“The shooting.” Ivy rolled her neck until it cracked. “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”
“I think you’re definitely being ridiculous,” Max said. “This is your first Christmas with Jack. I have no doubt you’re going to have many more. Still … shouldn’t you be enjoying the season instead of dwelling on something stupid?”
Ivy bobbed her head without hesitation. “Yes. I’m starting to think I’m nutty or something, though. I don’t know why I’m so worked up about this.”
“You’re worked up because Jack doesn’t lie to you and you’ve got it in your head that he did this morning,” Max said. “The thing is, a lie about a Christmas gift is not a lie. It’s a misdirection. He has a right to surprise you with a Christmas gift. Stop giving the man grief.”
“Fine.” Ivy blew out a sigh and returned to her tree search, peering around the edge of the nearest Douglas Fir and watching Corbin chat with two of his co-workers about seventy-five feet away. “Do you know any of those guys?”
Max followed Ivy’s gaze and frowned for an entirely new reason when he realized what she was staring at. “Seriously?”
Ivy nodded, unruffled. “I had a visitor after you left today. Her name was Mary Jackson.”
“Is that name supposed to mean something to me?”
“Her husband was Dorian Jackson.”
The name sounded familiar and yet Max couldn’t put a face with the name. “Who is Dorian Jackson?”
“Shh!” Ivy slapped a finger to her lips and waved her free hand at her brother. “Not so loud.”
“Why is this a secret?” Max whispered, hunkering down a bit so he was on an even level with his sister. “I don’t recognize that name.”
“He’s the man who died in my lap yesterday.” Ivy thought she would have trouble saying the words, but it was surprisingly easy.
“Oh.” Max scratched his cheek as he debated how to proceed. “So that guy’s wife showed up at your house today? Why didn’t you call someone right away? We would’ve gotten rid of her.”
“I wasn’t looking to get rid of her,” Ivy replied, her blue eyes flashing. “She was sad. She only showed up because the police told her that her husband spoke to me before he died. She wanted to know what he said.”
“But … how did she find you?”
“The cops asked her if she knew an Ivy Morgan. She thought it was because her husband might be having an affair with me. She didn’t realize the cops were trying to rule me out as a suspect.”
Max was angry. “Why would the cops suspect you?”
“If you can explain to me why a cop does anything – including the one I’m dating – I would be a happy camper,” Ivy replied. “I have no idea why they thought it. Once they asked Mary, though, she Googled my name and found the nursery. She simply wanted to know what her husband said to me.”
“And?”
“And I told her.” Ivy rubbed her thumb between her eyebrows to warm the cold skin. “She was nice … and sad … and had no idea why her husband did what he did. They say the other guy only escaped with jewelry from that corner store right by the exit. That’s all that was taken.”
“Okay, but … I still don’t understand why you talked to this woman,” Max pressed. “She could’ve been dangerous, Ivy. What if she’d attacked you?”
“She had no interest in attacking me,” Ivy replied. “She wanted a motive. I didn’t have one. She didn’t recognize the name Mitchell either. She told me her husband was moonlighting here for extra money and that she didn’t know these guys very well. I’m simply looking for names.”
Max blew out a frustrated sigh. “You are … un-freaking believable,” he muttered. “Has anyone ever told you that?”
“You just did.”
“Well … you are.” Despite his irritation, Max flicked his gaze back to the men standing with Corbin. “That’s Ricky Hughes and Matt Bloom. They’re locals. I know them from the bar. They go to that country place on M-88 every Thursday because women drink for free and then line dance.”
Ivy was appropriately scandalized. “You go to a honky-tonk bar to pick up women on Thursdays? How did I not know this?”
“Because you’re oblivious and wrapped up in your own love life,” Max replied. “As for those guys, they seem relatively normal. They’re single and they work for Britton Landscaping in the summer. I’m guessing they only work here in between seasons.”
“No one named Mitchell?” Ivy couldn’t help but be a little disappointed.
“No.”
“Oh, well, crud.” Ivy blew out a very unladylike raspberry. “That bites.”
“Oh, yeah, it’s the end of the world,” Max intoned. “Have you picked out a tree yet?”
Ivy nodded. “This one.” She pointed. “Let’s make those guys carry it for us so I can ask them a few questions at least. I’m probably going to leave empty-handed but, at least I can say I did my due diligence.”
Max opened his mouth to argue and then snapped it shut. Agreeing would be the fastest way to clear his schedule for the rest of the day. “Fine. Question the crap out of them. Go nuts.”
“There’s the best brother in the world again.”
“Definitely,” Max agreed. “I deserve an award or something.”
“I’ll start shopping for one tomorrow.”
Eight
Because she felt a woman could do anything a man could do – sometimes even better – Ivy refused to wait for Jack to arrive to attempt to haul the tree into the house. She managed to cut the rope that held it with minimal effort, and roll it to the ground on the other side of her vehicle, but dragging the tree across the driveway turned out to be a struggle.
When Jack pulled his truck into the driveway, he found Ivy sitting on the front steps, her chin propped in her mitten-covered hands as she rested her elbows on her knees and openly glared at the tree. He took a moment to study the situation before setting the takeout bag on the hood of the truck and fixing Ivy with a quizzical look.
“Do you need help?”
Ivy heard Jack’s truck before she saw the lights flash in the driveway. She considered running inside to hide, but Jack wasn’t stupid so she wasn’t likely to salvage her pride going that route.
“The tree is too big for me to bring in by myself.”
“I can see that.” Jack shuffled closer. “Is there a reason you didn’t wait for me to help? In fact, is there a reason you didn’t wait for me to go with you so we could pick out a tree together?”
After her conversation with Max, the last thing Ivy wanted to do was own up to letting a strange woman in her house and then investigating tree lot employees on her own. She didn’t plan on lying to Jack over the long haul, but staving off an argument over the short term seemed like a good idea.
“I wanted to get the tree and have it set up when you got here,” Ivy replied. “I thought we could get in warm pajamas and decorate it together … with hot cocoa and marshmallows. I bought really cute marshmallows in the shape of snowflakes.”
Jack couldn’t help but smile at her morose expression. “I like your plan … except for the warm pajamas. I thought we could decorate the tree while naked.”
Ivy chortled, legitimately amused. “That could be dangerous.”
“That’s how I live my life.” Jack grabbed the front of Ivy’s coat and pulled her to her feet, pressing a kiss to her mouth. “Next time, ask for help.”
“Next time I’m going to make Max carry it in for me so I can do my surprise right,” Ivy muttered.
“That’s a legitimate way to go, too. Grab the food from the hood of the truck before it freezes. I’ll handle the tree.”
Ivy happily complied, affectionately swatting Jack’s rear end as she moved past him. “For you, honey, I might consider decorating the tree naked. Only for you, though.”
“What a relief.” Jack grunted as he lifted the end of the tree. “And here I thought you were open to offering that special delight to any random man who could carry a
tree.”
“Ha, ha.”
JACK GOT the tree in the festive stand and positioned the tree skirt over it before joining Ivy at the dining room table. Her cheeks were flushed with color from her time outdoors and Jack enjoyed the lively way her eyes kept bouncing to the tree.
“It’s the perfect height.”
“Yes, you did a masterful job picking it out,” Jack said, opening the container that housed his burger and fries. “I got you the veggie pita and fries. I texted, but you didn’t answer. At first I was a little worried, but now I realize you couldn’t hear your phone because you were outside fighting with the tree.”
“I wasn’t fighting with the tree,” Ivy clarified. “I was winning. I was simply in the middle of a break when you happened to come home and witness my very huge victory.”
Jack snorted out a laugh. “You’re in a rowdy mood today, honey. What did you do with your day?”
“What did you do with your day?”
“We didn’t do anything today,” Jack replied. “It’s maddeningly quiet.”
“I would think that’s a good thing around this time of year,” Ivy argued. “No one wants a violent Christmas.”
“No, but other than Agnes Webb believing that someone keeps stealing her eggnog – even though it’s clear from her breath she’s the one drinking it – we have absolutely nothing going on,” Jack said. “I don’t know what to make of it. In the city, domestic violence and suicides go up around the Christmas holiday. I’m not saying I want that, mind you, but it’s kind of a weird feeling.”
“A good weird feeling or a bad one?” Ivy slathered ranch dressing on her pita.
“Good.” Jack smiled as she opened her mouth and bit off a huge mouthful of her pita. “I’m surprised you have much of an appetite after you and your brother demolished the better part of a cake today.”
Ivy thoughtfully chewed as she debated how to proceed, swallowing before speaking. “I see you talked to Max.”
“I did.”
“He didn’t mention that when we went to the tree lot together.”
“I didn’t realize you went to the tree lot together.” Jack was buying time as he internally wondered whether or not he accidentally sacrificed Max to his beautiful but vengeance-prone girlfriend. Ultimately Jack decided to take the onus of the conversation onto his own broad shoulders. “Max simply stopped in because I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Ivy wasn’t surprised by the admission. “So … you sent Max to babysit me?”
“I’m not a fan of that word, or of the fight I think it will cause us to engage in,” Jack replied. “I sent Max to check on his sister because he loves her. I happen to love the woman in question, too. I’m not going to apologize for worrying about you being out here by yourself for the bulk of the day, Ivy.”
Ivy dipped a fry in ketchup, her expression unreadable. “What did you think I was going to do?”
Jack shrugged. “I don’t know, honey. You seemed okay, but you went through a trauma yesterday. You don’t want to talk about it – instead spending your time talking about anything else – and I hate it when you’re upset.”
“So you asked Max to check on me,” Ivy mused, munching on her fry.
“Technically that is not what happened,” Jack hedged. “Max showed up last night when you were taking your bath because he wanted to see you. I didn’t want to risk that because you seemed determined to relax and go to bed. I put him off a day and told him I would contact him if I wanted him to stop by. He said that odds were high he would stop over no matter what.”
Ivy pursed her lips, her expression giving Jack the impression she was absorbing the news. “Did you call Max this morning?”
Jack saw no reason to lie. “I texted him and said I thought it would be a good idea for him to visit.”
Ivy pressed her eyes shut as she decided whether or not she should be angry. When she opened them again, she realized Jack hadn’t slowed down with his food intake and was methodically plowing through his takeout.
“Are you ticked off?” Jack asked after a beat, reaching for his glass of iced tea.
“No.”
“Are you upset?”
“Not with you.” Ivy turned her eagle eyes inward. “I’m a little angry with myself that I worried you enough to make you call my brother. I didn’t mean to do that.”
“Oh, honey, don’t be angry with yourself,” Jack instructed. “This is a big deal. It’s not easy to deal with. I’m working really hard not to push you. I’m still new at the relationship game, but I’m pretty sure that pushing you is going to get me the exact opposite of what I want.”
“And what do you want?”
“To decorate the tree. Clothing can be optional.”
Ivy tried to keep her face stern, but failed … miserably. “I think we can work something out.”
Jack was relieved. “So … you’re not angry? Really?”
Ivy shook her head. “I’m sorry I worried you. That wasn’t my intent.”
“Honey, I don’t care about that,” Jack said. “I just want you to be happy. It’s our first Christmas together. We’re going to be decorating a tree together tonight. That’s supposed to be a happy event.
“That being said, what you went through yesterday was not a happy event,” he continued. “You can’t force yourself to feel something you don’t feel. So, if you went and got this tree without me to try to force yourself to be excited about the holiday, I want you to stop right now.
“I don’t love you because you’re always happy or always look at life the way I want you to,” he said. “I love you because you’re you. So, if you have a specific reaction to what happened, I want you to feel it. I don’t care how you choose to react as long as it’s from a place of truth.”
Ivy pressed her lips together and raised her eyebrows, love for Jack practically overwhelming her. When she finally found her voice, she was surprised to realize it was strong. “I think decorating the tree without clothes is a marvelous idea. That’s what I want.”
Jack flashed a smile. “Good. After that we’re going to talk about the fact that you told your brother you think I’m lying to you about what was in the laptop bag. I figure we’ll ease into that argument, though.”
Ivy’s grin slipped. “I’m going to kill Max.”
“Oh, that’s not going to help you,” Jack said. “I’m a police officer. I can arrest you for saying things like that.”
“I’m still going to kill him.”
“Eat your dinner first,” Jack instructed. “You’re going to need your strength.”
“For the argument we’re going to have about what I said to Max, or killing Max?”
Jack shrugged. “Maybe both. I want to see that container clean in fifteen minutes, though. We’ll handle the second argument of the night after that. How does that sound?”
“Like I’m not going to be able to enjoy my snowflake marshmallows.”
“Oh, we’re going to enjoy those marshmallows. I can guarantee that. Now … eat. We have a long night ahead of us.”
Ivy had no doubt that was true.
“OKAY, WHERE are the lights?”
Jack wiped his hands off on a napkin before turning to the tree. Ivy watched him, her eyes heavy-lidded.
“I thought we were going to fight first?”
“We’re not going to fight, Ivy,” Jack replied. “We’re going to have a very calm discussion while decorating the tree. Then, when we’re done, we’re going to sit on the ground in front of it and drink our cocoa.”
“I thought we were going to get naked.”
“All good things come to those who wait.”
Ivy pursed her lips. This wasn’t how she and Jack generally fought. “Fine. I’ll play your game. The lights are in that red bin over there. They’re purple and teal.”
“Pretty.” Jack flashed a smile as he strode in that direction, leaving Ivy to clean up the takeout containers and watch him. He could feel her eyes on him as he wor
ked, fanciful confusion washing over her as she battled to come to grips with his confusing mood. He almost wanted to laugh because her frustration was palpable. He didn’t laugh, though. He knew it wouldn’t go over well if he did. “You have tinsel, right?”
Ivy nodded. “It’s silver and purple.”
“I’m sensing a theme.” Jack nudged Nicodemus away from the tree with his foot. “Is he going to knock this thing over?”
“He generally takes the tree out once a year before he learns his lesson,” Ivy replied. “I’m used to it.”
“Well, if you’re used to it then I guess it won’t be an issue. Do you have breakable ornaments?”
“Some.”
“Okay. You can decide where those go because you probably have a better feel for where they won’t get broken. Do you want to bring the tinsel over here and work with me?”
Ivy didn’t bother to hide her annoyance as she dug in the bin, moving to his side with the tinsel. “Why don’t you just say something and get it out of the way? I hate walking on eggshells around you. I’m not used to it.”
“I don’t like it either,” Jack said, accepting the tinsel and locking gazes with his temperamental girlfriend. “I think you should be the one to speak first, though.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re the crazy one in this scenario.”
Ivy’s mouth dropped open as unadulterated disgust washed over her. If Jack was trying to bait her, he’d done a marvelous job. “I am not crazy!”
“It sounds crazy to me.” Jack kept his tone even. “I’ve done nothing but love you practically from the first moment I saw you and yet you’re suspicious of me.”
“That’s because when someone hides a gift it’s not usually in file folders,” Ivy snapped. “A gift is a package you unwrap.”
Wicked Fun: An Ivy Morgan Mystery Books 7-9 Page 26