“I can see that.” Jack left Ivy near the fence and shuffled forward. He wasn’t a fan of the tall weeds and grass, convinced some sort of animal would jump out and bite him if he stepped in the wrong spot. “I just want to look around. I bet that place is a hazard inside. It should probably be torn down.”
Since Jack was a police officer, of course his mind went to public safety. Ivy couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “Yes, let’s worry about a cottage everyone has forgotten exists,” she drawled. “That sounds like a great idea. Not a waste of time at all.”
“You sit over there and think about a wedding date,” Jack ordered. “Let me handle looking around the cottage.”
“Knock yourself out,” Ivy supplied, rolling her neck and shifting her gaze to the left when she noticed something that looked out of place in the heavy foliage. “What’s this?” She limped forward and bent over to snag the item, her eyes going wide when she lifted it. “Jack?”
“I won’t be gone long, Ivy.” Irritation, faint as a whisper, accompanied Jack’s words. “Just give me a second. I ... what is that?” He finally focused on the item Ivy found.
“It’s a purse,” Ivy said after a beat. “It looks new.”
“Wouldn’t that mean someone was out here recently?”
Ivy nodded. “Yeah, but who would abandon a purse out here? This is a nice purse.”
“I don’t know.” Jack shrugged as he moved to return to her. “Perhaps we should find out, huh?”
Two
Ivy waited for Jack to join her.
“Should I open it?”
Jack nodded. “Yeah. We should at least see who it belongs to.”
Her foot pain forgotten, Ivy unzipped the purse and dug inside. It was full of the usual items: lipstick, a travel-sized bottle of perfume, and a wallet. She went straight for the wallet and opened it, furrowing her brow when she found the driver’s license tucked inside.
“Phoebe Green,” Jack read over her shoulder. “Do you know who that is?”
She nodded, thoughtful. “She graduated from the high school several years ago.”
“Did she stay in the area after graduation?”
Ivy shrugged. “I’m honestly not sure. I mean ... I’ve seen her since then. Usually in town, at the diner or the ice cream shop. I didn’t pay much attention because she was so much younger than me. She had her own circle of friends.”
Jack shifted his eyes back to the cottage. “You don’t think she’s still out here, do you?”
“How should I know?” Her voice took on an edge of irritation.
“It was simply a question.” What Jack didn’t say was that Ivy’s magic — a word she was loath to use — had been growing over the past twelve months. She had a certain sense about things, an ability that she’d managed to share with Jack on more than one occasion. “I thought maybe you might have one of your feelings.”
Ivy’s frown only grew more pronounced. “I’m not some powerful seer who can conjure answers out of thin air.”
“I didn’t say you were. Although ... what’s a seer?”
“Basically a witch in fiction.”
Witch. That was another word Ivy didn’t want to use. Her aunt, Felicity Goodings, embraced the term to the point where she owned a magic shop one town over. Ivy fought the distinction, though, to the point where Jack wasn’t sure how he should refer to her growing abilities.
“You said you thought this was a witch house,” Jack pointed out after a beat. “Are you saying the person who lived here before was a witch?”
“I don’t know who lived here, or if anyone ever did.”
“Someone had to live here.” Jack flicked his eyes back to the house. “I need to check it out. If Phoebe was out here, maybe she never left. That could explain why her purse was discarded the way it was.”
“Or maybe I was wrong about kids partying out here,” Ivy countered. “Maybe they still do and I was simply unaware. She could’ve gotten drunk and forgotten her purse.”
They both knew that was a long shot.
“Why wouldn’t she come back to look for it once she sobered up?” Jack asked.
“She could’ve been afraid. I know this place gives me the creeps.”
“Yes, well ... I still need to take a look.” Jack was firm. “You stay here with the purse, keep your ear to the ground, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He moved to leave her standing in the middle of what at one time might have been a yard, but Ivy was quick and her hand shot out to grab his wrist before he could put distance between them.
“I’m going with you,” Ivy announced, her tone no-nonsense. “You’re not going in there without me.”
Jack wasn’t a fan of that idea. “I think you would be safer out here.”
“Well, I think we should stick together. Isn’t that our mantra? We stick together through thick and thin, right?”
“I have no interest in being unstuck. It’s just ... your feet are giving you issues.”
Ivy glanced down at the boots she was rapidly starting to despise. “They’re fine. I was exaggerating about how painful they were because I wanted you to baby me.”
They both knew it wasn’t true. For her to say it, told Jack everything he needed to know. She wouldn’t be left behind no matter what. In truth, finding the purse in the middle of nowhere had spooked him. Ivy clearly didn’t like the house thanks to Max’s ridiculous stories when they were kids, so she didn’t want to be separated. It was safer to keep her with him, even if she was in pain.
“Okay,” he said, glancing around to make sure someone hadn’t suddenly joined the party without his knowledge. “We’ll go in together. We’ll make a quick sweep. If it looks unsafe, we’ll leave and I’ll call Brian to get a search team out here. How does that sound?”
Ivy slipped the purse strap over her head to secure the bag. “Let’s just get it over with.”
“I hear that.”
They linked fingers as Jack led her through the yard. He watched the ground, on guard against anything that might be hidden in the grass. Nothing of interest popped up, other than the occasional beer can, but the sense of dread he was feeling in his heart only increased with each step.
“What do you know about this house?” He was desperate to keep the conversation going because otherwise the atmosphere felt too oppressive.
“Not much,” Ivy replied, wisely staying behind him. His protective instincts were at full alert and he would melt down if she detached from his side to search the property on her own. “I can’t remember much of anything. It was always out here, abandoned. I think whoever lived out here was on her own for a long time.”
Jack arched an eyebrow. “Her?”
Ivy shrugged. “Max told me a witch lived out here. That means it was a she.”
“Do you think Max knows more about this property?”
Ivy tilted her head to the side, considering. “No,” she said finally. “Max and I used to go out of our way to terrify one another when we were kids. I told you about the time I locked him in his room and he turned into a crying mess, right? We spent years doing that to each other.
“I mean ... I was always afraid of this place, which is only one of the reasons I never partied with the kids I went to high school with, but I didn’t know any hard facts,” she continued. “I knew what Max told me. I also knew he was lying. That didn’t stop me from being afraid.”
“There are times I want to kick your brother,” Jack muttered, annoyed. “What good was accomplished by terrifying you?”
Ivy’s heart warmed despite the serious situation. Jack was always her biggest cheerleader and fiercest protector. “It’s a brother and sister thing,” she reminded him. “You have a sister. You know how those things go.”
“Yes, I know how they go,” he muttered, pausing in front of a sagging door to look inside. “This doesn’t look safe, honey. I think you should stay outside.”
“Either we both go in or we both stay out.” Ivy was firm. “Which way do you
want it?”
Jack blew out a frustrated breath. “Fine. If the roof collapses, though, I’m going to be really mad.”
“Duly noted.”
The cottage barely resembled a place that someone could call home. In fact, it reminded Jack of a fort more than anything else.
“No electricity,” he murmured, his eyes moving over the wall by the front door. “If anyone lived here, he or she was living rough.”
“I’m guessing this was a hunting shack or something,” Ivy said. “That’s what it looks like, right? No wallpaper. No paint. No shelves. No furniture.”
Jack furrowed his brow as he glanced around. “I think this used to be furniture.” He nudged a misshapen lump of wood with his toe. “That was probably a chair at some point.”
“Not a nice chair.”
“No, but it could be a stool that a hunter sat on. I think you might be right about this being a hunting cabin. It was clearly abandoned decades ago, though.” Jack moved into the next room, his eyes immediately going to the gaping hole in the roof. “This place definitely isn’t safe.”
“Then we should make our rounds quickly. The sooner we clear the area, the sooner we can return to the cottage and head to town.”
“Why would we head to town?”
Ivy gave him a “well, duh” look. “Because you’re not going to rest until we track down Phoebe and return her purse. You’ll want to see with your own eyes that she’s okay. I know you.”
“You do know me.” He gave her rear end a playful swat. “Okay, let’s sweep this place fast and get out of here. I don’t like how dank it is. Every bad horror movie I’ve ever seen started in a place like this.”
Ivy thought that was probably an exaggeration, but she didn’t offer up an argument. She’d never been a fan of the shack. Max sensed her fear and used it against her, but it wasn’t all on her gregarious brother. There was something in the cottage that set Ivy’s teeth on edge, caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end, and right now her inner senses were urging her to leave.
She saw no reason not to acquiesce. “Let’s get it over with,” she agreed. “The sooner we get out of here, the better.”
THE WALK BACK TO THE cottage Ivy and Jack shared was miserable. They continued their search for a grand total of ten minutes before heading home. Ivy was convinced Phoebe got drunk at a party (they found an entire small clearing full of beer cans at the back side of the shack, after all) and misplaced her purse. The young woman probably thought it was gone forever. Once Jack saw her with his own eyes, he would admonish her for partying in the woods and then they would be on their way.
Halfway back to the cottage, Ivy’s strides got so short Jack could no longer take it. He leaned down in front of her, urged her to climb on his back, and patiently waited until she admitted the pain was almost unbearable.
“I really am sorry,” she lamented as they turned the final corner and the cottage popped into view. “I had no idea this would happen.”
Jack fancied himself an outdoorsman. He had a strong frame and worked out on a regular basis. Ivy was a thin woman, not overly heavy, and yet Jack felt as if he’d run a marathon by the time they made it back to the cottage.
“It’s fine.” He did his best to pretend he wasn’t winded and wouldn’t be sore from the physical exertion the next morning. “Don’t worry about it. I just couldn’t take another minute of you being in pain.”
“Oh, I’m going to be in pain for days,” Ivy intoned, groaning when Jack lowered her to the ground. “I’m simply going to feel the burn in different shoes. Seriously, I’m going to throw these boots into the fire. I can’t believe anyone would sell them as anything other than torture devices.”
Jack chuckled as he unlocked the front door. “Come on. I’ll help you get them off. Then we need to head into town.”
Ivy was expecting that. “I could look up her mother’s phone number and have her send Phoebe out here. That might save wear on my aching feet.”
Jack took pity on her. “Make the call. If you can arrange for Phoebe to pick up her purse, I promise to stop obsessing.”
“Awesome.” Ivy hobbled to the couch and grunted as she fell onto it. Her cell phone sat on the coffee table, so she used it to look up Janice Green’s number. She didn’t know the woman well, but she wasn’t uncomfortable asking about Phoebe. After all, they found the young woman’s purse in the middle of the woods, which was suspicious. It would be negligent not to call.
The phone rang four times before switching to voicemail, at which point a message indicating the voice mailbox was full played over the call. Ivy disconnected and flicked her eyes to Jack, who was carefully removing her shoes.
“No answer.”
“Why didn’t you leave a message?”
“Her voicemail was full.”
“Oh, well, you can try calling again later,” he said, cringing when Ivy let out a low whimper. “I’m sorry. I have to get these shoes off you. I don’t have a choice.”
“I know. I don’t blame you.”
“Yeah, well ... oh, geez.” Jack was horrified when he saw how red the backs of both Ivy’s feet were. In addition, her toes had started to turn red and puff up a bit. “Why didn’t you tell me how much you were hurting?”
“It wasn’t your fault. I’m the one who picked out the boots.”
“I don’t care about that. You’re going to be hobbling for days, even after soaking your feet in Epsom salt. You’re going to have to wear flip-flops every day until your feet are healed.”
“Or I can go barefoot.”
Jack smirked. She was barefoot when they met, something that seared itself into his memory. She found a body in the ditch in front of her house and investigated barefoot. That was simply who she was.
“I’m fine with that, too,” he said, scratching his cheek. “I’ll get a big bowl so you can soak your feet.” He started to stand, but Ivy shook her head to stop him.
“No. That will have to wait. We need to head into town.”
“Why?” Jack was confused. “What’s in town? If you don’t want to cook, which I’m all for, we can order pizza and have it delivered.”
“Janice’s voicemail was full.”
“You already said that.”
“It’s enough weirdness that I’m worried,” she admitted, chewing on her bottom lip. “I think we should run over to her house and check. If something happened to Phoebe — or even to both of them — we should figure it out now. We’ll be angry at ourselves if we ignore it and something bad comes about because of it.”
Jack wanted to argue, but he knew she was right. “Okay. We’ll go. We’ll grab dinner at the diner after, and then we’ll come back and soak your feet for the rest of the night.”
“That sounds like a plan.” Ivy grunted as she struggled to stand. “I feel much better now that the boots are off.”
Jack didn’t believe her, but there was no sense in arguing. “Great. I’ll grab your favorite flip-flops and we’ll head out. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”
JANICE’S HOUSE LOOKED dark when they parked in front of it. Normally that wouldn’t have bothered Jack, but there was a vehicle in the driveway, suggesting someone was home.
“Do you know if that’s Janice’s or Phoebe’s car?” he asked, pointing at the Lexus.
Ivy shook her head as she climbed out of his truck, doing her best to hide her twisted expression as she landed on the driveway. “I have no idea. You know I don’t pay attention to vehicles.”
“Oh, and here I thought you were going to be a mechanic on the side,” he teased, giving her a long once-over when they hit the sidewalk that led to the front door. “You don’t have to pretend you’re not hurting. I know you are. Trying to protect me won’t do anyone any good.”
“What makes you think I’m trying to protect you?”
“I’ve met you.”
“Yes, well, I’m honestly not in that much pain.”
Jack folded his arms over
his chest and pressed the tip of his tongue against the back of his teeth, waiting.
“I’m not,” Ivy persisted.
He didn’t say a word, instead merely staring.
“Fine.” Ivy’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “I feel as if my feet are going to fall off. I want to curl into a ball and cry like a little girl. Is that what you want to hear?”
“No. I hate hearing it. I prefer the truth, though.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Jack slipped in front of her as they approached the front door, knocking quickly and loudly in case Janice was in the back of the house. He waited for a minute. When no one answered, he knocked again.
“Maybe she’s not here,” Ivy suggested. “Maybe she’s out with Phoebe looking for her purse.”
“Maybe.” Jack wasn’t convinced and moved to the big bay window to his left. He used his hands to shadow his eyes and pressed his face close to the glass, taking a moment to adjust to the light and scanning the living room through the small gap between the curtains.
His heart skipped a beat when he noticed a large lump in the middle of the floor, forcing him to suck in a breath before focusing closer on the shape.
“What is it?” Ivy asked, picking up on the change in his demeanor almost immediately. “Is something wrong?”
“Yeah.” Jack’s hand instinctively moved to Ivy’s back. “It’s Janice Green. At least I think it’s her. I can’t ever remember seeing her.”
“What’s she doing?”
“She’s dead.”
Ivy briefly pressed her eyes shut, horrified. “Are you sure?”
“She’s not moving.”
“But ... .”
“She’s not moving and her eyes are wide open,” Jack said. “She’s dead, honey. I need to call Brian and arrange for a crime scene unit to head this way.”
Ivy nodded, sadness rolling through her. “She was a nice woman, for what it’s worth. I didn’t know her well, but she never gave me any grief for being different.”
Wicked Haunts (An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book 12) Page 2