack shot her a charming grin. “I plan on doing it when we get ba
ck to my old house tonight, too. I’m just going to use different methods.”

  They lapsed back into amiable silence, the new information running through Jack’s mind as Ivy considered what else she might’ve missed that day. They reached for each other’s hands at the same time, meeting halfway.

  “Do you think Laura is capable of killing someone?” Ivy asked after a few moments. “You said she was flaky and bohemian – just like me. That doesn’t sound like a killer.”

  “She’s nothing like you,” Jack said. “I didn’t say you were flaky. I said you occasionally do flaky things.”

  “That’s the same thing,” Ivy muttered.

  “It’s not even remotely the same thing, so stop your pouting,” Jack ordered. “You’re right, though. The Laura I knew wasn’t capable of murdering someone. Whoever walked up to Mark Dalton on the street picked him because he was in close proximity to us. That person looked him in the face before shooting him. They were close. I don’t think Laura has that in her.”

  “Oh, my … .” Ivy’s face drained of color.

  “What’s wrong?” Jack asked, worried.

  “I never put that together,” Ivy admitted, her lower lip trembling. “I never even wondered why Mark Dalton was chosen. It’s because we were on the street and someone wanted to get your attention because they were watching us and knew you were close. The fact that he was a police officer was just a happy coincidence.”

  “It’s okay, Ivy,” Jack said. “None of this is your fault.”

  “It’s not your fault either,” Ivy challenged, regaining her senses.

  “It’s not my fault,” Jack conceded. “Mark Dalton would still be alive if it weren’t for me, though. That’s something I’m going to have to live with.”

  “Well, by that way of thinking, Mark Dalton would still be alive if you didn’t go out of your way to pick a vegetarian restaurant for me,” Ivy countered. “He would still be alive if I ate meat.”

  “Okay, I get what you’re saying,” Jack said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “We could play this game all night. I’m not in the mood, though. I would rather get this really uncomfortable conversation with Janet out of the way and then play another game with you.”

  A small smile played at the corner of Ivy’s lips. “What game is that?”

  “Have you ever played naked Twister?”

  “No.”

  “Then you’re in for a real treat,” Jack said, winking. “Come on. Let’s get this over with, shall we? I can think of at least a hundred other things I would rather being doing, and each and every one of them involves you being naked.”

  “I DON’T think anyone is home,” Ivy said a few minutes later, watching Jack as he shielded his eyes on the front bay window of Janet Simmons’ home so he could peer inside. She scuffed at the accumulated newspapers on the front porch. “I’m not sure she’s been here in quite some time, in fact.”

  Jack glanced at Ivy. He had the same feeling. The house looked deserted. “Where would she go?”

  “I don’t know,” Ivy answered. “Maybe she left town because she didn’t want everyone staring at her. In a neighborhood like this I’m sure everyone was asking her questions and causing trouble because of what her son did.”

  “Why would they cause trouble?” Jack asked, extending his hand to take Ivy’s and drag her around the side of the house.

  “Because most people don’t like it when a cop is shot and left for dead,” Ivy replied. “She probably got hate mail.”

  “I think you watch too much television,” Jack said, leading Ivy down the side wall of the house, stopping periodically to gaze through windows.

  “Are you supposed to be acting like a peeping Tom? It’s kind of freaking me out.”

  “I’m trying to decide if anyone has been here or is coming back,” Jack replied, trying the back door to see if it would open. “I need to know where to look next. If Janet has left, we’re back to square one.”

  “Laura didn’t mention her mother moving, did she?”

  “No. In fact she said that Janet took Marcus’ cremains and put them in an urn on her fireplace mantle,” Jack said, sheltering his eyes again. “She didn’t give a hint that her mother may have moved. I … .” Jack broke off and narrowed his eyes, gripping Ivy’s hand tighter.

  “What is it?”

  “Honey, I need you to call 911,” Jack said quietly.

  Ivy’s heart sped up, even though she had no idea why. “What?”

  “Never mind,” Jack said, reaching into his own pocket. “I’ll do it. Can you move right over there for me?” He pointed to a spot just off the patio. He was using his patented “cop” voice.

  “Jack, what’s going on?”

  Jack moved with Ivy, keeping a firm hand on her shoulder as he waited for an operator to pick up on the other end. “Yes, I’d like to report a dead body.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “HERE WE are,” Jack said wearily four hours later, his shoulders slouched as he killed the engine of his truck in front of a nondescript bungalow.

  Ivy glanced around the quiet neighborhood. “I don’t hear any gunshots.”

  Jack forced a watery smile for her benefit. “No one will shoot you here. I promise.”

  Emergency personnel arrived at the Simmons house quickly, declaring Janet Simmons not only dead, but also partially mummified. Ivy wasn’t sure what that meant, but she had a feeling Janet was dead on her floor for more than a few days. “Jack … .”

  “Let’s talk about it tomorrow, honey. There’s a lot I need to wrap my mind around, and I’m not ready to do it now. I’m too tired tonight. Is that okay?”

  Ivy mutely nodded. Jack hopped out of his truck and moved around to the passenger side to collect Ivy. He grabbed their bags from the back and herded her toward the house. It wasn’t until they were already on the other side of the door, Jack engaging three separate locks to keep them safe, that Ivy realized what he was doing.

  “Did you just shield me with your body for the walk up the sidewalk?”

  Jack stilled. “Not if it’s going to cause a fight.”

  Ivy sighed. “I don’t want to fight either. Don’t do that again, though.”

  “No promises,” Jack murmured, flipping the hallway light and leading Ivy down to a bare bedroom. There was nothing inside but a bed and dresser.

  Ivy looked around blankly and Jack followed her bouncing gaze. “What’s wrong?”

  “This doesn’t feel like a home, Jack,” Ivy said, the sparse walls causing her heart to constrict. “No wonder you couldn’t breathe here. This place would suffocate anyone.”

  “I never really thought of it as anything other than a place to sleep when I was done with work every day,” Jack admitted, dropping the bags he was carrying on the floor next to the bed. “I never really considered what a home was until I met you. You’re my home now.”

  Ivy’s cheeks burned, and when she risked a glance at Jack she almost burst into tears due to the earnest expression on his face. “I really wish you would’ve gotten your head out of your ass sooner so we didn’t miss so much time together.”

  Jack barked out a laugh. “You’re not the only one,” he said, opening his arms. “Come on, honey. Let’s go to bed. There’s nothing left here for us. We’ll go home first thing tomorrow.”

  Ivy stepped into his embrace, resting her head against his chest and snuggling close. “What do you think all of this means, Jack?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why would someone kill Marcus Simmons’ mother?”

  “Maybe Marcus had a partner I didn’t know about,” Jack suggested. “Maybe someone is trying to clean up Marcus’ mess. Maybe Janet knew something.”

  “Like what?”

  Jack rubbed the back of Ivy’s neck, unconsciously swaying with her in his arms. “Maybe Janet knew what Marcus was up to all along,” he said. “Maybe she was involved.”

  “Or maybe Laura knew.”

  Jack faltered. He’d been thinki
ng the same thing himself. Ivy’s intuition was a marvel. “That could be it, too,” he conceded. “I just don’t know what to think.”

  Ivy pulled back so she could meet Jack’s somber eyes. “Well, I know one thing we can do,” she said.

  Jack’s expression brightened. “Oh, yeah? What?”

  Ivy pointed toward the huge garden tub in the adjoining bathroom. “I’ve always wanted to take a bath in a Jacuzzi tub.”

  Jack chuckled. “Well, it seems city life has some merit after all, doesn’t it?”

  “I don’t know,” Ivy said. “I’m willing to give it a shot, though.”

  “Then come on, honey. I’ll show you what a real bath looks like.”

  Seventeen

  “We’ll be home in about a half hour,” Jack said the next afternoon, talking to Brian on his cell phone as he navigated the country road. “Okay. I’ll meet you at the station as soon as I get Ivy settled.”

  Jack disconnected and turned his attention to Ivy. She’d been largely quiet for the duration of their four-hour drive. They slept in as long as they could, the realities of Janet’s death and their attempts at a playful bath warring to the point where they were both exhausted.

  Rick showed up at the house with the autopsy report shortly before ten, apologizing profusely when he saw Ivy’s bedhead – and grim face – and laughing nervously when Jack told him to ignore her because she wasn’t a morning person.

  They left soon after. There was nothing keeping them in the city.

  “Do you want to talk, Ivy?” Jack asked. “I have to go to work for a few hours once I get you home. Now is the time if you want to ask questions.”

  “I don’t know,” Ivy admitted. “I’m kind of freaked out by what Rick told us this morning.”

  “Which part?” Jack asked. “The part where she was shot with the same gun, or the part where the house was so dry she mummified? I’m a little freaked out by that, too. I’ve heard of it happening, but I never thought I would see it.”

  “The part where she was dead for at least a month and no one noticed,” Ivy said, her voice small.

 

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