Ivy Morgan Mystery Box Set 5

by Lily Harper Hart

  “Not particularly,” Jack replied, his attention back on breakfast preparations. “Everything is fine.”

  Brian wasn’t convinced. “Ivy?”

  “Hmm?” She was the picture of innocence when she turned to him.

  “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “What makes you think anything is going on?” she asked. “We’re fine.”

  “Uh-huh.” Brian glanced back toward the living room. “How come there’s a pillow and blanket on the couch?”

  “Because we try not to leave things on the floor,” Jack replied without hesitation.

  “Oh, funny guy.” Brian made a face. “You guys obviously had a fight. I’m guessing this is you after making up ... but still tiptoeing around each other to make sure the fight doesn’t expand.”

  Jack sighed. “We had a disagreement, which is part of the reason we called you here.”

  “I’m not a relationship counselor. Even if I was, there’s no power in this world that could convince me to step between the two of you.”

  “We’ve worked it out ourselves,” he said quickly. “It’s just ... the fight was about our plans for the day. You’re part of those plans so we figured we should share the information.”

  “Ugh. Do I even want to know?”

  “Yes, because I’m going to need your help.” Jack moved the hash browns from the heat and turned to the eggs. “Ivy is going to agree to be their new star with a stipulation.”

  “What?” Brian was utterly gobsmacked. “You can’t be serious. You’re letting her go on a dating show?”

  “I don’t let her do anything. She has a mind of her own.”

  “Oh, right.” Brian rolled his eyes, straightening when he realized Ivy was watching. “I mean ... of course she has a mind of her own.”

  Despite the serious nature of the conversation, Ivy couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “I can see why you’ve been married as long as you have, Brian,” she teased. “You’re a natural when it comes to discussing female empowerment.”

  “Oh, don’t give me grief,” Brian complained. “I happen to think I’m a great cheerleader when it comes to female empowerment. What I don’t understand is why you’re doing this, Ivy. There’s no possible benefit for you ... and there’s a lot to fear if the wrong thing gets filmed and the world finds out what you can do.”

  Ivy pressed her lips together as she nodded. “I know. We’ve talked about that.”

  “We have,” Jack agreed. “That’s why she’s not agreeing to sign the release until after she meets each and every male candidate who is going to appear on the show.”

  Brian furrowed his brow, confused. “I don’t understand.”

  “She’s not really going to be on the show,” Jack explained. “She’s going to say she’s considering it but wants a chance to meet every contestant to make sure they don’t weird her out — there is a murderer out there, after all — and when she’s finished, she will make her decision.”

  Realization dawned on Brian. “Oh. You think Ivy will be able to pinpoint the guilty party if it’s one of the contestants. You’re going to use that thing she does — the thing I wasn’t allowed to bring up before — and totally confuse these dudes to see if they’re killers.”

  “I don’t know if ‘confuse’ is the word I would use,” Ivy hedged.

  “You know what I mean ... and there’s no reason to use other words to clarify. I’m fine being in the dark on this one.”

  “I can’t think of another way to narrow down our suspects,” Jack admitted. “She’s going to pull each man aside for a five-minute conversation, brush her hand against an arm, and send them on their way if there’s no flash of anything.”

  “Oh, don’t say flash,” Brian whined. “That makes me uncomfortable.”

  Jack snorted. “All I need from you is to help me watch her. We’ll be there interviewing people again. We don’t have anything else to do. We need help ... and I think Ivy is our best asset.”

  Brian let loose a dramatic sigh. “I guess. I’m not sure I like this, though. I’m stunned you’re okay with it. I can’t remember you ever being okay with her being bait.”

  “She’s not bait,” Jack stressed quickly. “I don’t like that word. She’s just helping us because we need it.”

  “Fine.” Brian surrendered. “She’s helping us. I’m fine with that. How are we going to explain zeroing in on a suspect she gives us?”

  “I figure we’ll worry about that if she finds someone. I mean ... it’s still a long shot one of these guys is the culprit. It could be someone else entirely.”

  “Yeah.” Brian dragged a hand through his hair, weary. “Well, lay some breakfast on me. I’m going to need the fuel if I have to sit and listen to you complaining about other men flirting with your woman all day.”

  “I’m not going to complain.”

  Ivy slid her eyes to Jack, her lips curving. “Even I don’t believe that. You’re acting brave now. You’re going to melt down later.”

  “I’m going to be strong.” Jack puffed out his chest. “You’re going to be amazed how strong I am.”

  “I guess we’ll have to see if you prove me wrong. Until then, I need the fuel, too. I’m a little nervous.”

  “There’s no reason to be nervous,” Jack insisted. “I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”

  “You always are.”

  “And don’t you forget it.”

  “Ugh.” Brian slapped his hand to his forehead when Jack winked at Ivy. “You guys are even annoying after a fight. I can’t wait until you’ve been married for two years and stop doing this weird crap. It’s getting old.”

  “We’re never going to change,” Jack warned. “You’d better get used to it. As long as we’re partners, you’re going to have to listen to it.”

  “Now that is a frightening thought.”

  IVY MANAGED TO HIDE HER nervous energy behind a wall of bravado as she faced off with Donahue. He wasn’t happy with her edict, but since it was his only shot to get what he wanted, he acquiesced to her demands. That meant Ivy was essentially in charge of conducting interviews in the town square, under the watchful eyes of Maisie and Ava — who remained bitter she was chosen over them — and she was eager to get down to business.

  “So ... you’re a model, huh?” She forced a smile as she watched Kato Johnson shift on his seat. He had shoulder-length blond hair, expressive eyes, and a surfer-dude attitude that grated from the moment he opened his mouth.

  “I always knew I wanted to be famous,” he said, grinning. “My mother said I came out of her uterus striking a pose.”

  “That’s a lovely visual.”

  “She named me after a famous guy. Kato Kaelin. Have you ever heard of him?”

  “I believe he’s the gentleman who was living with O.J. Simpson during the time he was under suspicion for killing his wife.”

  “Yeah. He was a hero.”

  “That’s not exactly how I remember the story.”

  “No, he was a total hero ... and he looked good on screen.” Kato briefly rested his hand on top of Ivy’s and gave her a flirty wink. “I want to be a hero, too.”

  Ivy saw a flash, but it wasn’t the sort of information she was looking for. “Yeah? I think you’re going to be disappointed.” She shook her head. “Thanks for stopping by, though.” She quickly turned to her list and marked off Kato’s name. “Mr. Waltrip, you’re next.”

  She’d purposely saved Waltrip until she was more comfortable with her line of questioning. Since she didn’t trust him, it would be convenient if he was the guilty party. She could get a flash, run straight to Jack, and walk away from this ridiculous farce as soon as possible.

  “You must be Ivy.” Waltrip didn’t smile as much as grimace as he looked her up and down, lingering on her skirt an extended period of time. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I caught your last name.”

  “Morgan,” she supplied automatically.

  “Oh.” He brightene
d considerably. “Are you one of the Traverse City Morgans?”

  “I didn’t know there were Traverse City Morgans. I guess that makes sense, though. Morgan is a fairly popular last name.”

  “Yes, but which Morgans are you associated with?”

  “The Shadow Lake Morgans.”

  “I see ... and what are the Shadow Lake Morgans famous for?”

  “My father makes a darned good vegetarian chili.”

  Waltrip rolled his eyes and heaved out a sigh. “I’m guessing that means you’re not famous for anything. How ... joyous.”

  Ivy ran her tongue over her teeth and forced herself to remain calm. If she blew up now, everything was for nothing, she reminded herself. It was important that she hold it together ... at least until she made it through the entire list of men. “Well, I’m sorry I’m a disappointment.” She reached out to touch his hand, but he instinctively pulled away. “What are you doing?”

  “What are you doing?” Waltrip shot back, making a face. “I didn’t say you could touch me.”

  “No, but ... I wasn’t trying to touch you in a dirty way. I was trying to reassure you that I wasn’t so bad even though I’m not a Traverse City Morgan.”

  “I wasn’t all that impressed with the Traverse City Morgans to start with,” he complained. “They own malls, for crying out loud. Malls are dying. Why would I be impressed with that?”

  “I don’t know. I just ... let me touch your hand.”

  “No. You don’t look the type to wash your hands after urinating.”

  Ivy’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

  “It’s polite to wash your hands after using the restroom,” Waltrip barreled forward. “I’m guessing you never wash your hands. I mean ... look at your fingernails.”

  Instinctively, Ivy glanced down at her dirty fingernails and frowned. “I work for a living ... at a nursery. I potted some plants yesterday. I’ve washed my hands since. You don’t have to worry.”

  “Well ... .”

  “Just let me touch your hand.”

  “I don’t believe so.”

  “You tool.” Ivy leaned over as far as she could and grabbed the man’s wrist, holding tight for a few seconds before releasing him. The flash she got from him told her all she needed to know. “You’re free to go. I hope you have a wonderful time with Laverne.”

  Waltrip’s eyes widened. “How do you know about Laverne?”

  “I know many things. She seems like a fine ostrich.”

  “She’s a show ostrich.”

  “I didn’t know show ostriches were a real thing. I’m sure you’ll have fun at the big competition, whenever that is.”

  “Next month. She’s going to win everything.”

  “Good for her.” Ivy slid down in her chair and made a shooing motion. “You can go now.”

  “Yes. I’m happy to get out of here. I just ... my mother told me that reality television wasn’t for me. I should’ve listened to her.”

  “You definitely should have.”

  “IVY DOESN’T LOOK LIKE she’s having fun,” Max noted as he joined Brian and Jack at a picnic table at the edge of the square. “In fact, she looks as if she’s about to undergo another round of torture.”

  Jack shrugged. “She’s ... learning something about her potential co-stars. Your sister is a big fan of the education process.”

  “Oh, don’t even.” Max made a face. “She’s not interested in this show. She was never interested in this show. By the way, if she accepts, I’m out. I don’t want to be out because I’m actually interested in the show … although I’m not interested enough to date my sister. There’s nothing you can say to convince me that she is interested in all this, though, so what gives?”

  Jack slid him a sidelong look. “Listen ... .”

  “Your sister is undercover,” Brian said quickly, hoping to head off an argument between the two men. They didn’t always get along and the last thing Brian wanted was heads turning in their direction because Jack and his future brother-in-law were having a slap fight. “She’s trying to find out if one of the men is guilty of killing Éclair. She’s not joining the show. You’re safe but keep it on the down-low.”

  Jack made an exaggerated protesting sound. “Why did you tell him that? It was supposed to be a secret.”

  “Max is Ivy’s brother. He has a right to know what’s going on with her. Besides, he can help keep an eye on her if something comes up with us ... which looks to be the case right now.”

  Jack was instantly alert. “What do you mean?” He glanced around, looking for someone dangerous trying to move in on Ivy. She was sitting with a man he didn’t recognize, but the individual didn’t look particularly dangerous as much as boring.

  “Not that way,” Brian corrected, jutting his chin toward the parking lot. “That way.”

  Jack followed his partner’s gaze, frowning when he realized who was walking in their direction. “Archie. Did you call and ask for him to stop by?”

  “I didn’t,” Brian replied. “I did call and leave another message at the house, insisting we needed to talk to the elder Sheridan. A rather rude maid told me that wasn’t going to be possible and she had no idea when he would be returning.”

  “Maybe Archie is here to give us the bad news in person,” Jack suggested, pushing himself to a standing position. “Max, do me a favor and keep an eye on your sister. If she looks to be having a rough time of it, go over there and save her.”

  “Ivy isn’t going to like it if you say things like that in front of her,” Max chided. “She’s ‘power to the female’ and all that.” He raised his fist for emphasis. “She would say she can take care of herself.”

  Jack scowled. “Éclair Sheridan was beaten to within an inch of her life and left to suffer while dying a slow and painful death. You watch your sister.”

  Max balked. “Okay, geez. I was just messing with you. I was always going to watch her.”

  “Yeah, well, make sure you do.” Jack tugged on his shirt to smooth it and then moved to intercept Archie. “Let’s see what he wants. Maybe he’s got information that can help us.”

  “That would be a nice change of pace,” Brian agreed, falling into step with his partner. “I don’t think we’re going to get that lucky, though.”

  “I don’t think we are either.”

  Archie greeted the two detectives with a half-hearted wave. He looked sheepish, as if he didn’t have good news. Jack wasn’t surprised by his demeanor. It was obvious he was left behind to do the dirty work whenever his father wanted or needed something done. Archie was the scapegoat, which meant he was present to deliver some bad news.

  “Rosita informed us you called this morning,” Archie started. “She's one of our maids and she said you were upset.”

  “I don’t think that’s the right word,” Brian countered. “I wasn’t upset as much as frustrated. We’ve been trying to get your father on the phone and he refuses to call us back.”

  “He left the state.”

  “Phones work between states. They’re funny that way.”

  He sighed. “Yes, well ... he’s in mourning.”

  Brian made a ridiculous face. “Okay, here’s the thing: I don’t believe that. Your father showed zero interest in your sister. We need to talk to him. It’s a necessity, not a courtesy.”

  Archie licked his lips. “May I ask why you want to talk to my father? You may not believe it, but he really is mourning. Éclair’s death hit him harder than I realized. He might not be mourning how you would, but he’s still troubled by what happened.”

  “He also had a million-dollar life insurance policy on her,” Brian said. “We need to discuss with him why he had that policy ... and why he hasn’t made arrangements to claim his daughter’s body.”

  “I would’ve assumed Sherry was doing that.”

  “She said your father was doing it.”

  “Oh, well ... .” Archie looked troubled as he trailed off. “Are you sure my father had a life insuranc
e policy on my sister?”

  “We are, and we find it suspicious.”

  “It’s definitely suspicious,” Archie agreed. “I wonder if that’s why he took his passport with him. You don’t suppose he did more than leave the state, do you?”

  “Why would you think that?” Jack asked, instantly alert.

  “Because his private pilot hasn’t returned any of my calls and won’t tell me where he dropped off my father. I thought it was Florida, but the flight plan was changed and no one will tell me the ultimate destination of the plane.”

  “Well ... that is definitely weird.” Jack rolled his neck. “I think we need to sit down and talk. There’s a lot going on here.”

  “Certainly.”

  Seventeen

  Ivy needed a break. After touching eight men — eight of the most vacuous men she’d ever met — her head hurt and she needed a nap. Instead of waving over the next man in line, she dropped her head to her hands and stared at her shoes under the table.

  “You look as if you’re about to melt down.”

  Ivy jerked her head up at the sound of the voice and immediately regretted her actions when a jolt of pain shot through her neck. “Ugh.” She reached for the spot and glared at the woman standing next to her. “Who are you?”

  “Valerie. I’m your new assistant.”

  Ivy was certain she’d misheard the woman. “Excuse me?”

  She chuckled. “I’m your new assistant,” she repeated. “Roy sent me over. He thinks you need help sorting through the men. Since I was Éclair’s assistant — and am now out of a job — he thought I should help you.”

  “Out of the goodness of your heart?”

  “I don’t do anything out of the goodness of my heart.” Valerie sat on the bench next to Ivy. “He’s paying me ... and since I need the money, here I am. I think he’s worried you’re going to get overwhelmed and take off before signing the release.”

  Ivy didn’t immediately respond. She had no intention of signing that release. She would die first. She knew better than acknowledging that to Valerie, though. The woman was on Donahue’s payroll. That meant she would report anything Ivy said to him.