Wicked Beginning: An Ivy Morgan Mystery Books 1-3

by Lily Harper Hart

  Two

  “Are you going to tell me about the witch?”

  After climbing into Brian’s patrol car and watching him navigate the country roads for five minutes, Jack was at his wit’s end. He was dying to know what Brian meant when he called Ivy a “witch.”

  “She’s a witch,” Brian said, shrugging. “She’s one of those nature-loving tree huggers who walks around in ankle-length skirts and pets trees because she doesn’t want people to cut them down. She’s kind of a … hippie.”

  “You said she was a witch, though,” Jack pointed out.

  “I think the politically correct term is Wiccan,” Brian said. “I don’t think she’s really a witch. I haven’t heard of any broom flying going on.”

  “Ava seems to think differently.”

  “That’s because Ava and Ivy went to high school together and all the boys in school had a thing for Ivy,” Brian said. “Ava was convinced it was because Ivy was casting spells on them. She refuses to believe it was simply because Ivy was low maintenance and … well … quite the looker.”

  Jack was intrigued, despite himself. “Go on.”

  “Well, you see, Ivy was always a free-spirited kid,” Brian said. “She refused to do the stuff the other kids were doing. Sometimes I think it was out of spite. While all the fifth graders spent the summer at church camp, Ivy spent her summer creating a fairy ring in the woods next to her house.”

  “A fairy ring?”

  “It’s some … garden thing,” Brian said. “It’s actually pretty beautiful. I saw it once. She still keeps it up. I think she goes out there to read in the summer.”

  “I don’t understand how that makes her a witch,” Jack said.

  “It doesn’t,” Brian said. “People just think she’s a witch because she identifies herself as Wiccan and she looks like a hippie. Well, and she doesn’t go to church.”

  Jack arched an eyebrow. “That makes her a witch?”

  “This is a Christian town,” Brian replied. “You can be a Baptist, Catholic, Methodist, or Missionary … we even have a group of Jehovah’s Witnesses who live on the outskirts of town … but you have to be a Christian.”

  “That sounds a little rigid to me,” Jack said. “It doesn’t sound like this woman is doing anything wrong.”

  “She never does anything wrong,” Brian said. “She’s loud … and opinionated … and don’t you dare ever litter in front of her because she doesn’t like it, but she’s a good woman.”

  “How well do you know her?”

  “I know her parents,” Brian said. “We’re about the same age, and we went to school together. Michael and Luna have always been … free-spirited.”

  “Is that code for something?”

  “They’re hippies, and they raised their kids to be hippies,” Brian said. “Ivy does whatever she wants to do, and she says whatever comes to her mind. She’s ruffled the occasional feather because she doesn’t tow the town line.”

  “I’m still waiting for the bad part,” Jack said.

  “Despite her … peculiarities … Ivy is still pretty popular,” Brian said. “It might be because she runs the best nursery in the entire state and she can make anything grow.”

  “Why else?”

  “Every single man in her age group has tried to date her – including my sons,” Brian said. “There’s just something about her. I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “Do you want to be more specific?”

  “You’ll see for yourself,” Brian said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if one look at her changes your mind about dating in Shadow Lake.”

  Jack snorted. “I can pretty much guarantee that’s not going to be the case,” he said. “I have nothing against dating a witch. I wasn’t joking about wanting to stay away from romantic stuff in general, though.”

  “We’ll see,” Brian said.

  IVY MORGAN paced the end of her driveway as she waited for the arrival of local law enforcement. Given the size of Shadow Lake, she was having trouble understanding how it could take anyone more than five minutes to get to her house.

  Her ankle-length gypsy skirt rustled around her ankles as she moved, and her bare feet padded silently on the gravel. Ivy was so worked up she didn’t even register the pain as the rocks pressed into the soft soles of her feet.

  Back and forth. Back and forth.

  Where are they?

  When Brian’s cruiser finally crested the hill, Ivy let loose with a heavy sigh. She watched as Brian parked the car, her gaze landing on the man in the passenger seat as she tried to hold on to her righteous indignation. It was hard because the handsome stranger was … breathtaking. Ivy could practically feel the masculinity rolling off of him.

  He was dressed down in simple blue jeans and a button-down shirt. His brown hair was a little long, shaggy even. His brown eyes were the color of molten chocolate, though, and his chest was broad and strong.

  The second Ivy’s blue eyes met his it was as if she could practically feel the magic zipping between them. There was a connection there she couldn’t put a name to. She had a feeling it was purely sexual, though, and that thought threw her. She was not in the mood for … this.

  Instead of focusing on that, though, Ivy decided to do the only thing she could do: complain. “Well … it took you long enough.”

  Brian graced Ivy with a small smile, taking in her bare feet and long dark hair – which was highlighted with bright pink streaks that caused the little old ladies in town to frown whenever they saw her – as she placed her hands on her hips and regarded him with irrepressible anger. “How are you, Ivy?”

  “I called ten minutes ago and said I found a body,” Ivy replied, darting occasional looks at Jack out of the corner of her eye. Who is he? “I don’t understand what took you so long.”

  “I was giving my new partner here a tour of the town,” Brian said. “Jack Harker, meet Ivy Morgan.”

  Jack regarded Ivy with unreadable eyes. “Ma’am.”

  Ivy made a face. “Ma’am? How old do I look to you?”

  “It’s just a term of respect, ma’am,” Jack said. “There was no offense meant.”

  Who is this guy? Ivy brushed her hair away from her face, giving in to an urge to look Jack up and down one more time before turning back to Brian. “A tour of the town takes two minutes.”

  “I can see you’re worked up, Ivy,” Brian said. “Why don’t you show us what you found that you think is a body?”

  “I’m sorry, think? Are you insinuating that I’m making up finding a body?”

  Brian held up his hands in mock surrender. “No, of course not. I just can’t remember the last time someone stumbled over a dead body at the end of their driveway.” Brian glanced around pointedly. “I’m still not seeing a body.”

  Ivy narrowed her eyes, irked. “I’m going to expect your apology in exactly five seconds,” she said, stalking to the opposite side of the driveway and pointing toward the narrow ditch on the other side.

  Brian moved to the spot Ivy indicated, lowering his gaze to the ground. Jack joined him, and they both sucked in a breath when their eyes fell on the battered body of a woman. She was fully clothed – which was a good thing – but her body was partially covered by branches and debris, which would seem to indicate someone had tried to hide it. Since decomposition wasn’t pronounced, the body couldn’t have been there for long, but there were some angry purple bruises poking out through the debris – and matted blood on the visible sections of clothing. That meant someone had either dumped the woman out here and tried to cover it up or killed her in this location and tried to do the same. Either way, it wasn’t good.

  “Well?” Ivy crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot.

  “I stand corrected,” Brian said, kneeling down. “I’m sorry. This is definitely a body.”

  JACK was having a hard time tearing his attention away from Ivy long enough to focus on the body. Even though he’d seen more than his fair share of death during his tenure in
Detroit, the sight always jolted him. The fact that this one showed up in one of the most serene locations he’d ever seen was troubling.

  Jack looked Ivy up and down, taking in her Bohemian appearance with a studied eye. Brian wasn’t lying when he said she was beautiful. The woman standing next to him was nothing short of striking. Her long hair was streaked with pink, and while he’d always thought that looked tacky on many, she somehow made it work. Her purple skirt was long and billowy, and every time the wind blew it up slightly, Jack caught a glimpse of a pair of shapely legs beneath.

  Ivy was wearing a basic black tank top, but her lithe frame was strong and well defined. She obviously kept herself in shape and, despite himself, Jack couldn’t help but be a little interested. He had no idea why. The last thing he wanted was a romantic entanglement.

  Maybe she is a witch, he internally mused.

  “We need to call the county crime scene techs out here,” Brian said. “We need photos and measurements taken before we can move the body.” He turned to Ivy. “Did you touch her?”

  Ivy pressed her lips together and didn’t immediately answer.

  “Ivy?” Brian pressed.

  “I checked to make sure she was really dead,” Ivy said, exhaling heavily. “I … I’ve never seen a dead body before. She looked dead, but I had to be sure.”

  Brian nodded. “Okay. Where did you touch her?”

  Ivy pointed. “Just on her wrist.”

  “Okay,” Brian said. “Do you know who it is?”

  Ivy shook her head. “I don’t think so. I couldn’t … look at her for too long, though.”

  “When was the last time you were down here?” Jack asked, finally opening his mouth after what seemed like forever. His deep baritone was enough to draw Ivy’s attention back to him.

  “I come down here every day to check the mailbox,” Ivy said. “Well … I guess I don’t on Sundays. I was down here yesterday, though, and she wasn’t here then.”

  “I’m not an expert,” Brian said, straightening. “I don’t think she’s been dead for twenty-four hours, though.”

  “No,” Jack agreed. “I’m guessing she’s only been out here for six to eight hours.”

  “Do you think she was killed here?” Ivy asked, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

  “I don’t know,” Jack replied. “We need to figure out how she died first. She’s pretty covered up here, and I don’t want to risk moving any of those branches or leaves until the coroner gets here. We don’t want to disturb the evidence.”

  Ivy nodded. That made sense. Still … . “If she was killed here, shouldn’t I have been able to hear her screaming or something from my house?” She cast a worried gaze at her cottage. “I wasn’t that far away.”

  Brian patted Ivy’s shoulder sympathetically. “Ivy, I know you think it’s your job to help everyone who needs it, but odds are that you would have been hurt, too if you tried to intervene.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better,” Ivy said.

  “I know it doesn’t,” Brian said. “It’s still the way of the world. What I need you to do now is go inside and put some shoes on. You shouldn’t be traipsing around out here with bare feet.”

  “I’m fine.” Ivy waved off his concern.

  “I’m sure you are,” Brian said, tugging on his patience. “You might be stepping on evidence, though. There also might be some sort of weapon out here. Just because we haven’t seen anything … .”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s not out here,” Jack finished.

  Ivy balked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that. I’ll go back to the cottage now.”

  “Jack will go with you,” Brian said.

  Jack swiveled, fixing Brian with a curious look. “I will?”

  “She needs to be questioned,” Brian said, unruffled. “You can do that while I wait for the coroner and crime scene team. The locals are going to start showing up in droves when word of this gets out. We need to try and be as quick as we can.”

  Understanding washed over Jack. “It’s a small town,” he said. “They’re not going to have anything better to do.”

  “This is the biggest thing to hit Shadow Lake in years,” Brian said. “They’re not going to be able to stop themselves from coming out and gawking.”

  “Of course,” Jack said. He swept his arm out to usher Ivy forward. “After you, ma’am.”

  Ivy scowled. “If you keep calling me that we’re going to have a problem.”

  Jack swallowed his smile. Brian was right. There was something about her. It was just something he couldn’t entertain. Still … she was definitely nice to look at.

  Three

  “This is a nice place,” Jack said, glancing around Ivy’s quaint cottage with unveiled interested. “It’s actually … beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” Ivy said, shuffling toward the kitchen. “My Dad refinished the entire house when we were kids. This is all his work, although I decorated it.”

  “Are your parents … gone?”

  “They don’t live here, if that’s what you’re asking,” Ivy said. “They’re not gone, though. They’re still in town. They just moved to a different house and sold me this one so I could be close to the nursery.”

  “It’s really nice,” Jack said, running his hands over the ornate wood molding that separated the living room and kitchen. “I love the setting of the cottage. I like how it’s close to the road, but you can’t really see it. It’s like you’re living in the middle of the woods … but you’re not.”

  “That’s why I love it, too,” Ivy said, arching an eyebrow as she watched him. “Where are you from?”

  Jack jerked his attention away from the doorframe and fixed it on Ivy. “What makes you think I’m not from around here?”

  “I can spot a city boy from a mile away,” Ivy said, smiling. The expression lit up her whole face, and for a second Jack lost himself in her exuberant grin.

  He shook himself out of his reverie. “I grew up in a suburb of Detroit,” Jack said. “I was with the Detroit police department until … .”

  Ivy narrowed her eyes, sensing he was about to say something he would regret. He caught himself, though.

  “I just wanted an easier life,” Jack said. “I’ve always loved this part of the state. I saw the ad for the detective’s position in the newspaper and I applied and … well … here I am.”

  “I guess that’s our gain,” Ivy said, moving into the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I have iced tea, green tea, peach tea, and tomato juice.”

  Jack made a face. “Tomato juice?”

  “It’s my favorite juice,” Ivy said, opening the refrigerator door. “Do you want something to drink or not?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Ivy ignored him and poured two glasses of iced tea. Once she turned her back to return the glass jug to the refrigerator, a black cat jumped up onto the counter and fixed his attention on the tea. When Ivy turned back around she already had her finger extended in the cat’s direction. “Don’t you even think about it, Nicodemus.”

  The cat arched his back, an innocent look on his face as he tried to get Ivy to pet him. Ivy gave in and rubbed him twice. “You’re not supposed to be on the counter.”

  Nicodemus cried plaintively.

  “I’ll feed you in a little bit,” Ivy said. “For now, you need to get off the counter.”

  Jack fought the urge to roll his eyes as he watched Ivy interact with the animal. He’d never met a cat that did what it was told. It just wasn’t in their nature. That’s why, as Ivy moved toward him with the drinks in her hands, he had to tamp down his disbelief as the cat jumped down from the counter and disappeared down a short hallway that Jack assumed led to Ivy’s bedroom. “How did you do that?”

  “Do what?” Ivy asked, her face blank.

  “You told the cat to get down from the counter and he did it.”

  “I asked nicely,” Ivy replied, no
nplussed. “When you ask nicely, you’d be surprised how things turn out.”

  Jack took the proffered glass of iced tea with a small nod of thank you, but he never moved his eyes from Ivy’s face. “You’re … interesting.”

  “So I’ve been told,” Ivy said, smiling tightly. “I’m sure you’ve already heard that I’m a witch.”

  “I might have heard something,” Jack admitted, sitting in one of the chairs around the kitchen table as Ivy settled next to him. “Ava mentioned something when she came to find us about your call.”

  “Ava,” Ivy said, nodding sagely. “That doesn’t surprise me. We’ve never had the … warmest … of relationships.”

  “Brian filled me in on some of that while we were driving out here,” Jack said. “I’m sorry things have been so difficult for you.”

  Ivy made a face. “I’m happy with who I am,” she said. “Things were never difficult for me because I wouldn’t let them be. I’m happy with my life and beliefs. If other people don’t like it … well … that’s their problem.”

  Jack liked her attitude, even if he wasn’t sure she was being entirely truthful. You could be completely happy with yourself and still hurt by the words and actions of others. “You stand out in an area like this,” he said. “Have you ever considered moving south? You would fit right in down there. The city would love you.”

  “I love the country,” Ivy replied, blasé. “The country loves me, too. There are some people that don’t understand me. I really don’t worry about them, though.”

  Jack nodded thoughtfully. He was having trouble tearing his gaze from the high ridges of her cheeks, or the oceans of blue beckoning to him in her eyes.

  “Did you have questions you wanted to ask?” Ivy asked, breaking the silence.

  “Um … yeah,” Jack replied, returning to the moment. “Can you tell me what you were doing last night?”

  “I finished up at the greenhouse around six,” Ivy said. “I had a quick dinner and then I went for a walk in the woods. I got back home around ten or so, and then I read a book on my back patio. I was in bed by midnight.”