“Greg Decker,” Brian replied. “He’s the stepson.”
“That means he’s the dealer,” Jack said grimly.
Brian nodded as Jason puzzled it out.
“Hey, are you saying that guy they put in charge of me for my community service was dealing, too? That is totally unfair.”
Neither Jack nor Brian bothered to admonish him for saying something so stupid. Their minds were already elsewhere. To be precise, they were on a pink-haired witch who had absolutely no idea how much trouble she was about to find herself in.
IVY STAYED OUT IN THE OPEN as she worked. It was one of the things she promised Jack. She didn’t want him worrying about her when he had other things to deal with. Of course, he was Jack, so he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from worrying.
For his part, Greg avoided contact with her. He spent all his time sitting under a tree, a bottle of water resting at his side, and glaring. Oddly enough, his disgust was directed at everyone in the crew, not just her. She was happy for that.
“It’s time for your break,” he called out an hour after they started working. They had mandated breaks in the community service rules, and he was adamant about sticking to them ... even when his charges would’ve preferred working through the breaks if that meant they could knock off early.
“Great,” Betsy announced brightly. “There’s little more I love than a break when there’s nowhere to sit and nothing to do.”
Greg ignored her and finally leveled his gaze on Ivy. There was hatred hidden in that gaze, to the point where an involuntary shudder ran up Ivy’s spine. “I need someone to volunteer to forego their break, run into the woods, and reclaim the box I was forced to leave there yesterday ... when our afternoon was unceremoniously interrupted.”
Ivy had no doubt who he wanted to volunteer, and she instantly hated the idea. “Um ... .”
“I can get the box,” Alison offered. She wasn’t even watching the interaction. She was too busy fanning herself. The sun was starting to beat down on them, and even though summers in northern Lower Michigan were often mild, there were days when the humidity became an issue. Today was one of those days.
“I didn’t ask you to get the box,” Greg shot back.
“You didn’t ask for anybody specific to get it,” Alison challenged. “You asked for volunteers. I volunteered.”
“Ivy is going to get the box,” Greg countered, his tone clipped. “She wants to do it. Isn’t that right?”
Ivy was caught and she knew it. “Sure. I would love to get the box.” She swallowed hard, her eyes going to the foliage on the far side of the work area. There was nothing there to focus on and yet she looked all the same. “I’ll do it right now.”
“That would be great.”
Ivy dragged her feet walking toward the woods, making sure to glance over her shoulder every few seconds. She’d already made up her mind: if anyone followed her, she would start running. She would rather survive and have more community service tacked onto her sentence — even if it meant postponing her honeymoon — than risk dying in the middle of nowhere. To her relief, no one followed.
Alison was right about temperatures being cooler once she stepped underneath the foliage-laden boughs. She took a moment to collect herself, breathe in deeply, and glance back at the location where she’d left Greg. He remained on the ground, in the exact same spot. That was enough to propel her to start searching for the box.
He would have to be an idiot to follow her into the trees and attack her with so many witnesses only a few feet away, she told herself. He was just lording his power over her. He didn’t want to kill her. Besides, he had no motive. She still couldn’t puzzle out that part of Marvin’s story. Why would Greg want to kill Sasha?
As if she sensed Ivy was thinking about her, the shadow that had once been Sasha Carmichael oozed out of the trees. She floated directly in front of Ivy, a good ten feet away, and smirked when Ivy ceased walking forward.
“What took you so long?” she asked dryly.
Ivy’s mouth went dry. It was one thing to talk to the shadow in her dreams — she had control of that environment, could wake up at any time — but quite another to deal with her in real life. She knew from past experience that just because somebody was dead, that didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous.
“Hello.” It was a stupid greeting, but Ivy didn’t know what else to say.
Sasha arched an eyebrow. “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”
“That’s because I’m not.” Ivy licked her lips and rolled her neck before taking a determined two steps forward. That was close enough to be able to gauge Sasha’s facial expressions without putting herself in immediate danger. “You came to me in a dream last night.”
“Is that so?” Sasha looked intrigued. “I don’t remember that.”
“That’s because I’m pretty sure I made you up ... mostly.”
“And yet here I am, although not in the flesh.”
“Not in the flesh,” Ivy agreed. “In the soul, though.”
“Yes, well ... .” Sasha pursed her lips, an expression Ivy was certain she’d carried over from life when upset … or annoyed. “You’re in trouble. You realize that, right?”
Ivy sensed that and yet she wasn’t yet sure how it was all going to play out. “Why would you want to warn me?” She was honestly curious. “You have a dark soul. You don’t want to help anyone but yourself. Even bad people who do a few good deeds to offset the potential bad don’t have a soul that looks like yours.”
“I like how you’re an expert on my soul.” Sasha’s comment was pointed ... and then she heaved out a sigh. “I’m not trying to help you. I’m trying to hurt them.”
That made sense, Ivy realized. The woman didn’t care what happened to her. She wanted revenge on those who had wronged her. “Wait ... them?” Ivy wrinkled her nose at the exact same moment a twig broke behind her. On instinct, she jumped to the left to avoid the branch that was being swung at her head.
The move worked. She landed on the hard ground next to a tree and rolled, her eyes going wide when she saw who was wielding the branch. “Betsy?” She was breathless as she tried to wrap her head around the new development.
“Oh, why did you have to duck?” Betsy complained, raising the branch for a second attack. “I didn’t want to have to look you in the eye before doing this. Believe it or not, I like you.”
“You like me?” Ivy was incredulous. “All evidence seems to point to the contrary.”
Betsy bobbed her head. “I truly do like you. That doesn’t mean I’m okay with you sticking your nose in this. I mean ... why? Couldn’t you just mind your own business?”
Ivy’s mind was jumbled. She couldn’t figure out what was happening. When she flicked her eyes to Sasha, she found the ghost practically vibrating with rage as she glared at Betsy.
“Kill her,” Sasha ordered, clenching and unclenching her hands into fists at her sides. Obviously she hadn’t realized that, if she directed her energy hard enough, she would be able to attack the woman herself. She hadn’t been a ghost long enough to figure it out.
For that, Ivy was grateful. There was still a chance for everyone to get out of this with their lives, if not their freedom. Well, except for Sasha.
“I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” Ivy blurted out as she regained her footing, attempting to buy herself time. “I mean ... I really don’t understand why you’re doing any of this.”
“Because I have a business to protect.” Betsy’s answer was simple, delivered with zero emotion. She looked more annoyed than angry. “I guess you could say that I didn’t plan for my retirement very well. Or, at all. Then I stumbled on the pot business, which led to the meth business. I should have my retirement secure in about a year. Then I’ll be out of this business, if it’s any consolation.”
Ivy made a face. “Why would that be any consolation?”
Betsy shrugged. “Because I’m going to be fine.”
“Yes, bu
t you’re going to try and kill me.”
“I don’t have a choice in the matter.” Betsy almost looked contrite. “You wouldn’t mind your own business. This is on you.”
“I didn’t know you were a killer,” Ivy shot back. “I knew you were growing pot but that’s it.”
“You pointed your boyfriend at my grandson.”
And that there was a kicker. Ivy had no idea what Betsy was babbling about. “Who is your grandson?”
Sasha made an impatient sound that was halfway between a growl and a snort. “Greg, you moron. She’s talking about Greg.”
Ivy glanced back at the ghost, dumbfounded. “But ... how?”
Now it was Betsy’s turn to be confused. “How what?”
“We were all in it together,” Sasha explained. “Greg’s mother is married to Brad Dunham. He owns the resort. Greg had the bright idea to take over that entire operation, sell to the tourists. We were splitting the money.
“Then we found out that Jason was moonlighting up there,” she continued. “They wanted me to get close to him, dissuade him. I thought I had until that night.”
And that’s when the final pieces fell into place for Ivy. “They thought Jason wasn’t an issue but came to a realization when it became apparent you hadn’t held up your end of the bargain.”
“This old hag went crazy.” Sasha jabbed a finger at the woman. “She kicked me out of the car and then tried to run me over. I ran and tried to get away but ... .” She trailed off, fury returning with a vengeance so bright it caused the surface air surrounding her to ripple.
“You couldn’t get away,” Ivy surmised, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Betsy hit you and that was it.”
Sasha nodded. “I ran into the woods, thinking I could get help thereafter. I fell asleep, though.”
“And died,” Ivy said, her heart constricting. “Oh, geez.”
Betsy worked her jaw. “Who are you talking to?” she asked finally. “I mean ... it’s not going to stop me from killing you, whatever it is. If you’re faking being crazy or something, that’s not going to work on me.”
“I’m not crazy,” Ivy said. “I’m just ... putting things together.” She didn’t owe Betsy an explanation, and there was no way she could make the older woman understand what was happening. Honestly, it didn’t matter. “You really screwed up your life, Betsy. Now, instead of the retirement you thought you were going to get, you’ll be spending your golden years in prison.”
Betsy snorted disdainfully. “And how do you figure that?” She waved the branch. “I’m the one with a weapon.”
“And yet Ivy was the one with a plan,” a male voice announced from behind Betsy, causing the woman to jolt.
As Betsy turned, ready to hurt whoever would dare interrupt her big moment, Max deftly caught her wrist so she couldn’t hit him with the piece of wood.
“Who are you?” Betsy asked blankly.
“The cavalry,” Max replied, offering Ivy a wink as he pressed the pulse point on Betsy’s wrist and caused her to drop the branch. She viciously cursed and tried to kick him in the shin, but Max’s reflexes were good and he easily avoided the contact. “You make the nicest friends, Sis.”
Ivy nodded, sadness overwhelming her. “Yeah. I guess I do.”
19
Nineteen
Jack and Brian had Greg in custody when Max, Ivy, and Betsy emerged from the trees. The crew chief was face down on the ground, his hands cuffed behind him, and he was screaming bloody murder.
“I’m going to have both your badges over this!”
Jack ignored the man and made a beeline for Ivy, sweeping her into his arms as he regarded Max and a struggling Betsy over her shoulder. “What’s this?”
“They were in it together,” Max supplied, making a face when Betsy attempted to kick him for the fifth time. “Betsy is his grandmother.”
“It must be on his mother’s side,” Brian noted as he stepped forward, pensive. “She’s not Dunham’s mother.”
“I’m going to sue you if you don’t let me up right now,” Greg threatened. “I’m going to own both your houses if you don’t correct this right now.”
“Shut up,” Brian intoned darkly. “You’ve been read your rights. You might want to keep in mind that anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law ... and we have plenty of witnesses.”
Ivy smiled at Jack as she pulled back, sending him a reassuring look. “I told you I would be fine. Max hiding in the bushes and spying was a stroke of genius, right?”
Jack didn’t want to encourage her wild ideas, but she looked shaken enough that he had to give her what she needed. “You’re a genius,” he agreed, blowing out a sigh as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’re the smartest woman I know.”
“No, I’m the smartest woman,” Betsy argued, wriggling hard against Max’s grip. “I’m going to sue you, too. I’ll live in your house for my retirement.”
Even though he wanted nothing more than to hold his fiancée, Jack recognized he had a job to do and reluctantly released her. It was with great disgust that he closed in on Betsy. “Was she involved in all of it?”
Ivy nodded. “She and Greg were handling the business end of things at the resort. Sasha was involved, too, and it was her job to make sure nobody else encroached on their territory. They got wind that Jason was hanging around there and she was tasked with keeping him away.
“That night she grew angry when she realized that Jason had been covering up just how expansive his operation was and when she left him in a huff, she went straight to them,” she continued. “Betsy lost her cool and kicked Sasha out of the car ... and then proceeded to run her down.”
“Oh, geez,” Greg groused. “Did you tell them everything, Nana? What the ... ? Have you lost your ever-loving mind?”
Betsy, who continued to fight against Jack and Max as she was placed in handcuffs, shot her grandson a withering look. “This is your fault. You said it would be fine if someone on the crew found her. I said we should keep the others from the woods and dispose of her body ourselves but you didn’t want to get sweaty digging a hole.”
Brian’s eyebrows migrated higher and he shook his head. “How long were you two running drugs out at the resort?”
Betsy straightened at the question. “That’s none of your business. I’m not talking to any of you without a lawyer. I’m being railroaded and there’s no way I’m going to help you finish the job.”
“Well, that’s the first smart thing you’ve said.” Brian extended a hand to prod Betsy in front of him. “I’ll lock her in the car and then come back for Greg.” His lips quirked when Jack immediately moved to slide in at Ivy’s side. “I’m sure you guys have some heavy petting you want to do.”
“Oh, don’t encourage them,” Max groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “I think I’ve seen all the weird stuff I want to see today ... and that includes an old lady trying to bash my sister’s head in with a tree branch.”
Jack couldn’t hide his surprise. “Are you okay?” His hand immediately went to Ivy’s head and he started looking for bumps. “You weren’t hit, were you?”
Even though it was a serious situation — and there was still a dark soul in the woods to deal with — Ivy couldn’t hold back her smile. “I heard her right before she swung and ducked out of the way. I had everything under control. My brain is totally fine.”
“That’s still up for debate.” Jack wrapped his arms around her a second time and weaved side to side. She was safe ... again. She’d overcome unbelievable odds ... again. She’d solved a horrible crime ... again. He was starting to think she could do anything. “We’ll call it a win for today, though.”
Briefly, Ivy rested her head against his chest and let herself lean. It felt good to have the answers, even if they led to even more questions. The biggest was how much Dunham knew regarding what was happening at the resort. She had trouble believing the man knew nothing, but that wasn’t her problem to bear.
Behind her, Alison stirred. She’d been sitting on the ground for the bulk of the show, making sure that there were no sudden movements when the police swooped in to take Greg into custody, but now her curiosity was winning the war over her common sense.
“I don’t want to be the opportunistic weasel of the group or anything,” she started. “I also don’t want it to appear as if I’m using our crew chief’s unfortunate arrest to my advantage but ... what happens to us now?”
Jack opened his mouth to answer, and then realized he wasn’t sure what to say. “I honestly have no idea.”
“Do we report out here tomorrow?” Angel queried.
“No.” Brian, who was returning from the cruiser to collect Greg, shook his head. “I very much doubt they’re going to be able to assign someone to this group in such a short amount of time.”
“But ... won’t we get in trouble for that?” Angel looked legitimately nervous. “I mean, I don’t think anybody wants more time tacked onto their sentences because these guys were worse criminals than us.”
“I think that’s a fair concern,” Brian acknowledged. “I will contact the magistrate as soon as I get back to the office. I’m sure someone from the probation office will contact you with further instructions.”
“We’re going to get credit for today, right?” Alison pressed. “I don’t have a lot of time left and I would hate to think, however entertaining this all was, that I came out here despite the world’s worst hangover and didn’t get anything out of it.”
Ivy pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. It felt somehow wrong given the circumstances. Not everyone in the group was evil, she reminded herself. Alison, for example, was simply a woman trying to make up for a mistake.
“I’ll see what I can swing,” Brian offered. “I can’t promise anything but, given the circumstances, I wouldn’t be surprised if this particular group gets cut loose.”
Jack jerked up his head, hopeful. “How do you figure that’s a possibility?”
Brian held back a sigh, but just barely. “Let’s just say I have a little weight. I didn’t feel it was appropriate to throw around when Ivy was first arrested. This time, though ... I think it will be best for all concerned if she puts the community service in her rearview mirror.”
Wicked Games (An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book 17) Page 19