Wicked Fog (An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book 6)

by Lily Harper Hart

  “What I do know is that he wouldn’t have even had a shot at surviving if it wasn’t for you,” he continued. “You saved him. You should be proud of yourself.”

  “I’m not sure I did anything to be proud of.”

  “Nonsense,” Felicity interjected. “You didn’t let your fear and worry that Jack will dump you because you’re different overwhelm you. Instead you did the right thing and called him so he could help Don. That’s certainly something to be proud of.”

  Ivy’s mouth dropped open as her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “I can’t either,” Jack said, rubbing his chin. “I think I know why you said it, though.”

  “I said it because Ivy is too stubborn to admit it herself,” Felicity said. “She’s letting the worry make her sick, and I knew you would want to know, Jack.”

  “Thank you for that,” Jack said. “Ivy and I are going to have a talk the second you leave.”

  “I figured you would,” Felicity said, chuckling as she moved to Ivy’s side and kissed her niece’s cheek. Ivy refused to return the gesture and instead stood with her arms crossed over her chest. “You’ll forgive me eventually. When you do, I’ll have a pot of tea ready for you at the store.”

  “What else were you doing here?” Jack asked, escorting her to the door. “I mean … other than taking over Max’s babysitting duties, that is?”

  “I don’t need a babysitter!”

  Jack ignored Ivy’s outburst. “Were you here for a specific reason?”

  Felicity studied him for a moment, almost as if she was trying to gauge his worth. “I was here because Ivy is going through something she doesn’t understand and ultimately believes is terrible,” she replied. “I don’t happen to believe that – and she’s not the first in our family to discover that she has this gift.”

  “She’ll be okay, right?”

  “She’ll be fine once she reins in her emotions,” Felicity said, offering Jack a kind smile. She adored the fact that his mind went to Ivy’s health before anything else. “I put up a few wards and burned some sage to cleanse the house. She shouldn’t have to worry about anyone else invading her dreams again.”

  “What about the other?”

  “Her going into a killer’s head? She should still be able to do that. Hopefully, with time, she’ll even learn how to control it.”

  “Thank you,” Jack said. “I really appreciate all you’ve done for her.”

  “I really appreciate all you’ve done for her,” Felicity said. “That’s why I baked you a pie.”

  Jack’s eyes lit up. “Seriously?”

  “Yes. It’s cooling on the counter.”

  Jack shifted his eyes and found what he was looking for, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “You really know how to make my night, don’t you?”

  “I think I do,” Felicity said. “Now you just need to make her night. Can you do that?”

  “I’m on it.”

  JACK made a big show of opening the food containers and placing them in the center of the table as Ivy stood a few feet away and watched. She was still mortified by her aunt’s big mouth, and she couldn’t help but feel she should do something – like apologize or run and hide in her bedroom – but Jack seemed at ease when he motioned for her to sit.

  “I got you the veggie wrap, French fries, onion rings, those apple rings you like, and a side of mashed potatoes because I didn’t know what you would be in the mood for,” Jack volunteered.

  Ivy couldn’t help but smile. “Are you trying to fatten me up?”

  “I’m trying to make sure you have everything you need,” Jack countered. “Before we eat, though, we need to talk.”

  Ivy’s heart rolled. “We do?”

  “Wipe that look off your face right now,” Jack ordered. “That look is what we need to talk about. I don’t want to see it again – not because you’re worried about me breaking up with you because you’re different, at least. Do you understand?”

  Ivy wet her lips. “Jack … .”

  “No.” Jack’s headshake was firm. “I am not going to break up with you over this. I don’t care that it’s new and you’re still feeling your way around. I like that you’re different. That’s the reason I fell … I mean, that’s the reason I was attracted to you in the first place.”

  Jack’s tongue trip wasn’t lost on Ivy, and she realized what he almost said before stopping himself. Max was right, she internally mused. Jack wanted to say it but was afraid. They were exactly alike … which was a frightening thought.

  “I don’t mean to be insecure,” Ivy said, choosing her words carefully. “It’s just … now that I have you, I’m terrified I’m going to lose you. You’re only going to be able to put up with so much before it’s too much.”

  “That’s not true,” Jack said. “It will never be too much. That’s beside the point, though. I don’t blame you for this. I’m not angry. I’m not put out. I’m simply trying to understand, just like you.

  “We’re going to muddle through this together, Ivy Morgan,” he continued. “You can’t get rid of me. Don’t even try. Do you understand?”

  Ivy pressed her lips together and nodded.

  “Good. Now eat your dinner because I’m going to go nuts with that pie in exactly thirty minutes.”

  Ivy couldn’t stop herself from giggling. “Thank you.”

  The words were so simple – so heartfelt – Jack’s heart hitched. “Honey, thank you for being you,” he said. “Don’t worry about things like that, though. That drives me crazy.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now eat your dinner,” Jack said. “That pie is calling to me. I might take that pie with us when we dream tonight, in fact. Prepare yourself. We’re going to a pie-eating contest tonight, honey.”

  Nineteen

  “How did you tell your wife you loved her the first time?”

  Jack’s bungled attempt at reassuring Ivy the previous night still bothered him the next day as he made the trek across the town square to the clinic on foot with Brian. The words were out of his mouth before he could give serious thought to whether or not it was wise to bring up the subject.

  For his part, the older cop was taken aback by the question. He didn’t see it coming. “Excuse me?”

  Jack wasn’t bothered by Brian’s incredulous tone. “How did you tell your wife you loved her the first time?”

  “I think you need to be more specific,” Brian said. “I just kind of blurted out the words and then hung my head until she said it back. Well, first she laughed at me for being a goofball and then she said it back. Is that what you’re looking for?”

  “You didn’t plan something special?” Jack asked, genuinely curious. “I mean … you didn’t take her out to dinner or for a moonlit stroll or anything? That seems … somehow anticlimactic.”

  “Oh, boy,” Brian muttered, tugging up the collar of his coat to ward off the chill as the two men closed the distance to the clinic. “You’re just a bundle of nerves, aren’t you?”

  “I almost told Ivy I loved her last night, but it didn’t happen,” Jack said. “It almost escaped, though, like my tongue was a mouse in a trap and it couldn’t break free fast enough.”

  Brian barked out a laugh, delighted. “You’re a real trip sometimes. I just … you’re so much work.”

  “That’s what I tell Ivy several times a week. About her, though, not me. I think I’m great.”

  “I think that’s what every man thinks until he finds the right woman to knock him down a peg or two,” Brian said. “As for planning something special, no, I didn’t do that. I thought I was going to do that, but the words kind of spilled out before I got the chance.”

  “Do you think your wife would’ve liked a special evening to mark the occasion?”

  “I think my wife was just happy I finally admitted it because things were getting tense between us at the time,” Brian replied. “This was thirty years ago, mind you, and she told
me she was starting to think I was never going to admit it – which meant I was never going to propose – and she was considering breaking up with me before it happened because she didn’t think the relationship was going anywhere.”

  The words had a sobering effect on Jack. “Do you think she really would’ve broken up with you?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think she would’ve picked a fight to force your hand?”

  “No.”

  “So what is the moral of this story?” Jack asked, frustrated. “Did you at least feel better after you did it?”

  “I felt a lot better after I did it,” Brian confirmed. “I also felt like an idiot for not doing it sooner.”

  “I feel more lost now than I did when we started this conversation,” Jack groused. “Do you think I should tell Ivy I love her?”

  “I’m stunned you haven’t done it already,” Brian answered honestly. “You two can’t stop cooing at one another when you’re feeling lovey-dovey. You both suffer from diarrhea of the mouth when you’re fighting, too. It should’ve easily spilled out then.”

  “I feel like the longer I wait, the harder it is to tell her,” Jack said. “I should’ve told her when I first realized it, but I thought it was too soon then. I still think it might be too soon. We’ve only been dating for a few months. What do you think? Is it too soon?” Jack was a babbling mess today. There was no way around that.

  “I knew I loved my wife two weeks after we started dating and I waited six months to tell her,” Brian said. “She wasn’t happy about that. She was even more unhappy when I finally said it right after … well, you know.”

  Jack was horrified when he realized what Brian was referring to. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. I can’t offer you a lot of advice on the subject, but never do it right after you do … that. The women don’t like it and think you’re only saying it because you briefly lost your mind. I had to say it another twenty times before the wife believed me.”

  “I wasn’t considering telling her like that,” Jack said. “I thought maybe I would take her out for a nice dinner and then tell her.”

  “Like … here’s a steak and I love you?”

  Jack snickered. “Kind of. Ivy won’t eat steak, though.”

  “I keep forgetting she’s a vegetarian,” Brian said. “Does that make your life difficult when making dinner plans?”

  “She’s pretty easy to appease on that front,” Jack replied. “She’s more than willing to settle for a salad. We were in Traverse City a few weeks ago and I wanted Red Lobster. You never realize how few choices there are for someone who won’t eat meat in a place like that.”

  “What did she get?”

  “They went off the menu and made her a vegetarian pasta so it wasn’t terrible, but I felt guilty,” Jack said. “That did not stop me from eating a huge steak, lobster tail, and crab legs, though.”

  “Hey, a man has got to eat.”

  Jack smiled, the morning sun bright even as the cold washed over him. Ivy was still asleep when he got out of bed. He snuggled up behind her for a few minutes, relishing the fact that he could hold her as long as he wanted, and then let her rest. He tucked her feet under the covers despite the fact that she always shoved them out again the moment he wasn’t looking and pressed a kiss to her cheek before leaving the room. Max was flipping through the newspaper in the kitchen when he left the house.

  “I need to tell her,” Jack said. “My stomach is twisted in knots because I haven’t done it yet.”

  “Then tell her.”

  “What if she doesn’t say it back?”

  “Good grief,” Brian muttered. “You’re such an idiot. Of course she’s going to say it back. Do you want to know what I think your problem is?”

  “Not really.”

  “I think you’re problem is that you keep holding back because once you say those words, it makes everything real.”

  “Everything is already real.”

  “Mostly, but not entirely,” Brian corrected. “Once you say those words, Ivy is truly going to be yours. Perhaps you don’t want that.”

  Jack was affronted. “Of course I want that,” he sputtered. “That’s all I want. I … how can you even say that?”

  “I’m just making an observation.” Brian averted his gaze because he didn’t want Jack to see the mirth in his eyes. If the younger police officer realized Brian was merely messing with him in an effort to propel him forward, he would fight the effort out of pure stubbornness.

  “She’s already mine,” Jack said. “She’s my … whole heart. I’m going to tell her.”

  “You should.”

  “I’m going to do it.”

  “Good.”

  Jack sucked in a calming breath as they hit the front door of the clinic. “I don’t even know why I confide in you sometimes.”

  “Life is a mystery, son,” Brian said. “Speaking of mysteries, though, we should see if we can make some progress on this one. We still have a murderer running free, and that’s not good for anyone.”

  “HOW IS he?” Jack asked Dr. Nesbitt as they walked through the door. The doctor must’ve been expecting them because he was standing in the lobby when they entered.

  “He’s awake, actually,” Nesbitt replied. “He’s not out of the woods, though.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that whoever stabbed him either didn’t know what he was doing or didn’t want Don to die,” Nesbitt replied. “I was talking with the specialist this morning – he’s staying out at the Graves Bed and Breakfast on the highway until Don can either be transferred or upgraded – and he thinks that someone purposely poked Don in an odd place.”

  “That sounds vaguely dirty,” Jack said, earning a sharp glare from Brian. “Continue, though.”

  “Instead of stabbing Don here – where the blade would go through the heart – whoever attacked him stabbed him through his ribcage,” Nesbitt said, demonstrating the manner of the attack on Brian. “I don’t know anyone who would attack that way.”

  “It is a weird way to try to kill someone,” Brian said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, if we were talking about a short individual, maybe. Don isn’t tall, though, and that means if someone was aiming high to stab him and accidentally got him in the rib area, they would have to be like four feet tall.”

  “Or on their knees,” Jack supplied.

  “Huh.” Brian was intrigued at the thought. “Why would someone be on their knees for an attack?”

  “That’s a good question,” Jack said. “The only thing I can think of is that perhaps someone crawled behind the car so Don wouldn’t see him before the attack and have time to run. Maybe Don caught sight of him before he had a chance to get to his feet.”

  “That’s as plausible a theory as anything else,” Brian said. “I’m curious about the wound, though. If it’s not in a terribly bad location, why is Don in such rough shape?”

  “Well, he lost a lot of blood,” Nesbitt said. “If you guys were even five minutes later than you were I don’t think he would’ve made it. Besides that, though, he’s also got significant liver damage that isn’t associated with the wound.”

  Jack read between the lines and surmised what Nesbitt was inferring. “He’s an alcoholic.”

  Nesbitt nodded. “His wife denies it. She was here earlier and had to return home to lay down because she had a headache, but he’s clearly been doing some heavy drinking.”

  “I think Melanie – that’s his wife – does quite a bit of drinking, too,” Brian said. “That’s my memory of spending time with them, at least. Is he going into liver failure?”

  “Not so far, but we’re watching him closely,” Nesbitt replied. “The good news is that the human liver is one of those organs that can bounce back if it’s not too late. The bad news is that Don’s wound has compounded the issue.”

  “So, what’s your treatment?” Jack asked.

  “We’re treating him normally right now,”
Nesbitt answered. “He doesn’t have access to alcohol here. Once he’s feeling stronger, we’ll have a long talk about the drinking. He’ll be detoxing here because he doesn’t have another choice, though.”

  “That’s probably for the best,” Brian said. “Can we see him?”

  “Yes, he’s expecting you,” Nesbitt said. “You need to keep the visit short, though. He needs his rest. Try to keep it to as few questions as possible.”

  “We really only need to ask one big question.”

  Jack and Brian followed Nesbitt into Don’s room. The shades were drawn to limit the light and the television was off. The only noise came from the rhythmic sound of the machines next to the bed.

  Don’s eyes were closed when the police officers entered the room. Nesbitt was gentle as he shuffled to the man’s side and carefully touched his arm.

  “Don, Brian Nixon and Jack Harker are here to talk to you,” Nesbitt said. “Do you feel up to talking to them?”

  Don was slow to open his eyes, and when he did, it took him a moment to focus on his guests. He grunted out his assent as he struggled to find a comfortable position, ultimately giving up and remaining on his back as Jack and Brian moved toward him.

  “We don’t want to take up too much of your time, Don, but we need to know what happened,” Brian prodded.

  “I don’t remember,” Don rasped. “I was in the garage. I was working on the carburetor and … that’s it. Everything goes blank.”

  “Do you think someone was in the garage with you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What were you doing before you went to the garage to work on the carburetor?” Jack asked. “Were you on the phone with anyone? Did you talk to anyone?”

  “Just Melanie,” Don replied. “She called from the supermarket to see if I wanted steak or chicken for dinner. I told her I wanted steak – but only if it was on sale – and then she hung up.

  “I sat in the chair watching the news for a few minutes because I wanted to hear what they were saying about Jeff’s death and then … I went out to the garage,” he continued. “I don’t really remember walking out there, though. I know I arrived because I remember working.”