Wicked Beginning: An Ivy Morgan Mystery Books 1-3
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Ivy pursed her lips. She’d learned a long time ago that the customer was always right, even when they didn’t give her much to go on. “Okay,” she said, racking her brain. “What do you want the tree to represent?”
“I have an open spot in the front of my lawn and it’s bugging me,” Charlotte said. “I want a tree to put there so it doesn’t bug me.”
Well, that was helpful, Ivy internally snarked. “Do you want a pine tree?”
“Those are ugly.”
“How about a maple or oak?”
Charlotte furrowed her brow. “Those shed leaves in the fall, right?”
Ivy nodded.
“That’s work,” Charlotte said.
Well, at least they were narrowing down the choices. “How about a flowering tree?” Ivy suggested. “There’s a flowering crabapple that is absolutely beautiful, and when the blooms drop you can just mow right over them.”
“Sold,” Charlotte said. “That sounds great.”
Ivy smiled. “I don’t have any out on the lot,” she said. “I have some in the greenhouse. Give me a few minutes and I can bring one up. How big do you want it to be?”
“Which size is the easiest to plant?”
Ivy figured she should’ve expected that question. “I’m going to recommend the larger tree,” she said. “It’s more expensive, but it’s also hardier. It’s going to take a little more work to plant, but once you have it in the ground, other than watering it regularly the first few weeks, it should be effortless.”
“That sounds great,” Charlotte said. “My husband is responsible for planting it. I’m just responsible for picking it out. He said, since I insist on shopping for everything, I had to shop for this, too.”
Ivy had a feeling Charlotte’s dream house wasn’t leading to a dream marriage, but she didn’t say that out loud. “I’ll go and get the tree.”
“Take your time,” Charlotte said. “I need to pick out a few other things.”
“I’ll put it up by the register,” Ivy said. “I’ll put your name on it. Just tell Dad it’s yours when you’re checking out.”
“Thanks, Ivy,” Charlotte said. “You’re a lifesaver.”
After chatting up a few more customers, Ivy stopped near the register long enough to tell her father, Michael, she was going to be in the greenhouse for a few minutes so he could be available to answer client questions if they popped up.
Since he was her silent partner in the business and he loved horticulture, Ivy knew it wouldn’t be too much of a hardship.
“Hey, little missy,” Michael said, smiling at his daughter as she approached. “How are you today? No hug for your dear, old dad?”
Ivy stepped into his warm embrace, returning the gesture with a tight squeeze, and then took a step back. Her parents were part-timers in Shadow Lake. They spent the winter months in Florida to get away from the cold and snow, and the summer months in Michigan. They’d only been home a few weeks, and while Ivy loved them, she was already starting to chafe under their constant presence.
“Better?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“My life is always better when I have a little Ivy in it,” Michael teased. “What’s going on?”
“I have to run back to the greenhouse,” Ivy said. “Charlotte Jones needs a crabapple tree. I need you to keep an eye on everything up here.”
“I aim to please,” Michael said, mock saluting. “That’s not what I was getting at, though.”
Ivy furrowed her brow. “What were you getting at?”
“How is your love life?”
Ivy internally groaned, rolling her eyes as she regarded him with a serious expression. “Non-existent.”
“Don’t lie to your father,” Michael chided. “When you do that a fairy dies.”
“That’s what you told me when I was eight and you caught me trying to hide that kitten in my bedroom,” Ivy said. “I believed it then. I’m far too savvy to believe it now.”
“You believe it a little bit,” Michael replied, nonplussed.
The sad thing is, he was right. “Fine,” Ivy said, blowing out a sigh. “I still don’t have a love life, though.”
“What about Jack?”
“What about him?”
“Harry Morton told me he saw you two playing basketball up at the high school last week,” Michael said, not missing a beat.
“How does that constitute me having a love life?”
“He said you two were laughing and … flirting.”
“He saw that from where, his perch in the tree where he was spying on us?” Ivy was irritated. She was used to people gossiping about her. She didn’t like the idea of her time with Jack being monitored, though. It made her uncomfortable.
“People are on couple watch, Ivy,” Michael said, unruffled. “Everyone knows you and Jack are circling each other like sharks about to strike.”
“Shark Week isn’t until August,” Ivy said. “How can you possibly pull that analogy out of your butt in May?”
“Nice,” Michael said, smirking. “Tell me about Jack.”
“There’s nothing to tell about Jack,” Ivy said. “How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“Just until you believe it,” Michael said.
Ivy rolled her eyes. “I’m going to the greenhouse.”
“That’s fine,” Michael said, refusing to let his only daughter bait him. “This conversation will be available to revisit at any time.”
“Great,” Ivy said, turning on her heel and stalking toward the greenhouse at the edge of the property. “I can’t wait.”
“I love you, too,” Michael called to her back before focusing on a customer.
Ivy’s agitation grew with every step. She knew her father was trying to be supportive, but everyone watching her made her sick to her stomach. She wanted to live her life on her terms – not everyone else’s.
Ivy let herself into the greenhouse, taking her time to scan up and down the rows as she tried to remember where the crabapples were located. After a few moments, she remembered they were in the back corner.
Upon finding them, she studied her options for a few minutes before selecting one of the biggest ones she had to offer. Since Charlotte wasn’t planting it, Ivy figured she would be thrilled about giving her husband more work.
Ivy had the tree in her arms and escape on her mind when she heard something shuffle in the area behind her. She shifted, narrowing her eyes so she could stare into the corner behind some germinating hydrangeas. She’d just about convinced herself she imagined it when she saw a hint of movement.
She peered closer, her heart inadvertently flipping when she caught sight of a hint of dirty blonde hair and a pair of terrified green eyes. It was a girl … a teenage one, if Ivy was right with her initial scan.
Ivy opened her mouth to speak, thinking a parent had probably brought the girl to the nursery and she’d just gotten lost, when the girl realized she’d been discovered. She opened her mouth, too … and screamed.
Two
“I called Brian Nixon,” Michael said, moving up to Ivy’s side as she leaned against the greenhouse doorframe. “He’s on his way.”
Brian Nixon was a police detective with the Shadow Lake Police Department – and Jack’s partner. Ivy couldn’t focus on Jack’s impending arrival, though. She had a few other things on her mind.
After screaming bloody murder, the girl curled up into a small ball and pressed her back to the wall in the far corner of the greenhouse. Ivy tried to talk to and touch her, but that only garnered more screaming. Finally, the worried woman moved to the door so she could watch without terrifying her guest.
“She’s got bruises all over her arms,” Ivy said, her voice low. “She’s filthy, too.”
Michael swallowed hard as he patted Ivy’s shoulder. He knew what she was thinking. It was the exact same thing worrying him. “How long do you think she’s been in there?”
“I have no idea,” Ivy said. “I was in the greenhouse yesterday, bu
t only to grab a couple of pots close to the door. She could’ve been in here then … which freaks me out.”
“It’s okay, kid,” Michael said. “You couldn’t have known. I was in here yesterday, too.”
“Someone hurt her, Dad,” Ivy said. “She’s … traumatized.”
“It’s going to be okay, Ivy,” Michael said. “You found her. The police are on their way. They’ll know exactly what to do.”
Ivy hoped that was true. Something told her the road to finding out who this girl was – and what happened to her – was going to be a bumpy one.
“WELL, crap,” Brian said, scurrying back outside the greenhouse and fixing Ivy with a conflicted look. “She won’t let me get close to her.”
“Join the club,” Michael said. “We’ve both tried, too.”
Jack shifted uncomfortably, proximity to Ivy causing his heart rate to speed up while he tried to focus on the task at hand. “Maybe I should try.”
“No,” Ivy said, immediately shaking her head.
“Why not? I might be able to get through to her.”
“I know you mean well, but she’s in shock or something,” Ivy said. “You’re too big. You’re going to scare her.”
“I’m too big?” Jack widened his eyes, incredulous.
“You know what I mean,” Ivy said. “You’re all muscles and broad shoulders. She’s scared and you’re physically intimidating. Plus, you’re wearing a red shirt and that can be taken as antagonistic to some people.”
“Thanks for the fashion critique, honey,” Jack said, using the affectionate nickname he’d adopted a few weeks before. She’d used it first without thinking. He’d opted to start using it to irritate her. Now he kind of liked it, and it slipped out even when he didn’t want it to. They really were in a weird spot in their relationship, and both of them were struggling to maintain even footing. Finding a disheveled and possibly abused teenage girl in the greenhouse wasn’t going to help the situation.
“Well, honey, you’re going to make her scream if you go in there, and that’s what we’re trying to avoid,” Ivy said.
Michael and Brian exchanged a look, one that wasn’t lost on Jack and Ivy. They were amused by the banter, enjoying the show even though bigger issues were weighing down on them.
“What do you suggest?” Jack asked, his hands landing on his narrow hips as he regarded Ivy. She really was aggravating … and hot … and she smelled delightful. He had no idea what the scent was, but it was going straight to his head.
“I don’t know,” Ivy replied primly. “I … .” She stuck her head back in the room for a moment, her eyes finding the shaking girl in the corner. “Okay, I have a plan.”
“I can’t wait to hear this,” Jack said.
Ivy ignored him. “Dad, I need you to go back to my house,” she said. “There’s some egg salad in the refrigerator. Make two sandwiches and grab the bag of broccoli in the bottom drawer. Bring a couple of bottles of water, too. She’s probably thirsty.”
“You’re going to bribe her with food?” Jack asked.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Michael said, not bothering to argue with Ivy’s order.
“I think I need to call for some paramedics,” Brian said. “She looks … rough.”
“Call Samantha Hobbes,” Ivy suggested.
“Why her?”
“She’s a woman.”
“Ivy, I know what you’re thinking,” Brian said. “I’m not ruling that out. We don’t know that she’s been hurt that way, though. Not yet.”
“I’m taking every precaution,” Ivy said. “Trust me. I hope she hasn’t been hurt that way. It’s going to make me really sad if it’s true … but we have to be careful either way.”
“Okay,” Brian said, giving in. “I’m going to let you take the lead – but only because I don’t know what else to do.”
“Every man in my life should always take that approach where I’m concerned,” Ivy sniffed.
Jack pursed his lips. “I agree,” he said after a moment. “I think we should start carrying you around on our shoulders and exalt your virtue and loveliness every chance we get.”
Ivy made a face. “You’re going to owe me a big apology when I’m right on this.”
“I’m looking forward to it, honey.”
IVY gripped the sandwich plate in her hand and pressed the bottles of water to her chest as she shuffled toward the back corner of the greenhouse twenty minutes later. She knew Brian – and more importantly, Jack – watched her from the doorway. She didn’t want to fail, and sadly, it wasn’t just because she wanted to help the girl. She also wanted to be right.
Ivy lowered herself to a sitting position and rested the plate and bottles of water on the ground. She carefully pushed them over until they were within reaching distance for the girl, and then she pushed herself back until she was close enough to watch her but far away enough to appear unthreatening.
“You should eat something,” Ivy said, keeping her voice soft. “It’s egg salad and broccoli. I don’t have a lot of junk food around my house. I’m sorry.”
The girl shifted her position, pushing herself upright as her eyes darted between Ivy and the plate.
“I promise it’s good,” Ivy said.
Either the girl was opting to trust her – or she was just that hungry – because she grabbed the sandwich and shoved it into her mouth without uttering a word. Ivy had never seen anyone inhale a sandwich that fast, and she was relieved when the girl approached the second sandwich with tepid moderation.
“Have some water,” Ivy prodded.
The girl suspiciously took the water, casting one more look at Ivy before opening and guzzling it. She didn’t put the water bottle down until it was empty, and then she immediately reached for the second bottle.
Ivy’s heart rolled painfully. The girl was starving and dehydrated. Upon closer inspection, the bruises on her arms were darker and more numerous than Ivy realized. She had a feeling that they weren’t relegated to just her arms either.
“My name is Ivy. This is my greenhouse. I own the whole nursery, actually. My house is just through the woods, too.”
The girl didn’t respond, but her thoughtful eyes were focused on Ivy as she reached for the broccoli and started munching.
“I grew up here,” Ivy continued. “This is a very special place. I’m betting that’s why you were drawn here.”
There was still no answer. Ivy decided to do what came naturally: talk.
“Are you from around here? I’ll bet you’re from close by,” she said. “Did you have to walk here? Do you want more to eat? Do you want to come out and let me get a better look at you?”
This went on … and on … and on.
“WE have to do something,” Jack said, leaning his head against the wall of the greenhouse and turning his attention to Michael and Brian. “She’s floundering in there.”
“She’s not floundering,” Michael argued. “She’s trying to build a rapport.”
“She just talking … and talking … and talking,” Jack said. “The girl isn’t talking back.”
“She’s not screaming either,” Brian said. “Give Ivy a little time. She might surprise you with how good she is with people.”
“I didn’t say she wasn’t good with people.”
“You were insinuating it,” Michael said, shooting him a look. “I’ll have you know, my daughter is good at whatever she does. No, I take that back. She’s great at whatever she does. You should have a little faith in her.”
Jack was taken aback. “I didn’t say I didn’t have faith in her. I … she’s not getting anywhere, though.”
“She got her to eat without screaming,” Brian said. “That’s more than you or I could’ve accomplished.”
“You don’t know that,” Jack said. “I’m very charming. I’m also easy to talk to.”
“That must be why you and Ivy are always sniping at one another,” Brian said drily.
“That’s the sexual tension,
” Michael said.
Jack’s cheeks colored. He was well aware that the town was talking about his flirtation with Ivy. He could deal with that. He was new to town. He didn’t know most of the people who lived there, so he didn’t care what they thought. For Ivy’s father to point it out, though, was something else entirely. “I … .”
“Oh, look how cute he is,” Brian said, smirking. “You’ve completely thrown him off his game.”
Jack recovered quickly. “I am not off my game. Nothing throws me off my game. I’m a professional.”
“I heard Ivy beat you at basketball last week,” Brian said.
“She didn’t beat me,” Jack said. “She … played me. She didn’t tell me she could’ve tried out for the WNBA and made it on half of the teams before we started.”
“She’s always been a good athlete,” Michael said, chuckling. “She’s not that good, though.”
“She had home court advantage,” Jack grumbled. “We’re having a rematch now that I know what I’m up against. I won’t let her win again.”
“Wait,” Brian said, holding up his hand. “Did you lose because she’s good enough to be in the WNBA, she had home court advantage, or you let her win? Those are three different things.”
“I … let it go,” Jack sputtered. “We have more important things to focus on.”
“We do,” Brian agreed, grinning despite himself. “We have to focus on the basketball star and the fact that she doesn’t like to lose any more than you do. Trust me. She’s going to find a way to win in this situation, too.”
“I’m not sure there’s going to be any way to win this situation,” Jack said, sobering. “This is going to be bad no matter what.”
“CAN’T you please say something?” Ivy asked. “I’m not asking for a full sentence. Just say one word. Tell me to shut up if you want to. I can take it.”
The girl tilted her head to the side, her dirty blonde hair dipping low on her shoulders as she regarded Ivy.
“Please,” Ivy prodded.
“I’m still hungry.”
The words took Ivy by surprise and yet caused her heart to soar at the same time. While the girl wasn’t opening up about her ordeal, or even saying her name, she also wasn’t closing herself off to the possibility of Ivy helping her.