Wicked Haunts
An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book Twelve
Lily Harper Hart
HarperHart Publications
Copyright © 2018 by Lily Harper Hart
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
1. One
2. Two
3. Three
4. Four
5. Five
6. Six
7. Seven
8. Eight
9. Nine
10. Ten
11. Eleven
12. Twelve
13. Thirteen
14. Fourteen
15. Fifteen
16. Sixteen
17. Seventeen
18. Eighteen
19. Nineteen
20. Twenty
Mail List
Acknowledgments
Books by Lily Harper Hart
One
Ivy Morgan flexed her feet in her new hiking boots and frowned at the way they pinched. The sun was high in the sky, poking through the swaying leaves, but her focus was on the boots rather than the view.
“I think I made a mistake with these boots.”
It was hard for her to admit. She rarely made mistakes, at least that she wanted to take credit for. She was starting to feel a familiar pain, though, and knew that blisters were likely to follow.
Her fiancé Jack Harker, who was taking a break on a fallen log, slid his eyes from the bottle of water he was drinking to the woman who had managed to steal his heart. A little more than a year ago, they didn’t know one another. Now they were living together, planning a wedding, and sharing a life he never knew he wanted.
Things were almost pure bliss.
That didn’t mean he didn’t recognize Ivy was about to turn whiny.
“I told you.” He swallowed the water and gave her boots a lingering look. “You didn’t want to listen, but I knew those boots were a bad idea. You should’ve gone for the boots I picked.”
Ivy scowled. Her relationship with Jack was complicated. They loved each other completely — that would never change — but they also enjoyed arguing. Some arguments were more grating than others ... like this one.
“The boots you picked were suede.”
“So?”
“I’m a vegetarian.”
Jack made a face. “Oh, geez. I didn’t ask you to eat the boots.”
“No, but I told you I don’t eat anything with a face. That means I don’t wear boots that used to have faces either. I needed vegan non-leather boots and people were raving about these online. Since I needed new boots, I thought I would give them a try. How was I to know that the people on the internet were crazy?”
“I think that should’ve been a given because it’s the internet.” Jack shoved his bottle of water in the small pack he carried and moved closer to Ivy, kneeling in front of her. He was torn about what he wanted to do. “Do you think they will get more comfortable if I take them off?”
“No, but I don’t see where it will hurt.”
Jack could think of one way it would hurt. “Are your feet going to swell?”
Ivy stilled. “Oh, I didn’t think about that. I don’t think so, though.” She didn’t sound certain, which made Jack nervous. “I think I’m going to end up with blisters on top of blisters.”
Even though she often frustrated him, Jack didn’t want Ivy to feel pain. He never wanted that. “Well ... let’s give it a shot.” He attacked the laces on her boots. “If we can’t get them back on, we’ll abandon them and I’ll carry you back.”
Amused despite herself, Ivy snorted. “It’s two miles back.”
“I think that shows how much I love you.”
“Yes, but it’s two miles.” Ivy made a relieved sound when Jack carefully tugged off the boot. “Oh, that feels so much better. You can’t carry me back, though. It’s too far. Besides, you’re not the one who bought the bad boots.”
“No,” Jack agreed, sitting on the ground in front of her so he could tip the boot at an angle and peer inside. “You bought the boots despite the fact that I told you to go with a different company, one with a proven track record. You’re you, though, and here we are.”
Ivy’s lips curved down as she ran a hand through her long hair. The pink streaks that were something of her trademark glinted in the sunlight, creating something of a halo effect around her face. Jack always thought she looked like an angel. Today, that feeling was only doubled.
“You know what? You should just leave me and I’ll find a way back on my own,” Ivy suggested, her irritation coming out to play. “No one says you have to sit here with me. I’ll figure out a way back to the house without your help.”
One of the things Jack loved most about her was her fiery temper. “You want me to leave you alone, shoeless, in the woods?”
“I have shoes.”
Jack waited.
“They’re simply not comfortable,” she hedged, rubbing the tender spot between her eyebrows where she carried her tension. “It’s not my fault.” She decided to change tactics. “The boots got great reviews. I should’ve been able to trust the reviews.”
“Yes, because no one ever lies on the internet,” Jack drawled, rubbing his hands inside the boots and feeling along the back spine as he tried to find a reason for Ivy’s discomfort. “I’m not sure why these things are rubbing you the wrong way, but I can’t feel anything that sticks out.”
He moved his hand to Ivy’s foot and carefully peeled back the sock, frowning when he saw the angry mark along her heel. “Oh, geez. This is going to be one heck of a blister.”
“Why do you think I prefer sandals?” she grumbled, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. “And here I thought hiking was a good way for us to get exercise and bond at the same time.”
Despite the serious situation, Jack grinned. “We’re already bonded, honey. If we get any more bonded, people in town are going to talk.”
“They already talk. They think you’re crazy for hooking up with me.”
“I’m fine being nuts ... in this one particular instance.” His grin lightened his handsome features. “Don’t worry about the boots. I’ll probably only hold them over your head for a month or two. After that, I’ll forget all about them.”
Ivy scowled. “Well, great.”
He grinned as he rubbed the bottom of her foot. “I think we should rest a few minutes and then pack up and head home. I don’t foresee you being able to make it far before I’m forced to carry you.”
Ivy was a big proponent of women taking care of themselves. That didn’t mean she was opposed to a little help from time to time. In this particular instance, however, she wasn’t sure Jack’s suggestion was possible. “You can’t carry me for two miles.”
“I’m strong.” He mock thumped his chest, eliciting a smile. “I can be your knight in shining armor.”
“You’ve been that since the moment I met you.”
His expression softened. “And I will continue carrying the mantle. Don’t worry about this. It’s not the end of the world. If I have to give you a piggyback ride, I’ll manage. Once we get back to the house, though, I expect to be rewarded for my efforts with a back massage.”
Ivy giggled, genuinely amused. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”
“Good.” Jack briefly rested his forehead against hers, his hands remaining busy on her fo
ot. He could’ve stayed there the entire day, content to just be near her, but he knew she would start complaining again if he didn’t steer the conversation in another direction. “So, when do you want to get married?”
Whatever she was expecting, that wasn’t it. Ivy raised her eyebrows and snickered as Jack got comfortable on the ground and focused on her feet. “I don’t know. Why don’t we get married right now?”
“You kid, but I would be fine with that. I’m starting to think you don’t want to marry me.”
That was a bit of an exaggeration. Jack knew Ivy loved him — it was written on her face whenever they locked gazes — but she’d been dragging her feet when it came to wedding plans. He was determined to find out why.
“You can’t be serious.” Ivy made a face. “I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t want to marry you.”
“You said yes at Christmas,” he reminded her. “It’s almost summer. In fact, summer is only days away. That means it’s been six months and you still haven’t picked a date. I’m trying not to get a complex, honey, but ... I can’t help it.”
Instead of taking pity on him, Ivy rolled her eyes. “Why am I the one who has to pick the date? Why aren’t you helping?”
“Because I’m the one who proposed. I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain. Now it’s up to you.”
“Says who?”
“Every chick movie I’ve ever watched.”
Ivy didn’t want to encourage him, but she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “Very cute.”
“I try.”
“I’m not a normal chick, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh, trust me, that’s the first thing I noticed.” Jack’s fingers were gentle as he slipped a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not trying to pressure you. It’s just ... I want to be married to you. I want to start our life.”
“I get that.” Ivy was sincere. “It’s just ... my mother is making things difficult.”
“How?”
“She’s taking over. She keeps talking about inviting relatives who live downstate, people I haven’t seen in years. That’s not what I want.”
“What do you want?”
“Honestly? I would be fine if we went to City Hall tomorrow and got married. I don’t need a wedding.”
“Then let’s go to City Hall.”
Ivy pursed her pink lips. “Well ... .”
Jack waited.
“Fine. I wouldn’t be okay with that,” she conceded, causing his lips to twitch. “I want a ceremony. It should be small, though. I want to pick out a dress that I like, something that fits my personality rather than my mother’s, and I want to recite my vows in front of a few people. That’s simply not what I’m getting thanks to my mother. She wants a hundred people.”
Jack sighed, unsure how to tackle the situation. Finally, he merely shrugged because he didn’t know what else to do. “This is a mother and daughter thing, isn’t it?”
“It’s a ‘she’s driving me crazy’ thing.”
“Yes, but she’s driving you crazy because she’s your mother.”
Ivy wanted to argue with the sentiment, but she couldn’t. “I guess.” She was quiet for a moment before she grabbed Jack’s shoulders and forced him to stare into her eyes. “I want to marry you. Please don’t doubt that.”
“I don’t doubt it.” That was mostly true. Jack understood she was ready to live her life with him, was looking forward to it. In truth, they already lived together. Getting married would change very little about their lives. A ring was a powerful symbol, though, and he wanted it. “I’m going to give you one month to get things together with your mother and then I’m going to set a date.”
Ivy nodded, solemn. “I’ll handle it.”
“Good.” He leaned up and gave her a soft kiss. “I think we can put that subject away for the day, unless you want to talk wedding specifics.”
“I want an outdoor wedding.”
“Then you need to get it together. It’s early summer but decent weather will slip out of our fingers before you realize it. I don’t care how much I love you, I’m not getting married outside in the middle of a blizzard.”
“Fair enough.” Ivy’s touch was whisper soft as she fluttered her fingers over his cheek. “I love you, Jack. Don’t doubt that.”
He cupped her palm to his face. “I don’t. I simply want to be able to refer to you as ‘my wife’ rather than ‘the woman I’m living in sin with.’”
Ivy’s smile slipped. “You’re kind of a pig.”
“You love it and you know it.” He smacked a loud kiss against her lips. “I think we’re only delaying the inevitable here. I’m going to put your shoe back on and then I think we should head out. The longer we wait, the stiffer that skin on your heel is going to get. You’re going to be in serious pain by the time we get home.”
Ivy was already in serious pain, but since it was her fault, she didn’t want to increase his worry. “I’ll be fine. It’s only two miles, right?”
“We’ll see if you feel the same way in twenty minutes.” He slipped her sock back on and grabbed the boot. “This is probably going to hurt.”
Ivy was prepared for that. “Go for it.”
Jack sucked in a breath — he really was a marshmallow when it came to causing her pain — and tugged the boot in place. Ivy hid her grimace well, but Jack could read the tension in her eyes as the boot slid home.
“Oh, I’m sorry, honey.” He kissed her forehead. “We’ll toss these boots the second we get home.”
Ivy balked. “They were expensive.”
“And you can’t wear them.”
“You don’t know that. I might be able to wear them once I build callouses on my feet. I’m not ready to admit defeat yet.”
Jack groaned. “Of course you’re not ready to admit defeat. You fight to the death no matter what.”
“I really do,” Ivy agreed, flexing her foot. “Of course, in this particular case, I might hate the boots so much by the time we get back that I’ll make a ritual sacrifice out of them.”
“I can see that happening.” Jack got to his feet and extended a hand. “Come on, honey. If we leave now, we can be home in thirty minutes or so — forty if I have to carry you — and then we can soak your feet in some Epsom salts.”
That sounded heavenly to Ivy. “Okay. I don’t want you to carry me unless I ask, though. It’s important for my self-esteem that you not take over.”
Jack snorted. “You just made that up. You’re afraid that I’ll hurt my back carrying you and this is your way of being a martyr for the cause.”
“That is completely untrue.”
“I know you.” He leaned forward and playfully tapped the end of her nose. “We’re going to play it by ear. We both know I’m not going to be able to watch you suffer, so there will be a point where I carry you. There’s no getting around it.”
Ivy blew out a sigh, resigned. “Fine, but I don’t want to hear you boasting about it to Max later. It’s just between you and me. I have a reputation to uphold.”
Jack chuckled. Max was Ivy’s beloved older brother and he would mercilessly tease her if he saw an opening. The boots were definitely an opening. “We’ll discuss that when we get back to the house. In fact ... .” He broke off, tilting his head to the side as he caught a gleam of color through the trees. “What’s that?”
Ivy shifted to follow his gaze, narrowing her eyes as she stared hard into the dense overgrowth. “What? Did you see something? There shouldn’t be any morel hunters out here. The season is over.”
“I didn’t see movement.” Jack wrapped an arm around Ivy’s middle and lifted her off the ground as he stepped closer to the source of the color.
“What are you doing?” Ivy asked, confused. “I’m not ready to be carried yet.”
“There’s no sense pushing yourself before we head back. Think of it as me being manly ... or whatever word doesn’t make you want to hurt me.”
“We’re going to talk about thi
s later,” she muttered, mortified at the fact that she was relieved Jack was taking the pressure off her feet.
“I’m looking forward to it. There!” Jack kept his right arm wrapped around her narrow waist and pointed with his left hand. “What is that?”
Ivy squinted so she could see what he was referring to, and when she finally was able to make out the sloped ridge of a dilapidated cottage, things shifted into place. “Oh, that’s the old witch cabin.”
Jack’s eyebrows hopped. “Witch cabin?”
“That’s what Max and I always called it,” she explained. “I have no idea who lived there, if anyone ever really did. It’s been empty since I was a kid. Max and I used to see it when we were out here playing as kids, but we never got close. We were both afraid of it. Max even made up stories about a witch who ate children living here to mess with me.”
“That sounds just like Max,” Jack grumbled, continuing to move closer to the structure. “I bet he terrorized you when you were little.”
“He did. I terrorized him right back, though.”
“That was probably cute. The things he did to you weren’t cute.”
“I think you might be biased.”
“I’m fine with that.” Jack approached what looked to be a weathered fence — it was almost completely down except for a few flimsy posts — and he lowered Ivy to the ground as he stepped into the high grass. “I want to look around really quick. You stay here.”
Ivy wrinkled her nose. “Why do you want to look around? Nobody lives here. Even the local kids don’t come out here very often these days.”
Jack was intrigued despite himself. “Why would the local kids come out here?”
“It used to be something of a party spot when I was a teenager. I told you that we didn’t have a lot of places to go that our parents couldn’t find us. This cottage was one of those places, although it was rare that we came out here because there was no convenient way to find it in the dark.”
Wicked Haunts (An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book 12) Page 1