Wicked Dreams

by Lily Harper Hart

  “But … we haven’t done anything,” Emily said.

  “Ma’am, get your husband.”

  DEREK Gideon was a short man with a big waistline. His ample stomach hung over his waistband, and his round face was red as he greeted Brian and Jack with a welcoming – and yet forced – smile.

  “How can I help you?”

  “We need to ask you some questions about Kelly Sisto,” Brian said, shaking his head when Emily offered him a glass of iced tea. “We understand that she’s your ward.”

  “She’s been living here for the past fifteen months,” Derek said. “Has she done something?”

  “No,” Brian said. “We’re trying to find out what happened to her.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” Kelly said, clasping her hands on her lap. “Nothing has happened to her.”

  “When was the last time you saw Kelly?” Jack asked.

  “This morning,” Emily said. “She got up early and said she was going to the library to read. She doesn’t like to spend a lot of time with the younger kids.”

  “Ma’am, we know that’s not true,” Jack said. “Kelly didn’t spend the night in this house.”

  “I … .” Emily broke off, biting her lower lip and shooting a look in her husband’s direction.

  “What’s going on?” Derek asked.

  “Kelly was found in Shadow Lake yesterday,” Brian said. “She was hiding in a greenhouse at a local business. Her arms were bruised, and she was traumatized to the point where she screamed when anyone tried to approach her.”

  “I … that’s not possible,” Derek said. “She has a curfew. She has to be in this house by nine every night.”

  “And you’re saying you saw her last night?”

  “Of course,” Derek said. “We’re diligent foster parents. We take care of the kids the state places with us. I don’t know what you think … .”

  “I’ll tell you exactly what I think,” Jack interrupted. “I think you take kids from the state to get the paycheck. I don’t think you’ve seen Kelly in days, maybe weeks even. I think you’re trying to cover your asses, but it’s not going to work because we’ve had Kelly for the past twenty-four hours. Stop lying.”

  “Don’t you dare accuse me of anything,” Derek snapped.

  “We’re not accusing you of anything,” Brian said, shooting Jack a dark look before focusing back on the Gideons. “I raised a few teenagers. I know how troublesome they can be. We need to put a timeline together, though. Something happened to Kelly, and we need to know what.”

  “Why don’t you just ask her?”

  “She’s not keen on talking right now,” Brian said.

  “What happened to her?” Emily asked.

  “We’re not sure yet,” Brian replied. “She’s … adjusting … right now. When she’s ready to talk, she’ll talk.”

  “She should be with us,” Derek said. “We’re her guardians.”

  “She’s … good where she’s at,” Brian said.

  “She’s safe,” Jack added.

  “Are you insinuating she wouldn’t be safe here?” Derek asked. “We’re good foster parents. We take this job very seriously.”

  “Obviously,” Jack replied dryly. “A good foster parent always lies to law enforcement about a child in their care.”

  “Hey, you have no idea what we’re dealing with here,” Derek said. “We’ve got four mouths to feed under this roof, and that’s not counting us. Kelly is a teenager. She doesn’t need constant supervision.”

  “No one was suggesting she did,” Brian said. “The fact remains that Kelly has been gone for at least twenty-four hours. You either knew and didn’t report it or you didn’t know. I’m not sure which prospect is worse, quite frankly.”

  “Kelly doesn’t always stay here,” Emily said.

  “Shut up, Emily,” Derek snapped.

  “No,” Emily said, shaking her head. “She’s a teenager. She kind of … comes and goes as she pleases.”

  “I thought she had a curfew,” Jack said.

  “She does,” Derek said.

  “Okay, I’ve had just about enough of this,” Brian said. “When was the last time you saw Kelly? If you say this morning … or last night … I’m going to have a caseworker out here every day for the next month, even if I have to pay them out of my own pocket.”

  Jack arched an eyebrow, surprised and impressed.

  “We saw her four days ago,” Emily said, resigned. “She stopped in to get some fresh clothes and do some laundry.”

  “How often does she stay here?”

  “A couple nights a week.”

  “Where does she stay the other nights?” Jack asked, rampant dislike for the Gideons rolling through his stomach.

  “She has a few friends,” Emily said. “She usually sleeps on their couches or … I don’t know … maybe she has a boyfriend.”

  “Are you saying you have no idea where she spends her nights?”

  “She’s here two or three nights a week,” Emily said. “She comes in after we’ve gone to bed most of the time. Then she eats breakfast with us and takes off again.”

  “As long as she keeps her grades up and is here for social worker visits, we kind of let her do her own thing,” Derek said. “She’s an easy kid. She doesn’t get in trouble, and she doesn’t talk back.”

  Jack made a face, disgusted. “Well, don’t worry about seeing her again,” he said, getting to his feet. “She’ll be relocated. I can guarantee that.”

  “Wait a second … .”

  “No,” Jack snapped. “She’s a teenage girl, not an adult. You guys paid so little attention to her you didn’t even know she was missing. We’re done here.”

  “No, we’re not,” Brian said. “I’ll be notifying the state about the situation in this house as soon as I get back to the office. If I were you, I’d be expecting a visit. Something tells me your status as foster parents is going to be studied rather closely.”

  “I want to see Kelly,” Emily said. “I’m sure, if you give me a chance to talk to her, I can work this all out. We are not bad people.”

  “I have no idea if that’s true or not,” Brian said. “I do know that you’re negligent people. Don’t leave the area. I have a feeling we’re going to be back for another chat once Kelly is ready to open up. Even if you don’t see us, though, you’re going to be seeing some people who look a lot like us.”

  “You can’t do this,” Derek said. “You’re messing with our livelihood.”

  “Sir, don’t ever tell me what I can and can’t do,” Brian said.

  “I THOUGHT you said to remain calm,” Jack said once they were back at the cruiser.

  “Is that guy still standing?”

  Jack nodded.

  “Then I remained calm,” Brian said, clearing his throat to ward off his disgust. “Can you believe those people didn’t even know she was missing?”

  “Sadly, I’ve seen situations like this before down in the city,” Jack said, referring to his former life as a Detroit police detective. “You would be horrified to see some of the foster home situations I’ve seen.”

  “I understand that,” Brian said. “I don’t condone it, though. That girl could’ve been killed and they never would’ve been the wiser as long as they had the checks to cash.”

  “Well, she’s out of there now,” Jack said. “Do you think they’re the ones who hurt her?”

  “I don’t know,” Brian said. “They seem more lazy than anything else. They don’t seem particularly smart either. I just … don’t know.”

  “We need Kelly to start talking,” Jack said.

  “We can’t force her,” Brian said. “I don’t know everything, but I do know that. Kelly needs to feel safe before she confides in anyone. Ivy is our best chance, no matter how much that bugs you.”

  “It doesn’t bug me,” Jack countered. “I know Ivy is a good person. It’s just … she drives me crazy.”

  “That’s hormones, son,” Brian said, winking. �
�The only way Ivy Morgan is going to stop driving you crazy is if you give in and embrace the hormones.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “It’s going to happen,” Brian said. “You’re not ready yet, but you’ll get there. I have faith.”

  “I really dislike you sometimes,” Jack grumbled, climbing into the cruiser.

  “You’ll live.”

  Seven

  Where am I?

  Ivy was dreaming again. Instead of the woods surrounding her house, though, she was on a dark street. She didn’t recognize her surroundings, the tall buildings jutting into the sky marring the skyline and serving as a gentle reminder that she was in a city – which she rarely went to if she could help it.

  She had nothing against cities, she reminded herself. They were just dirty, loud, and annoying. She disliked the very idea of them. She liked to run free, her long hair trailing behind her as she raced through the forest. Cities smothered, they didn’t enhance.

  So why was she dreaming about one now?

  “I’m not making excuses, Mom. I really do have to work on Sunday.”

  Ivy recognized the voice, turning her head expectantly as Jack strolled down the sidewalk on the other side of the street. He had a cell phone pressed to his ear, and he seemed oblivious to his surroundings. Ivy knew she had attitude where cities were concerned, but this didn’t look like a safe neighborhood. She opened her mouth to call after Jack, hoping his presence would cut back the shadows that appeared to be encroaching on her, but something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

  Someone was following Jack.

  Ivy couldn’t make out the dark silhouette’s features. It was clearly a man, broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist and sturdy thighs. He was tall. Not quite as tall as Jack, but tall all the same. He moved furtively, purposely keeping himself in the shadowed alcoves offered by the various fire escapes littering the brick façade of the nearby buildings.

  Without realizing what she was doing – or why – Ivy followed. Her bare feet padded along the cement silently, and even though she knew it was a dream, she couldn’t help but hope she wouldn’t step in anything disgusting during her trek.

  “Mom, I’m not being difficult,” Jack said, continuing his conversation. “I honestly have to work. I’m not just saying it because I don’t want to have Sunday dinner with you. That’s ridiculous.”

  Jack stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, and even though she was behind him, Ivy could read the frustration as it settled on his shoulders. “Mom, I promise, as soon as my workload lightens up, I’ll carve out a special day for you. It’s just … this is a big case.”

  He was silent for a few moments as he listened to the woman on the other end of the line.

  “I’m not trying to be a bad son, Mom,” Jack said. “I’m trying to be a good cop. No … no … you just talk to hear yourself talk sometimes, don’t you?”

  Ivy couldn’t stop herself from smiling. Despite the exasperated look on Jack’s face, the love for his mother was evident. He looked lighter in this dream, like the troubles of his past weren’t weighing down his future. That’s when Ivy realized where she was. This was a dream, but it was one that stemmed from a real incident.

  The dark figure trailing Jack increased his pace while Jack argued about the merits of familial love. Suddenly, Ivy knew exactly what memory Jack was stuck in, although she had no idea how she’d been drawn into it. That’s what was happening, though. She was a visitor in his dream.

  Almost as if she was in someone else’s body, Ivy watched in horror as the figure drew something out his pocket. It was a gun. Someone was about to shoot Jack. She’d seen the scars on his chest. She knew whoever it was hit his target. Ivy opened her mouth, desperate to change history even though she knew it wasn’t possible.

  “Jack!”

  JACK bolted to a sitting position in his bed, his heart hammering as a cold sweat clung to his bare chest. He’d had the dream so many times he’d lost count, and yet this one had been different.

  He’d been walking down the street talking to his mother. They were arguing about the fact that he’d missed three family dinners in a row. The dream was always the same. The conversation was always the same. Everything happened just like it did on that fateful night.

  Until tonight. Tonight was different. This time, just when he was about to find out who his true enemy was, someone called his name. In the split-second before consciousness claimed him, Jack caught a glimpse of the woman trying to save him – and he would’ve recognize that dark hair with the pink streaks anywhere.

  Ivy.

  Jack rubbed the back of his neck, pushing the remnants of the dream out of his head, and glanced out his bedroom window. Morning was here, although barely. He knew it was fruitless to try and return to slumber. Once he was up, he was up. He couldn’t go back under with the dream so fresh in his mind.

  Jack tossed the covers off of his body, stretching as he climbed to his feet. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror over his dresser, his eyes automatically dropping to the twin scars on his chest. They were located a few inches from his heart, and they served as constant reminders that trust and loyalty were earned, not given away freely.

  Ivy gave him a bottle of cream two weeks before, claiming it would help the scars fade. At the time, he’d told her he didn’t want the scars to fade – but that wasn’t the truth. He wanted them gone. If he could shake the mental ones, that would be even better. It was those scars keeping him from Ivy now. He wasn’t the same man who was shot in that dream, though, and the man looking back at him from the mirror wasn’t worthy of a woman like Ivy.

  Jack pressed his eyes shut briefly, picturing her beautiful face and pouty lips. There was just something about her. He couldn’t explain it. He couldn’t identify why he was drawn to her. He wasn’t so obtuse that he didn’t recognize the attraction every time it zinged him. He also wasn’t brave enough to push the fear out of his mind and give in so he could claim what he really wanted.

  No, Jack Harker knew he wanted Ivy Morgan. He didn’t need his subconscious to tell him that he was looking at her as a form of salvation. He could feel it every time they shared oxygen. That didn’t mean he was going to give in, though.

  She deserved a real man. She deserved someone who wouldn’t be forever scarred by the sins of the past. She deserved someone who could love her completely.

  Jack didn’t think he was any of those things.

  “GOOD morning, honey.”

  Ivy made a face when she saw Jack outside her front door. After she’d rudely walked in his dream the previous evening, she felt odd being in his presence. She’d invaded his personal space. There was no doubt about that. Instead of apologizing and owning up to her indiscretion, though, she opted to ignore it.

  “What are you doing here so early?”

  Jack held up a brown diner bag, shaking it enticingly. “I brought breakfast.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that’s what people eat in the morning,” Jack replied, unruffled by her grouchy behavior.

  “But why?”

  “Because I need to talk to Kelly, and I thought breakfast would make it easier,” Jack admitted.

  Ivy bit her lip, conflicted. She knew Jack had a job to do. She also knew Kelly wasn’t ready to be pushed. “I don’t know.”

  “If you’re worried about me seeing you with bedhead, don’t,” he said. “I’ve already seen you in the morning.”

  “I don’t have bedhead.”

  “If that’s your story … .”

  Ivy self-consciously ran a hand through her hair, internally sighing when she realized it was standing on end in some places. “You get off on this, don’t you?” She pushed open the door, resigned.

  Jack couldn’t help but smile when he saw her fuzzy pajama pants and tank top. She was adorable in the morning. She looked muddled, and her mind wasn’t firing on all cylinders without her morning caffeine fix, and he just wa
nted to … touch her. “I think you’re cute in the morning.”

  “That’s just what every woman wants to hear,” Ivy said, turning on her heel and stalking toward the kitchen. “Hey, you look … cute.”

  “It’s better than looking like a crazy person,” Jack said, walking into the living room and closing the door behind him. He scanned the couch, remnants of Kelly’s night scattered about in the form of a pillow and blanket. “Where is Kelly?”

  “She’s in the shower,” Ivy said. “I let her take the first one because the water doesn’t hold out for two and I don’t want her to suffer.”

  “That must’ve made mornings hard when you were a teenager,” Jack said, following her into the kitchen and resting the bag of food on the table. “Did you and Max battle it out every morning?”

  “No. Max was stronger than me, so he usually rubbed my face in his armpit and then held me down until I gave in.”

  “And your parents let him get away with that?”

  “My parents never got involved in our fights,” Ivy said. “Once we hit a certain age, they said we had to battle it out on our own.”

  “Did you ever win?”

  “Sure,” Ivy said. “Sometimes I tied his door shut with a piece of rope from the outside.”

  “That sounds fun,” Jack said, smirking. “Wait … this house only has two bedrooms. Where did Max sleep?”

  “There’s a bedroom in the basement,” Ivy replied, yawning as she measured coffee grounds. “Max lived down there.”

  “I didn’t know this place had a basement,” Jack said. “That’s good. It’s kind of small otherwise.”

  “It’s perfect for one person,” Ivy corrected. “When four of us were living here, it was rough, though.”

  “What do you have in the basement now?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “If you must know the truth, I’m kind of scared of the basement,” Ivy said, snapping the drawer into place and pressing the button to start the coffee machine. “I had nightmares about being locked down there as a kid, so I rarely went down there unless I was desperate for a good shower.”