Wicked Reunion

by Lily Harper Hart

“Yeah, but ... do you think I’ve been good for him?”

  Felicity stopped fussing with her hair and pinned Ivy with a pointed look. “Is that a real question?”

  “Yeah. I need to know.”

  “Of course you’ve been good for him. He loves you beyond reason. He wasn’t exactly Mr. Gregarious when he came to town. He was hiding and hurt. You brought him out of his shell, too. Where is this doubt coming from?”

  “I don’t know that it’s doubt,” Ivy hedged. “It’s just ... I didn’t think about it until the jerky detective brought it up yesterday. Other police officers are going to know that Jack’s wife has been arrested. Will that reflect poorly on him?”

  “No. Everyone knows the circumstances you were arrested under were crap.”

  “Detective Archibald doesn’t know that.”

  “Yes, well, he sounds like the king of the tools.” Felicity went back to patting the top of her hair. “You’re worrying about nothing and I guarantee Jack is going to be upset if he figures it out. You need to let it go and focus on me. You’re sure I look okay, right?”

  Ivy couldn’t contain her smile. “I’m certain you look amazing. Now, come on. We should get this over with before you turn yourself into a pretzel.”

  Felicity opened her mouth to argue, but it was already too late. Ivy dragged her to the door and pushed through it, yanking her inside before she could come up with a reason to delay things.

  Dorian was behind the counter, a cleaning bucket and bottles of chemicals resting out in the open. He seemed surprised to find customers darkening his doorstep ... and was even more awed when he realized who he was dealing with.

  “Ivy, you’re back.”

  She bobbed her head. “I am ... and I brought a friend.”

  Slowly, Dorian’s eyes tracked to Felicity. Ivy wasn’t an expert, but she was convinced she saw an instant spark of recognition — and something more — and her heart did a happy little jig. She managed to hold it together, though.

  “You remember my aunt, right?”

  “Of course.” Dorian wiped off his hands on a towel and worked his mouth. No sound immediately came out, and when he finally did speak it was haltingly. “I ... um ... it’s so good to see you, Felicity.” His face flushed with pleasure as he hurried out from behind the counter. “I was planning on coming to see you. After running into Ivy and realizing ... .”

  “Realizing what?” Felicity asked blankly as he grabbed her hands and gave them an intimate squeeze.

  “That you’re not married,” Ivy answered for him, her gaze going to the tiled floor. There was still blood remaining and she couldn’t help thinking back to the previous day. “Have you heard an update about the woman who was shot?”

  “What?” Dorian’s face was blank when he turned it to her. “Oh, well ... um ... .”

  Ivy tried to keep it together because she knew he was flustered, but it took effort. “Should I take that as a no?”

  “Um ... no.” He decisively shook his head. “I called the hospital, but without a name they wouldn’t give me an update.”

  “Even with a name they wouldn’t,” Ivy muttered, blowing out a sigh. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with cleaning this up. That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “Yes, well, it has to be done.”

  “It’s certainly not fair,” Felicity agreed. “I can help you, though. I know a thing or two about cleaning.”

  “I remember.” Dorian’s smile was warm as he held her gaze. “You always loved to clean. I never got that about you, but I found it adorable.”

  “I think it’s weird,” Ivy offered. When neither looked in her direction, she shook her head. It was as if she wasn’t even there. “So ... I’m going to head over to the hospital and see if I can get an update on the victim that way.”

  “That sounds lovely, dear.” Felicity shot an absent wave in her niece’s direction. “Try to stay out of trouble. Jack won’t be happy if you get arrested again.”

  Ivy scowled. “Why do you have to keep bringing that up?”

  “Because it’s funny. Now, you should head off. Dorian and I have a lot to catch up on.”

  “We certainly do.”

  Ivy made sure to give the stain on the floor a wide berth as she trudged back to the door. “It’s as if I’m invisible,” she complained to no one in particular as she tugged on the handle. “I don’t even know why I came.”

  “Ivy,” Dorian called out, his eyes twinkling when she shifted back. “You came because you’re a good niece. I always knew you would grow up to be something extraordinary. I’m glad to see I wasn’t mistaken.”

  Ivy’s cheeks flushed with pleasure. “Oh, well ... thank you.”

  “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again.”

  “I’m sure you will, too,” Felicity said. “Later, though.” She shot Ivy a warning look. “Ivy has things to do right now.”

  “Don’t worry,” Ivy supplied. “I’m leaving. You two have a nice reunion.”

  Neither responded. They were too busy talking — and staring — at one another. They were in their own little world now, and despite what happened, Ivy couldn’t be sorry about tracking down Dorian. Things had worked out even better than planned.

  BELLAIRE WAS TOO SMALL FOR A HOSPITAL so Ivy had to drive to Traverse City, which was a good thirty minutes away. She had no idea how she was going to approach the receptionist positioned at the front of the lobby when she entered, but it ultimately didn’t matter because someone saw her before she could make up her mind.

  “Ms. Morgan.”

  Ivy stiffened at the voice and frowned as she turned. There, sitting in one of the chairs and working on a tablet, was the detective who had invaded her home only two hours before. “Detective Archibald,” she gritted out. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  “I believe that was going to be my line,” Archibald replied, inclining his head toward the chair across from him. “Why don’t you take a seat so we can talk?”

  That sounded like the last thing Ivy wanted to do, but given her current predicament, she didn’t see she had a choice. “Sure.” She flopped in the chair and regarded him with what she hoped was a breezy expression. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m checking on our victim.”

  “Oh, yeah? How is she?”

  “Still alive, but it’s doubtful that she’ll stay that way. She’s circling the drain.”

  Ivy’s heart skipped a beat at the way he delivered the news. “Well, that’s ... harsh. If she’s still alive she might be able to fight her way back. You don’t know.”

  “I guess that’s fair.” Archibald’s gaze was contemplative as he looked her up and down. “Were you going to try and get in to see her?”

  Was she? Ivy didn’t have an answer for the question. “I was going to see what her condition was,” she said finally. “I thought maybe I might be able to schmooze a nurse or something.”

  “It’s illegal for them to give out private medical information.”

  “I know.” Ivy’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “I wanted to see anyway. I mean ... I saw her get shot. It’s not something I’m going to forget.”

  “No, but to be fair, you’ve been a part of quite a few violent situations over the past year, haven’t you?”

  Ivy didn’t like his tone. “Is there something you want to ask me?”

  “You don’t seem all that open to point-blank questions,” he argued. “In fact, you seem rather closed off. If I’m being truthful, that indicates to me that you’ve got something to hide.”

  “Well, I don’t. I don’t even know this woman’s name.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “That I don’t know her name? Yeah. I’m sure.”

  “Then how were you going to request an update on her condition?”

  “Do you think this hospital has a lot of people who were shot in the back at a framing store?”

  “Fair point.” He exhaled heavily and leaned back in his chair. “I want to help you, Ms. Morg
an. I think you’re in over your head here. For that to happen, though, you have to help me.”

  Ivy sensed danger but managed to keep from voicing her suspicions. “And how am I supposed to help you? I don’t know the victim. I saw her for a grand total of twenty seconds before she was shot. That is the extent of my knowledge on this situation.”

  “So you say.”

  “What else am I supposed to say?” Ivy practically exploded. “I get that you’re suspicious of me. It’s a weird story and I would’ve questioned me at the start, too, but you have video footage of what happened. You saw that I’m not the one who hurt her.”

  “That doesn’t mean you don’t know who did.”

  Ivy felt as if she was trapped on a carousel with no way off. They simply kept going around and around. “And what would my motive be?”

  “I don’t know,” Archibald replied. “Perhaps Miss Parker was having an affair with your boyfriend. I mean ... I’m no expert, but love triangles are often at the root of violent altercations.”

  Ivy was absolutely flabbergasted. “Are you being serious? I just ... what is the matter with you? I told you I don’t know this woman.”

  “Bethany Parker. That’s her name.”

  Ivy racked her memory for a sign she’d ever met the woman and came up empty. “I don’t know her. I’m sorry. Is she local?”

  “She is. She grew up in Bellaire. We’re trying to ascertain her ties to Shadow Lake even as we speak.”

  “Shadow Lake?” Ivy drew her eyebrows together. “Why would she ... ?” She trailed off, understanding dawning. “You think that you’re going to find ties between her and me and that’s why you’re looking at Shadow Lake.”

  “You’re engaged to a police detective. You probably know more about proper police procedure than most. I have to start somewhere.”

  “And you think that I’m your starting point.”

  “It makes sense. Why else would she show up in the exact spot where you were?”

  “Maybe because she was running and that was the first open business she saw.”

  “Maybe ... but that doesn’t feel right to me. I’m sure your fiancé has told you that ninety percent of police work is about following your gut.”

  Actually, Jack had told Ivy nothing of the sort. “I thought ninety percent of police work was following clues and discovering facts.”

  “That’s only on television.”

  “Uh-huh.” Ivy pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. She was convinced she could feel a migraine coming on, and it had Archibald’s name written all over it. “If you don’t have any other questions, I think I’ll be going now. I just wanted to check on ... Bethany.”

  “And now you have. She’s unlikely to survive, though. You should know that. There’s no reason to come back.”

  Ivy narrowed her eyes as she stood. The statement felt like a veiled warning, although she had no idea how she was supposed to react to it. “Well, you have a nice day.”

  “And the same to you, ma’am.”

  IVY TOLD HERSELF THAT SHE SHOULD go home and mind her own business. It was obvious that Archibald was going to continue to look at her, and if she kept sticking her nose into the case, odds were that his suspicions regarding her would only grow.

  She was a rational woman who knew better than finding trouble ... and yet she couldn’t stop herself.

  She used her phone to look up Bethany Parker. She didn’t find much except for a Facebook page and a few mentions on address search pages. Thankfully one of those pages pointed her toward a pretty house in a tree-lined cul-de-sac, and that’s where she found herself sitting only twenty minutes after separating from Archibald.

  To give herself time to cool down, Ivy flicked through the photos on Bethany’s page. Most of them were selfies of the drinking variety. It appeared Bethany was a party girl who liked to have a good time at numerous places, including the bar in downtown Bellaire, three of the restaurants at a local resort, the sand bar at Torch Lake, and even what looked to be a rundown bar in a neighboring town. All the photos had been taken in the past six months, which didn’t necessarily mean anything, Ivy told herself, but it was possible that a clue was there ... if she could just figure out what.

  Her phone rang with an incoming call when she was delving deeper into Bethany’s personal life and she jolted until she saw Jack’s name scroll across the screen. Then she felt guilty. She could’ve ignored the call, pretended she was busy at work or even didn’t hear the ring, but she couldn’t force herself to do that so instead she answered with a sort of resignation that Jack picked up on right away.

  “Hey.”

  “Where are you?” Jack’s voice was tinged with suspicion.

  Ivy decided to turn the tables on him. “Where are you?”

  “I’m at the nursery. I thought I would stop by to see how you were doing after our visitor upset you this morning. Your father said you took off with Felicity.”

  Ah, well, crap. There would be no dissuading him from sniffing out the truth on this one. “I was with Felicity,” she admitted. “I took her to see Dorian. They basically fell all over each other the first second they locked eyes, and I felt like a third wheel, so I left.”

  “Does that mean you’re on your way home?”

  “Um ... .”

  “Ivy.” His voice was low and full of warning. “Just tell me where you are. I can tell you’re up to something. It gives me this tight feeling in my stomach. I think you might be giving me an ulcer, if you must know.”

  Ivy could picture his hangdog expression and it made her smile. “I’m not giving you an ulcer. Don’t put that on me.”

  “Fine. I don’t have an ulcer. I do have indigestion, though. Where are you?”

  “Well, after I left Dorian’s shop, I decided to go to the hospital in Traverse City. I was hoping I could get an update on the woman from yesterday.”

  “And?” Jack didn’t sound surprised as much as resigned. “Did you get your update?”

  “In a manner of speaking. I ran into Archibald.”

  Jack viciously swore under his breath. “I knew that was going to happen. Did he say anything to you? Did he threaten you?”

  “No. He told me the victim’s name, said she wasn’t likely to survive, and then admitted that he’s looking for ties between her and me.”

  “Did you recognize the name?”

  “No.”

  “Then there won’t be any ties. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  It didn’t feel that way to Ivy, but she was in no mood for a fight. “I decided to leave because he made me uncomfortable.”

  “That was smart. Are you coming back to the nursery?”

  “Actually I’m sitting in my car in front of Bethany’s house.”

  There was silence on the other end of the call for a long time and Ivy wondered if he’d somehow had a stroke and needed medical assistance. “Jack?”

  “I’m still here,” he said finally, his voice low. “I just ... why are you in front of her house?”

  Ivy honestly didn’t have an answer. “Because ... I don’t know. I saw her get shot, Jack. She’s not supposed to survive. Archibald actually used the term ‘circling the drain’ to prove that he’s the biggest tool in the world. I want to know what happened to her.”

  “This isn’t my case, Ivy,” he reminded her. “You can’t just go sticking your nose in another man’s case ... especially when that man is convinced that you’re a suspect in an attempted murder plot.”

  “I’m not sticking my nose in.”

  “Then what are you doing?”

  “Getting a feel for ... stuff.”

  “Oh, geez.” The sound of a hand slapping skin was distinct over the call and Ivy had no doubt he’d smacked his hand against his forehead. “You’re definitely going to give me an ulcer.”

  “You’re going to be fine and I’m not going to be here very long,” Ivy replied. “In fact, I see a neighbor now. I’m just going to ask her a few questions
and be on my way. You really have nothing to worry about, Jack. I’ve got everything under control.”

  “Ivy ... .”

  “I love you,” she said. “I have to do this, though. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

  She didn’t think he was going to respond, but then he finally found his voice. “I love you, too. Don’t get in any trouble.”

  “Not even a tiny bit. I promise.”

  8

  Eight

  “I’ve decided I don’t want to get married any longer,” Jack announced as he disconnected his phone and glared at Michael.

  For his part, the older man was more amused than worried. He had no doubt that Jack was Ivy’s forever. The way they looked at one another, interacted, was all proof that sometimes destiny did indeed exert a helping hand. “You’re just ornery because she didn’t invite you on whatever adventure she’s embarked on.”

  “No, I’m afraid,” Jack countered. “She’s sticking her nose into an investigation that I’m not a part of. She could get in real trouble.”

  Michael’s smile faltered. “What do you mean?”

  “That woman who was shot. She’s at her house.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I have no idea.” Jack threw up his hands and stomped his feet. “I just don’t understand what goes through her head sometimes. You raised her to be like this. Why?”

  Michael snorted. “She’s always been the curious sort. Even as a child she always enjoyed solving a mystery. For example, when she was ten, Margaret Fletcher went missing and she decided to start her own private detective agency to find her.”

  Jack was understandably confused. “Who is Margaret Fletcher?”

  “She lived in the house down the road from you guys.”

  “The one that’s completely falling apart and is empty now?”

  Michael nodded. “That would be the one.”

  “I’m guessing she didn’t find her.”

  “On the contrary, Margaret had moved out of her house and in with her best friend’s husband. It was supposed to be a secret while the best friend was out of town and tending to her sick mother. Ivy wouldn’t let it go, though, and actually found her ... and then accidentally blew the lid off the affair in the process because she was so excited.”