Wicked Fun: An Ivy Morgan Mystery Books 7-9

by Lily Harper Hart

  For his part, Nicodemus didn’t look impressed with the suggestion. He merely swished his tail, boredom apparent.

  “Of course, Uncle Max doesn’t knock.” Ivy wiped her hands on the towel resting over the back of one of the chairs and walked to the door. She plastered a welcoming smile on her face – mostly because she expected to find a family member with good intentions stopping for a chat at Jack’s behest – but the expression slipped a bit when instead she found a morose-looking woman waiting on the other side of the door.

  “I … can I help you?”

  The woman, her dirty blond hair pulled back in a severe bun, wrung her hands together as she stared at Ivy’s bare face. “You’re Ivy Morgan?”

  Ivy was taken aback. “I am. I … can I help you?” Ivy was on edge. She wasn’t used to people simply stopping at her door. She lived out in the country, her house well set back from the road. She didn’t get solicitors – political or otherwise – and almost never greeted drop-ins.

  “My name is Mary Jackson.” The woman licked her lips, clearly nervous. “I believe you were with my husband yesterday when he died.”

  Ivy froze, every nerve ending in her body standing at attention. She was dumbfounded. “W-what?”

  Mary must’ve recognized the shock on Ivy’s face because she immediately held her hands up to signify she wasn’t a threat. “I don’t want to hurt you. I swear it. That’s not why I’m here.”

  Ivy shifted from one foot to the other, resting her hip against the doorjamb. Good manners would seem to insist that she invite the woman inside. She had no intention of doing that, though. She wouldn’t open herself up to attack like that. Not only because Jack would be livid if he found out, but also because she had no intention of being the idiot female in a horror movie who invites her killer in rather than running through the back door.

  “Why are you here?”

  “I just wanted to see you.” Mary didn’t make a move to enter the house. “I talked to the police for a long time yesterday and they said a woman was with Dorian when he died. I found out who when they asked me if I knew you. I’d never heard your name before and got the distinct impression they wanted to know if you and my husband were working together.”

  Ivy’s stomach twisted. “Before yesterday, I’m fairly certain I never saw your husband. I’m fairly good with faces and I didn’t recognize him when I lifted the mask.”

  “I know that.” Mary waved off Ivy’s explanation as she paced around the small front porch. “I Googled your name when the police asked me about Dorian’s relationship with you. There are a number of stories about your nursery – and some really weird police investigations you’ve apparently been involved with – and I knew the second I saw you that you weren’t involved with Dorian.”

  Despite the surreal situation, Ivy was almost positive she should be offended. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re bohemian,” Mary answered, not missing a beat. “Dorian was a diehard Republican. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a beautiful woman, but your pink hair would’ve driven Dorian crazy.”

  Ivy nodded as if she understood, but she wasn’t entirely sure she did. “I see. So you came to see me because the police mentioned my name?”

  “I figured you were the woman who was with Dorian when he died,” Mary explained. “Witnesses said the woman in question had pink hair. This was after I saw photos of you, of course. It simply made sense.”

  “I see.” Ivy licked her lips, her nervous energy refusing to abate. “I don’t mean to be rude but … what do you want?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” Mary shook her head. “You must think I’m a nut. I don’t blame you. It’s just … the police detective who questioned me said that my husband spoke to you before he died. He wouldn’t tell me what that conversation entailed and I swear I’m going to go insane if I don’t know.”

  Realization dawned on Ivy and she felt her heart going out to the woman standing on her front porch. It was unorthodox to approach a crime victim in this manner, but Mary Jackson was merely another kind of victim.

  “I wish I had something to make you feel better,” Ivy offered. “He only said one word, though. He didn’t give me some great message for his family before he left this world.”

  “Oh.” Mary looked disappointed.

  “If it’s any consolation, he didn’t have time to say much more than he did,” Ivy offered. “He struggled to even say the one word. He went … quickly.” Ivy wasn’t sure if that was comfort or not, but Mary seemed fine with the clarification.

  “What was the one word?”

  “Mitchell.” Ivy tilted her head to the side, considering. “Does that name mean anything to you?”

  Mary immediately started shaking her head and her expression was enough to make Ivy believe she was telling the truth. “No. I don’t know anyone by the name of Mitchell. I … no.”

  “No brothers or high school friends?”

  “No.” Mary chewed on her bottom lip, conflicted. “I guess it could be one of the men he worked with at the tree farm. I don’t think I caught all of the names of the workers there.”

  “Tree farm?” Ivy was intrigued. “What tree farm?”

  “We’ve been having financial trouble,” Mary explained. “Dorian used to work full time in the press room at the Traverse City Record Eagle, but he got bumped down to part time. There aren’t a lot of jobs out there so he decided to make extra money by doing seasonal work at the Shadow Lake Tree Farm out on the highway. Do you know where that is?”

  Ivy nodded. “Yeah. It’s about a mile away from my brother’s lumberyard.”

  “Oh, well, it wasn’t a lot of money, but it was a nice boost and … with the children we needed the boost.” Mary’s voice cracked. “I’m sorry. This isn’t your fault but … I had to know what he said. I’m so lost. I haven’t even told the kids what happened yet because I keep hoping this is a dream and I’m going to wake up any second.”

  Ivy took pity on the woman and patted her shoulder. “It’s okay. I understand. I was shaken yesterday but … I was mostly shaken when I heard he had kids. Um … do you want to come in and have a cup of tea?”

  Ivy made her mind up on the spot. She knew Jack would be livid, but she believed to her very core that she wouldn’t become a horror movie statistic at this woman’s hands.

  Mary looked surprised by the offer. “Really? You don’t even know me.”

  “I’m a people person.” Ivy mustered a wry smile. “Come on. My brother brought chocolate cake earlier today because he thought I was depressed. It’s really good.”

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I want to do this,” Ivy said. “Tea and cake can only help. I promise you that.”

  “I … well … thank you.” Mary forced a watery smile as Ivy ushered her inside. “Most people in the same situation wouldn’t be this kind.”

  “I like to think I’m different, that I’m not most people.”

  This time Mary’s smile was legitimate, although also still weak. “Yeah, I can see that.”

  Seven

  “I need a favor.”

  Ivy didn’t wait for the customer at Max’s lumberyard to walk away from the front counter in the sales office before approaching.

  Max lifted an eyebrow, smiled while waving at the man returning his wallet to his pocket, and shook his head. “Hello to you, too, Ivy. What a splendid way to greet your favorite brother.”

  “Oh, she’s your sister.” The man looked amused. “I thought maybe she was your wife. I was about to feel a huge amount of pity for you.”

  Max chortled. “It’s bad enough that she’s my sister. Trust me. If I was married to her I would never go home.”

  “Ha, ha.” Ivy rolled her eyes. “I need a favor.”

  The customer offered Max a wave before disappearing through the store’s front door. Max waited until he was gone to fix his full attention on Ivy. “So you’ve said twice now. What favor do you need?”

  �
�I need you to go to the tree lot down the road with me and help me pick out a tree.”

  The request seemed innocent on the surface, but in the hours since he’d separated from her, Ivy had put on makeup and washed her hair. He sensed something else was afoot. “Why really?”

  Ivy let loose with an exasperated look only a younger sister could muster for an older brother she absolutely adored. “I just told you.”

  “And I don’t believe you,” Max countered. “Do you want to know why?”

  “Not even remotely.”

  “That sounds like something Jack would say,” Max muttered, shaking his head. “I’m going to tell you anyway – which is exactly how I would react to Jack.”

  Ivy wrinkled her nose. “What does Jack have to do with this conversation?”

  Max caught himself before he said something stupid. “Nothing. You’re right. Jack isn’t important right now. Let’s talk about you. Why do you want me to help you pick out a Christmas tree? I would think that tree shopping is something that a romantic couple spending their first Christmas together might want to do as a unit.”

  Ivy blinked several times in rapid succession, a clear sign that she was thinking up an answer on her feet. “Jack is at work.”

  “Jack doesn’t work twenty-four hours a day,” Max pointed out. “Odds are that Jack will be more than willing to go to the tree lot with you when his shift ends.”

  Ivy knew that to be true, but she had other plans for Jack after dark and they didn’t include trekking to a cold tree lot and picking out something to decorate. “Can’t you just do this for me? I need a tree. Jack and I were supposed to go last night but … things happened.”

  Max’s expression softened. “Do you want to talk about that? I got the distinct impression earlier that you didn’t. If you want to talk … .”

  Ivy cut him off with a wave of her hand. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m perfectly fine.”

  Max knew all of his sister’s moods. She was his best friend as well as his sibling. He recognized when she was lying. He also knew when she was about to dig her heels in and be a royal pain in his posterior. “Fine.” He held up his hands in surrender. “I’ll pick out a tree with you.”

  “Good.” Ivy beamed. “You can also tie the tree to the top of my car so I can drive it home. That way I know it won’t blow away.”

  Max bobbed his head in agreement. “I knew you wanted me for a reason other than my sterling personality.”

  “That is true. I also want those muscles you insist on flexing whenever a woman turns a pair of interested eyes in your direction.”

  Max made an over-the-top bodybuilder pose that caused Ivy to giggle as she flashed back to their teenage years. “Max is buff. Max shall lift for you.”

  Ivy pressed her finger to Max’s cheek as she sucked in a breath to calm herself. “Thank you, Max.”

  “Put on your gloves,” Max ordered, turning to business. “I need to tell Neil that I’m leaving again. I’ve barely been here today.”

  “That’s why you’re the best brother in the world.”

  “And don’t you forget it.”

  “I WANT A Douglas Fir.” Ivy flashed a flirty smile at the man who led her from tree to tree, her eyes intense as she studied him when she thought he wasn’t looking in her direction. “I want something nice but not taller than seven feet.”

  “It sounds like you know what you want.” The man, who introduced himself as Corbin Dancy, flashed a smile as Max rolled his eyes. “I’m sure we can find what you want.”

  “Leave it to a woman to find a way to be picky about a Christmas tree,” Max muttered, his annoyance evident. “It’s a Christmas tree, Ivy. It doesn’t do tricks or anything.”

  “Oh, stuff it.” Ivy ignored Max’s poor mood and focused on Corbin. After her discussion with Mary Jackson, she couldn’t get what the woman said out of her mind. Up until the minute Mary was contacted by Detective Crawford twenty-four hours before, she thought her family was normal. Sure, she thought they were going through some financial upheaval, but it was hardly the end of the world. They were only behind by one mortgage payment and were in no danger of losing their house. Times weren’t easy but that hardly warranted a suicide run.

  Mary was sad at the loss of her husband – which was understandable – but she was more confused than anything else. She had children to consider (although she didn’t talk about them much), children who were going to have a very miserable Christmas. Mary Jackson wanted answers and she wasn’t the only one. Ivy was desperate for them, too.

  Ivy didn’t know Dorian Jackson. They shared oxygen for less than two minutes. She still felt driven to discover why Dorian Jackson did what he did. She couldn’t fathom what would possess a seemingly loving husband to fall off the rails the way that he did, but she needed to at least try to figure out why.

  The only clue she had was the tree lot … so that’s where she headed.

  “I generally find that men are the ones who are pickier about a tree,” Corbin supplied with a rueful chuckle. “The women only care that one side looks nice and someone else is carrying it.”

  Max snorted. “That’s why I was invited along for this holiday tradition. I’m the one who is going to tie the tree to her car.”

  “Oh, well, we could’ve done that,” Corbin offered, his hair dark enough that he looked somehow exotic as his green eyes flashed in the dimming light. “We don’t charge extra for it or anything.”

  “That’s good to know,” Max said. “I own the lumberyard down the way and I’ll make sure to tell my customers that. The hardest part of dealing with a real tree is putting it in one of those tree stands and getting it home.”

  Corbin nodded. “Thanks for that. I’m sure the owners appreciate it. Here are the Douglas Firs.” Corbin stood back to watch Ivy and Max as they perused the trees. “We have a nice-looking selection this year.”

  “You certainly do.” Ivy blessed the handsome man with another flirty smile and Max’s inner Ivy alarm began to ding. He kept his face placid as he followed Ivy three trees down and lowered his voice before speaking.

  “What are you doing?”

  Ivy pasted an innocent look on her face. “Why … whatever do you mean?”

  “Oh, don’t run that on me,” Max chided, wagging a finger. “I can tell you’re up to something. You’re flirting with that guy. Er, well, at least I think that’s what you’re doing. You’ve never been any good at it, your very brief flirting session with Jack notwithstanding.

  “With you two it was different, though,” he continued. “You and Jack were inexplicably drawn together by hormones and the desperate need to hump one another.”

  Ivy was affronted. “Excuse me? Who says the word ‘hump’ any longer?”

  “Smart men with extensive vocabularies,” Max replied, not missing a beat. “I’m right, though. You’re kind of flirting with that guy and I want to know why.”

  “I am not flirting. I don’t flirt.” Ivy carried herself with an air of innocence … and Max didn’t believe her for a second.

  “Don’t even. Why? I’m not a very good judge of the male species – other than myself, of course, because I’m the hottest guy ever – but that guy seems as if he would draw female attention. My problem with that is you already have a guy who I know draws female attention and you’re completely head over heels for him.”

  “You don’t know that,” Ivy challenged, playing with the needles on a nearby tree. “I might be in the market for a new man. Mine is keeping secrets from me.”

  “Oh, geez,” Max muttered, irritation bubbling up. “You need to let that go. Jack is not keeping secrets from you. He’s keeping Christmas gifts from you. That’s a very different thing.”

  “Except no one keeps Christmas gifts in file folders and then hides them with their work computer,” Ivy challenged. “He had something else in there. He lied about it being a Christmas gift. I know it.”

  Max happened to know otherwise but there was no way he
could admit that without ruining Jack’s surprise. “Why would he lie about something else? The man is almost tragically co-dependent. He tells you everything.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Ivy moved closer to another tree. “Maybe he’s found another girlfriend, though. One who isn’t as much work as me. One who enjoys dressing in suits and doesn’t have pink hair. One who never fights with him. You know, someone … normal.”

  Max suddenly felt tired. “And why would he do that? It defies reasoning, but he seems to like the girlfriend he already has. If I were in his position I would probably be looking to trade up, but Jack isn’t the type.”

  Ivy made an outrageous “well, duh” expression that caused Max to snicker. “That’s all I can think about,” she admitted after a beat. “Why else would he want to keep something from me?”

  “Because your Christmas gift was in there,” Max replied without hesitation. “Ivy, just because you can’t picture what he could possibly have in a file folder, that doesn’t mean that your gift wasn’t in there. Have you ever considered that it wasn’t your gift, but maybe a brochure for your gift?”

  Ivy stilled, confused. “What do you mean? Do you know what my gift is?”

  “No way. Jack knows better than telling me. I have a huge mouth.”

  “True.”

  Max was relieved she didn’t press him on the issue because he was known to fold when she really wanted her way. “I’m just spitballing here so don’t get excited, but maybe he’s taking you on vacation … or buying something that can’t be delivered until the spring because of the snow so he needs a photograph … or debating between two things so he needs the specs to be sure.”

  “I didn’t even think about that,” Ivy admitted, running her cold fingers over her cheek. “That makes sense. I … huh.”

  “Yeah, huh.” Max rolled his eyes. “Ivy, I know you can’t help yourself from fixating on stuff like this because it’s in your nature, but Jack loves you. If he said he had your Christmas gift in his bag, odds are he had your Christmas gift in his bag. The one thing he never wanted to talk about, the thing he kept secret for so long it almost ate him alive, is the thing he’s already talked to you about.”